Diary of Carolyn

DIARY OF CAROLYN

Chapter Three

Copyright 1997

Skull Duggery

This is a work of fiction

What follows are the details of a few of the most remarkable experiences that come to mind during my summer vacation preceding my senior year of high school. My thrill of outdoor nudity and the always present danger of being seen had certainly not diminished even after my Christmas disaster. I'm still not sure about those voices. I had pretty much resolved myself to personal means for my sexual gratification. Although I enjoyed going out with guys and I did enjoy intercourse, somehow I always ended up less than satisfied. I had entertained the thought of perhaps finding someone who might share the same sexual deviance as myself but in this hick town if you told a guy you enjoyed pain, he'd hit you with a beer bottle and then wonder why you weren't happy about it. I am quite certain there are people around here doing things a lot more weird than me for sexual satisfaction, but no one would ever admit it. If only sheep could talk.

I saw very little of my mother that summer. My grandmother had become ill to the point where she needed constant help with everything so my mother stayed with her during the week. She would be home on whatever weekends she could find somebody to take her place. No matter really, I had lost the need of a mother long ago. When it came to my father, I may not have been able to tell him my innermost secrets, but I knew without any doubt if I ever really needed him, he'd swim an ocean or walk through a wall to keep me from harm. At any rate, the summer offered me many opportunities to experience anything I dreamed up.

To this point I had yet to duplicate the earth shattering orgasm of almost a year ago. The memory of my Christmas fiasco still angered me and the more I try to tell myself there really was someone who almost happened upon me, the more I think it was only my imagination that screwed me up. No matter, I had a new plan anyway. Besides, if it hadn't been so stinking cold, everything would have worked out anyway and it's not cold now. I fell asleep as I went over the various trials and tortures I would inflict upon myself tomorrow.

I awoke early. The sun was barely peeping over the eastern horizon as I shook the sleep from my eyes. Since I was the only one in the house most of the time, I now stayed nude as much as possible. It's hard to realize until you do it for awhile, but being naked is easy to get used to and I've actually gone outside without thinking and then had to dash back in the house for fear of being seen. I've always wondered why I was so damn modest. I mean, I'd seen lots of other girls naked and with the possible exception of my small breasts, I had as killer a body as any of them. I stood in front of my wall mirror checking myself out as I thought about this. I studied my breasts and to me they looked all right. I was by no means flat chested and besides, having played around with all my plum bobs and other fun toys, I couldn't imagine having two humongous blobs of tit flesh hanging from my chest all the time. Actually for as slim as I was, they were about the right size. Well, maybe just a bit bigger.

I continued to view myself in the mirror thinking how lucky I really was. I must have had good genes to stay this slim with no more attention then I pay to diet or working out. One thing that disappointed me was at seventeen and only five foot six I was about as tall as I would get. My abdomen didn't have any rippling muscles like those women in the exercise videos on TV, but I was flat stomached and I had a small but tight butt. I ran my fingers through my pubic hair as I continued to look myself over. Having grown up with mostly the same schoolmates I had seen every one of them naked in the showers following gym class and there is only three other girls with a pubic triangle as good as mine. I've actually been complemented on it by a few of my classmates while either showering or drying off in the locker room. It's embarrassing to me having another girl tell me how pretty my bush is but inside I always felt good. I remember once we all took a secret poll. All the girls in my class had to tell that if they absolutely had to show up at school either topless or bottomless, which would it be? Out of nearly one hundred of us, only five chose to be naked from the waist down. I was among the five but if it would have been real I'm sure I would have chickened out.

I went down to the kitchen to fix myself some breakfast before starting my planned activities. One should always be nude when cooking bacon. Trying to outwit the bacon can be loads of fun as you never seem to be able to tell when those nasty little spatters of hot grease are going to attack you. It's absolutely amazing all the simple things there are to have fun with. Finishing my breakfast, I went to my room to collect my toys of the day.

Although I had decided what I was going to do to myself the night before, for some reason I wasn't totally happy with the plan. I sat on the edge of my bed thinking how I should change it. I knew my dad wouldn't be home until the next night and my mother not before the weekend, so I had no real time limit. My excitement was building as I considered things I could do to make this a twenty four hour ordeal. I had never even thought about being naked and helpless outside for that length of time before. Hell, the weather would be no problem. This time of year was hot during the day but it wouldn't get cold enough at night to be much more than uncomfortable. I also began to think if I did it right, I could get myself off big time, perhaps several times. I knew if I caused myself too much pain I couldn't last the full twenty four hours. As much as pushing myself to my limit of pain benefited my orgasm, I knew from experience if I tortured my pussy and nipples it would end too soon. My nipples and labia become so tender after a session, it's at least a couple of days before I can torture them again. I have tried to put myself through it twice in one day but the agony is more than I can begin to endure.

I decided on something that would tax my physical strength to the limit of endurance rather than of sheer pain. I put on an old summer dress to get me from the house to the woods and then went about getting what I would be needing. I took along two sandwiches and a quart of water. If I needed more water there were many places in the woods to get it. Indiana does not lack for ground water. I made sure nothing was forgotten and excitedly started out.

Once outside, I realized I'd picked a day that was going to be really hot. It was typical summer high humidity and at only eight in the morning the sun felt hot as I made my way across the open field. Once inside the cover of the woods, I looked back just to be sure I was alone before removing my dress. I pulled my dress over my head and carefully hid it under some leaves next to my usual tree. It was at that point the reality of the situation hit me. The fear and apprehension that came from knowing for the next twenty four long hours I was going to be completely nude, except for my tennies, with absolutely nothing to put on no matter what I might encounter, had me absolutely vibrating with excitement. The fact was I vibrated myself into having to shit and .... I knew there was something I forgot. No matter, leaves can't be any worse than that John-Wayne-don't-take-shit-off-nobody cheap-assed toilet paper my mother buys.

Having finished my necessities, I began to implement my plan. I also made a mental note to send some leaves to the toilet paper company. If they could take the hint, it might improve their product. As I mentioned earlier, my plan was to tax my physical endurance more than my pain limit so I had brought along a small wooden bucket with two small wire handles on each side. I had in my duffel bag eight plum bobs, some clamps of no consequential weight, shoe lace, sandwiches which I would eventually eat, and my quart of water. My plan was to attach two of my self adjusting get tighter than shit when you pull hard and hurt like hell clamps on my nipples and had resolved to leave them on through my entire ordeal. I would then put my duffel bag in the bucket. I figured the entire arrangement would weigh about twelve or thirteen pounds. I would then attach shoe laces between my nipple clamps and the bucket handles just long enough so I would have to carry the bucket at waist level to keep the strain off my nipples. I vowed to myself the clamps were staying attached for the full twenty four hours, and that whenever I picked the bucket up I could not put it down in anything less than thirty minutes. This rule would apply whenever I picked the bucket up, no matter the reason. Incidentally, this time I wore a watch.

It was eight thirty by the time I had everything hooked up the way I wanted so my ordeal wouldn't be over until the same time the following morning. Twelve pounds didn't seem like much as I grasped the bucket at the bottom and rose to my feet. I made the first half hour with no problem. The clamps made my nipples sting a little but unless I was to pull on them, they wouldn't ratchet themselves tighter. I might mention that the clamps only work one way. They ratchet tighter to compensate for the amount of tension they need to support but do not automatically release. My arms were starting to get tired but I was also becoming aroused. I intended to have as many orgasms as possible by tomorrow morning so I opted not to rest after my first thirty minute walk. I could tell by the feeling in my arms that I'd be begging to put the bucket down before another thirty minutes passed and if I had a third hand to touch myself with, that thought alone I think would have gotten me off.

I had things figured pretty close. By the time I had gone another fifteen minutes, the bucket was rapidly becoming more difficult to carry. My arms became a steady dull ache as I strained to keep the bucket at waist level. I wasn't exactly sure how far I could let the bucket drop before the clamps would start to tighten, but it couldn't be more than two or three inches at most. At any rate I didn't want to find out this early on. Another five minutes went by. The muscles in my arms were starting to bulge as I fought to keep the bucket level. The ache in my arms steadily increased along with the strain. Only five minutes to go. My biceps were now throbbing unmercifully as I shook the sweat from my brow trying desperately to maintain. I could feel my cum starting to drip from my crotch. One minute to go. I started to shake from the maximum effort it took to keep the bucket up. Feeling a sharp pain shoot first through my left nipple, then my right, I sunk to the ground in total exhaustion. My arms felt like lead as I fumbled to unhook the laces from the bucket. I started to cum as soon as I lay back on the ground beneath me. I didn't even have to touch myself as I lay there with my arms at my side through the first two waves of orgasm. What a feeling. To climax without having to finger myself was a new experience for me. I was so pleased with myself, I lay there savoring the experience for over an hour.

I was still feeling satisfied as I got up and brushed myself off. While I was brushing off the bits of debris from my naked form, I thought how great it felt to be nude. I began to think of how much fun I could have being nude all the time. There were a couple of small, secluded lakes in the area where some of the locals would swim or sunbathe nude. If only I wasn't so damn modest. I really needed to work on that problem. I really was proud of the way I looked in the nude so I was confused by my abject fear of being seen that way. I continued to think about this while I drank some water and ate half of a sandwich.

My prediction of a hot day had been right on. With the sun near the top of it's daily arc, and the humidity already high, even the thick canopy of leaves offered little relief from the stifling heat. It was about another hour to the old pump house so I drank most of the water I had knowing I could refill my jug there. I needed to plan my next orgasm so that I would be at the pump house where I would have access to water to clean myself up. Especially if I juiced myself up like I did here. If this first portion of my ordeal was any indication, I figured I would carry the bucket for thirty minutes, then rest for another thirty. That should make the last thirty minutes a real challenge. Just to keep everything the same, I threw a couple of rocks in my bag to compensate for the weight of the water I'd consumed. As I reattached myself to the bucket, I kept thinking how turned on this new type of torment was making me. I was still feeling the effects of my last orgasm and it wouldn't take much to bring on another.

Even at my currant age of twenty four, I don't fully understand why subjecting myself to intense pain and suffering results in such an unreal state of sexual arousal. Although I still give myself some fireworks and stars climaxes, recalling these memories as I write this tale remind me of how much more gratifying it seemed as a teenager. I really believe the added excitement of truly testing my limits with each new ordeal I tried made the difference. I never really knew if I could endure each new challenge until it was over.

I believe it's time to take another break as I seem to have taken to rambling on and on and on. I will however continue at my earliest opportunity as I had many wonderful pleasures, a few surprises, and found I could withstand much more than I thought possible before that day was over, and I do want to tell you all about it.