STANDARD DISCLAIMER
This story was written by ME. It contains words and
phrases of a sexual nature. I personally do not care
who or what reads it or what age they are as long as
it brings them any measure of enjoyment. However to
satisfy the paranoid among us this disclaimer forewarns
them of the possible decline in their perceived level
of morality by continuing past this point.
> . <
DIARY OF CAROLYN
Copyright 1997
Skull Duggery
This is a work of fiction.
My name is Carolyn James. I am presently twenty four years of
age. What follows is a compilation of my personal diary from the age
of thirteen to about age nineteen. It is a fairly detailed
description of my experiences in self imposed bondage and personal
pain infliction. I am certain there are others who participate in
this type of sexual deviance ( deviance meaning only different )
therefore I sincerely hope they enjoy this personal account of my
pains and pleasures. For those who think me to be crazy, evil, or
just plain out of my mind, be careful to keep concealed whatever
secret fantasies you have ( we all have them ) otherwise you might
really screw up and cause yourself some real pleasure.
I was born in the town of Hammond in the mid western state of
Indiana. My parents were average middle class rural American people
with enough income to live a very comfortable life. I was also an
only child due to complications at my birth leaving my mother unable
to conceive any more children. Although it would have been nice to
grow up with another brother or sister, being an only child did have
it's advantages. Actually, when I think back over my childhood, my
mother was most affected by her unfortunate sterility. I didn't see
it when I was young but she had few friends and spent much of her
time either reading or doing house work or fiddling with this or that
to occupy her time. Although she in no way abused or mistreated me,
I've always felt she somehow blamed me for her inability to conceive
another child.
My father worked as a farm implement salesman. This, however,
kept him away from home much of the time due to the great distances
he had to travel servicing the various farms in Indiana and Illinois.
He was almost always home on the weekends but in general would only
pop in one night during the week and that would be only to catch a
few hours of much needed sleep. Of course, not knowing how my mother
was before I was born, and however introverted she had become, my
father was just the opposite. He always seemed full of energy and it
is difficult for me to recall a time when he wasn't smiling or
laughing or telling stupid salesman and the farmer's daughter jokes.
It is only recently I've come to realize how much I missed him as a
child.
I had always been skinny as a child. Not what you would call
undernourished, but until I was about fourteen I guess I did resemble
a proverbial fence post. Actually it was during my thirteenth year
that I started to develop in many ways. My breasts began to emerge
along with the first signs of pubic hair at the top of my vaginal
slit. I gained a little weight, that is, at least by the time I was
fourteen my elbows and knees no longer looked larger than the limbs
they were joined to. I also began my monthly period which scared the
hell out of me as no one had thought to inform me about this little
part of puberty. Well, as I'm sure you realize, I survived this
momentous event, and after a few frantic moments of believing I would
surely bleed to death, my mother managed to explain the facts to me.
I learned very little about the facts of life from my mother. She
never was good at talking about anything sexual, consequently, most
all my sexual education I had to gain for myself.
Having to learn about your own sexuality by yourself isn't all
bad. Although perhaps somewhat frustrating, having no particular
guidance or encouragement, I was able to experiment in many ways not
open to most pubescent teens. Also, by not having the normal
puritanical fears instilled in my brain, if it felt good to me, I
could do it without all of those false guilt getting in the way of
my sexual fulfillment. Consequently, after some initial blind
experimentation, I was able to achieve some of the most fantastic
orgasms possible with solo sexual stimulus.
I spent most of my fourteenth year satisfying myself with normal
masturbation using only different positions to break the monotony. I
dated a few boys that I went to school with and even had intercourse
several times. But the boys were so damn awkward that I would have to
masturbate when they were finished to get myself off. This practice,
unfortunately, did little to support their fragile egos and I found
it increasingly difficult to find dates.
By the time I was fifteen my puberty was mostly a memory. My
breasts had developed to a somewhat small but very firm size with two
perfect eraser type nipples surrounded by quarter sized aureole. I
still had rather small boyish hips but with my long legs and slender
frame I felt that I looked OK anyway. Besides, what had started as a
little tuft of pubic hair, had since blossomed into a perfect
triangle of carpet thick hair that protruded a good three inches out
from my flat abdomen and completely covered my vagina. Anyone
doubting my maturity would think otherwise if they ever saw me
bottomless.
Finding pain to be a sexual aphrodisiac happened quite
accidently. With my father away on business for most of the time, and
my mother normally engrossed in her own interests, I could lock the
door to my room and do whatever pleased me without fear of being
disturbed. I'm not exactly sure why, but one evening I had
masturbated for nearly half an hour and could not reach a climax. I
became frustrated with myself and actually a bit angry. As I
continued rubbing my clitoris, and out of frustration, I pinched my
nipple as hard as I could sending a great amount of pain through my
breast. To my amazement I immediately began to climax.
My climax lasted much longer than usual and was considerably
more intense. When it was over I actually lay back panting from the
experience. After a few moments I started to play with my nipples
again. Still feeling the effects of my previous orgasm, my nipples
became hard and erect almost immediately. As I lay upon my bed
working my nipples between my fingers, I found that if I alternately
squeezed them to the point of pain, my vagina would tingle and I
would feel another orgasm building from the nipple stimulation alone.
I achieved orgasm three more times that night before falling asleep
exhausted from this most pleasing ordeal.
As it happened, the next day was a school holiday. I awoke
around sunrise mostly from habit but also from an incredible wet
dream I was having. I cannot count the number of times I have
climaxed from my first until last night but I can tell you that none
were as fantastic as my last four. As I climbed out of bed, my arm
brushed across my nipples causing me to jump. I figured I must have
really gotten carried away during my orgasms judging by the
tenderness of my nipples. Anyway, I made my way to the bathroom, took
a long hot shower, slipped on my bathrobe and went downstairs for
breakfast.
As usual, my mother was still asleep. She rarely got up before
noon except for when my dad was home. Actually, it suited me fine as
my mother and I had little in common anyway. I noticed that I was
becoming a little excited as my robe brushed over my tender nipples
as I went about fixing breakfast. I ate my breakfast quickly. I
wanted to get back to my room and see if I could manage a repeat
performance of last night. It's always fun to experiment with any new
found turn on.
Once back in my room, I locked the door and removed my bathrobe.
I then stood in front of my full length mirror and studied my
maturing fifteen year old body. I turned sideways and back carefully
inspecting every part of myself I could get into view. I had pretty
much already decided I wasn't a raving beauty but all in all I was no
dog either. I stood only about five foot four but my one hundred five
pounds was well distributed and I did have long legs. I ran my hands
slowly around by breasts and sucked in my already flat stomach as I
rested my hands on my hips. All in all, I was satisfied with the way
I looked.
While still looking at myself in the mirror, I started to run my
fingers through my pubic hair. I liked the fact that it was so soft
and thick as I rubbed back and forth touching my clit every now and
then. I thought to myself as I rubbed, I may not have the biggest
tits of the other girls my age at school, but having seen all of them
naked in the locker room at one time or another, I definitely had the
prettiest crotch. My hair grew in a perfect triangle. It didn't
straggle above the hair line or down my thighs. It just started thick
and grew the same all the way to my ass hole. To this day I could
never understand why a woman would shave or trim their pubic region
to look like a little girl considering that when we were little girls
how we prayed for the hair to grow so we would look like women.
I had passed my sixteenth birthday before I had done much other
than pinching my own nipples. This was partly due to having found a
boy friend who was able to actually pay attention to my needs before
completely filling his. We had a wonderful time together, and I
believe we were in love. At least as much in love as any two people
our age could be. I know without any doubt it broke my heart when his
father changed jobs and he had to move away. I think that feeling of
complete and utter despair, having lost someone I loved, gave me my
first insight into how my mother must have felt over the years.
However, after a couple of weeks of moping around and feeling
depressed, the beautiful summer weather overtook my sadness and I
returned to being normal. As long as you consider alone normal. You
do, don't you? Don't bother to answer, I'm sure you do.
My father may have worked selling farm equipment, but the only
things a farm and our house had in common were that it was two miles
to our nearest neighbor and we had about ten acres of thick woods
behind us. Don't misunderstand me, there were no packs of wild
animals roving around or anything. It may have been rural but it
wasn't the sticks. No hillbillies either. I'm sure if it had been my
desire, and if I could have figured a way, I could have lured the
entire town here one by one, then killed and buried them without a
trace. I must put that thought out of my mind. In case I hadn't
mentioned, I still live here.
During my sixteenth year while on summer vacation from high
school is when I progressed to some pretty bizarre shit. At least it
was in my view at the time. I acquired a great fascination for the
local hardware store that summer. I still wonder today if the store
clerk ever had a clue what a sixteen year old girl was doing with all
those clips, little chains, lead plum bobs, and other assorted items
she purchased from him.
I would try to be up just after sunrise in the morning on days
when I was going to go on one of my escapades. I would gather
whatever gadgets I intended to use that day and put them in a small
duffel bag. I would usually put on only a sweat shirt and shorts as
once I was out of sight in the woods, I would spend the rest of the
day naked. Once I was just past the woods edge, I would remove
whatever clothes I had on and leave them under some leaves by this
old tree. I left my clothes there for a reason. Somehow it added to
the level of excitement, being totally naked in the woods and not
having any choice in the matter unless I could get back to my
clothes. As I normally went a couple of miles deeper into the woods,
you can see the problem if I accidently ran into other people who may
also be poking around the woods.
The following account is of one particular autumn day just
before I was to start my junior year of high school. If there ever
was a day when Murphys Law ruled, this was it. Although if it could
possibly fuck up, it would fuck up, but it was also the most
wonderful, the most scary, and the most sexually satisfying day of
that entire summer. I am going to do my best to describe the whole
days experience in as much detail as possible.
It was around six thirty in the morning when I arrived at the
tree where I deposited my clothing to be retrieved at the end of the
day when I returned. I covered my small bundle with leaves the same
as I had done every other time. The first thing I began to feel after
donning my birthday suit, was cold. Summer nights in Indiana seldom
drop below sixty degrees but a cold front must have passed through
during the night. I don't know exactly what the temperature was, but
it was cold enough to bring millions of tiny goose bumps to my bare
skin and set my teeth to chattering constantly. Oh well, the sun was
already above the horizon, it would start to warm up in an hour or
so, I figured I could take it that long anyway.
I had planned this day to begin by putting two metal adjustable
serrated clamps on each nipple. This I did before beginning my trek
deeper into the woods. I tightened each clamp until the pain was
close to my limit of endurance. I knew from experience the pain would
subside after a while and I would need to keep tightening them at
intervals to maintain the level of pain I desired. I then proceeded
to walk on deeper into the woods listening carefully for the sounds
of any others who might also be in the woods. I did not want to be
surprised by some lost camping family and have to explain what I was
doing completely nude with metal clamps hanging from my nipples. I
mean, they may not understand.
I had walked for about an hour when I stopped by this big rock I
had been to several times before. It wasn't until I stopped that I
realized it wasn't warming up very much. While I had been walking,
the pain in my nipples compounded by the bouncing of the heavy
clamps, had kept my mind off the temperature. I re tightened my nipple
clamps a little and quickly the level of pain shot back up to where I
drew a sharp breath. Although I was shivering enough that if I tried
to speak the words came out in a staccato that would have been hard
to understand, between that and the pain racing through my tits, I
could feel an orgasm building rapidly. This I did not want. I knew
from experience that one huge climax was better than a bunch of
little ones and I had vowed I was going to push myself to my limit of
endurance and fully expected to have an orgasm that would melt me
down into a smoldering mass, if that were possible.
I was beginning to wish I had brought my clothes along this
time. Who would have figured on a cold snap in the first week of
September anyway? And to top it all off, the sky had clouded over and
I could barely see the sun. I thought about calling off my plans, but
this would be the last weekday I would be out of school for a long
time. My father was home on weekends and if I waited until my next
weekday opportunity, it would sure as hell be colder than this.
Having thought it all over, and since I had come this far anyway, and
in spite of all my discomfort, I really was having a good time.
I was about another hours walk to the old pump house where I had
planned to end the second leg of my ordeal. Deciding it was time to
up the stakes, so to speak, I chose to add weights to my nipple
clamps. I withdrew two sixteen ounce lead plum bobs from my duffel
and attached two twelve inch pieces of shoe lace, one to each one
pound weight. I then tied the free ends to my clamps.
With everything ready, I spent a few moments mentally preparing
myself for the sharp increase in pain I knew two pounds of weight
hanging from my tender nipples would undoubtedly cause. The first
time I let go of the weights I had to grab them again after about
thirty seconds as the pain was more than I could handle. I almost
grabbed them on my second attempt, but absolutely forced myself to
leave them hanging as I gathered up the duffel bag. Believe me, at
this point I was in sheer agony. As I started walking, I found it
impossible to prevent the weights from swinging and banging into each
other as I walked along. It was sort of weird though. I was so cold I
was covered with goose bumps but at the same time I could feel beads
of sweat forming on my forehead.
I wasn't making very good progress. Every time the weights would
hit each other it would send daggers of pain all throughout my chest.
And each time I would have to stop for a few seconds while the pain
eased up enough for me to be able to stand it the next time the
weights banged each other. And that was about every fourth step.
Another problem that I was having was I could feel the clamps slowly
slipping from my nipples. The thought of having to tighten them more
brought a feeling of fear to the pit of my stomach.
Fear or no fear, I knew what I had to do. This entire ordeal,
between the pain, the cold, and my uncertainty if I could stand it
all, had me so unbelievably horny I wasn't about to quit now. I
gritted my chattering teeth and tightened each clamp until I actually
cried out from the agony that engulfed me. The pain was so intense I
nearly lost control of my bladder. I reached down to cover my pee
hole when I felt my urine start to drip but the feeling that shot
through my vagina from just the touch of my finger drove me to brink
of orgasm. Tears were running down my cheeks as I started walking but
the thought of the mega orgasm I knew I would have if only I could
make it to the pump house kept me going.
The cloud cover started to burn off shortly after I started
walking again and the sun, now fairly high in the sky, began to
quickly take the chill from the air. By now it was probably about ten
o'clock and for the first time in three and a half hours I had
stopped shivering. The warm autumn sun felt good on my naked skin. I
still wasn't making very good time although the pain in my nipples
and breasts had become slightly more tolerable. Even though I had
only gone about one fourth of the way to the pump house, I needed to
stop and rest. The combination of the intense pain and the extra
exertion required to walk while trying to control the motion of the
swinging weights was taking its toll.
I carefully eased myself down next to an old log and then lay
back letting the two lead weights fall to the ground on either side
taking the strain off my throbbing tits. The air had really warmed up
a lot. In fact, it was starting to actually get hot. Most of the pain
had subsided and it felt really good laying in the warm sun. I
considered removing the clamps from my nipples but from experience I
knew after the circulation had returned, they would be far to sore
for me to put them back on. So I just closed my eyes and ran my
fingers through my bush teasing myself with thoughts of things to
come.
I must have been more exhausted than I realized. The mid
afternoon sun bathed my body with it's hot rays filtering down
through the leaves as I awoke. A little groggy from my nap I felt
panicked thinking I had slept away the whole day. After a couple of
minutes I regained my bearings and by the position of the sun I knew
it was only about two in the afternoon. I had napped longer than I
had wanted to, but I figured I could still make the pump house and
still get home by dark.
Having rested, my excitement again began to build. As I got
myself to my feet, and the weights brought the fire like pain back to
my breasts, I began to fantasize that I was prisoner being forced to
make this trek through the woods. I imagined that when I had refused
to give my imaginary captors the information they wanted, I had been
stripped naked and marched through the woods with my nipples under
torture. As I walked along becoming more absorbed in my fantasy, I
imagined since I had come this far without breaking, that my captors
must intend to increase my torture by now. My tits hurt like hell,
but I was getting so excited by my little fantasy, I started to think
of ways to make my pain worse.
I had two more sixteen ounce weights in my duffel along with
some more clips and shoe lace. I didn't think by the looks of my
nipples that they could stand any more weights attached without
causing some permanent damage, so, I began to consider some other
possibilities. With my limited inventory of devices, I imagined my
captors had decided to torture my pussy for the rest of the way. I
stopped and dug the weights and laces out of my bag and attached the
clamps to my pussy lips just below my clitoris as I squatted on the
forest floor. I tightened the clamps until my eyes started to water
from the pain, then, thinking my imaginary captors wouldn't be so
kind, I gave each one another half turn more.
If I had so much as touched my clit I would have orgasmed
uncontrollably. My bladder was also full and thought about relieving
myself while I was squatted down but going back to my fantasy, my
captors wouldn't allow me to piss, they're trying to make me talk,
they want me to suffer as much as possible knowing if they don't get
me to talk before we reach the pump house, they will have failed.
Slowly I stood up. Totally engrossed in my fantasy, I told myself I
wouldn't satisfy my captors by crying out, but when my labia lifted
two pounds of lead from the ground, I could not keep the scream that
followed from echoing through the woods fantasy or not. Every exhale
of breath brought at least a loud moan from my lips as forced myself
on through the woods with four pounds of lead weights swinging to and
fro supported only by some of the most tender and sensitive parts of
my body. The morning cold had turned into a typical ninety degree
autumn Indiana day.
My body glistened in the afternoon sun from the sweat coming
from every pore. My mind moved from fantasy to reality and back as I
endured the mind numbing pain. Just as I thought I couldn't possibly
stand it any longer, the old pump house came into view. I mustered
every ounce of determination I had. I screamed with every heaving
breath as I went the final steps. Ha ha, I made it.
I sunk to my knees next to the pump house, breathing heavily as
the perspiration dripped from every part of me. Supporting myself
against the wall with my left hand, I eased my other down through my
sweat matted pubic hair and flicked my clitoris only once when the
first wave of orgasm exploded through me. I buried my middle finger
deep into my vagina while rubbing my swollen clit with my thumb
bringing on a second and more powerful orgasm that nearly caused me
to pass out. No longer able to control my bladder, the warm piss
sprayed onto my hand as I continued jerking myself off. I can't begin
to tell you how many times I climaxed, but when it was finally over,
my body was nothing but a sweat soaked, shuddering mass of exhausted
flesh curled up on the forest floor. It was at least half an hour
before I regained enough strength to remove my clamps and weights.
I went inside and pumped some cool water from the old well.
Placing myself under the pump spout I let the cool water run all over
me. The cool water felt so good. My legs were still shaking from the
post orgasmic state I was in. I just stood there, massaging my sore
nipples and pussy with the cool water until I realized how much time
had passed. I took one last drink of water and went back outside. The
sun was now low in the western sky. Feeling a bit of panic knowing I
had spent way to much time here I gathered my little devices into my
duffel. I checked around to make sure nothing was forgotten, and
started back the way I came.
The sun was setting rapidly and I cursed myself for wasting so
much of the day asleep. I was also upset that I hadn't been more
prepared, I mean, I didn't even bring a flashlight, and at this time
of year when the sum went down it got very dark very quickly. It also
got very cold. I wasn't unfamiliar with the woods as I had made this
trip before. It's just that I had never done it at night. Maybe if I
was lucky there would be a full moon.
It didn't seem I had traveled very far before the nights
darkness had engulfed the forest. Although there was still a faint
glow to the sky, it was almost completely dark where I was and
becoming hard to see much of anything. It was also becoming quite
cold and I started to shiver as I poked my way along trying not to
stumble over objects in my path. As I moved along trying to put my
mind on something other than the cold seeping into my nude body,
another foreboding thought occurred to me. I was pretty certain I
could find my way home or at least in the general area, but what if I
couldn't find the tree where I had left my clothes? I was sure that
my father would already be home before me and, being Friday night, he
would have four or five of his buddies with him to play cards. I knew
they always played out on the back porch so there was no way I could
sneak into the house unnoticed.
My mind jumped back to reality as a sharp twig waiting unseen in
the darkness snapped across my bruised nipples bringing a quick yelp
to my lips. Damn, I said to myself as I stopped and cupped my hands
over my stinging tits in a vain attempt to comfort them. I couldn't
remember my nipples ever being this tender before. But, I thought, I
couldn't remember ever experiencing the volcanic like orgasms I had
happily enjoyed today. I guess the more the play, the more the pay.
The moon came up early but was not anywhere near the full moon I
had hoped for. However the faint slivers of light that did filter
down provided enough illumination to keep me from running into trees
head on. The temperature had really took a dive after sunset and I
was really starting to feel it. To make things worse, an intermittent
breeze had come up and when it blew over my naked skin it took my
breath away. At least my sense of direction was good this far as I
caught sight of the big rock that marked the half way point.
I crouched down on the leeward side of the rock and blew into my
hands trying desperately to fight off the cold. The wind was more
steady now from the north east and it stung my nude body something
awful. I'm not sure just how long I stayed at the rock but I finally
forced myself to get started on the last leg home. I gave myself
credit for at least being smart enough to have worn my sneakers
considering I had entertained the thought of going barefoot this
morning. My hands got so cold I had to stick them down into my bush
and try to warm them about every five minutes or so as I tramped
along through the dry leaves making weird crunching sounds with each
footstep. I don't think there was ever a time, before or since, that
I have been so completely cold as I was that night. I was really
beginning to wonder if all this would end with my frozen lifeless
body being discovered in the morning laying naked on the forest
floor.
My thoughts of impending doom vanished as I stopped dead in my
tracks. Looking around, I suddenly realized I was no longer in the
woods. I was standing in an open field with the edge of the woods
about one hundred yards behind me. Although I was totally alone, I
had this weird feeling of self consciousness as I sneaked back to the
cover of the woods. I tried to squat down and get my bearings but I
was shivering so badly I lost balance and fell on my side. I again
cursed myself for getting in to this predicament as I got back up
brushing leaves and twigs away that had stuck to me when I fell over.
I knew I would have to venture out into the open field far enough to
know exactly where I had exited the woods if I had any hope of
finding my clothes. Even though I realized the possibility of anyone
being within a mile of me was slim to none, I gingerly crept through
the open field thinking how the tongues would wag when telling about
the local teenage girl found stark naked hiding in a field.
As I crept to the top of a small knoll I almost shouted with joy
seeing my house only a few hundred yards in front of me. Even though
I could see my father and his buddies right where I knew they would
be playing cards, it took every bit of will I had to keep from
bolting buck naked past them and into that nice warm house. Now that
I knew where I was, and cold to the point of actual pain, I ran back
towards the point in the edge of the woods where I left my clothes
that morning. Fortunately my memory was accurate and I located my
sweat shirt and shorts easily. Putting them on was a bit more
difficult. All that running through the dew covered grass had gotten
me wet and with the cold breeze my body shivered and jerked as I
fought to get my limbs into the right holes. After a few tries, I
succeeded with my task and took off on a dead run for home. As I
reached the back door, I concentrated on trying to stop shivering and
act normal as I stepped onto the porch. What happened next really
pissed me off. My dad and all his friends greeted me without ever
looking up. I may as well have been naked! Later I actually
considered stripping and going out to see if they would notice. I
thought not.
I believe I will finish this tale at a later date. I still have
several more experiences I would like to write about. Although this
portion of my diary you have just read contains some really wonderful
memories, I remember at least a couple more that made these pale in
comparison. To be honest, writing what I have so far, has gotten me
so horny I really must take a break. I will, however, continue my
story at my first opportunity.
DIARY OF CAROLYN
Part Two
Copyright 1997
Skull Duggery
This is a work of fiction.
It took several days for me to completely recover from my last
little escapade. I was sure, well, pretty sure none of my classmates
noticed my slightly bow legged walk or my lack of a brassier the
first few days of school that fall. At least no one mentioned it. I
was also relieved to learn due to some scheduling problems, I wasn't
assigned any gym classes for the first two weeks. My bruised labia
might have gone unnoticed due to my ample bush but I could in no way
hide my severely discolored and bruised nipples. At my young age, I
was still amazed how so much pain could result in so much pleasure. I
mean, even the discomfort I was feeling now excited me.
As the school days turned into school weeks, and the fall to
winter, the first snowfall brought welcomed relief from my monotonous
schedule. Hardly a day had passed since my end summer experience at
the old pump house that I didn't think of that most fantastic orgasm
and wishing for more. I had imagined myself many times since in
similar situations but with school and all, could not make an
opportunity to do so. In addition, I knew a large part of my
excitement was being naked and vulnerable out of doors but the sub
freezing winter temperatures virtually made that an impossibility. I
did however make an attempt during Christmas vacation, but, as I will
explain, the results were less than I had hoped for.
My opportunity presented itself two days before Christmas. Both
of my parents left to spend the day dropping off gifts and visiting
several friends in the area. They indicated they would be home very
late and didn't seem to mind when I declined to go along. I quickly
began to formulate a plan. Although it was a bright sunny day, the
temperature was only supposed to reach about twenty degrees. I
probably wouldn't have even attempted this but my last trip to the
pump house had spoiled me and I was desperate for another wildly
fantastic orgasm. I could usually bring myself to a climax by various
indoor means, but without that added excitement and vulnerability of
being nude in the wide open spaces, there was just nothing super
special about it.
The winter so far had been cold but with less than normal
snowfall. Considering the snow cover was only about six or eight
inches deep I put on a pair of fur lined boots that ended two or
three inches below my knees. I then tried to decide what clothes I
should start out with. However, with my excitement building with
anticipation of the ordeal, I opted to wear only my three quarter
length parka. Just the thought of being completely naked under the
parka started me tingling. Oh, I should mention on one of my trips to
the local hardware supply, I found some self locking clamps that
tightened themselves in relation to the amount of pulling tension
applied to them. I don't know if you have ever had a clamp slip off
your nipple when you weren't expecting it, but it brings on an
instant reality check. I could load these little babies down until my
screams echoed from the walls and they would stay attached. Excuse
me, I got myself a little excited. I'll get back to the story now.
Having gathered my things together, I proceeded to walk across
the field to the edge of the woods. The cold air stung my legs in the
uncovered gap between where my coat ended and the boots began. There
wasn't much for cover in the woods this time of year, so I had to
walk in a hundred yards or so before I was comfortable that I
couldn't be seen. I may have been crazy, but I never was much of an
exhibitionist. Even though I was tingling with anticipation, it took
a few minutes to get courage enough to shed my coat and expose my
nudity to the winter air. Being determined to continue, I took one
last look around to be sure I was alone, then let my coat fall to the
ground.
To my surprise, it wasn't nearly as bad as I had imagined.
Fortunately it was a still day with only a barely perceptible
occasional breeze. My plan this day was only to go as far as the big
rock. Having lived in this climate for only a month short of
seventeen years, I knew I could not last for more than two hours
maximum at this temperature and it was an hour each way to the rock.
I had been waiting for months to do this and my excited mind moved
quickly into fantasy land.
It's strange how the mind often tailors it's fantasy to the
situation you're in. Although I was an only child, I began to
fantasize I was being punished by my two older sisters for some minor
indiscretion that displeased them. I imagined them vowing I would
never forget the pain and suffering they were about to inflict on me.
Knowing that my time was limited I had already attached my new clamps
to my sixteen ounce weights and had brought along four additional one
pounders for good measure. For some reason, my threshold for pain had
increased and I wanted to assure myself of a gigantic orgasm.
Squatting down resting the first two weights in the snow, I attached
a clamp to each nipple, imagining my siblings were forcing me to
install my own implements of torture. I then did the same on each
side of my clitoris being sure to get a good grip on the sensitive
flesh. I couldn't resist running my cold finger up and down my moist
slit. I had to force myself to stop. I was so close to climax I
didn't dare move for fear it would send me over the top and I hadn't
waited this long for it to end in the first fifteen minutes.
As soon as I was back under control, I drifted back to my
fantasy imagining my taunting punishers, all warmly clothed, pleased
with themselves watching this poor naked teenager struggle in the
biting cold trying to lift four pounds of lead with her most
sensitive flesh. I then rose to my feet as the clamps bit deeply
pulling hard as I started to walk. I was really cold but for some
reason, not shivering. Maybe because of the low humidity. At any
rate, I felt the need to increase my self torture. I stopped when I
was near the half way point to the big rock. I was most definitely
very cold and the swinging weights caused me considerable pain, so
the uncertainty of my being able to go the next half hour with double
the weight excited me even more. As I squatted down I thought how
displeased my evil sisters must be that I have endured this well.
They vow to make the next part of my lesson sheer agony.
I attached four more sixteen ounce weights to the four already
in place. I really had no idea if I could even manage to endure
getting this much weight off the ground, much less stand it for
thirty minutes. I gathered all my strength and rose to my feet. It
felt as if my flesh would tear from my bones. I some how kept from
crying out, but the pain was so intense, I started to feel a little
light headed for a few moments. Oh ,how pleased my sadistic sisters
must be. They have to know how much I hurt. It took every ounce of
determination I possessed to begin walking again. I could only feel
the unrelenting pain burning it's way through my groin. I could not
see my labia but it felt like it was stretched past my knees. But I
knew that wasn't possible. Or was it?
I'm not sure if it was the cold, or just that I had been looking
forward to the mind numbing orgasm I knew was soon to come for so
long, but somehow I withstood the most intense and searing pain I had
yet to subjected myself to. I had also been victorious over my
imaginary evil minded sadistic sisters by never allowing myself to
cry out from my agony. As I reached that big rock I dropped to all
fours in the snow. As I rubbed my palm back and forth through my
crotch letting one finger find it's way to my clit I could feel
myself on the brink of ecstasy. It was at that point, seconds before
I would have screamed in orgasmic pleasure, that I heard it. Voices.
They didn't sound very close but the fact I wasn't alone in the
woods put me into a panic. I removed the clamps as quickly as I could
and stuffed them into my duffel bag. The woods offered much less
cover with the trees bare of leaves. Frantically I huddled by the cold
rock looking and listening for any clue as to where my intruders
were. With all traces of fantasy or fun now gone from my thoughts,
the reality of how bone chilling cold it was began to sink in. My
teeth began to chatter uncontrollably as I crouched in the icy snow
listening for a sound. My panic increased as I began to think maybe
they heard my chattering teeth and knew where I was. The noise from
my teeth probably couldn't be heard more than two feet, but at the
time they sounded like jack hammers to me.
After about another ten minutes I knew I would have to do
something. I knew if just stayed where I was I would freeze to death
or at least end up frostbitten. I hadn't heard any more voices so I
carefully moved around the rock keeping a sharp eye out for anything
that moved. Nothing. I began to wonder if I had just imagined hearing
voices. One more trip around the rock. Nothing. Something felt funny
in my crotch. One quick look and feel made my mind up for me. Voices
or no voices, I had to get back to my jacket and home. Take my word,
when your pubic hair is frozen together with cum juice, it's time to
go.
I picked up my duffel bag, took one last look in every
direction, then took off on a dead run towards home. The cold air
made my lungs ache but I kept running anyway. When I finally reached
my starting point, I grabbed my much welcomed parka, put it on and
collapsed in heaving exhaustion. What had took me an hour to walk, I
had run in less than fifteen minutes.
I'm not sure how long I lay there before I regained enough
strength to go the rest of the way home but I was still half out of
breath as I got to my house. I immediately drew a hot bath, then
eased my tired freezing body into the tub. The warm water felt so
good, I soon drifted into an exhausted slumber.
It was late in the afternoon when I finally awoke and dragged
myself from my bath. After drying off I flopped naked on my bed and
tried to make some sense of what had happened to me. I was still
unsure if the voices I heard were real or imaginary, and if they
weren't real, I fucked myself out an orgasm I'd waited months for.
This, however was something I'd never know. End result? Fucked up.
The rest of that winter was pretty much uneventful with the
possible exception of my seventeenth birthday. I did get laid by a
very good looking senior football player. The guy was super popular
and had just about every girl in school hot after him. I was actually
surprised at the time to get a date with him. Don't think I'm putting
myself down or anything, I mean, I'm no Cheryl Tiegs then or now,
but I figure I'm at least a good strong eight in the looks department
and if you're into slim hard bodied girls with small tits and long
hard nipples(I wonder what caused that?) and a nice thick bush to
bury your face in, I'm definitely a ten.
I won't go into great detail about this date as there was only
this one with the football jock. Please understand, I had a great
time and if you're fond of five minute fucks, and then hearing all
the blow by blow details of your sexual experience being discussed by
people you don't even know, his name was Steve Greene.
Once again I must attend to other matters. I will continue to
recount some of my more memorable experiences as soon as possible.
DIARY OF CAROLYN
Part Three
Copyright 1997
Skull Duggery
This is a work of fiction
What follows are the details of a few of the most remarkable
experiences that come to mind during my summer vacation preceding my
senior year of high school. My thrill of outdoor nudity and the
always present danger of being seen had certainly not diminished even
after my Christmas disaster. I'm still not sure about those voices. I
had pretty much resolved myself to personal means for my sexual
gratification. Although I enjoyed going out with guys and I did enjoy
intercourse, somehow I always ended up less than satisfied. I had
entertained the thought of perhaps finding someone who might share
the same sexual deviance as myself but in this hick town if you told
a guy you enjoyed pain, he'd hit you with a beer bottle and then
wonder why you weren't happy about it. I am quite certain there are
people around here doing things a lot more weird than me for sexual
satisfaction, but no one would ever admit it. If only sheep could
talk.
I saw very little of my mother that summer. My grandmother had
become ill to the point where she needed constant help with
everything so my mother stayed with her during the week. She would be
home on whatever weekends she could find somebody to take her place.
No matter really, I had lost the need of a mother long ago. When it
came to my father, I may not have been able to tell him my innermost
secrets, but I knew without any doubt if I ever really needed him,
he'd swim an ocean or walk through a wall to keep me from harm. At
any rate, the summer offered me many opportunities to experience
anything I dreamed up.
To this point I had yet to duplicate the earth shattering orgasm
of almost a year ago. The memory of my Christmas fiasco still angered
me and the more I try to tell myself there really was someone who
almost happened upon me, the more I think it was only my imagination
that screwed me up. No matter, I had a new plan anyway. Besides, if
it hadn't been so stinking cold, everything would have worked out
anyway and it's not cold now. I fell asleep as I went over the
various trials and tortures I would inflict upon myself tomorrow.
I awoke early. The sun was barely peeping over the eastern
horizon as I shook the sleep from my eyes. Since I was the only one
in the house most of the time, I now stayed nude as much as possible.
It's hard to realize until you do it for awhile, but being naked is
easy to get used to and I've actually gone outside without thinking
and then had to dash back in the house for fear of being seen. I've
always wondered why I was so damn modest. I mean, I'd seen lots of
other girls naked and with the possible exception of my small
breasts, I had as killer a body as any of them. I stood in front of
my wall mirror checking myself out as I thought about this. I studied
my breasts and to me they looked all right. I was by no means flat
chested and besides, having played around with all my plum bobs and
other fun toys, I couldn't imagine having two humongous blobs of tit
flesh hanging from my chest all the time. Actually for as slim as I
was, they were about the right size. Well, maybe just a bit bigger.
I continued to view myself in the mirror thinking how lucky I
really was. I must have had good genes to stay this slim with no more
attention then I pay to diet or working out. One thing that
disappointed me was at seventeen and only five foot six I was about
as tall as I would get. My abdomen didn't have any rippling muscles
like those women in the exercise videos on TV, but I was flat
stomached and I had a small but tight butt. I ran my fingers through
my pubic hair as I continued to look myself over. Having grown up
with mostly the same schoolmates I had seen every one of them naked
in the showers following gym class and there is only three other
girls with a pubic triangle as good as mine. I've actually been
complemented on it by a few of my classmates while either showering
or drying off in the locker room. It's embarrassing to me having
another girl tell me how pretty my bush is but inside I always felt
good. I remember once we all took a secret poll. All the girls in my
class had to tell that if they absolutely had to show up at school
either topless or bottomless, which would it be? Out of nearly one
hundred of us, only five chose to be naked from the waist down. I was
among the five but if it would have been real I'm sure I would have
chickened out.
I went down to the kitchen to fix myself some breakfast before
starting my planned activities. One should always be nude when
cooking bacon. Trying to outwit the bacon can be loads of fun as you
never seem to be able to tell when those nasty little spatters of hot
grease are going to attack you. It's absolutely amazing all the
simple things there are to have fun with. Finishing my breakfast, I
went to my room to collect my toys of the day.
Although I had decided what I was going to do to myself the
night before, for some reason I wasn't totally happy with the plan. I
sat on the edge of my bed thinking how I should change it. I knew my
dad wouldn't be home until the next night and my mother not before
the weekend, so I had no real time limit. My excitement was building
as I considered things I could do to make this a twenty four hour
ordeal. I had never even thought about being naked and helpless
outside for that length of time before. Hell, the weather would be no
problem. This time of year was hot during the day but it wouldn't get
cold enough at night to be much more than uncomfortable. I also began
to think if I did it right, I could get myself off big time, perhaps
several times. I knew if I caused myself too much pain I couldn't
last the full twenty four hours. As much as pushing myself to my
limit of pain benefited my orgasm, I knew from experience if I
tortured my pussy and nipples it would end too soon. My nipples and
labia become so tender after a session, it's at least a couple of
days before I can torture them again. I have tried to put myself
through it twice in one day but the agony is more than I can begin to
endure.
I decided on something that would tax my physical strength to
the limit of endurance rather than of sheer pain. I put on an old
summer dress to get me from the house to the woods and then went
about getting what I would be needing. I took along two sandwiches
and a quart of water. If I needed more water there were many places
in the woods to get it. Indiana does not lack for ground water. I
made sure nothing was forgotten and excitedly started out.
Once outside, I realized I'd picked a day that was going to be
really hot. It was typical summer high humidity and at only eight in
the morning the sun felt hot as I made my way across the open field.
Once inside the cover of the woods, I looked back just to be sure I
was alone before removing my dress. I pulled my dress over my head
and carefully hid it under some leaves next to my usual tree. It was
at that point the reality of the situation hit me. The fear and
apprehension that came from knowing for the next twenty four long
hours I was going to be completely nude, except for my tennies, with
absolutely nothing to put on no matter what I might encounter, had me
absolutely vibrating with excitement. The fact was I vibrated myself
into having to shit and .... I knew there was something I forgot. No
matter, leaves can't be any worse than that John Wayne don't take
shit off nobody cheap assed toilet paper my mother buys.
Having finished my necessities, I began to implement my plan. I
also made a mental note to send some leaves to the toilet paper
company. If they could take the hint, it might improve their product.
As I mentioned earlier, my plan was to tax my physical endurance more
than my pain limit so I had brought along a small wooden bucket with
two small wire handles on each side. I had in my duffel bag eight
plum bobs, some clamps of no consequential weight, shoe lace,
sandwiches which I would eventually eat, and my quart of water. My
plan was to attach two of my self adjusting get tighter than shit
when you pull hard and hurt like hell clamps on my nipples and had
resolved to leave them on through my entire ordeal. I would then put
my duffel bag in the bucket. I figured the entire arrangement would
weigh about twelve or thirteen pounds. I would then attach shoe laces
between my nipple clamps and the bucket handles just long enough so I
would have to carry the bucket at waist level to keep the strain off
my nipples. I vowed to myself the clamps were staying attached for
the full twenty four hours, and that whenever I picked the bucket up
I could not put it down in anything less than thirty minutes. This
rule would apply whenever I picked the bucket up, no matter the
reason. Incidentally, this time I wore a watch.
It was eight thirty by the time I had everything hooked up the
way I wanted so my ordeal wouldn't be over until the same time the
following morning. Twelve pounds didn't seem like much as I grasped
the bucket at the bottom and rose to my feet. I made the first half
hour with no problem. The clamps made my nipples sting a little but
unless I was to pull on them, they wouldn't ratchet themselves
tighter. I might mention that the clamps only work one way. They
ratchet tighter to compensate for the amount of tension they need to
support but do not automatically release. My arms were starting to
get tired but I was also becoming aroused. I intended to have as many
orgasms as possible by tomorrow morning so I opted not to rest after
my first thirty minute walk. I could tell by the feeling in my arms
that I'd be begging to put the bucket down before another thirty
minutes passed and if I had a third hand to touch myself with, that
thought alone I think would have gotten me off.
I had things figured pretty close. By the time I had gone
another fifteen minutes, the bucket was rapidly becoming more
difficult to carry. My arms became a steady dull ache as I strained
to keep the bucket at waist level. I wasn't exactly sure how far I
could let the bucket drop before the clamps would start to tighten,
but it couldn't be more than two or three inches at most. At any rate
I didn't want to find out this early on. Another five minutes went
by. The muscles in my arms were starting to bulge as I fought to keep
the bucket level. The ache in my arms steadily increased along with
the strain. Only five minutes to go. My biceps were now throbbing
unmercifully as I shook the sweat from my brow trying desperately to
maintain. I could feel my cum starting to drip from my crotch. One
minute to go. I started to shake from the maximum effort it took to
keep the bucket up. Feeling a sharp pain shoot first through my left
nipple, then my right, I sunk to the ground in total exhaustion. My
arms felt like lead as I fumbled to unhook the laces from the bucket.
I started to cum as soon as I lay back on the ground beneath me. I
didn't even have to touch myself as I lay there with my arms at my
side through the first two waves of orgasm. What a feeling. To climax
without having to finger myself was a new experience for me. I was so
pleased with myself, I lay there savoring the experience for over an
hour.
I was still feeling satisfied as I got up and brushed myself
off. While I was brushing off the bits of debris from my naked form,
I thought how great it felt to be nude. I began to think of how much
fun I could have being nude all the time. There were a couple of
small, secluded lakes in the area where some of the locals would swim
or sunbathe nude. If only I wasn't so damn modest. I really needed to
work on that problem. I really was proud of the way I looked in the
nude so I was confused by my abject fear of being seen that way. I
continued to think about this while I drank some water and ate half
of a sandwich.
My prediction of a hot day had been right on. With the sun near
the top of it's daily arc, and the humidity already high, even the
thick canopy of leaves offered little relief from the stifling heat.
It was about another hour to the old pump house so I drank most of
the water I had knowing I could refill my jug there. I needed to plan
my next orgasm so that I would be at the pump house where I would
have access to water to clean myself up. Especially if I juiced
myself up like I did here. If this first portion of my ordeal was any
indication, I figured I would carry the bucket for thirty minutes,
then rest for another thirty. That should make the last thirty
minutes a real challenge. Just to keep everything the same, I threw a
couple of rocks in my bag to compensate for the weight of the water
I'd consumed. As I reattached myself to the bucket, I kept thinking
how turned on this new type of torment was making me. I was still
feeling the effects of my last orgasm and it wouldn't take much to
bring on another.
Even at my currant age of twenty four, I don't fully understand
why subjecting myself to intense pain and suffering results in such
an unreal state of sexual arousal. Although I still give myself some
fireworks and stars climaxes, recalling these memories as I write
this tale remind me of how much more gratifying it seemed as a
teenager. I really believe the added excitement of truly testing my
limits with each new ordeal I tried made the difference. I never
really knew if I could endure each new challenge until it was over.
I believe it's time to take another break as I seem to have
taken to rambling on and on and on. I will however continue at my
earliest opportunity as I had many wonderful pleasures, a few
surprises, and found I could withstand much more than I thought
possible before that day was over, and I do want to tell you all
about it.
DIARY OF CAROLYN
Part Four
Copyright 1997
Skull Duggery
This is a work of fiction
I apologize for pausing my story in the middle of my adventure.
Unfortunately circumstances were beyond my control. The Outer Limits
came on the TV so I'm sure you understand. However, I will now pick
up where I left off.
Before I continue, a bit of technobabble. If anyone is having a
problem with the format of these text files I'm posting, post a reply
and let me know what your problem is. I do all my writing with a
Leading Edge word processor, vintage 1983. That is not a typo. This
program came with my first 8086 PC that had a whopping ten megabyte
hard drive. I couldn't imagine filling that monster up back then, but
today I'm running a 1.5 gig that's half full. It blows my mind to
think about it. At any rate, I can convert to .doc,.wri,zip,.txt, or
even post the Leading Edge style >DOC files. Anyone who has ever used
one of these old LE word processors knows how versatile it is, and
those who haven't, should give it a try. Wow! What a sales pitch. I'm
sure the Leading Edge company would give me a great job with an
office with a window and a big salary and a fine young sexatary who
could be my slave and man oh man what a time I could have if only
they hadn't gone bankrupt eight years ago. OK, enough technobabble. I
will continue my story tomorrow.
DIARY OF CAROLYN
Part Five
Copyright 1997
Skull Duggery
This is a work of fiction
I was already in a state of arousal as I stood up careful to
keep the bucket high enough to keep the strain off my nipples. My
excitement began to build even more as the perspiration glistened on
my young body. I'm certain the temperature wasn't over eighty five or
ninety, but with the humid summer air, it felt much higher. As I
diligently trudged along, the oven like atmosphere surrounded me like
an invisible blanket. I began to fantasize myself a prisoner of war
in some tropical South American country. How foolish I had been
allowing myself to be captured by these primitive savages. I had
heard about their simple but sadistic methods of torturing female
prisoners, and now I was one being marched through the jungle, my
naked, sweat covered young body exposed to all. I imagined hearing
the soldiers betting among each other how long this girl could last.
Realizing I was nearing where I had planed to rest, I had to
decide what I wanted to do. My decision was more difficult than it
seems. For one, my fantasy had me extremely turned on, and I wanted
to keep it going. Also, as I mentioned before, I wanted to be where
the water was after I finished getting myself off. On the other hand,
I was almost certain my arms would give out before I reached the pump
house. After weighing the alternatives, I changed the rules. Hey,
don't look at me like that. I mean, I made them, didn't I, so who has
a better right than me to change them? I knew you'd agree.
Having made my decision, I let myself escape back into my
fantasy. I imagined my captors, due to an argument between
themselves, decided to allow me to rest while they worked it out. I
set my bucket on an old log and unhitched the laces. Leaning back
against the log, I shook the circulation back into my tired arms. I
then started to reach for my water jug to quench my thirst only to
remember it was empty. Well, I wasn't really that thirsty. I also
knew I was in no danger of dehydrating myself. Strangely enough,
although the combination of heat and humidity makes a body sweat
profusely, you actually lose less water per period of time than if it
were hot and dry.
I closed my eyes to the hot mid day sun as I ran my fingers over
my sweat matted pubic hair keeping just far enough from my most
sensitive places so as not to trigger a premature orgasm. I began to
realize after only a couple of minutes of this, that I wasn't large
enough to be far enough from sensitive places and still touch myself.
Everywhere I touched my body brought a short breath and a little
pleasure spasm to remind me how excited I was. I could actually hear
my juices of arousal dripping on the dry leaves beneath me. Only the
thought of how much greater my climax would be if I just waited a
little longer, kept me from jerking myself into orgasmic haze land
right then.
I had only rested about ten minutes but I was anxious to
continue with my ordeal. The wiggling of my nipple clamps caused a
few sharp pains to shoot into my breasts as I attached my laces to
the bucket handles. Although the clamps were not yet excessively
tight, after five hours of continuous clamping I had thought I'd be
in more pain than I was currently experiencing. Believe me, that
would change dramatically before long.
The short rest had brought strength back into my arms, but the
hot dead summer air had done little to cool me off. My nude teenage
body still glistened with perspiration as I hefted the bucket and
began my self imposed ordeal once more. I'm unsure as to why, but I
again had that fleeting thought of being happened upon by someone,
and picturing myself trying to explain away what I was doing. By the
way, it actually happened to me a year or so later, but I'll let the
story fill you in when it gets there.
Forced to do a reality check by the previous brain wave, I
carefully looked around. Seeing or hearing nothing out of the
ordinary, I slipped back to my jungle fantasy land. Imagining the
enemy soldiers, having resolved their dispute, were again forcing me
to march through the steaming jungle wagering when I would collapse
from exhaustion. I became even more aroused as I vowed that I would
not give satisfaction to those filthy bastards, be imaginary or not.
I thought how in reality, I would make a poor slave. Although I like
to fantasize myself a slave, I think I'm far to turned on by defiance
to ever be totally submissive. I continued along, my arms beginning
to ache from the exertion.
My mind was slipping deeper into my fantasy as I imagined the
soldiers having strapped a pole vertically to my back thus preventing
me from bending or squatting. In their cruel sadistic minds, they
would only be happy when I would finally lose all ability to carry
the weight, and I would beg in agony as my nipples were torn from my
breasts. Although in reality I would never put myself in a position
that could permanently disfigure or seriously injure me, it sure is
fun to imagine it.
The pain in my arms was increasing sharply. Knowing from my
position it would take at least fifteen more minutes to reach the
pump house, I tried to walk a bit faster. It wasn't but a minute or
so when I found this to be harder on my arms than walking at a normal
pace, so I slowed back down. This is how athletes must feel, I
thought to myself noticing how well defined my arm muscles had become
from the long exertion. Having been born minus the sports gene,
athletics had never interested me, but it now occurred to me athletes
probably get their rocks off from the pain the same as me. I was sure
I was right. I'll bet they really wear those plastic crotch guards so
not to accidently start playing with themselves in front of all the
spectators. Hell, I'm not so different after all.
My imaginary captors were becoming more excited also as I
strained with all my will in the tropical heat. The veins in my
slender young arms were clearly visible as I fought with every step
to keep my increasingly heavy bucket at waist level. The burning ache
that filled my arms and shoulders seemed unbearable. I could tell I
was rapidly losing my battle of the bucket when I caught sight of the
old pump house about three hundred yards ahead. Now, with my goal in
sight, I renewed my concentration. As hard as I tried, I just
couldn't keep the bucket at my waist. With about a hundred yards to
go, I began to whimper. Partly, I think, from exhaustion, but mostly
from my downwardly distending nipples doing their best to help
support the heavy bucket they were attached to.
I was already well into my second earth shaking orgasm when I
reached the pump house. If the pain searing it's way throughout my
heaving chest was any indication, my poor nipples must have been
supporting all of the buckets gravity seeking weight. There wasn't
enough feeling left in my tortured arms for me to tell if they were
helping or not as I collapsed onto the ground with my third orgasm
obliviating me to everything else. I felt myself losing control of my
bladder as the fourth climax filled my exhausted body with ecstasy.
From some subconscious instinct I moved my hand over my crotch only
to let my hot piss spray uncontrollably as yet another wonderful
orgasm shuddered it's way through me. Engulfed in ecstasy, I rolled
onto my back, my nipples, still attached to the bucket, started to
bleed as they dragged the heavy bucket as I rolled to my back. I
screamed at the top of my lungs as the unimaginable agony tore
through every nerve sending me into a final explosive orgasm
obliterating all but it's own indescribable pleasure. It seemed the
more the pain, the more the climax. Not wanting my orgasmic haze to
end, I remained motionless until I could no longer endure the fiery
pain from my ravaged breasts.
I had no choice but to remove the clamps from my bleeding
nipples. I had not intended to do such severe damage to myself, but
still reeling from the absolutely, could not have ever imagined, most
wonderfulistic sexual experience of my life, it was worth it. I
managed to get my orgasmicly ravaged body into the pump house and
drank as much of the cool well water as I could. Although my mind was
intent on cleaning my now dirt covered sweat soaked body, my body
said, later on, as I fell into a much needed sleep.
I awoke with a momentary attack of panic. I had blissfully
dreamed away the entire afternoon and the long shadows of dusk were
visible through the pane less pump house window. My panic lasted only
until the sandman had left my sleepy brain and returned to wherever
sand men go when they return you to reality. Actually, my feeling of
panic turned into one of astonishment as I surveyed my dirt and
debris covered body. I looked as if I had been away for a month with
all the pieces of dead leaves, twigs, and other assorted crapola
stuck to every part of my naked body. I pumped some water and as I
worked at cleaning myself up, my mind started working on my plans for
the night.
Fortunately, I hadn't done any permanent damage to my nipples.
Although they were extremely sore, a close inspection after cleaning
away the dried blood, revealed the clamps had only cut the flesh, not
torn it as I had feared. Either way, I would have no further need of
my clamps or weights on this day. In fact, after eating my remaining
sandwiches, there was nothing in my duffel bag I could think of a use
for, so I decided to leave it and the bucket in the pump house. I had
stashed a flashlight in the old pump house on an earlier excursion
because of a somewhat unpleasant night time woods experience
previously encountered. In all honesty, having forgotten to bring one
along again, I was relieved to find this one in working condition.
One must be careful when leaving battery powered items in the woods.
I know because I saw on TV that rabbits use them too. Fortunately, I
had hidden this flashlight well.
The suns evening rays still illuminated the western sky as I
closed the door on the old pump house. The cooler evening air felt
good as it lightly caressed my bare skin. Very much sexually
satisfied from my flood of earlier orgasms, I was now in more of an
adventurous mood than anything else. Not that there was any real
danger in the woods at night. Most people who are not raised around
rural places think wild animals are going to attack them. There's a
thousand times better chance you'll win the Irish Sweepstakes twice
in a row, than be attacked by a wild animal. Wild animals don't like
people. They try every way possible to avoid people. Actually the
greatest danger of animal attack, is by someones abandoned house pet.
I guess you could say I was feeling like taking some chances
that night. Not anything that could get me hurt or anything mind you.
Just some things I had never tried before. I started out towards a
public campground located a couple of miles to the northwest on the
shore of a small woodland lake. The excitement of my plan brought
goose bumps to my naked skin as the shelter of the pump house
disappeared behind me.
A nearly full moon was rising early providing enough light that
I didn't have to use the flashlight. This I was happy about because I
didn't want to draw attention to myself moving stark naked through
the trees. Even a flashlight beam can be seen over several miles at
night. My plan was to sneak into the public campground and take a
swim in the lake, actually pond would be a better word, and back out
without being seen. This was really taking me to my limits. If you
have been following my tale, you know one of my worst fears is being
caught naked, and with nothing but a flashlight for cover, I was very
much naked now. Maybe deep inside I wanted to get caught. Perhaps I
thought it would cure my unreasonable modesty. You know, I utterly
envy anyone who is unafraid to let the world see them nude. After
all, what could be closer to total freedom than strolling down main
street with your tits bouncing and your pubic hairs blowing in the
wind for all to see.
DIARY OF CAROLYN
Part Six
Copyright 1997
Skull Duggery
My heart raced with a combination of excitement and fear
as I began to hear the sounds of people as I got closer to the
park. It was almost eleven thirty and it hadn't occurred to me
that there would be so many people still up and about. I crept
carefully closer, trying to keep out of the moonlight as much
as possible, when suddenly I heard the sound of children. A
big lump began to form in my throat as the children's voices
grew louder. I frantically searched for someplace to hide.
There was little, if any, underbrush this close to the camp
ground that hadn't either been cleared or beaten down by
campers. Although the trees were by no means sparse, none were
very large, and they had been pruned to seven or eight feet
up. I may have been slim, in fact, I'm sure there are some who
would have even called me skinny, but I assure you, there just
weren't any tree trunks in sight that would have hidden me
from prying eyes.
The lump that occupied my throat felt like it would all
but choke me to death as the voices began to take the shape of
several small children as they became visible in the
moonlight. And if that wasn't bad enough, one of the little
fuckers was carrying a flashlight, the beam of light darting
about as they ran here and there between the trees. Though I
was sure they hadn't yet saw me, they kept coming in my
direction like they were following some sort of homing beacon.
I wondered if Murphy's Law worked as well on the Irish as on
the rest of us.
As they drew closer and closer, my options were quickly
dwindling away. One, I could turn tail and run ever so
silently, making no noise for them to hear gliding like a
gazelle through the dry leaves and twigs covering the forest
floor. Right, I'm sure. Two, I could just stroll on in my
birthday suit, walking past them without a care. Not likely.
Three, I could just walk up to them and say something
intelligent like, hi guys, ever seen a naked lady before? Nah.
Considering that sex and nudity were numbers eight and nine of
the seven deadly sins in this bible bounced country, that is
unless you happen to be the bible bouncer in which case bible
bouncing rules don't apply, these sheltered little brats would
go screaming back and at best, be traumatized for life. Not to
mention the myriad of sex crimes I would be charged with after
the innocent little tots were bible bounced into confessing
all the torture, rape, abuse, and other sorted evil deeds I
perpetrated on them. Bad idea.
I was down to option last. Option last rated only
slightly above the others, but as it's name implied, left me
no other choice. However, this fact gave me little comfort as
I climbed through the sharp branches into the relative safety
of the nearest tree. I perched silently, and uncomfortably I
might add, as the little group passed beneath me. Finally the
lump released it's grip on my throat as the figures again
faded into voices as they returned from where they came.
Satisfied I was no longer in danger of seeing my face
plastered on the Post Office wall under vicious sex criminals,
I began to contemplate my decent. You may think me a tad
paranoid, and perhaps a bit sarcastic by my thoughts about
bible bouncers and sex crimes, but before you pass judgment,
think about this. Where but in our great land of the free and
home of the brave, can a seventeen year old boy be sent to
prison for having consensual intercourse with a seventeen year
old girl, and yet Catholic priests are unpunished for having
non consensual sex with five and six year old children. Put
that in your bible and bounce it.
It may be said that what goes up, must come down. If this
is true, why is it always harder to climb down from something
than it was going up? For instance, that short branch
attempting to enter my vagina gave me no problem on the way
up. I did however, with a few added minor abrasions,
successfully extricate myself from the tree.
My recent anxiety combined with the physical exertion of
playing lumberjack had caused me to moderately perspire. As I
squatted beneath the tree contemplating my next move, I began
shivering as the night air evaporated the moisture from my
unprotected body. The night was by no means cold, but with the
humidity still high, even seventy degrees can be chilly to a
nudist. I checked the time. Quarter past twelve. Not wanting
to repeat the last forty five minutes, I figured I'd wait
until one o'clock before continuing towards the lake. I sat
with my back to the base of the tree, drew my legs up to my
chest, wrapped my arms around them and settled back to wait.
I must have fell asleep because the next thing I remember
was being a lot colder than I had been. As I ran my hands over
my body trying to get some relief from the chill, I could feel
all my normally invisible little body hairs sticking straight
out between the sandpaper like goose bumps formed on my
exposed flesh. A brief moment of panic cleared my thoughts as
I checked my watch. Ten after one. Perfect. Brushing myself
off as I got to my feet, I shook off the cold as much as I
could before starting for the lake. I don't know much about
astronomy, but this was one of those nights when the moon
seems to be in the same position in relation to the time as
the sun is during the day. It made everything look weird in an
eerie sort of way with the moon shadows bringing an almost
life like quality to the normally inanimate inhabitants of the
forest. With flashlight in hand, I headed for the lake.
It may not seem very challenging to grab a skinny dip in
the dead of night, however, this particular site is far from
normal. Very few of the inland lakes in this part of the
country are what you would call "natural". Most started as
either granite or marble quarries that filled with water when
the quarrymen finally reached a depth sufficient to release an
underground water supply. As a result, most are bordered by
sheer rock except for where the original entrance to the
quarry was. In my case, the only area accessing the lake, was
the camp ground. Unless of course, you were to make a hundred
foot dive from the rock wall, in which case you would still
have to exit at the camp ground, and undoubtedly someone would
hear the splash from your hundred foot dive, and from sheer
curiosity be looking for the cause. So you see, not simple.
Except for a few lingering camp fires, there seemed to be
no activity as I crept along the edge of the camp area.
Keeping low, I eased closer to the water's edge trying to be
as silent as possible. So far, so good. Fortunately, due to my
level of fear and excitement, my shivering had stopped making
it easier to avoid detection. Other than an occasional cough
or grunt from a sleeping camper, and the gentle lapping of the
lake water on the shore, all was quiet.
I made my way to the point where the shore and rock wall
met at the water's edge. I quickly stashed my flashlight by
the rock wall as I was easily visible in the bright moonlight
if anyone happened to look my way. With the fear of detection
foremost in my mind, I quickly slipped into the icy quarry
lake. Quarry lakes are famous, or infamous depending on your
point of view, for their nearly constant fifty two degree
water. As a result, the shock from being suddenly immersed
naked forced an uncontrollable yelp from my lips as the icy
water took my breath away. Another unique thing about quarry
lakes, is their short beaches. So only about fifty feet from
shore, I became too busy treading water while trying to
recover from the initial shock of the cold water to notice
much of anything else.
Being tossed naked from an iceberg in the Arctic Ocean
would have been less of a shock than what happened next. As my
body adjusted to the cold water, I was able to breath more
normally. I also became aware of some sort of activity in the
camp ground. Unsure of what was actually going on, I swam
quietly to spot by the rock wall about three hundred feet from
shore where I could still see the entire camp but was myself
pretty well hidden from view. Finding a hand hold at near
water level, I tried to figure out what was happening on
shore.
That familiar lump began invading my throat again as I
could see one, then two, three, then several flashlight beams
darting around the camp ground. I held my watch to the
moonlight. It was two o'clock. Damn, what the hell are those
people doing?
The beams of bouncing light started coming towards the
lake. What the fuck is happening? I thought to myself as I
swam further down the rock face. It looked as if the entire
camp was up now. They were now shinning their lights out onto
the lake. They're looking for me. That can't be. I was sure no
one had seen me. I tried to hear what they were saying but my
brain was starting to get cloudy as the icy water took it's
toll on me. I slowly moved closer, staying close to the rock
wall. I was starting to get really scared. It was getting more
difficult to move my arms and legs as my body edged closer to
hypothermia. Finally I could hear one understandable voice
over the excited mob scurrying aimlessly around the camp.
She was hollering something about loosing her kid. Son of
a bitch, they were looking for a lost kid. As my mind
assembled the facts, I started to become nauseated from the
panic and fear this realization brought. And what made me feel
even worse, it had been my own yelp when entering the water,
that had got someone's attention. Tears streamed down my
cheeks as I eased along the sheer rock toward the mob of
hysterical fools lining the water's edge. By now the only
choices I had left were either to stay put and die from
hypothermia, or get to the beach and die from humiliation.
Believe it or not, I was having trouble reaching a decision.
Stay of execution. You heard right, Murphy granted me a
stay of execution. I take back everything I have ever said bad
about that hard headed, trouble causing, arrogant Irishman,
shit, I mean kind hearted and helpful arrogant Irishman. Only
moments before my fate was to be sealed, the kid they thought
was drowned in the lake, they found wandering around right
along with them. They then started thanking God and they all
hugged the half asleep little boy as if he had just been
pulled from the fires of hell. At least that's what it looked
like. Personally, I hope they were thanking God for delivering
them from stupidity. Maybe next time it would occur to look in
the kid's bed before booking passage on the cruise to mass
hysteria. Still, I thought, that's a tall order even for a
God. Perhaps if they offered a human sacrifice? Nah.
For me however, it was still not an ideal situation. It
looked as though everyone had retired to their various tents
and RV's, but they were certainly still awake, and would be
much longer than I could stay in the water. I needed to exit
this lake right now. My arms and legs had long since become
numb and though I knew I was still moving them as I reached
the waters edge, I couldn't feel a thing.
Keeping very low and quiet, I crept onto the beach at the
same place I had entered. I was rather surprised at finding my
flashlight right where I left it. I thought sure someone would
have at least found that in their frantic search. Carefully, I
made my way back to the safety of the woods.
The feeling started returning to my extremities before I
had gone very far. And along with the feeling, came the
inevitable violent convulsions suffered by anyone whose core
body temperature has ever gotten as low as mine was. This
however, was a new experience for me. Actually, referring to
my next hour as an experience, would have been like referring
to Hiroshima as a fireworks display.
Unless you have ever had the ill fate of having become
hypothermic, your wildest nightmares are pale in comparison
to what I am about to describe. In all my self imposed or
otherwise tortures and ordeals, before or since, were no worse
than removing a splinter compared to what I suffered that
night.
Did I say violent convulsions? Violent does not begin to
describe hypothermic convulsions. First, I'll give you a few
simple facts to help you understand what happens. One, normal
body temperature, as I'm sure you already know, is ninety
eight point six degrees. Two, the most energy consuming task
your body has is to maintain that temperature. Three, muscles
produce heat. The harder they work, the more the heat they
produce. Four, the more the body tries to rise above it's
normal temperature, the more you sweat so that the effect of
evaporative cooling will keep the temperature normal. In fact,
only a two or three degree rise will make you sweat bullets.
Keep in mind, more muscles, more heat. When your body
temperature becomes ten or fifteen degrees to low, and stays
that way long, your body dies. Your body does not want to die.
Regardless of what you may want, your body is going to do
everything possible to get it's temperature back to normal. A
body is mostly water. In my case about one hundred fifteen
pounds. That is roughly fifteen gallons of water. Now, imagine
how much heat it would take to raise the temperature of
fifteen gallons of water fifteen degrees in one hour. Lastly,
imagine how hard every last muscle in your body would have to
work to produce that much heat. Result, violent convulsions.
The only possible bright side to any of this was that I
had managed to get out of earshot of the campers before being
disabled by the convulsions. Good thing because for the next
hour or so, I was completely and utterly unable to control
anything I did. For all I know, the forest may have vibrated
with my screams of agony. I do know however, that at sometime
during my convulsive state, I let loose of all my bodily
functions.
When the agonizing convulsions finally turned to more
normal teeth chattering shivers, I began to assess my
situation. My front was covered with vomit mixed with dirt,
leaves, twigs and other such debris. Judging from the smell, I
had also shit myself and apparently rolled in it. It was four
thirty in the morning and I was a good two hours from home. I
was half frozen to death, butt naked and covered head to toe
with piss, shit, puke and who knows what else. I must be the
stupidest bitch alive. When I do get home, I think I'll just
spend the day sticking pins in my tits to remind me of the
fact.
DIARY OF CAROLYN
Part Seven
Copyright 1997
Skull Duggery
At this point, I would have done almost anything for a hot
shower and a bar of soap. I considered going back to the lake to
at least wash the crap off, but seeing how that damn lake was the
reason for my current predicament, I decided to try to make the
pump house. I absolutely begged for sunrise as I shook and
shivered my way along in the damp cold predawn air. I felt like
cursing Murphy, but held my tongue just to play it safe. After
all, as miserable as I now was, the fucker, oops, I mean fine
fellow, did save from the campers. Instead, I cursed myself for
not being able to just have walked up on that beach and proudly
strolled right by those foolish bastards. As I looked at my crap
covered body and smelled the rancid odor emanating from it, I
thought, who am I calling foolish?
The sun's fiery ball had the first finger hold on it's daily
climb over the eastern horizon as I came within sight of the old
pump house. With the opportunity to clean the now dried on
excrement from myself only steps away, my spirits began to lift.
That was, until the thought of pouring the icy well water over my
already near frozen body entered my foggy brain. Oh well,
compared to my agonies so far, I told myself it would be like a
walk in the park. No pun intended.
It was more like a walk through the pricker bushes, but,
after much effort, I transformed myself from Carolyn the human
cesspool back to Carolyn the closet nudist and sometimes pain
slut. The sun had by now cleared the horizon and the warm early
morning rays filtered through the treetops forming little dancing
dots of light on the forest floor. As I squatted by the east wall
of the pump house, trying to take advantage of every bit of
warmth available, I carefully looked over my cold bluish white
skin. I checked every part of myself I could manage looking for
any possible unnoticed injuries. Finding none, I then began to
wonder if I would have any lasting effects from the hypothermia.
I had experienced. I guessed not. As cold as I had been, in
reality, it had been a fairly warm night. Although I had intended
to head straight for home after cleaning up, the warm sun felt so
good I decided to stay awhile and rest.
It was close to noon when I awoke with a start, hearing what
sounded like footsteps somewhere on the other side of the pump
house. My familiar lump returned along with that sinking feeling
that accompanies fear as I tried to imagine what it was. I
frantically looked for anything I could use to cover my nudity,
but there was nothing. Images of everything from little kids to
forest rangers to space aliens raced through my mind until a
telltale pungent odor found it's way to my nostrils. Skunk.
Relief instantly overcame my anxiety as I peeked around the
corner of the pump house only to find one of nature's smelliest
creatures, with the possible exception of me as the human
cesspool, foraging for it's breakfast. I carefully gathered what
I had stashed the day before and left the busy little skunk to
his task.
I started to feel much better as I walked the next hour to
the woods edge. With the filth cleaned off, and the shivering
cold only an unpleasant memory, I took my sweet time getting to
where I had hidden my clothes. Even so, it seemed like no time
before I was picking my old dress from under the tree where I had
left it. As I shook the leaves off the dress, I had a crazy
thought. I pondered this thought for a couple of minutes before
making up my mind. Do it. I stuffed my dress into the duffel bag
and headed completely nude across the open field to my house. I
felt really brave as I exposed myself for all to see. Of course
there was no one within eyesight to expose to, but I can imagine,
can't I? And besides, I thought to myself as I entered the empty
house, it's a start. Never before today had I had enough courage
to cross that field naked, day or night.
I spent the next couple of hours soaking in a hot bath going
over in my mind my not so much fun lake ordeal. The strange thing
is, even with all the nasty extremes I was forced to endure,
having overcome it all made me tingle inside. In fact, with a
little help from the detachable shower head my dad had installed,
I tingled myself into a not so bad orgasm. Then I thought, I'm
the only one who uses this upstairs bath. I wonder why my dad
installed this great toy. Could he be more aware than I think?
I made several more excursions that summer, but none were
truly extraordinary until after I'd begun my senior year. Being a
senior was great. Especially if you had enough graduation points
accumulated. I did. You may think I do some weird and dumb shit,
but for what it's worth, the last IQ test I was given scored one
hundred sixty. Not bad for an almost eighteen year old pain slut.
To explain briefly how these points work, you get points for
each course that you pass all through high school. The number of
points needed to graduate are figured on an average students
capability to accumulate by the end of their senior year. If one
is fortunate enough to keep their grades high, and take a few
extra courses, the only courses they have to attend during their
senior year are those considered mandatory. Therefore, in my
case, from noon Thursday until Monday, no school. I also had
Wednesday afternoon off and if I really had something going, I
could always skip Thursday.
Before I tell you of my next encounter, I need to preface it
with a little background. There was a girl in my class named
Kristen Castillo. Although we had been classmates since, I think,
fifth grade, other than occasional greetings and seeing her at
various school activities, we had no other contact. Actually, not
unlike myself, Kristen pretty much kept to herself.
I did know that Kristen's family kept her from much dating,
at least according to most reliable gossip, and in this case it
was. Apparently for cultural reasons, of which I will never
understand or agree with, she was not allowed to date boys not of
Latin decent as was she. Hammond Indiana was and is the epitome
of white America, leaving her little to chose from.
In fact, other than Robert Vega, who reminds me of that
little gang leader, Jesus I think was his name, that played on
Hill Street Blues, she had dated only one other. I don't think
this guy met with family approval as they broke up before he got
out of the hospital. It's a sad situation because Kristen falls
into that enviable category of drop dead good looking. At any
rate, both Kristen and I ended up being volunteered to write the
script for the senior play. Which, by the way, neither of us were
too happy about. I doubt they censor letters from San Quentin as
carefully as they did our script. I did however, manage to get
one of the actors to substitute the word fuck for luck in the
performance for a small fee. It didn't cause much fuss, but gave
me a good measure of personal satisfaction.
I got the shock of my life one afternoon while we were
working on our script. It happened when I accidently bumped head
on into Kristen while paying absolutely no attention where I was
walking. Kristen, being a good head shorter than me, ended up
ramming her boobs straight into my rib cage. What I felt when we
impacted, were two hard, and oddly familiar I might add, metal
like objects on her breasts. And, I would probably have passed it
off to my over active imagination, had it not been for look of
pain that briefly crossed her face. I couldn't believe what I was
thinking could be true. I had to somehow find out for sure. I
mean, gawd, even I had never wore my nipple clamps to school!
Until this moment, I had never even considered that there
could be someone else with the same weird attraction to pain as
myself. And this girl comes to school with her nipples clamped.
That was pretty extreme even by my standards. I looked at Kristen
every chance I had wondering if she realized I was on to her. She
didn't act any different or anything. The thought of her being
into the same things as me had me ready to explode. After what
seemed like hours of trying to think of ways to approach her,
something my father once said kept coming to mind. "If you want
to know something, just ask. The worst that can happen is you may
get told to fuck off." My dad always gave good advice.
So, armed with my measure of parental advice, I whispered
into Kristen's ear. "I'm impressed, I never tried wearing mine in
school." At first she gave me this real startled look. Then,
realizing exactly what I meant, she started looking embarrassed.
"It's all right," I told her, "I'm into the same thing myself."
As we talked, she became less and less embarrassed. We found that
until now, neither of us had ever talked with anyone about our
private pleasures. I was fascinated by what she described having
done to herself, some of which made me wince at the thought. I
had never considered myself to be any slouch when it came to
standing pain, but if what I was hearing was true, Kristen gave
new meaning to the word. We spent the rest of that school day
relating our experiences to each other. As we parted after the
last bell, Kristen agreed to come to my house the next morning
saying she wanted to show me some neat stuff. As I walked home, I
wondered what I had got myself into this time.
DIARY OF CAROLYN
Part Eight
Copyright 1997
Skull Duggery
For, what I had thought until today, a shy little latino
girl, some of what Kristen had told me left me in awe. Like I
said, I've done some things to myself that caused enough pain
to nearly pass out from, but I was having trouble imagining the
level of pain she talked about. Of course, so far it was just
that, talk. She could be full of shit. Then again, if she was
just blowing smoke, why did she agree to come to my house. The
whole thing was happening too fast. If she was for real, she'd
expect me to do whatever she did. I couldn't let her show me
up, yet I didn't like to be forced into anything. Especially if
it could do any lasting damage. Five hours ago, playing torture
games with one of my classmates would have been number one
thousand on the ten most unlikely things to do list. I half
thought about canceling the deal, but I was the one who
actually made the first move. Just at that point, I remembered
another little ditty my dad told me. "Always make sure your
brain is in gear before you dump the clutch." I then remembered
it was Wednesday night. My father would be home. I wondered
what he'd say if I just laid it all out to him and asked his
advice? I could hear myself now. "Guess what dad? I just wanted
to tell you that for the last few years I've been a self
inflicting pain slut and now I want to do it with another girl
from school. She's a little scary and likes to hurt herself
real bad, so do ya think I should do it with her?" Like, I'm
sure.
My dad woke me the next morning the same as he always did
when he was home. I think I upset him when he tried to make
some lame apology for my mother being away all the time. At
least he didn't look too happy when I said "Who?. You mean my
mother? Hell dad, I thought she'd been abducted by aliens.
Actually I was hoping they'd keep her." When he gave me a hug
and a kiss and said he'd see me Friday night, I felt like I
should crawl into a hole somewhere and die. If he only knew how
much I love and need him. Maybe he does.
I lay in bed until I heard my dad's car leave. It was a
little after six and Kristen would be here about eight.
Although I rarely did it, skipping a school day was easy for
me. Kristen on the other hand, had to ride the bus to school
and then skip out so her family wouldn't find out. I decided to
make some breakfast. I do so much like to play in the bacon
grease spatters.
I ate my breakfast and washed my dishes. I then gave the
house a quick once over not wanting to give Kristen a bad first
impression. It was about quarter to eight when I finished that.
I started upstairs to put some clothes on, but before I got to
my room, I stopped and thought again. I wanted to stay nude. I
decided however that might not be good greeting a first time
house guest in the buff, so I threw on a halter top and a pair
of cutoff jeans.
I no sooner got my clothes on when I heard the doorbell.
Kristen was half out of breath having jogged the three and a
half miles from the school to my house. She instantly flopped
herself in one of the kitchen chairs and sat there catching her
breath. My first surprise of the day came when I offered her
some coffee. As I set the cup in front of her she asked if I
had anything to put in it. I seldom drink coffee, and when I
do, I drink it black so milk and sugar hadn't occurred to me.
As I set down the milk and reached for the sugar Kristen said
between breaths, "Not that. I mean something, you know, like
tequila or whisky." Tequila or whisky? I had never liked
alcohol, so I had to think if we even had any. My dad had a
beer now and then, but I couldn't remember him drinking whiskey
ever. After a couple minutes of looking through the cupboards,
I came upon a bottle of very dusty and obviously well aged
Kentucky sour mash bourbon whisky. Sour mash? Why would anyone
drink sour mash? I showed it to Kristen and she lit up like a
bulb, blew off the dust, screwed off the cap and poured as much
as would fit into her coffee. It made me shudder watching her
drink it. I began to wonder if the secret to her pain tolerance
was to just get good and drunk before starting.
Kristen drank two more cups of sour mash coffee before she
was done, and to my surprise, didn't seem to be at all affected
by it. It sure is amazing how little you can know about someone
you went to school with most of your life. One thing was for
sure. Before this day was gone, I would be much better
educated.
My next surprise of the day hardly gave the first one time
to sink in. Kristen smiled and told me how happy she was to
find someone like me that shared her interests, and then
proceeded to give me a big hug and kiss of appreciation. Her
kiss however, consisted of shoving her sour mash flavored
tongue down my throat to what felt like half way to my toes.
This was NOT what I had in mind. I had to physically pry her
off of me to end her liposuction kiss. She had this strange
look of bewilderment on her face as I wiped my arm across my
lips. "What the fuck was that all about?" I asked in a half
angry tone. "Gee, I'm sorry." Kristen replied in a sheepish
voice. "I thought you'd like that. I didn't mean to make you
mad." I assured her I wasn't mad, just that I wasn't gay either
and it might not have been that bad if I had a little warning.
Then to top it off, she starts pouting and asks if I want her
to leave, making me feel like a total turd. Gawd, I'm such a
sucker sometimes.
I assured her I didn't want her to leave, just that before
she does anything off the wall that requires me as a
particapant, to tell me first. I also told her that just
because I had never had a homosexual relationship, didn't
necessarily mean I would never try it. After all, to most of
the Bible educated boneheads in this town, gay meant happy and
homosexual was akin to having sex at home. We decided to go up
to my room and start over again.
I assured Kristen that we would have complete privacy due
to my parents weird schedule. She then told me about how she
was always in danger of being walked in on no matter where she
was at her house. After she had told about some of her closer
encounters at home, I again realized how lucky I really was
having the house to myself most of the time. I wanted to take
my clothes off but I waited until Kristen made the first move.
I didn't have to wait long before she asked if it was allright
to get naked.
It felt weird being nude with another girl outside of the
gym locker room. It wasn't a bad weird, actually I found myself
enjoying looking at Kristen's nude body. Before today, I had
seen her naked, but I never really paid any special attention
to her. Hell, she was only one of a hundred or so in the class
and our gym periods were seldom the same anyway. But now we
were up close and personal, so to speak, and what I saw was a
remarkably attractive girl.
She had jet black shoulder length hair with just a hint of
a wave to offset it's otherwise perfectly straight form.
Kristen was short, about five two maybe, and very petite. I'd
guess she weighed no more than ninety pounds but her boobs were
twice the size of mine. Real firm too. With dark pointy nipples
that looked like they had seen some recent abuse. She had sort
of a round face with pupils that were so black they almost had
a bluish tint to them. In fact I would say, I don't think I
have ever seen a more attractive face anywhere. Her skin was
only slightly darker than mine and was covered by an almost
invisible down that made her look sort of fuzzy the way the
sunlight fell across her naked outline. I found it hard to
picture this thin tiny girl enduring the kind of pain she had
told me about. She did have a superfine body though. Her legs
were thin enough as to leave about a two inch space between her
thighs and like me had a full growth of hair covering her
mound. I wondered what she thought about me.
I had never even considered the fact that Kristen might be
gay or bisexual until now. I could tell by the way she looked
at me that with just one word of encouragement she'd be on me
like green on grass. I wasn't quite ready for that yet. At
least that's what I told myself.
"Let's get started." Kristen blurted out as she proceeded
to dump the contents of her back pack onto my bed. Looking over
her conglomeration of toys, some I'd only seen in books,
brought back my feeling of apprehension. Kristen must have
noticed the look on my face because before I could say anything
she reassured me that she wouldn't do anything to me I didn't
want. She then added that when I was doing her, to do what she
said as well. Her next statement however, awakened that little
voice that sometimes tries to warn your brain before it lets
you do stupid shit, you know, the one you never listen to. She
told me that no matter how bad I might think she's hurting, if
she tells me more, I was to do it, no questions. Then for
toppers, she asked if I was sure no one would be able to hear
us. I assured her we were the only ones for a couple of miles
in any direction. My little voice kept repeating the same five
words, girl,"you are fuckin nuts," over and over.
Kristen introduced me to the breast press first. There was
one for each breast. She had brought four. Somehow I didn't
think they were all for her. They looked homemade but were also
well made. Now realizing I wasn't the only young girl who
frequented the hardware store, I wondered how many there really
were. Anyway, they were simple devices. Each one consisted of
two twelve by two inch round wooden dowels with threaded rods
passing through holes at either end. How they operated was
obvious. Kristen wanted to go first, so I placed the first one
on her left breast and tightened the wing nuts until I was sure
it would stay on. I then repeated the process on her other
breast. She then told me to tighten them up. I screwed the one
on her right breast, first one side then the other until she
said to stop. I then did the other breast the same. Both tits
were bulging like a couple of melons before she told me to
quit. My turn next.
Kristen repeated the process on me. Although my breasts
were smaller than hers, they were plenty big enough to get a
good grip on. I let her continue tightening the screws until
mine were also bulging and starting to hurt pretty bad. Kristen
then wanted me to tighten her's up more. I started with her
left breast. I kept screwing until I thought her tit was going
to explode. I then did the same with the right breast. One look
at her face told me she had to be in excruciating pain. The
veins in her neck protruded from the strain, but she just
clenched her teeth and never made a sound.
I was beginning to think she was in shock, but it was me
who almost went into shock when she told me to take one more
turn on each of the screws. It took most all the strength I had
to get another turn on the wing nuts. The skin covering her
swollen breasts was so tight, I swear I think if I were to
puncture one, she'd fly around the room like a deflating
balloon. The hardwood dowels were actually bending from the
tension and her once attractive young breasts were turning
almost purple from the pressure. The agony she must have been
in was beyond my imagination. I was totally sure that at any
second she would begin screaming and begging me to unscrew the
clamps and stop what must feel like red hot sledge hammers
raining down on her exploding tits.
I am sure that I felt my jaw bounce off the floor when
Kristen finally did speak. Instead of begging me with pain
filled eyes, she only wanted to know if I were going to finish
tightening my clamps or did I want her to do it for me?
"Uh..., I guess so." I replied half heartedly, still a bit
dumbstruck watching her swollen and obviously excruciatingly
pain filled breasts turn steadily darker in color. "Ready?"
Kristen asked. "Now be sure to tell me when to stop." I wanted
to say stop right then, but again ignoring my little voice, I
nodded for her to begin.
Kristen began slowly compressing my already throbbing
tits. As the pain steadily increased with each turn of a wing
nut, I kept wanting to say stop. For whatever reason, foolish
pride, or just not wanting to be bested, I let her continue as
I watched my B cup breasts turn into discolored balloons. As I
felt the tears begin to trickle down my cheeks from the ever
increasing pain, I knew I was near my limit. I closed my eyes
and tried to think of something, anything other than the
searing pain in my poor tortured breasts. I couldn't. The pain
was just to intense. As hard as I tried, and as much as I
wanted to, I just couldn't stand any more. "Stop!"
Kristen immediately obeyed and stood back to admire her
work. I looked down in disbelief at my bulging pain filled
mammaries that appeared at least four times their original
size. The pain was different somehow than pain I had felt
before. This pain didn't seem to stimulate me like other pain.
This just hurt. And hurt like bloody hell! I couldn't believe
how Kristen could just stand there watching me. She had to be
in as much pain as me and I didn't know from one minute to the
next how much longer I could hold on. "Too much for you?"
Kristen tauntingly inquired. "I think so." I replied as I
looked at the now deep purple balls of fire protruding
obscenely from my chest. "Can I kiss you?" I heard Kristen ask.
I don't think I really wanted her to but the pain I was in was
so overwhelming my thoughts that I agreed.
Kristen went to kiss me when our rock hard swollen breasts
bumped together and I almost passed out as what was already
unbearable agony jumped to more than I could stand. I just
couldn't take anymore. I frantically began to unscrew the wing
nuts on my clamps as fast as I could. The incredible pain had
been so intense I was actually having trouble catching my
breath. Seeing I was having trouble, Kristen helped me finish
removing the clamps as I lay back on my bed still catching my
breath. I felt sick as I looked at my once firm young breasts
hang to my sides, still distended and purple colored. At least
the screaming pain was now only a hard ache. That was soon to
change.
My relief from the pain lasted only a few precious
seconds. As the blood began to again circulate through my
severely abused tits, the pain started to increase. I tried to
massage my poor aching breasts but it only seemed to make the
pain worse. I don't think I passed out, but the next thing I
remember was feeling something cool on my chest. It felt really
good. I opened my eyes to find Kristen had put some wet towels
on my breasts and was laying on the bed beside me. I also
noticed she had removed her breast clamps and had put wet
towels on her breasts as well. We both lay motionless on the
bed for I'm not sure how long, but I must have dosed off again
because my next memory is of Kristen slowly running her hand
over my bare skin. She was lightly letting her fingers slide up
and down, barely touching the bottom of my breasts at one end
and going down and barely touching my uppermost pubic hairs.
All of my instincts told me to make her stop. I did want her to
stop. I did. Really I did. Shut up little voice.
Damn it felt so good. My little voice kept telling my brain
to stop me from letting this happen, but it just felt so damn
good. I lay motionless feeling her fingers carress my skin as she
slowly moved her hand up and down. I didn't want to give Kristen
any ideas that I wanted her to do this to me, but I found myself
secretly hoping each time her fingers touched the top of my pubic
hairs, that she wouldn't start back up so fast. I could feel my
clitoris harden each time she touched my hair. Again and again
she would stop as soon as her fingers touched the very top of my
thick bush. Her hand was moving down again. Waiting...waiting, I
felt her touch my uppermost hairs. I had to fight the urge to
buck my hips. My clit was tingling with excitement. Gawd! I was
on the verge of orgasm. Her hand was moving down again. As hard
as I tried to fight it, I couldn't stop from raising my hips.
Just a little. Maybe she won't notice. I really should tell her
to stop but if she'd only touch my clit. Just a little. Please.
Kristen! Read my mind! Her hand started back up. Shit! I felt
like I was going to explode. What's wrong with her? My clit felt
like it was standing straight up, can't she see it? God damnit,
you fuckin bitch, touch me, please! Her hand started back down. I
felt her fingers touch my hair. Right at that point I'd have
given anything if my clit would swap places with my navel. Wait.
Hold that thought. I felt her fingers probe deeper into my
waiting pubic hairs. Slowly she moved her slender fingers through
the thick carpet. Closer...closer. I tried to will my bulging
clitoris to bend back and touch her finger. One finger, any
finger. Closer... I felt her finger touch the foreskin. I was so
wet I could feel the dampness soaking into the bed spread under
my buttocks. At last! She started to make a slow circle around my
throbbing clit with her finger but I'm sure I bucked her off the
bed before she got half way around. I have not a clue how long it was
before I returned from whatever dimension that kind of mind
blowing orgasm sends you to, but if by chance there really is a
heaven, I was just there. I wonder why Kristen is sprawled on the
floor with that big shit eating grin on her face?
DIARY OF CAROLYN
Part Nine
Copyright 1997
Skull Duggery
This is a work of fiction
As my sense of reality began to overcome the orgasmic cloud
surrounding my brain, it occurred to me why Kristen was on the
floor. I faintly remembered putting her there with the wild
bucking of my hips, but it somehow seemed like it happened in
another life. "I've never seen anyone cum as hard as you just
did." Kristen said with a look of wide eyed amazement. She was
obviously very pleased with herself at having driven me to such a
mind numbing orgasm. To be perfectly honest, I was very pleased
with her too. "Did you like it?" she asked. Like it? Hell, I was
still trying to find my toes. "Yes, I liked it. I liked it very
much." was about all I could give her for a reply. Kristen's face
lit up even more than it was. "I'll make you cum again, if you
want me to." she spoke in a soft voice. I thought for a minute
and then replied, "I don't know if I could stand another one like
that without losing my mind. Besides, I feel a little guilty
having all the fun." "You're not." Kristen assured me as she got
up off the floor and sat beside me on the bed. "You may not have
known it, but I came the same time you did. I really like making
you cum. Please let me do it again." After the orgasm I think I
was still having, that was most certainly an offer I couldn't
refuse.
Kristen started to kiss me. This was nothing like the first
kiss she gave me in the kitchen. This time she was very gentle,
probing my tongue with hers while rubbing her soft pubic hair on
my thigh. It felt so weird, so unnatural being touched and kissed
by another girl, yet at the same time so unbelievably wonderful.
This was really fantastic. She then slowly started to move down.
First kissing my neck then as she began kissing my erect nipples
I could feel myself shudder as she lightly flicked her tongue
back and forth over the very tips of my ever so sensitive flesh.
Kristen must have sensed how excited I was getting. She moved
ever so slowly down. Carefully licking the tender undersides of
my breasts. The sensation was driving me wild. I began to feel my
stomach muscles spasm as she ran her tongue slowly down my belly,
stopping to make a few circles around my navel, all the while
squeezing and then flicking my rock hard nipples with her
fingers. When I felt her tongue start to lick the very top of my
thick pubic hair, I began to realize what she was intending to
do. I might have resisted as this was something I hadn't really
thought over, but with the indescribable pleasures this girl was
inflicting on my naked body, even I couldn't be that foolish.
As Kristen continued to lick her way closer and closer to my
waiting clitoris, a troubling thought kept crossing my mind. I
knew she would want me to do the same for her as she had so very
well done for me. Could I do it? Laying here with my closed eyes
being fulfilled with the feelings of ecstasy given to me by
another girl was one thing, but could I give her the same in
return? I jerked as her tongue slipped inside my folds. Could I
put my tongue into her vagina and swallow her juices like she was
now doing for me? My hips began to rise instinctively as I felt
the flat of her tongue getting closer to my clitoris. I could
feel her moving my thick pubic hair aside exposing my clit to her
probing tongue. Then, as her tongue engulfed my throbbing clit,
she squeezed my nipples between her fingernails as hard as she
could sending daggers of pain through my breasts throwing me into
several wonderful orgasms. Every muscle I had strained as wave
after wave racked my body with pleasure. My body continued to
shudder with pleasure while Kristen licked at the cum juice still
flowing abundantly obviously enjoying my flavor.
I felt exhausted. Never before had I experienced so many
orgasms in so short a time. The room even seemed to spin as I lay
there trying to comprehend just what had happened to me. I
started to think about Kristen again, how unbelievably wonderful
she had made me feel. How could I possibly give her the same
level of pleasure I was feeling. Before today, I had barely
thought of making love with another girl, let alone figure out
ways to do it. "That was wonderful." I said as I looked over at
my unexpected but amazing lover. "I'm not sure how good I'll be,
but," still unsure I paused a moment, "if you want, I'll make
love to you." Kristen gave a look of concern as she replied, "Are
you sure, I mean, you don't have to or anything." I thought about
how what started as a torture session had turned into my first
taste of lesbian love and how great so far it had been. I still
wasn't totally comfortable with the idea, but if for no other
reason than to repay her for the intense pleasure she had given
me, I had to at least try. "I want to," I told her as I caressed
her cheek, "I'm not to sure if I can do as well as you, but I'd
like to try." Kristen's face lit up like a bulb. Then, laughingly
as she lay spread eagle on her back she replied, "I promise not
to complain."
I spent a few minutes just kissing Kristen and running my
hand over her like she had done with me. I then slowly started
licking the soft skin of her firm round breasts, purposely
teasing her by not touching her nipples. I also teased her by
burying my hand in her soft thick pubic hair, running my fingers
up and down both sides of her clitoris being careful not to touch
it. Unlike myself, Kristen made no effort to control her rising
excitement. She was already bucking her hips wildly, her swollen
clitoris franticly trying to make contact with my hand. I
wouldn't let that happen. She let out a loud moan of frustration
as she bucked even higher desperately trying for that one
momentary contact that she knew would send her into orgasm.
I couldn't believe how easily she became excited. I also was
surprised at how much I enjoyed getting her that way. When I
figured I had teased enough, I worked my way into a position
where I could do what I suspected she would really like. Then,
without giving her any warning, I slipped my teeth over her left
nipple and as I bit down hard I also squeezed her very erect clit
between my fingernails as hard as I could. Kristen let out a
blood curdling scream as she was overcome by one mega orgasm
after another. I continued to squeeze and pull her sensitive
clitoris as hard as I could as she begged me not to stop between
screams. I too began to climax from the thought of how much her
clit must hurt. The more she begged, the harder I pulled and
twisted her sensitive clitoris. As I reached my own climax, I dug
my fingernail deep into the base of her clit and pulled sharply
upward with all my strength. I knew I had to be causing her
terrible agony but I continued to dig and pull until she was
nearly unconscious from the sheer number of orgasms it caused.
When it was finally over, we both lay exhausted, our bodies
glistening with perspiration, holding each other tightly.
It was well after noon when we recovered from our climactic
exhaustion. Neither of us wanted the day to end but Kristen had
to get back to the school in time to catch her bus. It was hard
for me to imagine having to be worried because my family was
always checking up on me, as did she. I kind of felt sorry for
Kristen, or was I feeling sorry for myself because she had to go,
I wasn't sure. At any rate I helped her load up her back pack,
reassuring each other we would have many more days like this in
the near future.
I watched Kristen jog away into the distance still feeling
aroused from what had been one of the most memorable experiences
to date. I decided to take a bath and think of how I wanted to
spend the rest of the day. Perhaps it was because of the intense
pleasure of my first time lesbian experience, but I wanted to do
something new to myself. Suspension came to mind. Recently I had
been thinking of ways to suspend myself by my wrists for a long
enough period of time to make it extremely painful, but also so I
would be able to release myself before I was happened upon by one
or both of my parents. Also, even though I wanted it to be of
considerable torture, hanging for perhaps two or three days was
out of the question.
This was not an easy problem to solve. I had to come up with
some sort of plan or device that would somehow free me after a
preset length of time but that couldn't be activated early by me.
Not having the option to stop the torture in the event it became
too painful for me always added to the excitement. I will admit
though, there have been times when in various self contrived
tortures, I would have at the time gladly traded the excitement
for access to a stop button.
end of pt 9
DIARY OF CAROLYN
Part Ten
Copyright 1997
Skull Duggery
This is a work of fiction.
I've been told I have a mechanical mind. I assume they mean that
in the context of the ability to understand how mechanical things
work, not literally. I hope. They are probably right, as it has
always been easy for me to figure ways of making most any device I
need from various odds and ends. I guess you could say I was a good
improviser with the ability to also fabricate what I improvised. This
time, however, I really had my brain smoking before I was able to
arrive at a solution. My main problem was the timer. I had estimated
that three to four hours would be about as long as I could stand
being suspended by my wrists. So I needed a six hour timing device.
After considering several options, the one thing that was both
practical and also dependable was ice. Ice was strong, easy to
obtain, and was sure to melt. Deciding on what to use for a timer was
the easy part, how to use wasn't.
I had planned to set everything up in the storage room. This was
actually an old work shop attached to the kitchen hallway. There was
a stout beam running across the ceiling that at one time must have
been used to hoist up machinery or such that was the perfect height
for my purpose. I had worked out my method, but it was as yet
untested. My plan was to hook two elastic bunji cords to an old
stool. I then would attach a length of clothes line to the opposite
side of the stool. I would then run the line out and over an old saw
horse and attach it to this old wooden bucket with a hole in the
bottom. Filling the bucket with ice cubes would pull the stool and
then as the ice melted the bunji cords would pull it back. Therefore,
if I was to fill the bucket, then pull the stool to where the bucket
was hanging by the clothes line, I could then stand on it to hold it
in place. I could then attach myself to the beam, lift my legs, the
bucket would drop to the floor pulling the stool out from under me.
This would leave me hanging by my wrists until enough ice melted to
allow the bunji cords to pull the stool back to where I would be able
to stand on it again. I would try this out today.
I made sure all the doors were locked before I began setting
things up. As per normal, I had that nagging thought of having to
explain why I was hanging nude from the ceiling if someone accidently
found me. It was nearly dusk before I was ready to proceed with my
first experience in suspension. I double checked all of my apparatus
to be sure I wouldn't still be hanging from the beam when my father
came home the next night. Satisfied all was in order I positioned the
stool and stepped up on it. I had wrapped small towels around my
wrists to soften the grip of the rope I had chosen. Also, I didn't
want to go around with red chafe marks on my wrists for the next
week. I put three turns of rope on each wrist before tying the rope
off for some added support. Hoping that I had figured right on
everything, I hoisted myself up a little and lifted my feet off the
stool. So far so good. The bucket of ice did just as it was supposed
to pulling the stool about three feet from where it was. I was now
committed.
With the successful operation of my stool apparatus, any
apprehension I was feeling disappeared. Everything seemed to be going
as planned. My wrists were fairly comfortable with the towels keeping
the ropes from digging into my skin. Also, I was reasonably certain
by the use of multiple coils around my wrists, I would maintain
circulation into my hands. According to the old wall clock I had
wound and set earlier, it was nine o'clock. If all went according to
my plan I could expect the return of the stool by no later than three
in the morning, possibly sooner depending on the melt rate of the ice
cubes. So far I was in no discomfort whatsoever, in fact it felt good
just hanging there.
By nine thirty my shoulders were starting to ache, but I could
relieve the pain by changing my position by pulling myself up by one
arm and then the other. I knew however, this method wouldn't work
very long as my muscles were already tired. I was still not concerned
because judging by my perspiration after only thirty minutes or so,
it was warm enough to melt the ice faster than I had originally
figured on. Ten o'clock. I felt like I had gained fifty pounds. My
body felt like so much dead weight hanging from my arms and I was in
a lot more pain than I thought I would be this early on. I could see
my reflection in the glass of the one outside window and my body
looked really great suspended like I was. The strain gave a good
definition to my muscles and with the coating of perspiration made me
look like an athlete. I could easily count every rib as my skin
stretched taught over my rib cage. I also liked the way my normally
flat stomach actually curved in a little making my pubic bush even
more prominent than usual. I still couldn't understand why so many of
my classmates either trimmed or shaved their pubic hair. Don't get me
wrong, I'm not into the natural look or anything. I always keep my
underarms and legs neatly shaved. I also shave any straggling hairs
that may pop up on my inner thighs, I do like to be neat. Perhaps if
my breasts were larger my pubic hair wouldn't be so important to me,
but I look at it this way. When I was twelve years old I was a little
girl. I couldn't wait to grow into a woman. The two main things that
physically separate little girls from women are boobs and pubic hair.
So, now that I finally have what I waited so long for, why the hell
would I want to make myself look like a little girl again? Although I
am still far to modest to show my bush off, I am very proud of it.
Hopefully, I will someday get the courage to bare it for all to see.
Ten thirty. I no longer had the strength to change my position
so the pain in my arms and shoulders was now constant and steadily
increasing as time wore on. Admiring my reflection in the window had,
however, kept my mind occupied for a while. Reflection in the window.
Reflection in the window. Why did something seem wrong with that.
Reflection, my body's reflection in the window. I can see my
completely naked body reflecting in the window. SHIT! My fucking
heart almost stopped when the problem became apparent. It was dark
outside. It was light inside. That means, anyone outside could see
every inch of me by just looking through the window. SHIT! How could
I be so stupid? How could I have totally ignored something so obvious
as this. It also occurred to me that although I was visible to anyone
outside, anything outside was invisible to me. SHIT!
My mind was racing with possibilities. If anyone was watching me
I wouldn't know. SHIT! There could be more than one. There could be
ten, a hundred, a thousand, even millions of people watching me
hanging naked from this beam. Gawd! I've never felt so naked in my
life. Hell, the channel seven news team could be out there and I
wouldn't know it. I was sick with embarrassment.
Eleven o'clock. I was trying to look at my predicament with some
degree of common sense. I told myself the chance of anyone actually
coming by and looking in the window was very unlikely. It really was
unlikely but when you are hanging from the ceiling, totally nude and
unable to actually see if someone is watching, unlikely doesn't offer
much comfort. There was one positive result. Between the pain,
embarrassment, and utter futility of my situation, I was becoming
considerably aroused.
Eleven thirty. I kept looking at the bucket of ice cubes half
hoping a fire would break out and speed up the melting. I was quickly
reaching the point of having to admit that I may have miscalculated
my stamina. My shoulders felt like they were being torn from the rest
of my body and the unrelenting pain burned clear to my butt. One
thing in my favor was that it was an exceptionally warm night, and
from the puddle under the ice bucket, I was pretty sure I wouldn't
have to wait more than another couple of hours at most. I wasn't sure
I could stand the pain for another two hours. I also knew I had no
other choice. This time, I left myself with no way out. Actually, by
the size of the puddle of sweat under me, I began to wonder which was
melting faster, me or the ice.
Midnight. Every minute that passed seemed like an hour. I was
beginning to wish there really were someone watching through the
window that could get me down and stop the pain. The melting ice had
let the stool slide toward me about six inches. It still had two and
a half feet to go before it would do me any good. My state of arousal
had even gone away. I was now in that state of despair that torture
victims must get when the pain is more than they can endure and all
they have to look forward to is more pain.
Twelve thirty. If there had been anyone watching me they would
surely have rescued me by now. That is unless they were totally
sadistic, because I was now crying uncontrollably. The only thing I
could think about was the pain. I was actually begging for someone to
find me. I didn't care about the humiliation. I didn't care if I had
to stand nude in the town square and tell everyone what a pain slut I
was. I would even tell them how I made love to Kristen. Anything to
stop the pain. The terrible pain was so far above what I could endure
the only thing I cared about was for it to stop. I would even go to
school completely naked and tell everyone how I would walk nude
through the woods with lead weights hanging from my nipples and
pussy. I would do anything if only it would stop the pain.
One o'clock. I now had a new problem. The up side was the stool
only lacked about six inches to go. The downside was two fold. One,
it was a three legged stool and if I tried to step on it too soon I
risked tipping it over. Two, I was near the point of passing out from
the unrelenting pain that by now had me screaming with every breath.
Never in my life had I felt such desperation as I was experiencing as
I fought to stay conscious knowing if I just gave in the pain would
stop. I couldn't even fantasize about anything. I could only scream
and suffer the unending pain as I waited the long minutes for the
stool to appear under my beckoning feet.
One thirty. Finally the stool was almost directly under me. I
now had to pick my legs up enough to step on the stool. I was already
hoarse from screaming as the increased pain from lifting my legs
drove me to scream even louder. I don't know how I stood it but I
did. I could finally feel my screaming pain slowly ebb away as my
weight transferred from my arms to my legs. Hot piss splattered on my
legs as my bladder emptied uncontrollably. I was so glad I had at
least had the foresight to use a half bow knot when I tied myself up
or I doubt if I could have untied the rope now. My arms fell
uselessly to my sides. As I stepped off the stool I felt another
blast of relief. I then realized if I hadn't possessed the stamina to
keep from passing out, I would still be hanging from the beam.
Without my weight on the stool, the elastic cords pulled the stool
another foot past where I had been. Totally exhausted, I left
everything as it was, made it to my bedroom and collapsed on my bed,
piss covered legs and all.
It was nearly noon when I woke up. I was still in the same
position, nude, laying on my stomach with my arms at my sides. I
smelled of sweat and piss. Doing anything about it was a different
matter. All I could manage was to flop over on my back as it was
impossible to move my arms. I lay there for nearly half an hour
trying to get my arms to move with only limited results. If I never
learned another thing in my life, last night taught me never to put
myself in any situation that left me so helpless as I had been
hanging from that beam. It was another half hour before I managed to
get on my feet. My shoulders and arms ached terribly as I waited for
the bath tub to fill.
I must have fallen asleep as soon as I got in the hot bath
because the next thing I remember was hearing the phone ring. I was
sure the answer machine would pick up so I listened to try to hear
who it was. It was hard to hear but it sounded like my dad. I do have
a phone in my room but the answer machine was downstairs in the
living room. I could tell it was my dad's voice but I couldn't make
out what he was saying. It then occurred to me I had left everything
as it was in the storage room. I had to force myself from my soothing
bath, but I had to clean up the storage room before my dad got home.
Drying myself off and getting downstairs was in it's self no easy
task, but through sheer perserverence, and not to mention no other
choice, I removed all evidence of the previous night. That being
done, I went to replay the phone message. It was my dad telling me he
was on his way home. As I went to put some clothes on I thought about
how close I had come to be still hanging in the storage room. Thanks
Murf.
Monday came along much too soon to suit me. I still felt as if I
had been in a football game. In case you saw it, I was the ball.
Kristen, fortunately, was the only one at school that noticed my less
than graceful movement as I tried to hide the fact I was sore in
places until now didn't know I had. Of course, she was full of
questions and just had to know what happened. For someone whom I had,
for all practical purposes known less than a week, she acted like
we'd been best friends for life. In a way it made me a little
uncomfortable. Looking back on it, although Kristen had always kept
to herself, I think she was also very lonely. On the other hand I was
, and still am, more of a loner. It wasn't that I considered myself
better than anyone, just that I valued my privacy, and didn't always
care to spill my guts to whoever was interested. Don't get me wrong,
I liked Kristen a lot. After all, I had almost licked her crotch
three days before, and would many times in the weeks to come, still,
I found it hard to tell her about Friday night. I think also I was a
bit embarrassed at not taking better precautions before doing what I
did. However, she was persistent, and before the day was over I had
given her the blow by blow description.
After hearing my recount of what I considered a painful lesson,
no pun intended, Kristen was nothing less than wildly excited by what
I had told her. I tried to tell her just how bad it was not being
able to end it when the pain became more than I could take. She
wasn't impressed. In fact, all she said was the fact I was telling
her about it meant the pain wasn't really more than I could stand,
otherwise I would be dead. As I was trying to understand her logic, I
heard my name come over the PA system. I was wanted at the office. I
never get called to the office. I told Kristen I'd see her later and
started the long walk to the office. The school office was near the
main entrance to the school. As I came out of the last hall into
entrance area, I saw my father standing by the door. My dad never
comes to the school. I tried to imagine what he was doing here and as
I got closer to him I could see he didn't look so good. I asked him
what was wrong but all he did was give me a big hug and then walked
me out to his car.
What I was about to hear should have been probably the most
devastating words of my life. After we were in the car he said
nothing for the first few minutes. My imagination was running wild
wondering what was going on. Gawd, I thought, had the channel seven
news really been outside the window? Shit! Had he seen me on TV. No,
that couldn't be. They couldn't show that on TV. "Sweetheart, I've
got some real bad news." he said and then paused. "Honey, your mother
is dead." You may think me cold, but after what I had been thinking,
I was actually relieved. In fact I almost blurted out something super
intelligent like, gee dad, did it take you all these years to figure
that out? I know I should have been in tears, but, it was almost like
being told some unknown relative died. Maybe it needed time to sink
in. I kept saying the words over and over in my head. Don't
misunderstand, I was by no definition happy at this, I just wasn't
that sad either. I wanted to ask him what she died from, but I had
never seen my father this broken up over anything before so I kept
quiet as we drove home. I was sure he'd tell me soon enough.
We sat down at the kitchen table and my dad proceeded to tell my
all about what had happened. I was more hurt from seeing how
devastated he was than anything else. What he said next nearly
shocked me out of my shoes. I think I wrote earlier that my mother
had been away taking care of my grandmother. What I didn't say was
that it was my father's mother she was taking care of. My grandmother
on my mother's side as well as my grandfather on my father's side
died before I was born. "What I didn't tell you at school, Carolyn,"
he never called me Carolyn, "was that your grandmother is dead to."
he was so choked up he could hardly get the words out. I couldn't
believe what I was hearing. "What do you mean my grandmother is dead
too? How could they both be dead?" My dad did his best to explain how
they hadn't suffered at all. I still couldn't believe they were both
dead. I had just seen both of them when my father and I went to my
grandmother's house last weekend. He went on to tell me something in
the furnace fucked up and filled the house with carbon monoxide while
they were sleeping. He said they just never woke up. I can't remember
the last time I sat on my dad's lap, but I spent the next hour doing
just that with my arms around his neck.
I didn't go to school the rest of that week. Actually I had my
hands full helping my dad get through it. It's not bad enough that
one person looses a mother and the other both a mother and wife, you
still have to suffer with all the family vultures and the "You
remember me, I met you when you were only this high." mealy mouthed
well wishers. My dad had a lot of friends but if my mother had more
than two she must have kept them tied up somewhere and only brought
them out when no one else was around, because I've never seen them.
Yet, the funeral parlor was full. I had seen most of my father's
buddies at one time or another but there were at least twice that
amount of unknown mourners milling about. Why would you go to a
funeral for someone you didn't know? It must be for the food or the
party afterwards. Who knows? Maybe they just like to look at dead
bodies. That must be it. I'll bet they all pissed their little pants
when they heard there were two at this funeral.
I really believe that the only people who have the right
attitude towards death are the Indians. Those people have the sense
to cut through all the bullshit that we seem to thrive on. You never
saw them pay three thousand dollars for a box made with twenty
dollars worth of wood just to stick in the ground. Whew! And we call
them savages? Not.
Finally, my dad and I were the only ones left. We sat where we
had started at the kitchen table surveying our war ravaged house. We
had survived the various preachers who came to drum up business, the
"At least they didn't suffer" crowd, the "I'm sorrys", and even the
"What were their names" group. In fact, the only ones that didn't
show up were the "I'll stick around and help clean up" people. No
matter. Maybe they'll come to the next one.
end part 10
DIARY OF CAROLYN
Part eleven
Copyright 1997
Skull Duggery
This is a work of fiction.
It was a couple of weeks before my life got back to normal.
That is if you call my life normal. It was an average boring
Thursday in mid October and I was trying to day dream my way
through the last class of the week. Kristen had been bugging me
to come over to my house all week, but, I guess with the funeral
and all I just hadn't felt like doing much of anything. Maybe it
was her bugging or maybe it was just me, but I kept thinking
about our last get together and decided maybe I was ready to try
something with her again. We talked after class and decided to
set something up.
I had had the chance to meet Kristen's parents since the
last, and only, time she had been to my house. They were nice
folks, but compared to mine they may as well have been prison
guards. Over protective doesn't come even close to their attitude
with Kristen. Kristen would have to skip school again in order to
spend Friday with me so I suggested she try to get her parents to
let her sleep over. That way I told her, she wouldn't have to
worry about getting back to catch the home bus. Kristen thought
it was a wonderful idea and said she'd call me later and let me
know. We said our good-byes's and I started the walk home.
Kristen called about eight that night. I could tell by her
voice that she must have got the OK from her parents. She told me
I could expect her about eight in the morning and to hold on to
my ass because she had some really wild shit in mind. I said OK
and hung up. Kristen is still a little scary sometimes. My dad
had gone to some equipment show for his company and wouldn't get
back until Sunday, so at least we would have the place to
ourselves. I figured I'd get to bed early. There was no telling
what sort of "wild shit" Kristen had in mind so I figured I'd get
plenty of sleep.
Kristen was right on time the next morning. This time I
didn't bother to get dressed and greeted her at the door in the
nude. She didn't seem to mind. I believe this to be true only
because before Kristen got sat down at the kitchen table she was
also nude. I made her some sour mash coffee of which she wasted
no time in consuming. Actually I'm a bit surprised the "I believe
I'll have a drink" group didn't suck it up after the funeral.
Maybe they didn't like sour mash. No, I watched them and if they
had found it it would be gone. I made Kristen a second cup and
then listened while she told me of all the fun stuff she had
thought up for us to do.
She started by telling me she had never been naked outside
and from what I had told her of my experiences she wanted to try
it. I agreed, but I also reminded her it was October, and in case
she hadn't noticed while jogging over here, it was less than
ideal nudist weather. She agreed it was pretty chilly outside,
but said she didn't care. I wasn't overly enthused about freezing
my butt off, but I have to admit, the thought of watching Kristen
freeze her ass off was making me real horny.
We went about collecting whatever funtime toys we thought we
might use and put on just enough clothes to safely get to the
woods. Kristen was absolutely buzzing with excitement as we
walked across the open field. As for myself, I couldn't wait to
see how well this petite little girl did in this chilly weather
once she'd taken her clothes off.
The trees still had most of their leaves although they had
taken on the bright colors of autumn. It was an overcast day, the
kind of day that lets you know its not long before winter, but
still warms up to fifty degrees or so. Not so bad except when
you're nude for a long period of time. I knew what to expect as I
had been nude several times in colder weather than this.
Once we were under the cover of the woods, we stripped off
everything but our shoes. "Are you sure you want to do this?" I
asked, noticing she was already shivering. "Hell yes," she
replied, "I can stand it as long as you, maybe longer." I was
glad she didn't say no because for some reason I was really
getting off watching her suffer. I'm not sure why I felt that
way, maybe it was her over confident attitude, but I wasn't about
to knock it. I was really starting to get into this, and I wanted
to see just how much she could take.
I explained where we could go and not get too far from our
clothes in case one of us decided to give up. I think if I told
her we were going to stay here naked until tomorrow she'd have
said OK. Kristen suggested we put on some nipple clamps before
starting out and that I could use the same ones as her. Seeing
nothing wrong with that, I agreed. Actually I had no choice as
since Kristen had said before we left that she had everything we
might want already in her back pack. After a few seconds of
rummaging around, she produced four steel clamps, and I do mean
clamps!
Actually, I believe the correct description was, large
battery charger clamps with strong springs and sharp and nasty
looking serrated ends. Just looking at those babies made my
nipples hurt. I told myself for one sure thing, I intended to see
two of those monsters hanging from her breasts before I would on
mine. I started to wonder who was going to show who as I also
realized I really didn't know how much Kristen could take.
To my surprise, Kristen suggested that we each put the
clamps on each others nipples. That part I didn't mind. It was
the reason she gave that gave me that funny little feeling in the
pit of my stomach. Kristen proceeded to tell me that she had used
these particular clamps before, and they hurt her so bad that it
was hard for her to bring herself to put them on herself. I then
asked why she used them if they were that painful. She just
smiled and said "Because I like it when it hurts real bad." Once
again I found myself at a loss with her logic.
Kristen handed me the clamps and then put her arms around my
neck, arching her back to make her breasts accessible to me. Her
dark nipples were already at full attention from the chilly fall
air and I couldn't resist spending a few minutes on a little tit
play. "Ummm, that feels so good." she whispered in my ear as I
played with her rock hard and obviously sensitive nipples. I
could feel myself getting wet thinking of the pain that would
soon blast through them when those sharp serrations bit in. "Are
you ready?" I asked as I kissed the top of her shoulder. "I'm
ready." she replied as she tightened her grip on me anticipating
the pain to come. I kept getting wetter and wetter as I thought
how this little girl, knowing how much pain these clamps were
going to cause, was holding on to me to get through it. Her bare
skin felt cold against my cheek as I moved my head down so I
could see what I was doing. Kristen's body tensed even more as
she felt me position the first clamp over her left nipple.
I released the clamp, letting the steel teeth dig into her
erect nipple. Every muscle in her young body strained to the
limit, but Kristen didn't cry out. I then let the other clamp
sink it's sharp steel teeth into her right nipple. This time
Kristen cried out. I was so turned on by watching her endure what
had to be excruciating agony, I think I would have cum right then
if not for the fear I was feeling knowing my nipples were next.
Kristen just kept her arms around my neck, quietly sobbing
for what must have been ten minutes or so. When the pain had
subsided enough, she let go of me and stood back. The look of
pain in her tear stained face full well told me what I was now in
for. I was beginning to feel real queasy as I saw how severely
the clamps mashed her pretty nipples. I got even queasier when
she asked if I was ready.
I really wanted to say no. Don't get me wrong, pain does
turn me on. It's just that I wasn't totally certain I could stand
the amount of pain I knew these monster clamps would cause. Also,
there was a ego issue. I was, believe it or not, afraid of being
shown up by Kristen. Unfortunately, I was in a catch 22. If I did
anything except let her put the clamps on me, the end result
would be the same as if I couldn't stand the pain once she had.
Hesitantly I replied, "I'm ready."
I put my arms around Kristen's neck the same as she had done
with me. I half expected she would play with my nipples as I had
done with her, but that was not to be. Kristen wasted no time in
applying the first clamp which confirmed my worst fears as I
awoke anything that may have been asleep with a loud scream.
Before I could even catch my breath from the first attack on my
poor left nipple my right one caught fire. I screamed and danced
around for what must have been ten minutes before the pain
subsided enough for me to get myself back under control. I looked
down at my throbbing breasts expecting to see blood squirting
from my tortured nipples but there was none. From the pain I was
feeling I thought at least my nipples had been cut clean off but
they were only severely mashed. Not at all unlike Kristen's.
We hid our clothes under the tree and headed for the old
pump house. As we both were pretty cold, Kristen's idea that we
jog instead of walk seemed to make sense. At least it did until
my nipple clamps started flopping around making each step total
agony. I would have slowed to a walk except Kristen's were
flopping even more than mine and she just kept jogging. Oh well,
if she can stand it, so can I.
We were both out of breath by the time we reached the old
pump house. I also knew I was going to have to swallow some of my
pride and remove the nipple clamps. My breasts were in so much
pain after twenty minutes of jogging that I just couldn't stand
it any longer. I was just about to tell Kristen of my dilemma
when I noticed she was already removing hers. At seeing this, I
wasted no time in removing mine. When I looked a little closer at
Kristen's nipples, it was clear why she had taken hers off. There
was a small trickle of blood coming from each nipple where the
clamps had actually punctured her skin. After seeing that, it was
hard for me to imagine how she had been able to get this far.
It was still pretty cold as we both got a drink from the old
pump and it didn't look like it was going to get any warmer. At
least the sun was warm and actually, other than being
uncomfortable, I wasn't all that cold. Kristen on the other hand
was not doing as well. I started to get that turned on feeling as
I watched her shiver. Her goose bumps made her fine body hair
stand up and she looked like a little fuzz doll standing naked in
the woods. I went and put my arms around her, not so much to warm
her up, but to feel her naked body against mine. Damn, she felt
good. Unfortunately, Kristen wasn't ready for love making yet.
What she was ready for both shocked and pleased me. She
wanted me to torture her for awhile. Although unsure how she
wanted me to do this, I readily agreed. I had yet to reveal to
her that I was aroused by the idea of inflicting pain on her, but
seeing how it was her suggestion, all the better for me.
What she had in mind was simple. The old pump house had a
beam protruding from the roof with an old iron hook attached to
the end of it. Probably used to hoist water barrels onto wagons
in the olden days. I was to tie her wrists together with some
soft nylon rope she had brought along and then hoist her up so
she could slip the rope over the hook thus leaving her suspended
a foot or so above the ground. She then had me get a leather
horse whip out of her backpack. Flagellation was something I was
less than familiar with. I had once tried whipping myself, but it
was sort of like trying to beat yourself up, not very effective.
This would be different. I could feel myself already getting wet
just thinking about laying it on this defenseless little girl
suspended in front of me.
I took it upon myself to suggest tying her legs together so
that she wouldn't accidently kick me in the head or something.
Kristen agreed and added that I should find a stick or something
to keep her legs spread apart. This I did. There were plenty of
sticks to choose from. I chose one about three feet long.
Having securely tied her ankles to the ends of the stick, I
stepped back to survey my handiwork. Magnificent! Her skin was
stretched taught over her petite frame showing every straining
muscle. I just had to tease her a little before I started her
torture. I made her shudder as I ran my fingers over her cold
skin. She was helpless hanging there. I could do whatever I
wanted. I slowly moved my attention to her hair covered vagina.
To my surprise she was also very wet as I slipped my left middle
finger deep inside her. Kristen didn't appear to mind. I moved my
finger in and out while gently rubbing her clit with my thumb. At
the same time I started doing the same to myself. As I stroked
and rubbed Kristen, I stroked and rubbed myself.
I went a little faster. My plan was to bring Kristen to the
brink of orgasm and then stop. Judging by the fact that she had
her eyes glued to my bush watching me jerk myself off, I figured
she must be getting close. I went a little faster. I kept it up
until her juices began dripping off my hand and I felt the first
preorgasmic spasms tighten her vaginal muscles around my finger.
Then, without any warning, I stopped jerking her and sat on the
ground where she could watch me continue jerking myself into
orgasm.
"Oh, you fucking bitch!" she screamed as I watched her thigh
muscles strain against the stick trying in vain to give herself
enough stimulation to achieve a climax. The more she fought, the
more excited I became. Every muscle in her body bulged as she
tried to pull herself into any position that would allow her to
close her legs enough to get that last bit of stimulation she so
desperately needed. Watching her straining to the limit of her
strength was more than I could take. "Damn you, you fucking
cunt, I'll get you for this!" was the last thing I heard her
scream as I exploded into orgasmic ecstasy.
Kristen was still bitching up a storm when I returned to the
land of the living. Amazingly enough, even though it was only
about fifty degrees, we had both worked up a sweat. Actually I
felt wonderful. There was only one thing bothering me, and I was
about to fix that. I started looking through Kristen's backpack
until I found just what I was looking for. It was a funny thing,
Kristen quit her screaming and bitching as soon as she saw me
pull the roll of duct tape from her backpack. No matter, I used
it anyway. I felt myself getting dangerously into this role. I
was in total control of the entire situation, and loved it.
Kristen was totally helpless hanging from that iron hook. She
couldn't free herself or even make an intelligible sound with the
duct tape stuck across her mouth. I was in complete control of
her immediate future and didn't even feel guilty about it. After
all, she told me to hang her up there. Well, didn't she.
It took several tries before I got the hang of Kristen's
horse whip. Actually, I didn't practice on her, I just let her
watch as I honed my skill on a nearby sapling. Gawd, I was
feeling so wicked. Satisfied I now had the feel of the whip, I
proceeded to my victim. I must have had a vile look about me
because Kristen actually looked a might worried as I cracked the
whip close to her feet. She was trying to tell me something but I
just couldn't make it out through the duct tape. No matter, I was
sure it couldn't be important. I cracked the whip again, this
time making contact midway up her thigh.
"Dance you whore!" I thought, fancying myself as some sort
of high executioner type. I also figured I better not get to
carried away, after all, I might be on the receiving end of this
whip someday. "Fuck it." I thought, "high executioners live for
the moment." as I let the whip find another spot to liven the
nerves on my victim's naked flesh. Again and again the leather
whip left red welts on Kristen's tender skin. My aim was
improving with every stroke. I would lay a few across her
ribcage, then a few more across her tender thighs, finally, a few
across her midsection. Kristen danced and jerked with every
painful lash. I laid about ten across her back, and ten more
across her tiny butt for good measure. She kept shaking her head
back and forth trying to say something through the tape. The way
she was acting, I got the feeling something was wrong. Realizing
how carried away I had gotten, I put down the whip and removed
the tape from her mouth.
"Jesus fuckin christ! What are you trying to do to me?" she
sounded like she was half out of her mind as she spoke. "First
you play with me until I almost cum, then you stop. Now you whip
me until I'm ready to cum again but you won't let me. Why?" I
didn't know what to say. What did she mean? Kristen answered my
thought before I could speak. "Whip my pussy, damit. Quit
whipping my body and just whip my pussy so I can cum!" My feeling
went from one of guilt to one of anger for feeling guilty. So be
it, you want your pussy whipped, you'll get your pussy whipped,
the high executioner never fails.
end part 11