Diary of Carolyn	Back to H	Back to main page

Collected by Djian
update may 16 - 2009

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(self-/f, BDsm, humiliation, exhib, bnd)

A compilation of author's personal diary from the age of thirteen to about age nineteen. It is a fairly detailed description of her experiences in self imposed bondage and personal pain infliction.

Diary of Carolyn 7-15
by Skull Duggery

This is a work of fiction.

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.

> . <

Chapter Seven

Copyright 1997

Skull Duggery

This is a work of fiction

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 accidentally 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

Chapter Eight

Copyright 1997

Skull Duggery

This is a work of fiction

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 participant, 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 all right 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 hers 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 caress 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 dammit, 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

Chapter 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.

DIARY OF CAROLYN

Chapter 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 accidentally 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 itself no easy task, but through sheer perseverance, 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 and 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 also dead." He was so choked up he could hardly get the words out. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "What do you mean 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.

DIARY OF CAROLYN

Chapter 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-bye'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 accidentally 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 pre-orgasmic 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. If you want your pussy whipped, you'll get your pussy whipped.

The high executioner never fails.

DIARY OF CAROLYN

Chapter Twelve

Copyright 1997

Skull Duggery

This is a work of fiction

Again, it took a few tries to get the correct up motion of the whip working with any accuracy. This time however, I practiced on Kristen. In fact, she began bitching again and I was forced to reapply the tape. Hey, don't blame me, remember, she asked me to do this. In fact, she bitched me out for not doing it correctly. Besides, high executioners aren't supposed to have to listen to their victims bitch and complain.

With my victim silenced, I was better able to concentrate on the task at hand. Kristen's pubic hair was almost as thick as mine so I had to get the end of the whip to snap rather hard to get the desired effect. That was to get her to dance each time I found my mark. Actually, I was very impressed that she was able to dance as well as she was. After all, she had been hanging from her wrists for an hour now, and was still able to pull herself up to where her head would hit the beam whenever I would get a good snap directly on her labia or clit. Not bad for a ninety pound girl.

I moved around to Kristen's back side. My aim was really improving as I applied a few well placed lashes that snapped at her swollen clit. She instinctively pulled herself up with each stab of pain. I moved back to her front. I let loose with several hard strokes that drove their way through her thick bush, stinging her most tender flesh. I was wearing her down. I could see it was becoming harder and harder to pull herself away from the stinging whip. It was all she could do to get enough air through her nostrils as her chest heaved in and out. I tore the tape from her lips so she could breath easier as I continued to lay the whip deep into her labia. Every muscle in her petite body shook with exhaustion as she tried to thrust her vagina to meet the oncoming whip. Every part of her naked skin was now glistening with perspiration as she screamed with pleasure with every crack of the whip. The more she screamed, the harder I laid it on. Even when I could see small spatters of blood appearing on her inner thighs, I didn't stop. I too was covered with sweat and almost out of breath when Kristen finally climaxed.

Her screams of pleasure and pain turned into moans of satisfaction as her body slowly became limp from total exhaustion. I threw down the whip and collapsed to the ground jerking myself off with both hands while I watched her limp, sweat soaked body hang in complete exhaustion. The sight of her hanging there made me so hot I quickly lapsed into one gigantic orgasm after another. What a day this had been!

I think I was still in orgasmic heaven when I realized Kristen was still suspended from the beam. As exhausted as I was it took all my remaining strength to hoist her up enough for her to unhook from the beam. What I didn't expect, was her to collapse on top of me knocking us both to the ground. I did manage, after a couple of tries, to roll her off me. It actually felt good for awhile just laying in the dirt reliving what I had done.

Unfortunately, having worked up such a sweat, I soon began to get a serious chill. I went into the pump house and forced myself to wash off with the icy well water. Kristen was coming around, so I brought her inside and introduced her to the well. She called me everything nasty she could think of when I doused her with a bucket of cold water. I know that dumping cold water on your naked body when it's only fifty degrees may not be real smart, but when you've walked for an hour with twigs, leaves and other forest debris stuck in every body orifice, you would really rather be cold.

We shook off as much of the water as we could and then decided to stay inside the pump house until we dried off. Kristen was definitely the worse for wear. Until now, I hadn't been fully aware of just how much abuse I had inflicted on the poor girl. She was covered with red welts from her shoulders to her knees. I felt like dog shit and tried to apologize but she told me not to worry about it. She told me that I gave her just what she asked for and that she really got off on it. I had to admit to her that for however much she got off by taking it, I got off just as much, if not more, by giving it to her. She did however, make me promise to swap places the next time.

Air drying on a cool autumn day in Indiana is at best time consuming. It is also extremely uncomfortable, actually bone-chilling, especially if you are nude. You could throw a cat through the wall almost anywhere in that broken down old pump house so it offered only marginal shelter at best. Kristen and I embraced our naked bodies trying to get as much warmth as possible. It wasn't much. Eventually we dried off and started back towards home. We started out jogging but after only a short distance Kristen had to stop.

Heh, heh. I guess the high executioner had given her a little too much of a pussy whipping.

I may have thought this humorous at the time but, it wasn't to far into the future when I would be laughing out the other side of my face. I had her set on an old log so I could see how bad it really was. She didn't appear to be bleeding but she did wince several times as I worked my way through her thick pubic hair trying to get a better look. I couldn't see any open wounds, but her poor labia and clit were fire engine red. It looked like our only choice was to walk as I knew there was nothing we could do to ease her pain until we got home.

It was a long walk back to the edge of the woods. At least I was only cold. Poor Kristen was not only cold but I could see the agony in her face with every step. It made me wince just thinking of her raw inflamed labia rubbing together with each step, but she never complained. Finally the edge of the woods was in sight.

As we made the last few steps to where we had hidden our clothes, I wanted nothing more than to cover my freezing body. However, I helped Kristen get her clothes on first. It was like being paroled from a life sentence it felt so good as we got inside my nice warm house. I helped Kristen up to my room. We then shed our clothes and crawled under the covers of my bed. Kristen lay on her side with her back to me and I put my arms around her and hugged her shivering body as tightly as I could. It wasn't long before we were both sound asleep.

It was dark when we finally awoke. Neither of us had changed position from when we fell asleep hours ago. I turned on the lamp beside my bed and then saw that Kristen had tears in her eyes. When I asked her what was wrong her answer almost started me crying. "I'm all right," she said, "I'm just so happy here with you. It feels so good to feel your body next to mine." I had to choke back the tears as I thought about the abuse I had given her and how much I had enjoyed doing it. Then, for her to say what she just did, was breaking my heart.

I didn't want her to see me start crying so I went to draw us a warm bath. I managed to swallow the lump in my throat while the tub was filling up. Poor Kristen was so sore it was all she could do to get to the bath tub. I helped her into the warm water then eased myself in the opposite end facing her. We then alternated between soaking and washing each other until we finally ran out of hot water. Kristen lay back on my bed while I went to get some lotion to put on her welted skin. I couldn't believe I had done this to her. I returned with a bottle of skin lotion determined to give Kristen the best massage she had ever had. I had her lay first on her stomach. I started with her feet and then moved slowly up her legs making sure to spend extra time on the places where the whip had left welts. All together it took me a good half hour just to do her back. I then had her roll over exposing her front. This time I started at the top. I massaged the lotion carefully into her arms working my way down to her neck and shoulders. I knew my efforts were paying off by the totally relaxed look on her pretty little face. Kristen let out a gentle sigh as I started massaging her firm breasts. I continued to massage her breasts with my fingers while gently using my thumbs to play with her stiff nipples. I moved my massage away from her tits only after I noticed her hips start to gyrate from the arousal.

I was amazed at how well the lotion was working. Actually, although I never told Kristen, the lotion I was using was some stuff my dad had got from the veterinary supply. I believe it's original intent was soothe the effects of mastitis on cow's teats. No matter, it worked well on people too. I spent the next thirty minutes or so massaging her stomach, sides and legs. I was intentionally leaving her pubic area for last.

Kristen looked like she had fallen asleep so I pulled out one of her long pubic hairs. "Ouch!" she yelped and gave me a puzzled look. "I just wanted to make sure you were awake to enjoy this." I told her. Kristen assured me she was feeling every bit of the pleasure I was giving her. Giving Kristen this massage was the first time I had really been able to closely check out her young body. For her small size she was actually quite muscular. The fact she had been able to hang by her wrists while being whipped for nearly one and a half hours and still have the strength to lift herself up by her arms attested to that. Her breasts were slightly larger than a small watermelon and incredibly firm. If they remained that way throughout her life I'm sure she would have to defend the fact they weren't artificial many times. Her skin was flawless, with the exception of the temporary damage done to her today, from head to toe. I had saved Kristen's pubic area until last for a reason. I had never made love with another girl until Kristen made love to me. Until then, I also had never considered burying my face in another girl's crotch. Even so, the idea of tasting Kristen's vaginal juices had been on my mind since the time she did me. I now had the chance to find out what it would be like, and I didn't want her flavored with skin lotion.

Kristen's pubic hair was incredibly soft. I started by slowly kissing around the edges of her incredibly beautiful bush moving the thick hair aside with my fingers so my lips would contact the soft skin of her inner thighs. Sensing what I was up to, Kristen opened her legs exposing herself to me completely. I couldn't believe how much I was enjoying this. I continued to alternately kiss and lick all around her pubic bush. Sometimes I would use the tip of my tongue to work through her hair and touch her skin. At others, I would just lick her bush with the flat of my tongue. Perhaps it was just the new experience, but I liked the feel of her soft pubic hair on my tongue. Kristen jerked a bit when I rubbed my nose across her clitoris. I had expected there to be more odor, but in fact, any smell was barely detectable. I wonder why the boys were always talking about fish? What odor there was, smelled good to me. What about her taste? Thus far I had avoided licking any of her juice. I knew what I tasted like from licking my finger after masturbating, but, would she taste the same? It was time to find out. I glanced up. By the way Kristen was playing with her nipples, I could see she was getting into this as well. I put the tip of my tongue at the base of her slit. I was careful to avoid her anus as tasting shit had not been any part of my fantasy. I have heard that it isn't bad but I was content to take whoever said that at their word. Kristen began to raise and lower her hips as I slowly worked my tongue upward. Surprisingly, there was very little taste considering the amount of vaginal juice she was pumping out. I buried my tongue as far inside her as I could. This pushed her on button. She let out a loud moan and bucked her pelvic bone into my nose to where I saw stars. Nonetheless, I kept working my tongue in and out as Kristen came closer and closer to climax. I couldn't believe how wet she was. I kept licking and poking with my tongue, then every so often I would lick across her clit, making her shudder with pleasure. All this was getting me so horny, I started fingering myself at the same time. Finally, when I figured Kristen was just about to cum, I sucked the whole of her clit into my mouth. She let out a scream of pleasure and then her whole body stiffened with orgasm. I rolled onto my back and with one hard squeeze of my own clitoris, joined her in that far away land of orgasmic ecstasy.

We both lay for awhile enjoying the feeling before saying anything to each other. My mind was racing with thoughts of everything that had happened that day. The one thing that made me the most uneasy was how much I had enjoyed whipping Kristen. I had long ago accepted the fact I was turned on by inflicting pain on myself, but today had shown me another side of myself that I wasn't sure I liked. Even though it was what Kristen had wanted, the feeling of power that was going through me as I cracked that whip across her naked body was scary. I felt as if I wasn't in total control of myself. I actually felt rage, yet I wasn't angry. I had never been whipped, or, tasted the lash, as they say and I wondered what it would be like when I did. Would Kristen get pleasure from making me scream with pain? It would be a fortnight before I would find out.

I was a little worried when Kristen didn't show up in school on Monday. It wasn't like her to miss school. Hmmm, maybe I only think she just skips school to be with me. Then again, maybe her parents spotted the welts I left on her and kept her home. Oh Shit. What if she broke down and told them what happened. I was imagining myself into a cold sweat. I started seeing visions of my Dad and hers showing me a picture of Kristen's welted body and asking "Do you know anything about this? Are you responsible for this cruel act of sadism? Well, Carolyn, are you, are you?" I ran into the girl's room and splashed some water on my face. I had almost scared the shit out of myself with my imaginary panic attack. I knew it was all in my mind. Still, I listened for my name to come over the loudspeaker.

I listened for it all day, but my name was never called. I tossed the idea of calling Kristen's house back and forth between yes and no all the way home that afternoon. I figured if she was out getting her licks and lashes with someone else, that was her business, but what if something was wrong. If there was something wrong, did I really want to know about it? I thought again of what I had imagined earlier, but I saw Kristen before she left my house on Saturday morning, and the welts had almost completely faded away. I wondered if she was sick. I decided to call as soon as I got home. Kristen's mother answered the phone. I asked if Kristen was home and her mother hesitated a moment and then said "Just a minute, I'll see." and I heard her lay the phone down. A couple of minutes went by when a boy's voice came over the phone asking who I was. This phone call was getting weird. Another couple minutes passed and then a man, her father, I guess, got on the phone. "Who is this?" the voiced asked. "This is Carolyn, Kristen's friend from school." I replied. "What do you want Kristen for?" he then asked. "Oh, nothing special, I just wanted to talk." "What about?" he asked. I didn't want to let on she missed school in case she had skipped so I only said "Oh, just some stuff, nothing important." "She's busy." was all he said before hanging up on me. Maximum weirdness. I toyed with the idea of going to her house but decided against it. Her family actually scared me. They sort of reminded me of want to be homicidal maniacs just waiting for someone to play with. I'd rather it not be me.

I was relieved to see Kristen in school the next day. When I asked her about Monday she only gave some vague answer that she had to do some stuff for her mom. When I told her about the conversation, if you could call it that, with her Dad, all she said was "Oh, just wait till you get to know him, it'll be worse." It was pretty clear she didn't want to talk about whatever it was, so I left it alone.

The rest of the week passed with no major incidents of any kind. I hadn't been able to figure what was up with Kristen and I became even more curious on Thursday. I had pretty much assumed she would come to my house Friday night, but when I asked her about it she told me she was sorry but she was going to be busy all weekend. No other explanation. Actually, it turned out just as well, as I ended up spending the weekend at the Ohio State Fair with my Father having a wonderful time. Still, I couldn't stop thinking about Kristen. I would however, have all my questions answered in the not so distant future and be wishing I never asked.

DIARY OF CAROLYN

Chapter Thirteen

Copyright 1997

Skull Duggery

This is a work of fiction

This particular year we ended up with the annual Thanksgiving vacation during the third week of November. Kristen seemed to have gotten over whatever problem she was having and to my surprise and delight, she asked if she could spent a couple of vacation days at my house. I suggested Monday and Tuesday as I was anxious for some private time with her. The only thing I was a little concerned with was that she had made it clear that it was my turn to feel the whip.

The doorbell brought me out of a sound sleep on Monday morning. Still half asleep I was trying to think who could be here at five thirty in the morning. Hell, it was still dark outside. I crawled out of bed and put on my bathrobe. The bell rang twice more before I got to the door. To my amazement, it was Kristen. She was totally out of breath and wearing only a tee shirt and jeans with her backpack hanging on one shoulder. She explained between breaths that she had to get out of her house before her dad woke up but wouldn't elaborate any more than that. My curiosity was on maximum but I didn't press her any further about it. Kristen looked pretty cold so I suggested we jump into my bed for awhile. Kristen wasted no time in taking me up on it.

We spent the next couple of hours snuggling naked under my blanket. Kristen seemed unusually loving considering she had just ran the better part of seven miles getting here. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't complaining. I only wished I'd gone to the bathroom before we started making love. Before I knew it, she kicked the covers off and got herself into a sixty-nine position with me. She started rubbing her pubic hair in my face all the while furiously licking mine. The more she licked the more my bladder began to ache. I kept on licking her juice and darting my tongue in and out of her vagina trying to ignore my now burning bladder. Finally Kristen started to cum. Soon after, so did I.

I felt as if I would loose control of my urine at any second as I started to slide out of the bed. "Where are you going?" Kristen asked. "I gotta piss right now." was all I could say as I started for the bathroom. Before I knew what was happening, Kristen jumped in front of me blocking my way. "No you don't." she said. "You're my slave today and you'll go to the bathroom when I tell you and not before." Shit. I did vaguely remember agreeing to be her slave, but I thought she only meant it was my turn with the whip. "But you don't understand," I told her as I danced from one foot to the other trying to hold it in, "I'm gonna piss right here on the floor if you don't let me go."

"Okay," she replied, "but as my slave you will have to do something for me first."

"Make you cum?" she wanted me to bring her to another climax before she would let me piss! I wasn't sure I liked this slave bullshit. Oh well, I did agree to it, I hope she cums real fast. Having thought I was going to relieve myself had made my situation even worse. My bladder now throbbed unmercifully as I climbed back up on the bed. To make things worse, Kristen insisted on another sixty nine, this time with me on top. I was quietly begging that I could get her off quickly as I painfully moved into position. Why the fuck was I letting this little bitch give me orders? I might have asked her that if not for remembering the beating I gave her last time. Besides, in a way I guess I asked for it when I agreed to be her slave for a day.

That little saying of my Dad's came to mind again. You know, brain in gear before dumping clutch, yea, that one.

I began licking Kristen's already wet pubic hair. I tried to concentrate on what I was doing but Kristen, for some reason, seemed to be trying everything she could think of to agitate my already painful bladder. I did everything I could think of to bring her to orgasm for what seemed like hours before she finally started to cum. As she started to cum, she buried her face in my crotch and wrapped her arms around my back and started to squeeze. I felt like I would explode. I dug my fingers into the bedspread gritted my teeth against the knife-like pains tearing through my tortured bladder. Finally she released her grip and I literally dove from the bed. I could feel the hot piss spraying on my legs as I straddled the toilet. I wondered to myself as I sat there if Kristen knew just how close she had come to me pissing all over her face. You know, if I didn't know better, I'd almost say that was what she was trying to make me do.

After we both had a shower I suggested we have breakfast before we do anything else. I also told Kristen she could cook the bacon. Sometimes personal revenge can be so sweet. Kristen knew little about cooking so I emphasized she should cook the bacon on high and stand close and don't let it burn. I also made sure to wash the bacon well so there would be plenty of moisture to cause plenty of little hot grease spatters. Sometimes I am so bad I could just hate myself, that is, if I didn't have so much fun at it.

Breakfast was great, although the bacon was a bit under cooked. Kristen insisted we go to the pump house. She was determined that I get my turn to be under the lash, so to speak, and this was going to be the day. I believe if it wasn't for that feeling of guilt I had for enjoying whipping her so much, I would have refused. Although it hadn't snowed yet this year, it was most definitely winter and damn cold outside. Too damn cold to be wandering around the woods in the nude. I agreed to go to the pump house, and she could do whatever she wanted, but I was keeping my clothes on until we got there.

"You know," Kristen said as we started across the field, "you're supposed to be my slave today. If I told you to get naked right here you're supposed to obey me."

"Don't press your luck." I replied feeling a little irritated at her attitude. I didn't really mind playing the part of her slave, but it would be a cold day in hell before I would do it for real. Besides, I didn't here her complaining about the coat I loaned her. The temperature wasn't terribly cold, about thirty I guessed, but there was a good stiff breeze out of the north east that made it feel much colder. At any rate it was cold enough that I didn't want to spend any more time naked than was necessary.

The closer we got to the pump house the more I thought about my upcoming ordeal. It bothered me that Kristen was so adamant about doing this today. I did trust her, at least I thought I did, but I also knew I would be helpless and totally at her mercy once I was hanging naked from that beam. I also had to consider that when she was hanging naked from the beam, she was at my mercy. Still, I felt like I was marching to my own execution.

The cold wind made the idea of taking my clothes off less and less appealing as we came into sight of the old pump house. Also, not wanting to suffer this alone, I insisted that Kristen be nude as well. Although I had kept her hanging for an hour and a half, and I was sure she intended to make me suffer at least as long as I did her, I hoped being completely nude she wouldn't be able to stand the cold that long. Hell, I wasn't sure I could stand it that long. I mean, I had on jeans, a sweatshirt and a fur lined wind breaker and I was already cold. I could always look at the bright side, maybe she forgot the whip. Not. Well, at least we wouldn't have to spend an hour getting back to our clothes when this was over.

As I stood naked and shivering in the pump house waiting for Kristen to finish tying my wrists together, it occurred to me that either of us should be eligible for a lifetime membership at the state funny farm. I became certain of it as I stepped outside and the wind cut across my naked skin like a million tiny razor blades. As I felt Kristen's firm breasts pressing on my stomach as she hoisted me up I knew I couldn't be crazy. I must like what I'm doing, otherwise why would I be getting so wet between my legs. After all, what could be a more natural turn on than hanging naked in the freezing wind waiting to be horse whipped?

I was waiting for Kristen to tie my ankles to a spreader stick when realized she had a different plan. She also caught me by surprise when I was about to protest this new plan as she slapped a piece of sticky duct tape across my mouth. Mmmmmfp. So much for verbal protests. All I could do was watch as she tied a long piece of rope to each of my ankles. She then tied the first rope to the base of a small nearby tree stretching my leg out and pulling me off to one side. It was now clear to me what she was doing, and I'm not sure I liked it. She repeated this with the other leg and pulled until my feet were a good four feet apart. It wasn't so bad that my legs were spread, except the way she had tied them also pulled down, effectively increasing the strain on my arms and shoulders. That little word, trust, kept popping into my mind as I hung naked and gagged with my legs stretched between two trees. If it had been a mistake to trust Kristen, I could end up in deep shit. That thought left me as the first lash gave me something else to think about.

It became immediately obvious to me that Kristen had used this whip before. It was also apparent that there was much about this girl I didn't know. As long as we had been classmates I couldn't recall her being close with any of the other girls like she now was with me. Yet, I was sure I was far from the first to feel that whip of hers. She methodically worked her way first up one leg, then the other. It was no mistake the way she had tied my legs, as unlike I did with her, she left me no way to recoil from the blows. Even worse, my icy-cold skin made the pain much more severe than it normally would have been. By the time she was satisfied she had given sufficient attention to my legs they felt like they were on fire. Then she started on my upper body. She really knew how to use that whip. I was barely able to stand the pain as she worked her way up onto my rib cage but when she started on my breasts I thought I would go out of my mind. She placed the first lash so that the tip snapped at my right nipple. It made my entire breast explode with pain. Before I could recover I felt my other tit explode with even more intense pain. This was too much. I tried to tell her to stop but my screams couldn't get out. She gave me four more and then stopped. I had never even imagined pain like this. The screaming pain in my arms and shoulders was nothing compared to the searing fire left by the whip. Tears poured down my cheeks as I screamed in vain from my gagged mouth for her to let me down. What was she doing now? I could hear her working the old pump inside. Gawd, what was she, thirsty?

It seemed like forever before Kristen finally came back out. At first I couldn't figure what she had been doing then I noticed the water dripping from the whip. Why would she put water on the whip? Although my body felt as if it were on fire, I was sure the whip hadn't been. "You doing okay?" Kristen asked in a mocking sort of way. I tried to tell her "Hell no! Get me the fuck down from here!" but I could only make muffled sounds through the duct tape. "That's great," she mocked again, "because I'm going to show how a real pussy whipping feels." I began to realize why the whip was wet.

Kristen went around behind me to where I couldn't see her. She cracked the whip in the air and it sounded like a gun shot. I started to feel like I was going to shit myself from the fear of what I knew was coming. I was in no way prepared for what came next. Kristen let the whip snap my clit on the first swing. I don't think it would have hurt any more if she had torn it from me with red hot pliers. She then laid five more deep in my vaginal lips before coming around to where I could see her. If I hadn't been so well restrained, I'm sure my pain dance would have put Fred Astaire to shame. The little bitch then started whipping my pussy from the front. I screamed so much I couldn't even hear myself anymore. She must have kept this up until I finally passed out because the next thing I remember was waking up still screaming, untied and inside the pump house with Kristen wiping my forehead with a damp cloth.

I was no longer in control of myself. I belted her square in the nose, knocking her to the other side of the room. I had never been a fighter or scrapper but all of my pain somehow turned into a rage of which I had no control. Before Kristen had time to understand what was happening, I was on top of her punching and kicking her in a violent fit of rage the likes of which I'd never felt before or even to this day. I had her beaten half into unconsciousness and was well on the way to completing the job when she started screaming and crying, "Please, no more, Daddy, please don't hit me anymore."

My rage left me as fast as it had came. All the little pieces of the puzzle were coming together. I went from a fit of rage to a fit of crying as the meaning of what she said in her half conscious state sunk into my brain. I started to feel sick as I looked at her curled up on the floor, shaking all over with blood dripping from her nose and mouth. I felt lower than a bug and prayed someone would step on me. I tried to help her up but she just kicked at me and told me to leave her alone. I couldn't really tell if it was more from anger or embarrassment that she refused my help, but it was plain I should leave her alone for awhile. I covered her with her clothes and both jackets, then put on my jeans and sweatshirt and went outside to think while I waited to see what Kristen was going to do. I was cold and sore but there was no way this side of hell I was going to leave Kristen here alone.

My brain was rolling with imagined scenarios of what Kristen's life was really like. It was obvious to me that her father beat her, but to what extent? Other than stern words, I couldn't remember a time when my dad, well, other than a spanking or two, ever lifted a hand to me. I wondered if there was more to it than beatings. Kristen had learned to use that whip somewhere. Had she learned from him? What a thought.

I'm not sure how long I waited before I heard Kristen moving around inside. I felt so rotten about what I had done to her I no longer cared about the whipping she had given me. Actually, I wished someone would come by and shoot me in the head. I was so sore it took a couple of tries to get to my feet but I did and went back inside to see if Kristen would even talk to me. She had gotten dressed and was trying to wash the dried blood from her face as I walked in. "I'm real sorry Kristen, I don't know what happened, I just lost control of myself, I guess. Really, I am so sorry." I said trying to apologize.

The response from her wasn't what I expected. "Yea," she replied in a kind of surely tone, "well, if you hadn't caught me by surprise, I would have fucked you up." There was a few moments of silence then Kristen cracked a little smile. The flood of relief that came over me made me weak in the knees as I gave her a big hug. She let me help her finish cleaning up and we started back for home. I may have forgotten about the condition I was in with what went on at the pump house, but it all came painfully back to me as we started the walk back. I wasn't wearing any underwear and my jeans were killing my crotch. I tried walking like John Wayne but that only made it worse. Finally I had no choice but to take them off. As soon as I got my jeans off I sat down to inspect myself. It was obvious I had been bleeding as my pubic hair was stiff with dried blood. Just trying to move the hair aside so I could see where the blood was coming from brought tears to my eyes.

It was now Kristen's turn to say she was sorry, and she did, many times. Nevertheless, I knew I would have to go the rest of the way home bottomless. The cold wind stung my legs as we made our way back through the woods. Although it still hurt to walk, the cold was far better than trying to wear those tight jeans. The problem came when we reached the edge of the woods. I did not want to walk across that open field naked from the waist down, and I didn't want to put my jeans on either. If I pulled my sweatshirt down enough to cover myself then it made me walk with my legs together, and that hurt like hell. Fuck it. For the first time in my life I forced myself to ignore my modesty and we walked on to the house. It may sound like I'm talking brave, but, as usual, there was no one besides Kristen to see me.

I stood naked in front of my full length mirror in disbelief at the reflection of myself. I looked like something from outer space with all the red welts covering my body from head to toe. Damn, I thought, she must have had a field day after I passed out. Kristen denied that she had. I also asked about her father but she denied that too. I suppose it was none of my business anyway, but I was curious and, a bit concerned. No matter, it was my turn for the lotion massage.

I must give Kristen credit. For as vicious as she was at inflicting pain, she was equally as passionate at giving pleasure. The method she came up with to massage me with lotion was something I probably would not have thought of in a hundred years, but it was fantastic. First she rubbed lotion all over my back and legs. She then straddled me on all fours and proceeded to use her pubic bush to rub it all in. I know it sounds weird, but it made me cum twice before she even finished my back. Actually, I think my second orgasm was from the anticipation of her doing my front. In fact, after she started my front, I knew it was. After rolling me over, she again covered me with lotion. She then started at my feet, rubbing her thick bush up and down my legs until all the lotion was massaged in. Every once in awhile she would press herself down to give herself a little stimulation as well. I could feel yet another orgasm building inside me as she massaged my hips and then began to rub her hair on my stomach. I don't even know how to describe the feeling, but I was cuming again by the time she started to rub her bush across my erect nipples. Kristen continued to tease my nipples and I kept cuming and cuming until my body felt completely drained of energy. I felt like I was in some sort of dreamland where everything was perfect. I could see stars and colors and I never wanted to leave. Gawd, I felt good.

It must have been real good because when I did come back it was dark outside. What time was it? I had that unexplainable sinking feeling you get when you think you overslept and missed something important. You know, like you were supposed to pick up the President at the airport three hours ago, or your parents are due home and the dead body is still in the kitchen. I soon realized I missed nothing important, but where was Kristen? The clock said nine. I knew it wasn't morning, unless we were having an eclipse, and I was sure I'd have heard about it if one was planned. So what happened to Kristen? I looked all through the house. No Kristen. I couldn't believe she would just take off without saying anything. Feeling between my legs, I realized she had put lotion on me there. She must have done it after I fell asleep. Funny that didn't wake me up. Maybe she left a note somewhere. I started looking for one.

After an exhaustive search of the house, I finally found her note in the most unlikely place imaginable. Stuck under the pillow I was sleeping on. What a crazy place to leave a note. She explained that I looked so peaceful and happy she didn't want to wake me, but that she had to get home and she would call me later. What did she mean by later? Later that night? Later that week? Later on in life? Hell, why be specific, I'll just set around and wait. I thought about calling her house but after the last time, I wasn't sure I was up to playing twenty questions with her family only to be told she was busy or something. Fuck it. I turned off the ringer on the phone and went back to bed. I could check the answer machine in the morning.

DIARY OF CAROLYN

Chapter Four-teen

Copyright 1997

Skull Duggery

This is a work of fiction

The steady unblinking light on the answer machine the following morning trashed any guilt I might have been feeling for not waiting for Kristen to call. However, it bothered me that I didn't know what was making her act so weird lately. At any rate, dwelling on it wasn't going to do any good, so I did my best to put it out of my mind, for now.

I didn't see Kristen for the rest of the fall vacation. When I did see her the following Monday at school she would barely speak to me. It was at this point I thought it best to end whatever relationship we had. Perhaps it was that I had always been sort of a loner, but I just didn't have the tolerance for whatever kind of mind games she was into. I also believe this experience helped me to understand how people could get into one of those love/hate relationships if they didn't see it coming and put a stop to it. Besides, as much as I had enjoyed making love with Kristen, I felt like it may be time for a little male companionship for a change. The majority of the boys in my senior class comprised two distinct types. There were the agricultural type who would be perfectly comfortable going someplace in a tuxedo as long as they could wear their manure covered boots. Then there were the scientific type. Most of these guys were about as exciting as a case of chicken pox, unless of course you were also the scientific type, then I guess they could be a ton of fun. I didn't fit into either of these categories. Actually, at that time I wasn't sure there was a category for someone like me.

You may think me unreasonably picky when I tell you that out of my entire class there were only three boys who I would consider having sex with. However, before you pass judgment, look at the facts. Fact one, between the shit kickers and the computer nerds there was little to choose from. Fact two, just because I was raised in farm country doesn't mean I have an automatic calling to live my life as a farm wife with ten gazillion screaming kids underfoot. Fact three, although I will probably never make the cover of Vogue, I'm for certain not bad to look at and with the exception of my smallish tits, I've got a body to die for. Fact four, I really don't mind being alone. Fact five, well, there is always Kristen.

Unfortunately, of the three I mentioned, only one had ever shown any genuine interest in me. And, as you might suspect, he would probably have been my third choice, had all three been available to me. His name was Paul Carter. Paul was, I guess, sort of a cross between a computer nerd and a James Dean type. He was the kind of guy who blended in with whatever was going on at the time. Actually, I think what I'm trying to say is, he looked just as comfortable in a three piece suit as he did in greasy jeans and an old t-shirt while riding his old pan head Harley. I might also mention that he was the only one who didn't have a steady girl friend at the time, and, he was the only one of the three who had actually asked me out more than once. Of course, the fact that both Jason and Carl had been going steady with their own girls at the time they asked me out may have had something to do with it. Paul seemed a little surprised when I approached him with my offer to take him up on the date that I had previously turned him down on. Actually, I half expected to get the same treatment I had given him, but such was not the case. In fact, once he got over his apparent disbelief, he seem genuinely pleased with the idea. He told me that he was going to be tied up all week, but he invited me to go with him to a biker bash he was going to on the weekend. Sounded good to me. He did say however, it hinged on the weather. He said we could always put on enough clothes to stay warm on the ride but even he wasn't crazy enough to ride his Harley in a snow storm. I spent the rest of the week hoping it wouldn't snow.

My luck held up all week. In fact, a warm front was forecast for the weekend with temperatures up to fifty degrees for Saturday and Sunday. I told my dad about my plans on Friday night and was a bit surprised when he insisted that Paul pick me up at our house because he wanted to talk with him before he would let me go. Knowing my dad, there would be no big deal. He probably just wanted to show Paul his gun collection and impress on him that he would get a closer look at it if anything bad was to happen to me. I was right. As we started out the driveway on Saturday morning, Paul commented on how nice the collection was. Somehow the phrase "warm front" takes on a new meaning when you are doing sixty on a motorcycle. It was more like if you wanted to be warm, make sure someone was in front of you. Fortunately, it was only about an hours ride to the next county where the biker bash was to take place. It is also amazing how warm fifty degrees feels when the motorcycle finally stops.

I was totally fascinated with this new experience. I had never been to anything even close to a biker bash and I also never expected to see as many weird people as there was here. Actually, I didn't realize there were this many weird people in the whole state.

What was even stranger, Paul seemed to know a lot of these people. Paul introduced me to a bunch of people that morning, most of which had names like "Spike" or "Dirt Bag" and one I especially remember called himself "Word Monger" I guess because he wrote for some motorcycle magazine or something. Weird but mostly friendly people. There I go again, calling other people weird, like I'm so normal. We spent most of the day checking out all the various displays and what not just wandering around the whole area. Paul was very attentive, and although all this was new to me, I had a feeling I could really get into this kind of life-style. Paul and I were also invited to a private party that evening, shit, I thought were already at the party. That may have been what I thought then, but that night would show me what a real party was.

Everything was pretty much over by five o'clock so Paul suggested we go to where the party was going to be before it got much colder. I agreed, but told him I needed to call my dad and let him know we were going to be late. I told my dad I didn't know what time we would be home and he only said to be careful and that he would be home if I needed him for anything. You know, it's an awfully good feeling to have a parent who trusts me the way my dad did. I do so love that man.

It took us about a half hour to get to the party location. I was totally shocked at how beautiful a house it was considering what all the people looked like that were milling about both inside and out. I asked Paul whose house it was and he said it belonged to the president of one of the local bike clubs and he also owned the Harley shop. That figures.

I was glad to see that Paul felt about the same as me when it came to drinking. Although most people disagree, I can have a much better time at a party sober than I can drunk. And this was a party. Things were getting pretty wild by around ten o'clock as I started to notice a few of the girls who were drunk enough had shed their clothes and were just walking around nude. I couldn't imagine how they could do it, but deep down I sort of envied them for their lack of modesty. Actually, I think what bothered me most was the way they were showing off their bodies. Hell, my body was in better shape than any of them. But then I didn't have the guts to do what they were doing, or did I?

It was along about midnight when a bunch of the guys decided what the party really needed was a beauty contest. Everyone seemed to agree as there were about thirty girls so there would be plenty to choose from. I even started to get excited about it until I realized it was going to be a nude beauty contest. Even if I was able to go through with it, how would Paul feel? I am definitely not used to drinking, and maybe it was just the three or four beers I had drank, but I wanted to be in the beauty contest. To my surprise, Paul thought I should too. He actually said he would be proud of me if I entered. "But Paul," I said, "how could you be proud of me when I would be naked in front of all these people. I mean, you've never even seen me nude." "Listen babe," he replied, "just the fact that you have the guts to get naked is enough to make me proud. Besides, I've been wanting to see how you look naked for a long time." Hearing that made me both embarrassed and excited at the same time. It may have been the beer, it may have been the party, or maybe it was just that this was something I needed to do for myself, but I decided to go for it. Of course the fact that other than Paul, I knew no one else here, had a lot to do with it too.

After eliminating the girls that either didn't want any part of it, or were to drunk to comprehend what was going on, there were twenty-two contestants. The rules were simple. The judges were everyone that cared to judge. All the contestants would be fully clothed for the first round. Each girl was to stand on the pool table to be judged. The judges would rate each contestant on a scale of one to ten. The girls that received an average of five or higher would get to go on to the next round of elimination. Like I said the first round was clothed. The next was to be topless and the third and however many successive rounds it took to determine a winner, the girls would be totally nude. One at a time we took our turn on the pool table amidst the whistles and cat calls to be judged. Actually, I was rather amazed at the number of whistles I received as I took my turn on display. I'm not sure if I was, but I felt beet red all over from the combination of embarrassment and excitement at this public display of myself. And I still had all my clothes on.

Six girls were eliminated on the first round. I was not one of them however my ego was somewhat deflated as I only averaged a six on the scoring. If it hadn't been for Paul's encouragement, I think I would have quit right then.

All the contestants then stripped from the waist up. I was embarrassed almost to tears as I had to absolutely force myself not to cover my naked breasts as I stood waiting my turn on the pool table. I studied the other contestants as I waited, noting that only two had tits as small as mine. One thing in my favor though, my nipples were much more perfectly shaped and definitely longer. I was also a bit surprised, and very pleased, that Paul seemed to ignore everyone else's bare breasts except mine. I really did hope he liked how I looked. It's funny how sometimes your feelings make absolutely no sense. As embarrassed as I was with only my top off, I found myself looking forward to getting completely naked just so Paul could see all of me.

Finally it was my turn on the pool table. As I walked across the table, I felt so naked in front of all these people yet I was also terribly excited at doing it. Also, if the whistles and cat calls were any indication, I must look okay even with small tits. Even so, I did my best to accent what I had and even summoned enough courage to tweak my erect nipples a couple of times before getting off the pool table. I'm pretty sure it helped my score because this time around I averaged an eight. This round eliminated four more girls, leaving twelve for the third round. By the way, two of the four were the ones with breasts like mine so I know my nipples made the difference. Also, I was beginning to lose some of my embarrassment. I think the fact that Paul couldn't keep his eyes off me had a lot to do with it because just knowing he liked what he saw was making me hot.

The entire party was glowing with the excitement of seeing the twelve of us completely nude. Two hours ago if someone had told me I would be taking my clothes off in front of a crowd of strangers, I'd have said they were fucking nuts, and here I was doing just that. I had finally overcame my foolish modesty. It was actually a feeling of relief as I stood next to Paul, totally and completely nude for all to look at. "You are gorgeous beyond anything I imagined." Paul whispered in my ear. If not for this contest I could have fucked him right there on the floor his words made me feel so good. That's okay, I could wait.

I continued to check out my competition as I waited my turn. There were some really good looking girls among the twelve now showing themselves completely nude. I was however, for certain the most girl-next-door-type of the group. I wore little make-up and with my tattoo-free body and natural bush I looked nothing like some of these biker babes. Finally it was my turn to strut my stuff.

I still couldn't believe I was really doing this as I climbed onto the pool table. One part of me wanted to cover myself up and run away in shame, yet another, more powerful part wanted to show myself off to these cheering party people. And this I did. I let them see every private part of my naked body. Strangely enough, it made me proud hearing them shout compliments about my lean young body. There was one more girl to cross the table after me and they started the scoring.

When the judges finished they announced a tie. Actually, it was a three-way tie. I didn't think there was any way I could have been one of the winners, so I nearly fell over when I found that of the three to get a perfect ten, one was me. The other two were both biker looking gals, hard looking I thought, but very attractive nonetheless. I began to wonder what they would do to break the tie.

It became apparent that the two biker babes had had this problem before as they suggested solving the problem same as last time. "That's fine by us," replied one of the judges, "but that method might be a bit rough on the new girl." I hated being referred to as the "new girl", nevertheless I wondered what they had in mind. "Your name's Carolyn, right?" one on the judges asked. "That's right." I replied. "Well, here's the deal," he explained, "these two bimbo's, I mean ladies, tied the last time we did one of these contests. Being the piss sluts they are, they settled the contest by which one had the highest tolerance for holding their piss after taking a couple of my old lady's water pills. Now, I realize this may not be to your liking, and you tied with them fair and square, so, if you got a better idea we're listening." Paul started to protest this idea but I motioned for him to forget it. I figured when it came to holding my piss I had as good a chance to win as did they did, so I agreed.

"Then that settles it." remarked the judge, "You gals go empty your bladders so as everyone starts even then each of you take two of these here pills. They work real fast so it shouldn't take long to see who wins. By the way, you three get to stay naked so as we all can enjoy this too." I hadn't considered that part but what the hell, everyone there had now seen me nude, what was another hour or so.

Fast was a bit of an understatement because within fifteen minutes I was ready to piss up a storm. I wondered if the pills had worked as fast on my competition as I watched the two of them playing pool with some of the guys. It didn't look like it as they jumped up and down flapping their boobs around every time one of them sank a ball. Paul kept asking me how I was doing and I would tell him fine, but in reality, my bladder was starting to ache pretty bad. This sure was a weird way to settle a tie in a beauty contest, but these were sort of weird people so, I guess that makes it not so weird. Right?

By the time thirty minutes had ticked by I began to think I actually might lose this deal. I had never had any experience with water pills but if they worked the same for everybody I couldn't imagine how those other two gals could still be jumping around. My bladder ached all the way from my belly button to my butt hole to the point where I was almost afraid to walk, much less jump. I sat on the couch and started making out with Paul trying to get my mind off my aching bladder. Actually, I wished this would get over with so Paul and I could go somewhere private. This new experience of showing myself off nude had made me really fucking horny. I really didn't think I would ever have the guts to show my nude body to a room full of strangers, but now that I had, I found I was really turned on knowing they were looking at every inch of my young body and enjoying what they saw.

It had been almost an hour when I began seriously considering giving up. Making out with Paul had helped for a while, but when Paul had got a little carried away and started playing with my pubic hair, I almost pissed all over his hand as well as the couch. I was just about to concede when everyone started cheering. I almost couldn't believe what was going on, but one of the biker babes was standing over by the pool table, laughing and pissing right on the floor.

"One down, one to go." one of the judges hollered out. How fucking gross, I thought to myself. It was now between myself and this other girl named Sharon. I still wasn't very optimistic about my chances of winning because unless Sharon gave up in the next few minutes I didn't believe I'd have any choice. My bladder hurt so fucking bad I was almost afraid to move.

"Come on you two lovely ladies, get back up on the pool table so we can all watch the end of this match." suggested one of the judges. I began to see just what these jerks really wanted. I had thought that one of us would give in and then head for the bathroom but that wasn't how this game was played. It was pretty obvious that Sharon and I were supposed to stand on the pool table until one of us lost control and put on a piss show for the audience. I also no longer wondered why the cloth on the pool table was so discolored or why no one seemed to mind when that other chick pissed all over the floor.

Even with Paul helping me up on the pool table, I could feel myself starting to drip. My swollen bladder burned like fire with sharp stinging pains shooting down to my vagina. I thought I must be out of my mind for going through all this agony for a stupid bikers beauty contest. I managed to stand it for about another fifteen minutes before the pain became too much even for me but when I tried to piss I found that I couldn't. I guess the thought of not only being naked but also relieving myself in this public display wouldn't allow me to let it go. I tried desperately to hide my distress but the more I tried to piss the worse the pain became.

I knew if I could only get my mind off the fact I was standing nude on top of a pool table being watched by a couple of dozen people I'd be able to piss. I tried to think of something else but with all the people cheering me and Sharon on it was not easy. By the looks of Sharon, I'd guess she was hurting probably as bad as I was and the fact that we were both now glistening from perspiration was exciting everybody even more. Whatever. At this point all I cared about was stopping this unbelievable pain. I thought maybe if I masturbated a little I might relax enough to let it go, but I didn't think I could bring myself to do that in front of all these people. I mean, the fact I had gone this far was something right out of Ripley's.

No matter. I was too desperate to worry about it now. I closed my eyes and started to finger myself slowly. I felt like crawling into one of the pool table pockets when everyone began cheering me on. The cheering made it worse. Every time I would touch myself it would make my bladder spasm with pain but still no piss would come out. It was then I noticed Sharon was masturbating also. I began to relax a little seeing this along with the fact she was really trying to put on a show. She was leaning back and fingering her exposed clitoris back and forth as fast as she could when without warning a big stream of hot piss sprayed from her pussy, covering the people who had gathered around her for a better look. Seeing that was all it took to finally get me going. I just stood with my eyes closed and my arms at my sides as my piss splattered on my bare legs while my bladder emptied. It then occurred to me I had actually won the contest. Purely by chance too, because if I hadn't locked up when I tried to piss I would have been the loser. Not bad.

It was pretty clear pool playing was over for the night as Paul helped me down from the piss soaked pool table. At least that's what I thought until I noticed two rather drunk couples racking the balls on the wet cloth. To each their own, I guess. As for me, I was glad to get my clothes back on, although I did feel good about what I had done. Having finally been able to break that psychological modesty barrier was a far greater triumph than was winning this silly assed beauty contest. And the fact that all this made Paul more proud of me was icing on the cake.

DIARY OF CAROLYN

Chapter Fif-teen

Copyright 1997

Skull Duggery

This is a work of fiction

Paul and I spent the night in one of the spare bedrooms. I'm not sure if it was because I won the contest or if the guy that owned the house was just real accommodating, but it sure beat freezing our asses off riding the motorcycle home. Besides, I'd been waiting all evening to find out what it would be like to make love to Paul. The only downside was those damn water pills. It seemed like I had to go about every ten minutes. Actually, I was wondering if I'd end up pissing out all the water in my body and then dry up and blow away like those mummies do in the horror flicks. Paul thought it was rather comical, but when I offered to get some pills for him, he quit laughing.

Paul had had plenty of time watching me parade around in the buff but now it was my turn to see what he looked like. Paul went on to the bedroom while I made another trip to the bathroom for what I hoped would be the last time for awhile anyway. When I got back to the bedroom, Paul was already butt naked laying on the bed. So far I wasn't at all disappointed. Paul had a good build for an eighteen year old guy. He didn't look like a body builder or anything, but he was lean and well proportioned. Considerably above average in my opinion. Anyway, it didn't take me long to shed my clothes and join him.

I was horny as hell and had been for quite a while so even if he had been butt ugly it probably wouldn't have mattered right then anyway. At any rate, we were still at it when the sun began it's climb up the eastern sky that morning.

My dad was a bit pissed off when we showed up at ten o'clock Sunday morning. Paul hadn't forgotten the gun collection and was real concerned about what my dad might do. It turned out all right because he was actually more pissed at me for not calling and telling him we'd be out all night than he was at Paul. Nevertheless, Paul opted to leave telling me he'd see me in school the next day. That worked for me because after no sleep for twenty-four hours all I was interested in was a hot bath and dreamland.

I fell asleep thinking about my new experiences and feeling good at having broken down some of my mental barriers. It's not that I wanted to run around being Carolyn the carefree nudist or anything, but I was pleased with myself knowing that I now could.

I swear I didn't know anyone except Paul at that party but by Monday morning the whole school knew I'd won the Miss Nude Piss Slut contest in the next county. Gawd, what's next? Pictures, book offers, movie rights? Paul was dead. By nine o'clock I had already sliced off every one of his fingers in the paper slicing machine. I had cut out his tongue and burned his eyes out with a red hot iron rod. I had used a rusty hacksaw to cut off his balls and then pulled his prick out with vise grips then twisted it until it tore from his body spraying blood like an open fire hose. I then poured gasoline over the dirty bastard and set him on fire. That will teach the no good cocksucker to flap his jaws about me. Now that I had all that straight, all I had to do was find him.

"Carolyn! I swear I never said anything to anybody about Saturday night!" was the feeble lie that spewed from his lips when I finally cornered him.

"Oh yea!" I screamed in his face, "Then how come everybody knows about it?"

"I don't know baby, but it didn't come from me. You've known me here in school for a long time. Have you ever heard me brag to anyone about anything, ever?" He was right. Paul really wasn't the type to huddle with the boys and detail his activities. If not him, then who?

I sort of muddled my way through classes the rest of the day trying to think of who would have seen me strutting my stuff on Saturday night. I do have to give Paul his due for putting a stop to the snide comments I was getting. After he jacked Andy Preston's jaw up for yelling "Take it all off baby," everyone else took the hint and shut up. Who the hell could it be? I thought about it constantly for the next two days going over in my mind every face I could remember seeing but with no results.

When I woke up on Thursday morning I was still a bit angry over the deal, but I was also a lot horny. Maybe it was just that it had been awhile, or maybe I was pissed at myself, but I had a real desire to self inflict some big-time torture that morning. As I was considering several options I noticed it was snowing. A fucking blizzard no less. That would insure no school and I was off Friday anyway. I was really in the mood for some heavy duty shit so, what could be worse than a trip to the pump house naked in a blizzard. Add some nipple clamps and weights and that ought to get whatever is bothering me out of my system. Don't you think?

I considered the fact that since it was snowing, it wouldn't be dangerously cold. Probably around thirty or so. At any rate I figured it would be cold enough so that I would be painfully cold before I was back and that's exactly what I wanted. I'll probably never really understand why I get feelings like I do where I want to make myself scream with pain and discomfort but as long as it never gets to the point where I maim or kill myself in the process, I figure what's to understand. I gathered up a few of my little toys and decided to wear only my boots and knee length coat since I was going to get naked as soon as I got to the woods. I figured why bother with anything else.

It couldn't have been snowing long as there was only about an inch on the ground and as hard as it was coming down, it wouldn't take much time to accumulate that much. It was a little colder that I had expected but that was fine with me. I really wanted to suffer and just thinking how bad it was going to be once I was nude was making me even hornier than I already was.

As soon as I got into the woods I shed my coat. There was almost no breeze and it was for certain going to be cold enough for the day to be just what I wanted. Painful. The below-freezing air made my normally pronounced nipples jut out even further as I connected my steel nipple clamps tightly onto them. I had also brought along a length of coarse rope which I tied around my waist and then through my crotch. Making sure the waist rope couldn't slide down, I then tightened the crotch rope so that it dug deep into my vagina for a little added discomfort. It felt all right now, but I figured once I started walking it wouldn't take long for the rope to rub me raw enough to be real painful. I then attached a sixteen ounce weight to each nipple clamp and after a couple of minutes of gritting my teeth while the initial sharp pain subsided, I went about the final part of my plan. I pulled a set of hand cuffs from my duffel bag and made sure I had the key. I then cuffed my wrists together behind my back leaving the key in my duffel. This final item would insure that I could do nothing to relieve my torment until I got back and got the key.

The snow was coming down even harder as I began my walk. The big flakes stung at my skin as they landed and melted. My skin was still warm enough to melt the snow flakes but with the moisture they produced I knew that wouldn't be the case long. My teeth were chattering like a woodpecker and the two pounds of weight hanging from my nipples hurt like hell but I was enjoying every minute of it. By the time I was half way to the big rock my crotch rope felt like it had grown to twice it's original size. For all I knew maybe it had as I was excited to the point I was producing a fair amount of juice. Even so, I kept plodding along keeping in mind that for every step forward, I would have the same number to endure before I could get back to where I had stashed the hand cuff key.

By the time the big rock came into view, walking was becoming more and more painful. The rope had become wet enough to where it was sliding back and forth with every step scraping it's coarse fibers on my now raw pussy. The snow was no longer melting on my naked skin but I was chilled to the bone. I decided to rest by the big rock for a few minutes and take stock of my situation. I needed to decide if I should continue or turn back.

I had left myself virtually helpless by cuffing my hands behind me and although I felt a real need to inflict as much pain as I could stand on myself, I certainly didn't want it to prove fatal. As I leaned against the rock common sense told me that no matter how bad the pain got, I could probably force myself to endure it long enough to get back. The cold however, was a different matter. I had spent a little more than an hour totally nude in about twenty-nine degree weather and if I continued on to the pump house that would be another hour. I felt sure I could stand it that far but once there I would be looking at another two hours getting back. I considered jogging to reduce the time as well as provide some body heat but between the crotch rope and nipple weights I knew that to be impractical. Also the snow was falling even harder. With everything considered, I started back.

It was both a strange and wonderful feeling being all alone and naked walking through the winter woods in a blizzard. Everything was dead silent except for the sound of my feet shuffling through the new fallen snow. If not for the burning pain in my crotch and the sharp stabs of pain in my breasts as the two lead weights swung about occasionally banging into each other, I could have let my mind wander into an unconscious haze along with the pristine beauty of my surroundings. I must have been in some sort of haze as the next thing I knew I had tripped on something covered by the snow and was falling face first to the ground.

I let out a scream heard only by the millions of tiny snowflakes as the forward motion of my fall caused the weights to drag in the snow pulling on my nipple clamps making them ratchet to the point of what felt like they had crushed my nipples. With my hands cuffed behind me I had no choice but to roll over on my back to get back on my feet. Both of my nipples felt as if someone was holding a lighted match under them as I struggled to regain my footing. The rope I had running through my crotch tore at my abused labia making it feel like it was sawing me in half as I finally got back on my feet. I just stood there cursing myself for not paying attention to where I was walking and gritting my teeth against the unbearable pain shooting from my nipples on through my chest. It was actually bringing tears to my eyes. I then cursed myself for cuffing myself helpless.

The pain was so intense I was actually becoming desperate trying to think of some way to make it stop. Also the cold had gotten to me so much that I was shivering uncontrollably adding to the problems I already had. I decided to try and slip my wrists over my feet. At least if I could get my hands in front of me I would be able to release the clamps. This became a priority as instead of the pain subsiding in my breasts, it was getting steadily worse. I dreaded having to sit back down in the cold wet snow but it was the only way. Once again the crotch rope dug deeply into me as I sat down lighting fire to my raw and swollen flesh. At this point I would have gladly traded my long legs for a much shorter pair as I tried to curl myself up enough to get my wrists over my feet. As hard as I tried, I couldn't quite make it. The rope in my crotch was to tight to allow me to bend myself forward enough even though I strained to the point where I thought I would pass out from the pain. After three or four tries I was forced to accept the fact that there would be no relief until I could get back to the edge of the woods. I managed to get on my feet with much pain and difficulty. The pain in my nipples had peaked and started to ease up a bit. I don't for the life of me know why as they were discolored and squashed flat between the steel clamps. Still in all, I was getting more and more turned on by the pain and the fact I was powerless to do anything about in for about the next forty five minutes or so. I was freezing my ass off and the rope made my crotch burn like fire with every agonizing step. Also, I had to piss real bad. At least that was something I could take care of.

I started to squat to relieve my bladder but as my crotch rope started to drag through my raw pussy I cancelled that idea. The thought of spraying piss all over my legs while trying to do it standing up was less than appealing but somehow inevitable. I managed to lean back against a tree, then spread my legs as far as possible. Even so, the rope caused my urine to spray in every direction but down. The rope had rubbed me so raw that what I perceived would be a relief was actually a labor of agony as my urine burned like fire before it landed on my freezing cold legs. However, I gritted my teeth and squeezed out as much as I could.

As I continued along, my most severe problems were the crotch rope and the cold. The pain in my nipples had become tolerable but was offset by my aching muscles from my body trying to maintain it's temperature against the winter air. Also, the rope running through my pussy folds felt like it was made from pieces of broken glass. Still, I plodded along actually becoming more turned on with each pain filled step. After what seemed like hours of this torture, the edge of the woods came into sight.

I collapsed to my knees, exhausted from my ordeal next to my duffel bag that held the key to my freedom. Getting it open was to prove a bit more difficult than I had anticipated. I had failed to consider that my hands would be numb from the cold and working with them behind my back not being able to feel anything was making it very difficult to open the zipper. As much trouble as this was, I began to wonder how I would be able to use the handcuff key once I had the bag open.

It took several attempts but I finally managed to open the bag. My next problem was finding the key. I had absolutely no sense of feel in my fingers as I vainly searched through the bag hoping that by some miracle the keys would somehow sense my dilemma and jump into my waiting fingers. Miracles, however, only happen to those who believe that fate is somehow controlled by unseen forces or as a way to explain away reality that they don't understand. Although I do not subscribe to that particular philosophy, after enough movement of my bound hands, they regained enough circulation to enable me to finally feel the object of my search.

At this point I was glad I had taken the time to practice removing the handcuffs before I set out on this latest adventure. Otherwise, I doubt if I would have been able to free myself in the condition I was in. Although it took several tries to get the key into the lock, the feeling of relief that flowed through me when the cuffs clicked open was indescribable. After shaking as much circulation back into my arms as possible, I opted to first remove the crotch rope. This proved to be an exercise in pain tolerance as my ample pubic hair had become frozen to much of the rope. Being at the edge of the woods I didn't want to take the chance of someone hearing the scream I new I would make when I pulled the rope free, I covered my mouth with one hand and tried to prepare myself for the inevitable agony that was to come. The fact that my body was numb with cold did nothing to ease the pain of ripping my pubic hairs out by the root as I screamed into my hand while I pulled the rope from my tortured crotch. All I could do was stand there shaking while I built up nerve enough to remove the clamps from my nipples. I knew from experience what I was in for when the circulation returned after being clamped this tight for this long.

END

Chapter Fifteen

As far as anyone knows,
Chapter 15 is the last posting by the author.

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