This story is shamelessly inspired by Penn Jillette's The Pain Addict short story, and Black Mirror's Black Museum episode based on it.

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The first thing you feel is the bite of cold metal, a sudden sting in your nipples. Your eyes open instinctively and see blackness, the same blackness you’ve seen every time you’ve opened your eyes this afternoon. Little girls don't need to see grown ups playing, that's what Daddy had told you. You listen for the familiar sounds that so often accompany that bite, the singsong of praise for Daddy's good little girl, or the condescending explanation of how good the sores and stingies are for you. You hear nothing but white noise, the same white noise you’ve heard all afternoon. Little girls don't need to hear grown ups playing, Daddy had told you. You feel a pull on the invisible chain between the jaws gripping your nipples, and a fresh sting causes your eyes to water beneath your blindfold. Of course your nipples don't move, not really, no part of you does. You try to sit up, but the collar around your neck is leashed to something much too sturdy to give you any movement. You squeal quietly into the pacifier gag locked into your mouth. Your fingers want to grasp the unexplained pain and throw it away, but the straitjacket Daddy's locked you into for his afternoon play session won't let them move an inch. Even if they could, how do you throw away an invisible clamp that isn’t really there? What can you do about a signal that leaps straight from the void beyond your bondage into your pain receptors? Nothing.

You wonder who that pain truly belongs to, what you’d see if Daddy took your blindfold off. Did Daddy's play partner share your watering eyes? Did the other woman enjoy the pain more knowing that it was inflicted on you too? Could the other woman see you, see you twitch within your bondage? Did she get off on your suffering the same way Daddy did? Or had Daddy taken away the other woman's senses too? You wonder how long it was that you felt nothing, your sense of time always deserted you when all of your senses were taken away. What had Daddy and the other woman done before Daddy decided to let you share in her anguish?

Your meditation on the source of the phantom pain is interrupted by a fresh sting, a new perception of pain from nowhere. Daddy's hand. And again. And again. You breathe heavily, try to grit your teeth against the onslaught of unseen, unheard spanks. Your ankles want to kick the way they do when it's you over Daddy's knee, but only push helplessly into the corners of the bed where they're restrained. Your bum pushes down too, as if rubbing it forcefully on the bed might help. It doesn't. The bottom of your straitjacket keeps in place a thick diaper, the first hint you’d got that Daddy was planning to keep you safely locked away for a long play session. Sometimes Daddy would keep you displayed naked, but little girls can't be trusted to hold it for a very long time. Your thick padding offers no protection at all against this particular spanking, the other woman's bum clearly having no such defence. You squirm and writhe against your restraints but it's useless – you don’t move, you can't move.

The rhythmic spanking sensation draws to a halt and you feel Daddy's hand massage your stinging bum. Daddy wouldn't do that so quickly if the other woman was being punished. That makes you hopeful that maybe they'll share more than just pain with you this afternoon. You feel a pinch at the invisible clamps, by now background noise to your more recent painful focus. You gasp into your gag at an unnatural sensation of blood rushing through the other woman's body back to where the clamps had forced it away. The straitjacket suddenly feels unbearably tight, cruelly squeezing your now agonisingly sensitive nipples. You feel a slight pull in your hair followed by a void of nothingness. The sting in your bum has vanished, your nipples have returned to normal. Your clit throbs desperately, but you know that feeling is your own. Unmistakably. You wonder what Daddy and the other woman are doing now, what Daddy's little cuckquean is missing out on.

The next thing you feel is Daddy's fingers caressing between your legs. It doesn't take you long to realise that your predicament remains the same, that Daddy is letting you share in somebody else's pleasure. You feel a longing tingling deep within your naughty hole and wonder if that comes from the other woman too. It was one of the first things you’d asked Daddy for after getting the implant – to let you feel pleasure just once in your naughty hole using it. Little girls don't need selfish pleasure in their naughty hole, that's what Daddy had told you before roughly using your good girl hole to make sure you understood. Daddy was always clear that your naughty hole was unnecessary and any pleasure from it was naughty and selfish. Even phantom pleasure.

Phantom pleasure is better than no pleasure though, which is precisely what your chastity belt granted you. Daddy had locked it on before you got the implant and explained that you didn't need to have any more touchies. All of your pleasure could come when Daddy was giving it to someone else, someone else who wore the hairnet. It could come without Daddy ever having to unlock you, and now you’d only have it taken off for strictly supervised periods of necessity. You could never get used to how real it felt, Daddy's fingers teasing your desperately aching clit while it was securely locked behind metal, always the second hand pleasure of somebody else.

You wonder how the other woman's moan of frustration sounds, your own muffled as you both reach the edge and Daddy's hand is agonisingly pulled away. You feel the painfully familiar pulsing of an orgasm melting away leaving only a helpless desperation behind. The teasing fingers are quickly replaced with the overwhelming pleasure of your magic wand, a toy you still sees as yours but that will never be used on you again. A toy you’ve learned the joys of sharing like a good little girl. A toy that Daddy likes to tease that you’ll never even touch again. Why would a locked little girl need to? The other woman seems to reach the edge quicker than you would, and Daddy suddenly reduces the wand to its slowest setting. The touch of the wand becomes lighter, sustaining in the other woman an edge that teases you desperately, and then as you feel the other woman about to explode with pleasure the wand is pulled away. Nothing. No, not nothing. You still feel the sharpness of the edge, the frustration and the desperation of you both. You feel the climax crawling away from the other woman as the wand creeps away from between her legs. For fleeting seconds the wand comes back, you feel that the other woman can't hold back for any longer than that and Daddy must know too. Finally the wand stops coming back, it stays away as the edge is allowed to retreat. A moment of calm as the other woman regains her composure and you join her in helpless torment.

It feels like forever before the wand returns, imbuing pleasure in you both. It starts at the slower setting this time, you know that Daddy is going to make you both crawl to another edge. Daddy had always made sure your pleasure was slow and drawn out, you thought about him scolding you for rushing as you got close to the edge and making you sit with your hands on your head until you calmed back down. Back when you were allowed to touch yourself. Did he scold the other woman for getting close so quickly last time? Even at this slow speed the wand is relentless, its tease is torture, and you feel the edge slowly building up inside the other woman. It's agonising and incredible at the same time, it feels like eternity and you never want it to end. Eventually it does though, you feel the torture of another edge and right at the second that it's most needed the wand is snatched away. You feel the tension coursing through the other woman's body as she holds the edge. You know that it'd take one brush of one finger for the other woman to explode. Daddy won’t let that happen, of course.

This time it doesn't take as long for the wand to come back, and you immediately feel that another edge is quickly approaching. The vibrations suddenly increase, and then they increase again, you know the edge must be seconds away. You don’t even feel the tug of your hair until it's too late, you can't even try to cry out – please no please Daddy, please not this time. Nothing. All the other woman's sensations abandon you at once, leaving you only with your own desperation, your own throbbing, your own neediness. Safely locked away and safely untouched. Did Daddy let the other woman cum?

Your mind wanders to the first time you played this game. Your only bondage that time was your belt, already feeling like a permanent fixture by then. You’d been lying on the same bed, feeling the same impossible phantom pleasure as Daddy teased the other woman with your magic wand. You couldn't get over how well it worked. You remember trying to keep quiet, embarrassed to let the other woman hear you experience it, and failing as Daddy used the wand just the way you liked on somebody else. You remember reaching your fingers between your legs just to make sure your belt was still there, you really were feeling all of this through that implant. It was impossible and magical, exhilarating and terrifying. You were really, really close. Or the other woman was, you supposed. You saw Daddy reach up and remove the hairnet from the other woman, and suddenly it had all gone away. You’d begged Daddy to let you have that feeling back. You’d begged Daddy to keep the hairnet on the other woman as she cummed. You’d begged because you’d realised it was the only way you’d ever feel that sensation again. Little girls don't ever need to feel cummies, Daddy had told you.

Ever? Had Daddy really meant that?