Little_Rabbit_Electric_Tears

Electric Tears

Dressed head to toe in glistening latex I was ready for the final night of Domme Trips. There’s something above being covered in latex that is so seductive, I couldn’t keep my hands off myself, the silk feel of rubber skin melting into my own. The only thing that could make this better would be a photo with my stunning Mistress. I’ve fantasized of vampires since I was a young child and something about Mistress’s seductive eyes glowing red and Her Louboutin red tipped fangs made me feel weaker than ever. I wanted to feel the fangs bite down, see Her ominous smile forewarning further pain. I had become so aroused simply looking at Mistress I found myself wanting to do anything possible to make Her happy. Even suggesting wearing the electric belt for Her after I had changed into some lace lingerie as per Her request.

I know Mistress prefers things being offered to Her than having to ask and this seemed no exception. No sooner had the offer left my mouth than I was being sent to request the belt from another Mistress.

Unlike previously, Mistress put the belt straight onto setting 4 and tested the reaction. The metal prongs resting each side of my lips surged, dropping me to the floor with one powerful zap. My mind became tortured, begging Mistress not to press the button, tears already starting to form in my eyes as She discussed with Her Domme friend any possible reasons to electrocute me. Watching the sadistic vampire laugh as She tested higher settings is all that I could focus on. Her glistening eyes as I curled and convolused on the floor in endless agony, intermittently screaming and begging Mistress yet knowing it would make no difference. A sadist is a sadist is a sadist.

Desperately following Mistress around on an invisible lead all the time focusing on Her and only Her. All whilst She held that remote, nothing else could matter. Stripped naked bar the latex belt, with a Mistress’s foot in my hand to massage (Mistress had auctioned me off to foot massage) and yet all I wanted to look at was my Mistress. The half hour extended into a decade, unable to touch and look at Mistress. Unable to be close to Her yet the constant reminder of how much control She had over me by the uncomfortable metal spikes resting on my most vulnerable of areas.

Knowing it was the last day and that I would now spend a week unable to see Mistress I craved Her marks. Something that would allow to feel Her even when there’s a few miles between us.

Mistress appeared cane in hand and instructed me on to the bench. All my muscles tensed in apprehension as I gently placed my legs over the bench all whilst eagerly looking at Mistress with equal parts excitement and nerves. I couldn’t bring myself to lie flat on the bench, Mistress doesn’t seem to do gentle. The menacing smile greeted me as Mistress ordered me down, subtly reminding me that She could and would use the belt should I move. The nerves changed, it was no longer about whether I could take the caning but how would I force myself to remain still for it.

10. Mistress kindly promised the first 10 would have no consequence but after that I would take 40 with no movement. Apprehension overtook me, I managed to plead a warm up spanking but it was only postponing the inevitable. My warm-up was more luke warm but I was grateful for anything, to feel Mistress against me, to have a few extra minutes to try and compose myself and to relax into an introduction of pain. Then it came. The first 5 hits in quick succession barely giving me time to breathe let alone move. Mistress seemed happy with my efforts and rewarded me with and another 5 harder strokes. The Mexican heat was taking full effect causing my taut muscles to already start crying sweat. I had taken 10 but it hurt, sitting up on my knees I found myself once again pleading with Mistress. Begging Her that 10 would be enough. Her nails in my back and the ever reassuring provocative voice lured me back down. My non existent nails dug deep into the soft leather of the bench as I forced my face into the material. I had to remain still. The next 5 sent convulsions racing up my back, each felt harder than the last, each intended to fill me with painful ecstasy and every strike achieving. I felt myself drift back into my bubble, all that remained was the bewitching smile of my Mistress as I dared to glance back, Her enchanting lips retaining full control of my mind and body, alluring and instantly seducing me as I remembered their sweetness.

It wasn’t long before Mistress proudly told me of the blood. She always seemed filled with an innocent glee on seeing the first blood drawn. A clean split in my right cheek. Before I regained my posture the cold bamboo reaffirmed itself against my skin. More blood, more splits. After the 35th hit I could feel Mistress’s frustration grow at how uneven my bottom marks. My teeth dug deep into the black leather attempting to hide my screams. Emotion dripping from my eyes as I held myself down. The tension in my back had formed an arch forcing my body to take everything Mistress intended to give and yet every chance I got to see Her face, the tears, the fear, it all seemed irrelevant and a big grin resurfaced. My grin greeted by an equally mischievous one on Mistress’s passionate face filling me with empowerment, leaving me on top of the world and ripping any shed of doubt from my body so all that remained was my need to please Her.

One of my favourite characteristics of Mistress is that Her sadism is only beaten by Her kindness. Without hesitation once the 50 were done, I was instructed to place A towel next to Her so I could rest on my knees with my head in Her lap. She knew the reward I craved, to just be able to be still and feel Her. To relax in the pain and just enjoy Her company as She gently touched me and firmly held my head in place. Reassuring me I am safe with Her and that She was happy I took the caning so well.

The night passed and I enjoyed most of it on my knees next to Mistress. My hands allowed to stroke up Her legs rub Her feet and fetch Mistress drinks. Before the night was over I found myself standing next to Mistress amongst the other Dommes. Still dazed and enjoying the vibrant lights I was quickly dragged back to my senses as Mistress demonstrated how strong setting 6 was. Before I could lift myself off the ground I heard Mistress’s alluring voice invite a Lady to press the button once. I’m not convinced the plea’s escaped my mouth before I found my body involentarily hitting the concrete again and again as Mistress continued pressing the button, the evil black box firmly in Her hand. The shocks left me not dissimilar to a fish out of water, desperately trying to breath. As the loud crack of my head hitting the stones the torture finally stopped once again leaving me to crawl to Mistress for comfort and safety.

I would like to say the torment ended there but despite having most my walls down, having tears running down my face and looking like a hot rabbit mess, Mistress was still rather adamant that She wanted to test out setting 7. Covered in fresh grazes and my bottom still weeping from the caning I quietly followed Mistress to Her bedroom. Desperation slowly returning as the realization of what was to happen finally occurred. Feeling like I had nothing left in me I forced myself onto Her bed, anxiety growing as the mental torture riddled me. Once Mistress was happy that I’d called it came. The excruciating shock that left me silent with a pillow held tightly to my face holding back the hollowing scream. Not content with the lack of reaction Mistress’s thumb refriended the button. The second came as a shock sending my body into the air. The third broke me. The pillow that was once comfortably held to my face was thrown across the room and like any good Disney princess I threw myself face down onto Mistress’s bed and cried. Any remaining walls were gone, at my most vunerable self I lie on Her bed with no control of my own fate unable to find the energy to even beg. As the floods of tears escaped my tired eyes I felt Her gently crawl onto the bed. Softly placing Her body on mine, the warmth comforting my shaking as She held me. Is there any other way a person can lie there, bloody, grazed, bruised, crying being cuddled by the sadist and yet feel nothing but grateful, strong, happy and safe. I’m proud to have any association with Mistress and privileged to have Her be the first to make me cry from pain, for Her to be the first whom I wanted to cry and drop all my walls for. Thank You Mistress for being You.