Daddy and I are having a sort of long-distance erotic vacation this week. He instructed me to share all the ways he’s teased, tormented, and denied me the last few days. This directly follows my previous post, where I described how generous he was with all the orgasms after having me on no-touch. It’s only been a few days since then, but the denial frustration and high are both very real already.On Tuesday, Daddy decided he wanted me to try a simple crotch rope. He explained how to do it, and I followed his instructions, as it was my first time ever wearing one. Then, he wanted to see a cupcake harness on his breasts. I’m brand new to breast bondage, so we both knew this was going to be tricky for me to try to apply to myself. I managed to get one breast pretty well-tied and I liked the way it looked and felt way more than I thought I was going to. I couldn’t manage the other side, though, no matter how hard I tried.We switched gears and Daddy explained how to tie a simple chest harness instead. I did that with his instructions and enthusiastic approval. There was a good length of rope leftover and he instructed me to tie the crotch rope to the chest harness, so it pulled up on his clit and ass every time I moved. I loooved it, but he wasn’t done.It was time for the nipple suckers again, this time actually on his nipples instead of his clit. He made me tighten them by twisting a quarter-turn at a time, every few minutes, until they were red, swollen, elongated, and sending electric pulses directly to his clit. He left me to continue my daily activities around the house at that point, and I loved catching glimpses of myself in the mirrors, wearing nothing but the rope and suckers and a pair of heels. The slave vibes were unreal and I wanted to be bent over the nearest horizontal surface and fucked silly.I had to go out to do some errands that afternoon. The suckers had to come off for that, but he made me leave the rope on, under my dress, with nothing else – no bra or panties. I felt so naked even though I obviously wasn’t. So vulnerable. So owned.Later that evening, he made me let him watch as I followed his directions in using a pole as a tourniquet, over and over for his entertainment, slipping it under the ropes and rotating it to pull them tighter, torturing his tits, pulling the rope tighter and harder against his ass and pussy and clit.Daddy then made me put chained clamps on his nipples and clit. The one on his clit felt so so good I told him it was dangerous because I knew I wasn’t allowed to cum. He made me put a drop of hot sauce on each nipple and on his clit. I whimpered, but did so, thinking he was just trying to keep me from cumming so I could suffer with the clamps longer.I was wrong. The final element of my torture that night was when Daddy ordered me to rub his clit to a hard edge for him…with my hand doused in hot sauce! Not the drops like before, covered. He made it very clear how serious he was about that part.I figured, if I was going to do this, I was going to get it right the first time, so I covered my hand until it was dripping with hot sauce. I started rubbing his clit like I always do, and at first, I thought, “Oh, this is good, I don’t know what I was so afraid of…” Then it hit for real. It burned like his pussy was on fire. But I am Daddy’s little pain toy, so I also loved it, I loved how difficult it was, how overwhelming it was, how depraved it was. It took longer than it usually would, but I got a hard edge for Daddy, and then stopped.A whole new layer of pain descended upon me. The second I stopped rubbing his clit, it stopped being fun pain. It became very real, very intense, and very consuming. As fast as I could, I asked Daddy to let me get in the shower, even though I knew that probably wasn’t going to help anything (I mean, when you eat something too spicy, drinking water doesn’t help), but I needed to do something because I was starting to panic. I wasn’t afraid I was injured, I think it was just the fear of losing control over the pain.He let me immediately, and I used the handheld shower sprayer with cold water directly on his pussy. It must have been a placebo effect, but it definitely helped! By the time I was out, everything still burned, but it was back to the very masochistic pleasant degree of pain, the kind I could enjoy, the erotic kind. And I felt like I’d just completed a marathon, or climbed a mountain. The feeling of accomplishment and submission and the pain endorphins were so intoxicating. We had some aftercare and I slept so well that night.The next day, Daddy had me get back into the crotch rope and chest harness again, and praised me for being so much faster this time! I had more errands to do today, this time wearing the rope under a short flared skirt and a button-down shirt. Specifically, he sent me to Home Depot for hose clamps. I barely knew what those were and had only the vaguest idea of what he planned to do with them. He told me, but I was so subspacey by then that my pretty little slutty head really couldn’t hold onto the information. He had also given me very specific instructions on how I was to flash him once there, so my mind was occupied on the thrill and nervousness of that.This skirt is short. I mean, it barely covers my ass. I was pretty nervous walking through the parking lot, but once I got inside and was pretty much in the company of only old men, I relaxed a good bit and began to enjoy myself. I wandered the aisles, looking for a corner of the store that was relatively deserted in which to follow Daddy’s instructions. I ended up first in an aisle, staring at decking screws for a looong time, waiting for the coast to clear. I was planning to tackle the first and scariest task first: taking a photo for Daddy flashing his bare (except for the very notable rope) ass and pussy while I bent over in my little skirt for him.I was getting more and more worked up with nervousness as every time the aisle emptied enough for me to set up my phone to take the picture, another man would wander up the aisle! Aware of how long it was taking and that I was starting to sweat from nerves, I decided I would be a brave little slut and handle the easiest of the tasks even with someone else in the aisle. I lifted the front of my skirt up and snapped a quick picture of Daddy’s naked pussy on display, rope snug between his pussy lips, before dropping the skirt back down again quickly. Good thing, too, because an employee rounded the corner just as I did.I abandoned that aisle feeling good about having one of the three done, and wandered to the kitchen sink section. It was much easier there, closer to the back of the store. I set up my timer, turned my back on the camera and bent down low, ass up, as per Daddy’s instructions. I reviewed it and it was perfect…he’d be able to just see his pussy lips peaking between my thighs. But what if that wasn’t what he meant? What if he wanted me to actually lift up my skirt as I did it? I realized I wasn’t sure and better take another rather than risk punishment for getting it wrong. So I did it again, lifting the back of my skirt all the way as I bent down, ass fully on display for him.Now I was feeling proud of myself and had only one task left: showing him both his bound tits at once, shirt unbuttoned and open. This one was a little nerve-racking as it didn’t involve just a flip of fabric. I had to unbutton each individual button, deliberately, slowly, super-aware of what I was doing and why. I took the picture, rope harness in place, buttoned back up, and headed to find the hose clamps and check out.Once home, I showed Daddy my success, and received lots of praise for being such a good slut. He wasn’t nearly done with me, though. Remember the cupcake bondage I couldn’t quite achieve the day before? That’s what the hose clamps were for. And it worked! And they looked hot as hell – sharp, industrial metal tightened around my soft, delicate flesh.Next he instructed me to apply chopstick clamps to my nipples. They were more intense than I expected, very intense, but still more tolerable than those clover clamps from earlier this week. They looked hot, elegant, and cruel and I loved them.But every time I think we’re done…. He made me twist them. I didn’t think I was going to be able to do it. HE wasn’t even sure I was going to be able to do it! But I was at least going to try, and I surprised us both! He made me twist the chopsticks 180 degrees and bind them together that way, so his poor, sensitive nipples were not only clamped hard between them, but also twisted, and secured that way.It was exquisite torture and I was still in the rope, talking to him online, grinding against the rope, wrists floating above my head as though they had a mind of their own and were begging to be restrained. All the pain made me so lust-drunk and subspacey.Then he told me I had one more task to do for him. He made me edge for him for 30 minutes using a soft makeup brush on his clit. It was torture immediately. I felt like I was right on the edge from the third or fourth stroke and 30 minutes has never gone by so slowly in my life. I started out with my normal whimpers and panting and occasional dirty talk to myself, but by the last ten minutes or so, I was dead quiet. All of my concentration was on not cumming. The hardest edge of the whole session – his pussy contracting over and over, leaking my juices for the camera – happened during the final two minutes. But I didn’t know that until I checked the video afterward. I would have sworn on anything holy that I suffered through a good ten minutes more after that – it just felt like an eternity before my timer told me I could stop!Sort of like with the hot sauce the night before, as soon as I stopped touching, I wanted everything off me immediately. The pain from the clamps ratcheted up exponentially and I asked Daddy repeatedly to let me take the clamps off. He finally relented and said that I could remove them, but only after doing 15 jumping jacks for him. I whimpered and whined and again thought there was no way I’d be able to complete this task, but I would try, as I always do. And I was wrong again – I actually did it! Daddy was so proud of me and let me take everything off and praised me for being such a good little pain toy slut and I just basked in the flood of praise and hormones and delicious denial.Today, I’m writing this at his behest, with my jeweled plug in again, my nipples in the suckers again. I’ve been dressed in nothing but this, panties, and a cozy cardigan sweater (open, of course, to accommodate the suckers) around the house all day, doing my daily tasks, looking like a slave toy. And feeling so happy. His pussy is a constantly wet, throbbing distraction and I wish he could keep my like this all the time. female orgasm denial Get your own Orgasm Control toys: For men: http://www.amzn.to/1V6XQvv For women: https://ift.tt/1UWn54n