Her bunny for a week

Surrendering control of my own volition I knelt quietly and eagerly in the collaring position I
Immediately enthralled by Her presence, the rose and Her gleaming smile at the airport I felt all my nerves dissipate. The baggage worries and fears that I would let Her down before even meeting Her all seemed irrelevant at this point. A red fur coat and hat only added to Her already boldly elegant image among mere mortals. I was immediately glad that I Had arrived in leather trousers rather than something super comfy, I needed Her to like me.

The spa was a delightful treat and gentle introduction, relaxed time to talk and get to know one another and yet the tone for O/our time together was immediately set. All the teasing before arriving in Romania, all the carnal lust and desire that came off less than subtle on my part was now due to be paid in full with geisha balls in my vulva and a first shower to never be forgotten. Standing in the public showers of the glorious spa, only a thin marble half wall separating us from those that would never know of our deviances, Matriarch Ezada calmly mounted my leg with Hers, a flood of warm liquids running down my thigh before being washed away by the drain. I could barely make eye contact as She marked me the way nature marks its property. Walking around the vicinity with the secret scent coating my left leg as I tried not to blush into oblivion. My swimsuit wetting before we had even come close to the pools. My first task was to deliver drinks to Her sunbed, nervous and yet almost skipping off I went to find the bar and return with some sweet delights. The warm smells of relaxation filling my lungs did little to calm my senses or the giddiness of being controlled, not knowing where we were and having all but my phone taken away from me at the airport. Entirely at Her mercy and we had not even stepped foot into the dungeon. On return I knew what She would like, kneeling, smiling, my knees against the cold floor as I offered the drinks to Matriarch to taste and decide which She prefers, mine “of course” was then made extra special with more saliva than I knew a person could produce in one mouthful. Every action so intentional, precisely designed to remind me that despite looking like equals, despite being amongst those that may never learn the pleasures of giving up control, we were not.

The day continued with easy frustration and a fury of denial and pleasure. Denied an orgasm for 7 days and yet beneath the waters, with the cold outdoor air toying with my mind, Her hands wandered into everyplace they desired. To massage Her feet at the bottom of the sunbed knowing I could not kiss or worship, to have such an incredible view of Her body but for every time I place my hands upon Her without permission I would add numerous numbers to the tally that was being accumulated. At times it felt worth it, 5 strokes to feel Her bottom in my hands under the water, to run my fingers along Her skin as I could not help but deepen my breaths and look to Her lips, to feel Her realness on me and know this was not a dream. My hands would recover from the consequence but the memory of Her soft scent and gentle touch would be burned upon my thoughts.


Matriarch's romantic voice flooding across me with compliments and kindness and my name for Her “bunny” to which I could only blush and bury my face deeper into Her strong thighs. Melting into Her as I tried to hide my embarrassment, so focused on Her and Her desires I don’t recall if anyone looked or noticed my moans escaping as She relentlessly teased me. Reminding me of the denials I had already forgone. When returning the marble and the water I knelt without worry or thought of my own image below Her, hiding in the corner as Her champagne flowed freely into my lips. Overflowing with a sharp acidic liquid I tried to swallow what I could, I wanted to taste Her, all of Her. I could see Her eyes shining beneath the heart glasses, Her soft pink lips pursed in the pleasure of my attempts to consume luxe flow in between near gags. Once allowed to stand I jokingly mentioned Matriarch needing a little hydration and without thinking also consumed my own drink. Not only did I forget to ask permission to drink but so enamoured with Her beauty and my own embarrassment I forgot that only mere moments before had I been instructed not to drink a thing so Her taste could linger on my tongue. 50 strokes added.

Walking into the House of Sinn was more than I anticipated, greeted by Her chattel poodle and watching the precise manner in which he greeted Her and removed Her shoes, toured the entire place and finally returning to the Goddess in Her bedroom to be told of my rules whilst under Her care.

To wear Her heavy metal collar at all times
To learn and remember the rituals and always be ready to obey
No drinking without permission unless the water from my dog bowl
Ask permission to pee
No limits, no safewords, pure submission.

A list that perhaps seemed daunting to write but in the moment felt so comforting and easy. No choices, no need to care about myself. Free from the shackles of society and restraints of my mind. my only job whilst with Her was to obey and focus on Matriarch and hope to make Her smile and enjoy having me at Her feet and under Her control. Her beautiful voice softly caressing my ears as my humanity was stripped away. The metal holding my wrists and throat and vulva a constant reminder of my position and purpose. The desires to rebel that for the last few years had haunted my nature stripped down, the bratty returning to gleefully playful like a puppy excited to make their Master smile. Wandering hands caressing my skin, Her plum lips touching mine. I wanted for no desires of my own, I craved to push through the embarrassment and humiliation I had grown to hate and surrender to Her. to give all that I was and all that I could be to Her to mould. To brake if She whispered break, to heal when She wanted me to heal. Safe and warm despite my flesh being naked and restrained my soul felt free and danced to the opera in the distant background.

Not permitted to drink anything but the water from the dog bowl. Kneeling down, palms against the floor I craved the cold liquid between my lips, sipping at the bowl to pull it into my mouth. My nose wet with the attempts to drink like an animal but the water felt good. I could feel Her calm presence watching me from the bed, Her playful demeanour smiling at my attempts as I emptied the bowl in desperation. Without thinking I shook the remnants of fluid from my nose ring like a puppy shaking off the rain. She smiled. Her dark brown eyes elated with power looking down at me as I realised my behaviour and immediately felt the blood rush to my cheeks. Nuzzling Her legs to hide my blushing face from view as though Her soft skin would calm the electricity in the air.

Bathtime was a new experience, the pressure to run a perfectly temperate bath without knowing Her preferences, preparing the room for Her arrival as my shackles jingled together. Watching Her curves reveal themselves as She allowed me to undress Her perfect body. Like a Greek Goddess in stature I knew not where to look to avoid being rude or impolite and yet couldn’t quite manage to deny myself a generous glimpse as She lowered into the warm bubbles and created a vision to be burned into the minds of all. I was to be Her table, to hold Matriarchs tray of treats and eventually be placed on all fours, my head lowered into the toilet as She enjoyed the array poodle had prepared. I craved Her attention, Her touch. I stayed as still as I could manage, my knees crushing against the cold floor beneath the towel, my back itching to stretch, my face staring at the bowl wanting nothing more than to see Her beauty. Crushed chocolates, Her fluids coating the sweetness, forced to consume the treats I adored with no time to revel in their flavours. I had been in the presence of this Queen for less and a day and already found myself enthralled, desperate to please Her as the body is desperate to breathe. Unquestioning, unconscious, unconditional desire to obey Her whatever the my reward was not what I expected even though no expectations had been held, to bathe in a bath scented with Her champagne. Kneeling in the warm water, bubbles caressing my tattoos as I knew my predicament.

Drinking from my bowl near felt natural now, I no longer thought of the glass, the uncomfortable position. Seeing my face in the bowl reflection as I sipped up the cold fluid comforted me, an odd comfort like the warm hug of behaving without question. Blindly following beauty into all the crevices of Hell, trusting Her to drag me out if I fell too deep into the eternal flames of Tartarus, She surprised me in the softness, Her gentle touches and desire to hold, the same lips that had spoken degradations to my soul being those that warmed me, Long black hair that is so striking and yet each strand vulnerable and soft under the heat, Her strength only heightened by Her caring disposition and acts. Falling further under Her power with every second spent in Her presence, the needs to protect myself from pain that fill me on a daily basis dissipating into pointlessness. my only remaining need to be of Her.

Waking up in Her arms with little Ezada in mine, Her warm touch welcoming into the realm of the conscious. First a kiss upon Her foot to begin the day, the calming reassuring of a day of excitement. Filled with a nervous anticipation of everything that was to come, would I be able to meet Her sadism, would I rebel on camera and embarrass myself? After being allowed coffee’s and time to prepare myself for the day I was sharply placed in the cage at the foot of Her bed with little Ezada for comfort. Barely enough space in the cage for me to kneel with my head to the floor I waited, and waited and waited. Little moans escaping as my knees numbed and yet the room hadn’t even been set for filming. This wasn’t for show, this was for Her. ignored and left to suffer the blood slowing through my arteries as She prepared everything. No choice, no question as to whether I wanted to remain there. Locked in and unable to move, just about able to peek at Matriarch on the bed entertaining Herself on the phone with little concern for what I was doing. Controlled and calm, She had no questions as to Her position as Matriarch of Her kingdom, no insecurity as to whether Her will would be carried out. The whole house existing for Her desires alone.

By the time filming began I struggle to pull myself out the cage, unable to move my legs until I was kneeling at Her feet, watching as She enjoyed the breakfast platter poodle and I had prepared earlier that day, hungry for Her, hungry for Her attentions. Anything spoken was remembered including my weakness for textures. Chewing my favourite foods and those I despised up into a bowl of already lumpy yoghurt She prepared my breakfast. I wanted to continue kissing Her feet, to taste Her on my tongue, worship every inch of Her as She deserves to be worshipped. I gagged at the first mouthful spooned in and then the second and the third. Struggling to chew and swallow the gruel that could have been delicious if it were not so revolting in texture. Her gleaming smile as I struggled, carefully cleaning my face with the spoon like a baby struggling to keep breakfast down. Forcing the entire bowl down my throat like a sadistic Mother.

It was clear Matriarch has a penchant for suffering of all natures whether it be with pain or apparently denying and humiliating me until I gagged and wriggled in discomfort knowing I was Her’s to do with as She pleased. No human rights left, not even human if that is what She so desired. my vulva leaking in its steel cage. The sticky liquid a reminder of my denial and the suffering I would need to endure should I wish it’s release.

The bed scenes provided little relief to my growing frustrations, eyes sparkling with nefarious intent as my thighs were tormented, beaten with a paddle I was so sure wouldn’t hurt. Unrelenting slaps against the most sensitive skin. To begin I kept my calm and composure, adamant I would do Her proud and take the punishment with dignity but they kept coming and coming. The burgundy leather burning into the already red marks. The paddle performing Her desires upon my flesh. Struggling was futile, if anything it seemed to rile Matriarch into harsher and harsher strokes until Her bottom held my face down and distracted me from the pain that would not subside thanks to Her efforts.

Quickly restrained with leather, my legs wide open, plugged bottom, nylon clad feet on my throat as I squirmed to Her touch. Nowhere to be but at Her Mercy/ in sheer bedwear I could not keep my eyes from Her natural elegance, always above me. Her voice so calm and twisting as it filled the room with promises of frustration and pleasure. I held my hands together over my head removing the compulsion to touch without consent. Teasing Her doxy onto my cage, alighting my vulva with renewed hope, Aphrodite Herself, alluding bewildering as I watched the sharp metal clamps be wrapped around the cable, the vibrations constantly rending the chains sadistic. I could smell Her arousal, Her desire for my suffering and submission as She explained in no uncertain terms my denial. Torturous pulls of the cable as She lowered Her beautiful peach onto my face. Her alluring pheromones distracting my vision as I lay entirely exposed and vulnerable, a monochrome of pains, slaps to all the vulnerable areas, my nipples pulled and twisted with each grinding motion. Moans escaping out, cries of pain melting into Her pleasurable moans. My tongue allowed to taste Her. vibrating on my face, grinding onto my tongue as I focused on only Her bottom. Running my eager lips and tongue over Her soft hole as Matriarch moans and breathlessness overtook. The world fading away into a humming silence. I wanted to be there all day, all eternity. Offering my body for Her pleasure but it was not Her will. Denying Her own orgasm She returned to torment. Laughing in a symphony of cruel intentions as She pulled the clamps from my breasts forcing screams from my shaking body and then continued massaging the soreness into my breasts. Looking up at Her made the abrupt stings bearable. Squirming from my frustrations, hoping I had pleased Her and was not the reason for Her denial. I craved to have Her climax on my tongue. To be the reason She screamed out in ecstasy.

Bewitched by Her beauty and elegant grace I knelt once before Her restrained in adjusted chains to allow for my unexpected flexibility. Gagged forcing my mouth to remain at Her service regardless of my struggles the hardest moment occurred. Choking on Her smoke, afraid to choke at Her face I tried to aim it away but was immediately pulled back to Her service. Malicious ash spread across my tongue, burning and staining. The rough fibres course against my soft lips as She pushed them in. Burning them into my tongue they lie there, anguishing my now dry tongue. Her alluring disposition, dark shadows bring out the deviance in Her eyes as She reveled in my struggle. Something that I thought would be so easy from the few previous experiences was a constant struggle. Focusing on Her smile as She continued to fill my mouth with venomous ash until the last of the cigarette was placed in there as a trophy to Her power over me. Spitting continuously into my open hole, wetting the grimy greyness into a paste until I was finally permitted to spit it into a bin.

I knew I would regret telling Her of my nightmare about the coffee. From the little time we had spent together I knew it would simply feel inspired by the dreams that brought distress and yet my mouth ran away regardless. I had set my own fate and despite my pleas not reaching sympathetic ears I found myself kneeling in the kitchen, coffee made. A long espresso I craved to feel warming my throat and yet instead I found my face warmed by Her soft, sharp hand. Awoken to the reality I found the space between flesh and metal once more wet with a familiar unwanted stickiness. Her pink sheer gown complimenting Her toned complexion as I was instructed to pee in my own empty water bowl. Struggling to release under the embarrassment I squeezed out a small, un-hydrated pee. Unsatisfied with the humiliation, Matriarch positioned me over the bowl, Her hand holding my hair back, chains crashing against the bowl as I tried to position myself. Nylons resting against me, Her heels removed to allow for a better angle as the warm fluids ran down my breasts into the bowl and all over the floor. So much pee pouring into my bowl, filling it up with only space for the expression shot to top it off. Like no latte I have ever enjoyed. Pushing my face into the bowl, drinking all the fluids. The embarrassment overtaking me, blushing, moaning, near tears at the embarrassment of drinking both our fluids with the coffee I desired. Matriarchs' strength pulling me about, slapping the fluids from my face and breasts as She laid Her glorious hands upon me, no matter the puppy eyes of cries I was reduced to less than an animal. A dirty toy that would do whatever She desired regardless of my thoughts. The weight of Her delicate foot pushing me back down into the mess, cleaning the floors whilst constantly degraded by Her luxurious voice. Apologising for my slowness and mess, desperation pouring from me, mixing in with the fluids covering my dirty body.

The experience was degrading beyond my compare and yet I didn’t feel unwanted or dirty inside. A slight pride that I was doing as I was told for once, focusing on what She needed me to be rather than what I wanted to do (or didn’t want). I had forgotten what I felt like, to give up all that I am or could be and simply do what was asked to the best of my ability. To feel inferior and owned even if it was only temporary. I had forgotten what it was like to let my cold steel walls fall down and be selfless. To concern myself without nothing outside these walls, to live in a kingdom where I was nothing more than an object to be Owned.

Alight with mischief and curiosity, ready to do my utmost best to make this experience work and behave for Her. I was feeling stretched and energised after the break, entirely enchanted by Matriarch Ezada Sinn I was ready to continue pleasing Her and had no doubt that at some point it would be uncomfortable in at least one way.

Vulva whipping was only made worse by the presence of a sjambok, nowhere to run and no escape from the pain as I was pinned against the wall. Hit after hit I squirmed to no avail, begging and pleading proved as useful as an umbrella in a lightning storm. She was a vision in black, sensational sadism reverberated through the room, echoing off the walls until it hit me. Soaking into my flesh as each strike kissed my skin with brutality. my feet aching in 6” louboutins that I naively brought to look cute whilst kneeling. The pain bouncing from my thighs into my spine and spreading throughout my body like a toxin I equally desired and paralysed. Gagged once more into silence I tried to remain quiet and calm but each strike bore through my flesh into my soul. Sparks of sadism firing off the Goddess and burning into me. The more I struggle the more energised She seemed to become. Unrelenting, relentless. I couldn’t escape the torment and yet I struggled to endure

my flexibility earlier accidentally witnessed now became my own punishment. The shackles changed to keep my leg and wrists in the air. Nowhere to fall to and little balance remaining in the one foot I had free. Each moment throwing me into a twirl like a ballerina on acid. The whip was what I feared most. Not for the pain but the unpredictability and the knowing if I was to let my masochism down now would be the moment. I had really struggled to take the whip at all the last few years to the point I had begun to wonder if I could anymore without growling or pulling at the chains. Strung up playfully, my thighs on full show and only one ceiling point holding me up I wanted to give this to Her, to know it was Her favourite thing and disappoint in this moment I knew She wouldn’t want to play with me again. Spinning with each hit, holding in the cries as the leather spitefully caressed my skin. Her feminine smile rewarding my struggles with every turn. my toes pointed in anguish as I tried to protect my delicate reasons. The rubber sjambok returning with vengeance. Her words so warming and flattering whilst She wielded the implement with elegance and grace. Striking again and again with no mercy. Choking on my own breath as I struggled to breath, desperate to make Her happy with my endless suffering. Crying out in whimpers and sweat dripping down me. I cried into the abyss, please, begging, crying out for sympathy that wasn’t present. She was right. All I wanted was to crawl at Her feet but instead I remained on foot. Vulnerable, aching for Her. the world spinning away in a chaotic whirlwind of ecstasy and torment.

This was only the beginning of Her fun. The twin whips were brought out and with them my sobering nervousness returned. I escaped from the cuffs with my struggles to escape them, desperate to remain silent for Her as I couldn’t close my arms or legs. Rendered defenceless not that self defence was desired. Heavy breathing escaped my dry lips as I tried not to cry, held myself standing to take what She desired, what She knew I deserved. Hands touching my flesh with enchanting calmness in between moments of desperation. Starting at the key upon Her decolletage, sparking innocently. The glittering calming me, reminding me to breathe as I faded into the fire of ceremonious licking and cracking of leather as it corrected my skin.
Each kiss of Her whips feeling more vitriolic than the last, like the whips themselves had taken on Her desire to break me, that they wanted to sting harder, wrapping their tendrils across my flesh, trying to reach each other again. Her facetious smile filling the room with each moment of agony, although the pain only lie at a 6, the relentless accumulation saw little time for me to calm my breathing and find solace in the torment before the next strokes caught me again. The filming did not exist, there was no show or performance. Encased in Her deviant charms and feminine wiles. I fell forward but moved nowhere. my body shivering with endorphins from every crack as the whips lay again and again on my carbon form. Enslaving me to their pain as I held back the tears. Two in one hand kissed my skin seconds apart, the double strikes flooding through me, burning through my living corpse until the nylons were drenched in my desire to please. Aroused by Her enjoyment, scents of lust and agony filling the room, alerting all who could witness how much I craved Her touch, be it gentle or cruel. Her attention was all I could think of. No reprise, no mercy and I took it all. For Her. Ubi amor, ibi dolor.

Impervious to my cries She continued, I thought the whipping would never cease. An eternal torment held captive by my frustration and carnal desire. my very core shaking at the thought of Her touch. A kiss on the forehead and it was all over..

Purring in her lap between shoots, nestled into Her thighs and softly nibbling and licking as She played with my hair, a continuous sub space that connected all the scenes seamlessly and allowed me not to need to awaken from the state at Her feet. Kneeling for Her.


Dressed as Her pony, perhaps the most anticipated moment given it was one of our first conversations. Pink and black leather covering my body, allowing Her to ride me. I was going to be strong for Her, lifting Her up upon my back, seeing Her in the mirror in all Her glory, leather cuddling me. I neighed and did my best to be the bestest pony and not risk Her balance for fear of punishment: but no good deed goes unpunished. The bit gag had me dribbling all over the floor, making a mess of Her dungeon room, teasing me once more with my mess. Chained to the wall by the bit, nowhere to move or go. Her power overwhelming as She spanked and cropped my already marked bottom, mounting me in reverse to rest Her exquisite bottom on my back as She admired how wet She was making me with each stroke. Arching my back to connect with Her as the strikes pained me. No matter how good I could be, I wasn’t going to escape the sadism that flowed so freely through Her veins. Her pleasure from my pain. Pinning me flat to the floor with Her heels, the shining sparkle of the spurs spinning on Her heels floating me away as I was instructed to take it, take whatever She desired. my vulva pulsing with each hit as I subdued into a calming state of giggling, moaning, submission. my bottom rising to meet Her, welcoming the crop with each stroke until Matriarch became bored of the crop and got ready to prepare the giant horse cock.

Mounting me with the cock she slid in it with the ferocious force of a true stallion, taking what was Hers, my wet hole gripping the pink toy with anguish as She thrust and pushed inside me. Moans of pleasure dribbling from the bit as She continued over and over. No orgasm for a week and my desperation swallowed it whole. I wished I could see Her, perring round from my face on the floor but unable to truly see Her.

Once more on my back and chained I found myself ready to attempt to take the giant cock in my bottom. First playing with my wet hole, Her fingers toying with me, teasing my clit and controlling the sounds whimpering out. Her gold earring dangling, framing Her perfect complexion as SHe pushed Herself inside me, the pain as She pushed through my pelvic bones, stretching me, taking me. Taking everything from me until I was a blushing, softly moaning toy on the table. Desperate for Her to take me, begging Her to fuck me, begging to feel Her inside me, Her power pushing into as She stared into my soul. Teasing me with the doxy, edging me over and over until I wanted to cry with pure desperation. The tormenting sounds of Her encouraging my pleasure and then removing at the last moment. Leather dripping from Her silhouette like the sun alighting the moon's beauty. Each edge had me crying out in torment, barely seconds of the doxy was all it took each time to drag me to the edge. Wickedly playful taunts as Matriarch moved onto my bottom, Her fingers caressing the hole, encouraging it to relax ready for the toy. So close to squirting and yet once more denied with a slap to my vulva.

Impervious to my adoring puppy eyes and cute charm She stood true to Her promise of not being gentle as the dildo ripped through me. My scream filling the room, opening my legs again to inspect, Her red lips pursing to notice the pain but Her care came with a choice. To take the cock and suffer the pain of such a large toy inside my bottom or to be denied the orgasm I had desired for over a week. Once more surrendering to Her choice, wanting to please Her “please fuck me Matriarch” uttered from my shy lips. Sliding the toy inside with soft force I took it, pushing and fucking her giant cock inside until I melted in the mess that coated me. Doxy on my tormented clit, the pain distracting from the orgasm, marked thighs burning against the lube as I begged Her to fuck me. Spitting on me like a dirty slut, encouraging my orgasm until I climaxed so hard my spirit could have left my body. Forcing the cock out with sheer convulsions, still tormented by the doxy and unable to escape its vibrations I eventually relaxed back to the table, legs spread wide. Inviting. Her entire sliding into my vulva as I groaned in ecstasy, the chains shaking with pleasures as I could do nothing but thank Her.

Ambiguous silence filled the air as I realised Her nefarious plan had now come to full fruition, sensitive, pleasured, sore and still to take the caning. What would usually be my favourite part was much more difficult than I would desire. Lying there with my legs held to the air, covered in my own mess and cum, I could do nothing but to take all She wished to gift me. Sharp strokes overtook my body, each one preceded by the next with no break or notable rhythm. The cane reverberated across my flesh, perpetual slices of bamboo into my taut skin. Excruciating… until it wasn’t. Once more catching the glittering silver and gems of the key around Her neck I found my calm, screams and cries softening to giggles and moans, my vulva once more becoming wet with uncontrollable arousal. Her scent controlling my mind until all that was left was a writhing, wanting mess of a bunny. Desiring Her in all Her glory, intoxicated by Her in every way. Her sadism feeding my submission, Her smile cheering me to success as I floated away into the ocean of euphoria, my head underwater but I could breathe. She had given me the power to breathe and the strength to take it. Noticing my resolve, Matriarch decided to awake me with counting in Romanian, counting with me until the numbers were branded in my mind. Unu, doi, trei, patru, sase. Each time I carelessly forgot the number 5. Each time She helped me remember and then continued the sets of 10 until it was clear I just couldn’t think. Cinci, cinci, cinci, cinci, CINCI. The last five of fives and She was content. I am not sure I could still recall them from I know I shall be practising before I next see Her.

Cascading into my mouth and dribbling down my breasts as I tried my best to consume as much of Her as I could, choking on the influx of golden liquids as She smiled down at me, enjoying me on my knees and secretly desperate for any taste of Her. It no longer felt embarrassing but a moment I craved, to taste Her in any capacity, Her champagne, Her spit, anything She would give me. To feel Her on me, warming me after a long day of being Hers. Showering was nothing short of a moment from a Midsummers night dream, washing Her body, touching all of Her as I gently cleaned Her soft skin. She then took the mitt and caressed the marks and stripes across my skin, softly washing away the shame and humiliation, cleaning me like an embarrassed child. I just wanted to kneel and curl up at Her feet forever.

In contradiction to the day the moment of Rabbit came when I dropped a precious House of Sinn champagne flute. Having spent so long preparing the tray to reflect my appreciation of Her I smashed the glass across the floor and cut Her hand. Speechless watching Her shock and disappointed at the most simple task of the day being ruined by my clumsiness, my smile faded and I immediately tried to clear everything up as best I could. Knowing there would be a punishment I tried not to complain or excuse my behaviour and instead snap myself out of the sadness of ruining the day so that I might still be able to serve Her in the evening. Trying not to cry at my own mistake I cleared up as quick as I could and once more knelt at Her feet hoping Her wrath wouldn’t lead me caged alone overnight.

Instead I was promised I would pay for my mistake the next day and allowed into bed, to massage Her feet after wearing beautiful heels all day, to kiss them goodnight. Tispy on the champagne enjoyed from Her mouth I snuggled up, held tight and safe and drifted into dreams of the wonderful day we had had. Her arms warm against my naked skin, the collar heavily reminding me of where I was, comforting in it’s weight.

Ominous tranquillity filled the bedroom as I awoke. Mini Ezada still warm in my arms but the true Matriarch was missing from the cold cotton sheets. Jumping up out of bed for fear of keeping Her waiting, I made my way through the House of Sinn, hoping I hadn’t missed Her this morning. Thankfully I was greeted with smiling faces as I found Matriarch and poodle enjoying a morning tea in the kitchen, A kiss to the foot and then I was permitted to make myself a latte all whilst trying to ignore the open case on the table.

Kneeling at Her feet, coffee on the side, I was told of the electrics. My obedience vitiated by the overwhelming fear of electrics approaching my vulva. Compulsion forced me to move away, like magnets repelling each other the closer the metal prongs got the further away I felt my body being pushed. I knew I was disappointing Her and this was little punishment to take for smashing one of Her favourite glasses but no matter what rationality I screamed in my own mind, no matter the Matriarch's threats to restrain me and make it worse it did no good. An invisible wall surrounding me, impermeable glass that pushed me all over the kitchen as I begged and pleaded, promising I was trying. She finally managed to electrocute my delicate area that was already still sore from the prior days' adventures and the lack of pain flooded me with guilt as to how silly it was I didn’t just take it the first time She asked.

After a few hours of alone time with poodle to stretch out my tired muscles and help with tidying and cleaning the House, Matriarch returned. Kneeling before Her the collar was removed. For sure a heavy object it didn’t feel liberating to not wear it, I missed it the moment it left my neck and craved to feel it again. The warming metal bouncing on my collar bones, the soreness, the constant moving the ring in the centre and untangling my hair. It felt like a little part of me was being left at the House of Sinn as we ventured off into Bucharest for a quick tour and hot chocolate before my flight.

The cold doesn't bother me, if anything I find it invigorating but wearing Her new fur coat around the town like a child playing dress up was sweet. I adore the care She placed and concern for my well being despite Her Sadism near wanting to tear the flesh from my bones mere hours earlier. The hot chocolate was wonderful but more so Her contagious excitement at the historic building and unique serving experience. A sweet end to a magical trip, cuddling Her in the car all the way until we dropped Her off, my head resting on Her lap and once more then purr escaping as She touched and stroked me. Her cold hands warms on my heated body. Giving Her one last part of me before we parted ways.

“It's hard for an educated woman to turn her head off. That's part of the joy of being a submissive. None of the decisions are yours. When you can't refuse anything and can't even move, those voices in your head go silent. All you can do, and all you are permitted to do, is feel.”
― Cherise Sinclair, Dark Citadel

"The choice for mankind lies between freedom and happiness and for the great bulk of mankind, happiness is better."

“Without pain, without sacrifice, we would have nothing”