Overstimulation was Daddy’s favorite method of torturing me lately. He left me bound in the strangest positions with a vibrator on my clit while he worked, cooked, or did household chores. For over a month now, my pussy was swollen with need and dripped down my legs wherever I went. I wasn’t allowed to wear panties, and I made a mess wherever I went. It drove Daddy nuts to see how horny, messy, and needy I became; he enjoyed my reliance on him, especially my desperate begging to cum.
Today was meal prep day, and Daddy bound me to one of the wooden kitchen chairs in the perfect view of the stove. He pulled out one of the wider butt plugs, filling me, and making it uncomfortable to sit down. My favorite set of 4 point, soft leather cuffs trapped each ankle to a chair leg, and my wrists were cuffed through the chair behind me. Daddy gagged me with his favorite black-colored ball gag, and used bell nipple clamps on my tits. He fashioned a sort of harness out of soft nylon rope for the remote controlled hitachi wand, and settled it against my clit. Once he made sure that I wouldn’t be able to escape, he turned the vibrator on the lowest setting, and went to the sink to watch his hands.
I watched as he started to pull various items from the fridge and the cabinets, preparing his super anal meal prep setup. Daddy didn’t like when his systems were messed up, and when I tried to help, I hopelessly screwed up his processes. When I messed up his process, I typically ended up in tears with a bruised, sore ass. Sometimes I was bratty and messed up his processes on purpose, but for the majority my missteps were not deliberate. For the most part, I avoided the household tasks that Daddy liked to do, like cooking, and stuck to doing the laundry, ironing, and cleaning.
I whined through the gag when the vibrator turned up a notch, pulling me out of my thoughts to focus on Daddy who was holding the remote to the vibe in his hand. “You’re thinking too hard Babygirl. I want you needy, thoughtless, desperate to cum.” My body trembled at his deep, sexy voice, making the bells tinkle. He chuckled, knowing how turned on his voice alone could make me. I ground my hips into the vibe buzzing away at my clit, “Ah, there goes those pesky thoughts.” Daddy chuckled again.
He bumped up the level of the vibe again, and started pulling pans from the cabinets and ingredients from the pantry and fridge. I strained against the rope around my waist that kept me on the chair. It held taut, digging into my hips. “Awe, Princess, you aren’t getting up from that chair until you are sitting in a fat puddle of your little girl juices.” He laughed at the frustrated shriek that I made when the vibe was turned down, “That puddle might appear faster than I thought.”
I struggled against the cuffs, the bells on my nipples chiming. “You know I love it when you fight, Babygirl.” He stopped looking at me with his very intense gaze, and started focusing on creating something that smelled like pasta. Faint smells of garlic and spices filled the room, but the smell of my juices filled my nose. “Can you sit still Princess? Or am I asking too much of you?”
The vibe started to pulse, aiding my pussy into having its own version of a heartbeat. My head fell back against the top of the chair as the pulses only grew stronger. My mouth tried to form words around the gag, begging for an orgasm. “No, Babygirl. No cummies yet.” The strong pulses stopped and faded into soft vibrations.
My hips swiveled, driving the fat plug deeper into my ass, and causing me to squeal. My eyes made contact with Daddy’s, he bit his lip watching me struggle. I whined, spreading my legs as far as possible so he could look at my soaked pussy. He chuckled, “That puddle is nowhere near big enough, perhaps you don’t need to cum today.”
My legs slammed shut around the vibrator, “Fuck you!” I shrieked.
“Strike one, Princess.” The vibrator turned on the highest setting causing my eyes to roll back in my head. My sensitive clit was assaulted by the strong vibrations. My body fought and started to stiffen as it prepared to allow me to cum. “No cummies Brat,” a light slap hit my cheek, and the vibrator was turned back down.
I struggled for air as Daddy’s fingers tightened my nipple clamps. “Naughty brats don’t get to cum.” Desperate whines filled the kitchen, and drool started to drip onto my bare chest. “You’re getting there Princess. I want you messy, needy, and empty-headed.” His large fingers reached out, trailing up and down my drenched pussy. “This filthy little pussy is mine, and if I want it drippy and needy, then it will be.” Daddy cleaned my juices off his fingers.
As quick as lightning his hands reached out, one around my throat and the other in my hair, yanking my head back. “I want you brainless, rubbing your little pussy on pillows, the couch, your heels, my leg, knowing that you don’t have permission to cum. No, I’m not giving you permission until you deserve it.” He smacked my face, still keeping a tight grip on my hair. Read more »