Day 3

The week of denial was coming to a close and I can barely think straight. My pussy and clit ache unendingly and I feel as if a stream of wetness constantly drips from me. All I can think about is Daddy allowing me to cum. A week ago, I didn't think I'd be this desperate. It's not like I've never done denial before, but this is a different animal entirely. My body shakes slightly, and my hips move, trying for friction, but there is nothing. A desperate moan escapes my lips, but I know it isn't time yet.

Days one and two had been easy and I had thought I would make it through without issue. Then, day three had happened and I had lost my mind.

"Alright, Princess, you've been doing so well! You're my good girl," Daddy said to me and I beamed. I was a good girl. It reaffirmed everything about me to hear my Daddy say it.

"Yes, Daddy," I replied, obediently. I was almost always obedient.

"Tonight, Angel, I'm going to edge you. And you...you are not going to make one sound."

I bit my lip in worry and quirked my mouth. I opened my mouth to protest, but caught myself and my jaw snapped shut. I glared at you instead. Seriously Daddy, I thought.

You chuckled but ignored my glare. I knew an eye roll would get a reaction, but I wasn't quite ready for that. Instead, I flopped down on the bed and crossed my arms. Being quiet is going to suck...and be impossible. Shit. I was going to be funished...and you knew it. My mock annoyance quickly melted to excitement. You stood, watching the emotions play over my face, smiling at me.

You laid one hand on my chest and urged me back, to lay flat. "Now remember Princess, no sounds, except safe words. Do you remember your hand signal Baby?"

I held up my hand and crossed two fingers to show Daddy I did. Nonverbal safe words were important too. You smiled, "Good girl."

I grinned and wiggled, wanting to get closer to you, but with nowhere to go. You grabbed my legs and pulled me, without warning, to the edge of the bed so you could stand between my legs. I yelped and you grinned. "Princess," mock surprise evident in your tone, "No sounds! That's one." And you chuckled.

My mouth opened in an 'O' of surprise but clicked shut. Fuck. I was so excited. I'm so screwed.

Your hands grip my thighs, sliding up and under the short skirt that barely covered anything. You hooked your fingers into my panties and slid a finger along my skin. My jaw tightened as I tried not to moan; your fingers tracing along my panties. You pull them down, just a little, so you can lay your hand on my stomach, my mound, my hips. A moan squeaks out as your hand passes so close to me, my clit aching.

"Two, Princess."

Before I can stop them, my eyes roll and a sound of frustration huffs out. Fuck.

"Princess! You're up to four," you warn, your thumb slipping on top of my clit and pressing hard.

Ohmygod, no sounds! I suck in a breath, but no sounds escape. I try to close my legs, to gather my thoughts, but a tsk from you stops me. I force my muscles to relax as you hold me in place, your thumb still on my clit, but not moving. I want to whine and wiggle, but I know better.

Your eyes rake over me, hungry. A wolfish grin tugs at your mouth and my breath catches. You lean over me, your legs trapping my lower half against the bed and your free hand planted beside my head. Your face hovers over mine and your hand moves a fraction on my clit. I close my eyes and move my hands to wrap around your neck, to bring you closer.

"Princess," you whisper, an unspoken threat in your voice. My eyes fly open and I freeze, my hands halfway around your neck. The hardness in your eyes makes my breath catch, but I see my mistake and drop my hands, wiggling them under the small of my back. You shift just enough to allow the movement. I drop my eyes, excitedly fearful. You'd never hurt me, but a real punishment may be in store if I'm not careful; if I can't follow the rules. I shiver in anticipation and excitement as you hover over me, your legs pinning mine, your hand pressed against my mound and clit, your body and face mere inches from mine. My heart feels like it's going to beat out of my chest.

Your hand leaves me and skates up my body, one finger tipping up my chin until my eyes meet yours. Your eyes trace my face, a smile lifting the corners of your mouth. Your eyes rest back on mine and your hand encircles my neck, firm but not harsh. The caring, want, lust, and possessiveness I see in your eyes makes me melt.

"Mine," you growl, your hand tightening slightly on my neck. Electricity runs through me.

"Yes, Daddy," I breathe.

Your grin turns wicked. Fuck fuck fuck. "That's five, Princess." You hover over me, your lips so close to me, before you stand. I shiver as the cooler air plays over me. I press my lips together but watch you intently.

You can see the trepidation in my eyes; that some of the fun is ebbing. You know I hate getting in trouble, but you just grin. "Middle of the bed Princess. Naked"

I quirk my mouth but obey quickly. I don't know what I'm getting five of, but I hate making mistakes. I settle into the middle of the bed, shivering slightly. I want to curl around you, but I'm a good girl. I quickly strip off my too-short skirt, panties, and tank top. You clear off the bed, except for a pillow. Seeing me shiver again, you lay a small blanket over me. I wiggle under it, pulling my hands and feet closer to me, and smile at you. You always take care of me Daddy.

I haven't forgotten my five, but the temporary reprieve of not making mistakes has lifted my spirits. You move toward me, a blindfold in hand. Shit. Being quiet and surprised? I bite my lip, but obediently take the blindfold and slip it over my eyes. I sense more than feel you still beside me, so I am prepared when your hands run over me on top of the blanket. I shiver again, but keep my mouth closed.

Then your hand is gone, and I'm left wondering. I hear you step away and rummage in drawers. I hear you taking toys out, and my imagination starts to run with me, wondering what you're getting. I hear the jingle of metal on metal and the swish of rope. Silence follows and another shiver runs over me.

Your hand wraps around my ankle and pulls it out from under the blanket, a cuff slipping on and tightening. "Stay, Princess."

Another cuff on my other ankle, extended toward the corner of the bed. Suddenly, the blanket is ripped off me, but I keep my wits and only suck in my breath. You chuckle. I feel another cuff tighten around my leg just below my knee and my brow furrows. Another encircles my other leg. Seemingly too fast, cuffs slide onto my wrists with another command to stay. I can hear you walking around the room and I relax some. Your weight settles beside me. I want to beg to see you, to move, to wrap myself around you, but I don't. One hand settles on my stomach, rubbing in slow circles around. My breath catches as your hand slides down, your fingers opening my lips. Your tongue swipes my clit and for a moment, I forget to breath. Your teeth graze over me and, without warning, I feel coldness at my lips. The change in sensation makes me jump, pulling my limbs in and a yelp escaping. The coldness presses in, an ice cube, and pops into me. No resistance met my limbs when I jerked them, and I realize I hadn't been restrained.

"Oh Princess," you tsk. I straighten my limbs back out quickly, but the damage has been done. "Hm, that should be five more Princess. One for each limb I told to stay and one for your sound."

I clench my jaw. "Seems you're struggling, Princess. Let's help you with that. I'm going to lift my sound and movement restrictions Baby."

I quirk my mouth. There's a catch; there's always a catch.

"I might even let you cum tonight Princess."

As you talk, I feel a collar snap around my neck and shift at your direction so a strap can run down my back. You move my legs, knees bent and soles together. I hear metal clink and when I try to move my legs in curiosity, I realize you've attached my ankle cuffs to the strap connected to my neck. I can't straighten my legs. I feel you take my hands and lay them on my knees. More clinking.

"Touch yourself Princess," you say.

I extend my hands, but my wrists are connected to the cuffs just below my knees. I stretch out my hands and I can reach just the outside of my lips. I strain further and reach a fraction of an inch more before I hear you tsk and feel rope slither around my knees. They pull tight and I am spread open, unable to close, unable to move more than humping the air. A whine tears out of me. "Daddy, please," I beg, my hands stretching toward my clit, but now barely reaching the crease between leg and pussy.

"What's wrong Princess?" you ask, mock concern in your voice.

I huff, "Daddy! I can't touch! I can't reach."

"Hmm, Princess. That does sound like a problem," you say just as I feel another ice cube pressed into me. They're small and smooth and pop in easily. I shiver and suck a breath in. Another ice cube presses in. Cold skates over my nipples and goosebumps break out over my skin. The cold ice trails from my nipples south, over my stomach, stopping on my mound, icy melt dripping over my clit. I shiver and wiggle. A low whine escapes and my hands stretch.

You chuckle, pop the ice cube into my freezing pussy and I feel your weight leave the bed.

"Daddy!" I whine, humping the air more.

"Hush now, Princess."

I hear rope slide through something close to me. What the fuck?

"That's better." I can hear the smugness and self-satisfaction in your voice, but I'm not sure what you've done.

I feel your weight settle between my spread, bent legs, and a contented sigh escaped you.

"No cumming Princess," you say, kissing the inside of my thigh. Your cheek, scratchy from a day's growth, rubs against me and my legs strain to close.

"Yes Daddy."

" No ruins Princess." Another kiss and rub on the other side.

I whine quietly, "Yes Daddy."

Your tongue traces my lips and your fingers glide with them, opening me up to allow access without additional sensation. I try to grab at you, to pull you closer, but can't reach enough. I try to move my hips into you, so your tongue will lick my clit, but you move with me.

After what feels like hours, but is probably only a few minutes, your hand grips me where my legs and pussy connect, and holds me in place, firmly. I whine and try to move, but I am no match. You chuckle. I feel your fingers reposition to be able to hold me open and hold me down simultaneously.

Without warning, your tongue plunges into me and I moan, my head trying to come up. When I move, I feel not only the strap connecting my ankles pull tight, but also new tensions on either side of my neck. You had connected rope to the collar. Oh, shit. I feel panic at my helplessness inexplicably clamor at me. My breathing quickens, but before the panic can bloom, your mouth covers my clit, your tongue circling it and lapping it like a dead man clinging to life. The sudden sensation wipes the panic from my mind, and I try to arch into you. Your teeth gently take hold as you suck my clit up, holding it as your tongue bats it back and forth.

My breath catches and I try to push myself closer to you, but the combination of restraints and your hands leaves me powerless. I whine, desperation evident.

"Color, Princess."

I whine and pant, but manage to squeak out, "Green, Daddy. More Daddy." You chuckle and lower your tongue back to my clit, relentlessly circling it.

"Daddy!" I moan, frustration growing.

Without warning, your tongue disappears, and a loud crack meets my ears. Pain floods my system a moment later as my body registers that you just slapped my pussy. "One, Princess," you count.

I yelp and try to close my legs, but I can't. I'm helpless before you. "Daddy! Please Daddy," I beg, the sting making tears form in my eyes.

"What, Babygirl?" You ask, mock innocence dripping from your voice.

"Daddy, no, please," I beg.

"Now, Princess, what do you say?" You ask, an edge to your voice.

I tighten my jaw. I hate being ordered to talk, but you know that. I know you'll win this battle; it's inevitable, but I can't help holding out.

You chuckle.

I hear you tear a piece of duct tape, and I cock my head.

Next, I feel something cold press against my clit, the tape securing it on. Being shaven clean has its perks.

It springs to life, vibrating against my clit and I groan, trying to move my hips.

A sharp smack from the crop meets my pussy, just over my aching hole. I whine louder. "What do you say, Princess?"

Still, I lock my lips. The vibrator jumps to high and another smack meets my pussy, harder. I yelp and the words burst out of me, Thank you Daddy! Thank you, Daddy, please! I'm sorry Daddy! Thank you!" They tumble over one another as another stringing hit lands on my poor pussy.

"Two."

"Yes, Daddy, Thank you Daddy!" I am nearly yelling, trembling and desperately holding on. It won't take me long to tip over but it's only day three, and I can't orgasm yet.

The vibrator falls silent and a whine escapes my lips. My hips try for friction, any friction, but nothing can help. My hands have a death grip on my legs. You spend the next few moments turning the vibrator on and off before ripping it off without warning. I clench, but it didn't really hurt.

You run the crop over my thighs, my legs, my quivering, needy pussy. You lift it from my skin, and I clench and flinch, expecting a smack, but when nothing comes after a moment, I relax. Your hand caresses my skin, running over my lips before pushing into me. A sharp smack on my clit accompanies your fingers and I jump and stutter anther thank you. "Good girl! That was four! Only six more to go Baby."

I groan. Six? I'm going to die. My pussy aches, my clit is on fire. "Please Daddy," my voice is low and quivers.

"Yes Baby? "

"Please Daddy, please I want to cum! Please!" I whine.

Another smack on my clit is my only answer, but another thank you tumbles from my lips. My mind is blank and all I can think about is now stimulation.

I hear you move and suddenly, my legs are free and the blindfold is removed. You gather me up, kissing me all over my face, my neck, my breasts, telling me what a good girl I'm being. I am aching and just want you to make me cum; let me cum.

We sit for a few minutes, me wrapped around you, then you easily urge me face down across your lap. Your hand runs over my ass, an appreciative noise floating to me. My arms are tucked under me, and I wiggle my ass in the air, daring you to smack me. You chuckle, but oblige and a sharp smack from your hand meets my pert ass. I wiggle, wanting contact with my clit.

"You still owe me five more Kitten," you say, your hand rubbing the blooming pink mark on my ass. Gently, your hand spreads my legs further apart. I hide my face in the bed, but comply, a low whine escaping. Your free hand presses me tighter to the mattress at my shoulder blades. The power in your hand on me, holding me still, makes my breath catch.

Over the next hour, or perhaps it was five minutes - time stopped meaning anything after a surprisingly short time, you drove my body higher than I thought possible. Always slowly and with purpose, you rubbed my ass, moving down over my thighs, so close to my aching clit. Your fingers would play lightly over my lips and I would moan. Your hand would meet my ass, heating it up, slowly increasing intensity until I can't stop moving. Your hand shifts from my shoulders and threads through my hair, pulling tightly back as your fingers rub over my clit, already slick from my juices. Just as I get to the point to beg, opening my legs wider, your hand slams into my clit. "Six," you say, as I help and try to curl up and still wiggling to get any friction, but nothing.

By the time we get to nine, I'm nearly crying. "Color, baby?" you ask, but I can't process enough to answer. You stop your torture and rub my back, whispering sweet nothings to me, telling me I'm a good girl and that I've done so well. Slowly I come back down and my breath evens out and my movement slows. You repeat your question, "Color, baby?"

"Yellow Daddy," I stutter out, reaching the edge of my endurance.

"Can you take one more Kitten? You only owe me one more," you ask, concern and support lacing your voice.

I nod and bury my face close to you. This time, you prepare me, counting down. I hold my breath and tense as I feel your hand leave my skin. Your hand meets my lips, just barely avoiding my clit, for which I am grateful, and sweet nothings tumble out of you as I yelp. Your hands immediately run over my skin, soothing me with touch and words. I feel cool lotion being rubbed into me, my thighs, my ass, my back. Slowly, I relax, my breath coming quietly.

Gently you shift me off your lap, your hard cock springing free, but I exhaustion is slipping over me. You smile down at me and run a hand over me. I moan and shift closer to you, wanting you even as I tumble down into sleep. You chuckle, but curl around me, your dick demanding attention, but having to wait. Day three had finished, but there were still four more to go.