This new blog was born out of tragedy, however, I’d been considering doing another blog for some time.

My main blog,Zille Defeu’s Fetish Fantasies is focused quite tightly upon spanking and fetish, upon the Master/slave relationship I’m in. People coming by that blog tend to fall into two camps: 1.) people lookin’ for hot spankin’ action, and 2.) my friends who are interested in what Zille’s been gettin’ up to.

Since my friends will generally be willing to click an extra click, or add an extra RSS feed, I think it makes more sense to create a new blog for my ruminations and ponderings of the less sexual/fetishistic in nature.

The reason why I’m starting it now, is because I’m probably about to enter a period where I’ll have lots of thoughts about things, but they may be less kinky than usual.

My Master was in a car accident.

The asshole in the other car tried to over-take three cars by driving in the on-coming traffic lane, and seeming not to notice my Master driving in that lane, smashed head first into him.

Their combined momentum upon impact was 180 kpm.

It is amazingly lucky, miraculous even, that my Master is still with me. But he is not without injury: his right leg has a new knee, and his right arm has a seven-hole plate running from the elbow to wrist (for what the doctor called a “fascinating” fracture. It’s never very good when doctors use that word!) Add to that a cracked rib, his other knee cut up so bad that with the stitches in it looks a bit like Frankenstein’s knee, and multiple and impressive contusions and sore places. Oh, and the cut on his head that bleed the way you are always told head-wounds bleed (copiously) but you are still never prepared to see that much blood pouring from someone you love’s head.

There were many other pieces of luck surrounding this accident. We were in a country where he is a citizen, and in an area where some of his family lives. He got taken by helicopter to one of the countries best hospital trauma units. And I could go on for a rather long list.

But there are also the hard parts, as well. I cannot fully express my emotions when the call came in (I had been sleeping, and for a few seconds I desperately hoped I was just having a very bad dream). Even more, I don’t even want to go into the six hours of waiting in the trauma waiting room, to find out if my husband and Master had survived surgery, and if he had, what the full extent of his injuries were.

And now, the man who normally is my Master, who cares for me, is now in my care. He is on crutches, but even then he can’t get far without getting weak and dizzy. I did things for him before, but that was part of our M/s dynamic. Now I do them because he cannot do them for himself.

And I have to step-up, be strong and independent, support him and, since he was my support, support myself as well. (Although not financially, at least, another way we are so very lucky.)

I have been his slave, his little girl, for four years now. Now, suddenly, I must be the big, strong, take-care-of-things one. This will change our relationship, our us, forever. I’m sure in the end it will be for the good, but I still haven’t even had the proper time to mourn the end of who-we-were.

In short (well, not-so-short, I will ramble on…): in the space of the time it took for that thoughtless stranger to make a very bad decision, my life (and my Master’s) has just changed immensely, and the only warning I got was in the form of the shock of being told your husband has been in an accident.

So, you see, I’ll have a lot of thinking and writing to do, here….