BDSM Library - Diary of Carolyn

Chapter 1

My name is Carolyn James. I am presently twenty-four years of age. What follows is a compilation of my personal diary from the age of thirteen to about age nine-teen. It is a fairly detailed description of my experiences in self imposed bondage and personal pain infliction. I am certain there are others who participate in this type of sexual deviance (deviance meaning only different) therefore I sincerely hope they enjoy this personal account of my pains and pleasures. For those who think me to be crazy, evil, or just plain out of my mind, be careful to keep concealed whatever secret fantasies you have (we all have them) otherwise you might really screw up and cause yourself some real pleasure.

I was born in the town of Hammond in the mid western state of Indiana. My parents were average middle class rural American people with enough income to live a very comfortable life. I was also an only child due to complications at my birth leaving my mother unable to conceive any more children. Although it would have been nice to grow up with another brother or sister, being an only child did have it's advantages. Actually, when I think back over my childhood, my mother was most affected by her unfortunate sterility. I didn't see it when I was young but she had few friends and spent much of her time either reading or doing house work or fiddling with this or that to occupy her time. Although she in no way abused or mistreated me, I've always felt she somehow blamed me for her inability to conceive another child.

My father worked as a farm implement salesman. This, however, kept him away from home much of the time due to the great distances he had to travel servicing the various farms in Indiana and Illinois. He was almost always home on the weekends but in general would only pop in one night during the week and that would be only to catch a few hours of much needed sleep. Of course, not knowing how my mother was before I was born, and however introverted she had become, my father was just the opposite. He always seemed full of energy and it is difficult for me to recall a time when he wasn't smiling or laughing or telling stupid salesman and the farmer's daughter jokes. It is only recently I've come to realize how much I missed him as a child.

I had always been skinny as a child. Not what you would call undernourished, but until I was about fourteen I guess I did resemble a proverbial fence post. Actually it was during my thirteenth year that I started to develop in many ways. My breasts began to emerge along with the first signs of pubic hair at the top of my vaginal slit. I gained a little weight, that is, at least by the time I was fourteen my elbows and knees no longer looked larger than the limbs they were joined to. I also began my monthly period which scared the hell out of me as no one had thought to inform me about this little part of puberty. Well, as I'm sure you realize, I survived this momentous event, and after a few frantic moments of believing I would surely bleed to death, my mother managed to explain the facts to me. I learned very little about the facts of life from my mother. She never was good at talking about anything sexual, consequently, most all my sexual education I had to gain for myself.

Having to learn about your own sexuality by yourself isn't all bad. Although perhaps somewhat frustrating, having no particular guidance or encouragement, I was able to experiment in many ways not open to most pubescent teens. Also, by not having the normal puritanical fears instilled in my brain, if it felt good to me, I could do it without all of those false guilt getting in the way of my sexual fulfillment. Consequently, after some initial blind experimentation, I was able to achieve some of the most fantastic orgasms possible with solo sexual stimulus.

I spent most of my fourteenth year satisfying myself with normal masturbation using only different positions to break the monotony. I dated a few boys that I went to school with and even had intercourse several times. But the boys were so damn awkward that I would have to masturbate when they were finished to get myself off. This practice, unfortunately, did little to support their fragile egos and I found it increasingly difficult to find dates.

By the time I was fifteen my puberty was mostly a memory. My breasts had developed to a somewhat small but very firm size with two perfect eraser type nipples surrounded by quarter sized aureole. I still had rather small boyish hips but with my long legs and slender frame I felt that I looked OK anyway. Besides, what had started as a little tuft of pubic hair, had since blossomed into a perfect triangle of carpet thick hair that protruded a good three inches out from my flat abdomen and completely covered my vagina. Anyone doubting my maturity would think otherwise if they ever saw me bottomless.

Finding pain to be a sexual aphrodisiac happened quite accidentally. With my father away on business for most of the time, and my mother normally engrossed in her own interests, I could lock the door to my room and do whatever pleased me without fear of being disturbed. I'm not exactly sure why, but one evening I had masturbated for nearly half an hour and could not reach a climax. I became frustrated with myself and actually a bit angry. As I continued rubbing my clitoris, and out of frustration, I pinched my nipple as hard as I could sending a great amount of pain through my breast. To my amazement I immediately began to climax.

My climax lasted much longer than usual and was considerably more intense. When it was over I actually lay back panting from the experience. After a few moments I started to play with my nipples again. Still feeling the effects of my previous orgasm, my nipples became hard and erect almost immediately. As I lay upon my bed working my nipples between my fingers, I found that if I alternately squeezed them to the point of pain, my vagina would tingle and I would feel another orgasm building from the nipple stimulation alone. I achieved orgasm three more times that night before falling asleep exhausted from this most pleasing ordeal.

As it happened, the next day was a school holiday. I awoke around sunrise mostly from habit but also from an incredible wet dream I was having. I cannot count the number of times I have climaxed from my first until last night but I can tell you that none were as fantastic as my last four. As I climbed out of bed, my arm brushed across my nipples causing me to jump. I figured I must have really gotten carried away during my orgasms judging by the tenderness of my nipples. Anyway, I made my way to the bathroom, took a long hot shower, slipped on my bathrobe and went downstairs for breakfast.

As usual, my mother was still asleep. She rarely got up before noon except for when my dad was home. Actually, it suited me fine as my mother and I had little in common anyway. I noticed that I was becoming a little excited as my robe brushed over my tender nipples as I went about fixing breakfast. I ate my breakfast quickly. I wanted to get back to my room and see if I could manage a repeat performance of last night. It's always fun to experiment with any new found turn on.

Once back in my room, I locked the door and removed my bathrobe. I then stood in front of my full length mirror and studied my maturing fifteen year old body. I turned sideways and back carefully inspecting every part of myself I could get into view. I had pretty much already decided I wasn't a raving beauty but all in all I was no dog either. I stood only about five foot four but my one hundred five pounds was well distributed and I did have long legs. I ran my hands slowly around by breasts and sucked in my already flat stomach as I rested my hands on my hips. All in all, I was satisfied with the way I looked.

While still looking at myself in the mirror, I started to run my fingers through my pubic hair. I liked the fact that it was so soft and thick as I rubbed back and forth touching my clit every now and then. I thought to myself as I rubbed, I may not have the biggest tits of the other girls my age at school, but having seen all of them naked in the locker room at one time or another, I definitely had the prettiest crotch. My hair grew in a perfect triangle. It didn't straggle above the hair line or down my thighs. It just started thick and grew the same all the way to my ass hole. To this day I could never understand why a woman would shave or trim their pubic region to look like a little girl considering that when we were little girls how we prayed for the hair to grow so we would look like women.

I had passed my sixteenth birthday before I had done much other than pinching my own nipples. This was partly due to having found a boy friend who was able to actually pay attention to my needs before completely filling his. We had a wonderful time together, and I believe we were in love. At least as much in love as any two people our age could be. I know without any doubt it broke my heart when his father changed jobs and he had to move away. I think that feeling of complete and utter despair, having lost someone I loved, gave me my first insight into how my mother must have felt over the years. However, after a couple of weeks of moping around and feeling depressed, the beautiful summer weather overtook my sadness and I returned to being normal. As long as you consider alone normal. You do, don't you? Don't bother to answer, I'm sure you do.

My father may have worked selling farm equipment, but the only things a farm and our house had in common were that it was two miles to our nearest neighbor and we had about ten acres of thick woods behind us. Don't misunderstand me, there were no packs of wild animals roving around or anything. It may have been rural but it wasn't the sticks. No hillbillies either. I'm sure if it had been my desire, and if I could have figured a way, I could have lured the entire town here one by one, then killed and buried them without a trace. I must put that thought out of my mind. In case I hadn't mentioned, I still live here.

During my sixteenth year while on summer vacation from high school is when I progressed to some pretty bizarre shit. At least it was in my view at the time. I acquired a great fascination for the local hardware store that summer. I still wonder today if the store clerk ever had a clue what a sixteen year old girl was doing with all those clips, little chains, lead plum bobs, and other assorted items she purchased from him.

I would try to be up just after sunrise in the morning on days when I was going to go on one of my escapades. I would gather whatever gadgets I intended to use that day and put them in a small duffel bag. I would usually put on only a sweat shirt and shorts as once I was out of sight in the woods, I would spend the rest of the day naked. Once I was just past the woods edge, I would remove whatever clothes I had on and leave them under some leaves by this old tree. I left my clothes there for a reason. Somehow it added to the level of excitement, being totally naked in the woods and not having any choice in the matter unless I could get back to my clothes. As I normally went a couple of miles deeper into the woods, you can see the problem if I accidentally ran into other people who may also be poking around the woods.

The following account is of one particular autumn day just before I was to start my junior year of high school. If there ever was a day when Murphy's Law ruled, this was it. Although if it could possibly fuck up, it would fuck up, but it was also the most wonderful, the most scary, and the most sexually satisfying day of that entire summer. I am going to do my best to describe the whole days experience in as much detail as possible.

It was around six thirty in the morning when I arrived at the tree where I deposited my clothing to be retrieved at the end of the day when I returned. I covered my small bundle with leaves the same as I had done every other time. The first thing I began to feel after donning my birthday suit, was cold. Summer nights in Indiana seldom drop below sixty degrees but a cold front must have passed through during the night. I don't know exactly what the temperature was, but it was cold enough to bring millions of tiny goose bumps to my bare skin and set my teeth to chattering constantly. Oh well, the sun was already above the horizon, it would start to warm up in an hour or so, I figured I could take it that long anyway.

I had planned this day to begin by putting two metal adjustable serrated clamps on each nipple. This I did before beginning my trek deeper into the woods. I tightened each clamp until the pain was close to my limit of endurance. I knew from experience the pain would subside after a while and I would need to keep tightening them at intervals to maintain the level of pain I desired. I then proceeded to walk on deeper into the woods listening carefully for the sounds of any others who might also be in the woods. I did not want to be surprised by some lost camping family and have to explain what I was doing completely nude with metal clamps hanging from my nipples. I mean, they may not understand.

I had walked for about an hour when I stopped by this big rock I had been to several times before. It wasn't until I stopped that I realized it wasn't warming up very much. While I had been walking, the pain in my nipples compounded by the bouncing of the heavy clamps, had kept my mind off the temperature. I re tightened my nipple clamps a little and quickly the level of pain shot back up to where I drew a sharp breath. Although I was shivering enough that if I tried to speak the words came out in a staccato that would have been hard to understand, between that and the pain racing through my tits, I could feel an orgasm building rapidly. This I did not want. I knew from experience that one huge climax was better than a bunch of little ones and I had vowed I was going to push myself to my limit of endurance and fully expected to have an orgasm that would melt me down into a smoldering mass, if that were possible.

I was beginning to wish I had brought my clothes along this time. Who would have figured on a cold snap in the first week of September anyway? And to top it all off, the sky had clouded over and I could barely see the sun. I thought about calling off my plans, but this would be the last weekday I would be out of school for a long time. My father was home on weekends and if I waited until my next weekday opportunity, it would sure as hell be colder than this. Having thought it all over, and since I had come this far anyway, and in spite of all my discomfort, I really was having a good time.

I was about another hours walk to the old pump house where I had planned to end the second leg of my ordeal. Deciding it was time to up the stakes, so to speak, I chose to add weights to my nipple clamps. I withdrew two sixteen ounce lead plum bobs from my duffel and attached two twelve inch pieces of shoe lace, one to each one pound weight. I then tied the free ends to my clamps.

With everything ready, I spent a few moments mentally preparing myself for the sharp increase in pain I knew two pounds of weight hanging from my tender nipples would undoubtedly cause. The first time I let go of the weights I had to grab them again after about thirty seconds as the pain was more than I could handle. I almost grabbed them on my second attempt, but absolutely forced myself to leave them hanging as I gathered up the duffel bag. Believe me, at this point I was in sheer agony. As I started walking, I found it impossible to prevent the weights from swinging and banging into each other as I walked along. It was sort of weird though. I was so cold I was covered with goose bumps but at the same time I could feel beads of sweat forming on my forehead.

I wasn't making very good progress. Every time the weights would hit each other it would send daggers of pain all throughout my chest. And each time I would have to stop for a few seconds while the pain eased up enough for me to be able to stand it the next time the weights banged each other. And that was about every fourth step. Another problem that I was having was I could feel the clamps slowly slipping from my nipples. The thought of having to tighten them more brought a feeling of fear to the pit of my stomach.

Fear or no fear, I knew what I had to do. This entire ordeal, between the pain, the cold, and my uncertainty if I could stand it all, had me so unbelievably horny I wasn't about to quit now. I gritted my chattering teeth and tightened each clamp until I actually cried out from the agony that engulfed me. The pain was so intense I nearly lost control of my bladder. I reached down to cover my pee hole when I felt my urine start to drip but the feeling that shot through my vagina from just the touch of my finger drove me to brink of orgasm. Tears were running down my cheeks as I started walking but the thought of the mega orgasm I knew I would have if only I could make it to the pump house kept me going.

The cloud cover started to burn off shortly after I started walking again and the sun, now fairly high in the sky, began to quickly take the chill from the air. By now it was probably about ten o'clock and for the first time in three and a half hours I had stopped shivering. The warm autumn sun felt good on my naked skin. I still wasn't making very good time although the pain in my nipples and breasts had become slightly more tolerable. Even though I had only gone about one fourth of the way to the pump house, I needed to stop and rest. The combination of the intense pain and the extra exertion required to walk while trying to control the motion of the swinging weights was taking its toll.

I carefully eased myself down next to an old log and then lay back letting the two lead weights fall to the ground on either side taking the strain off my throbbing tits. The air had really warmed up a lot. In fact, it was starting to actually get hot. Most of the pain had subsided and it felt really good laying in the warm sun. I considered removing the clamps from my nipples but from experience I knew after the circulation had returned, they would be far to sore for me to put them back on. So I just closed my eyes and ran my fingers through my bush teasing myself with thoughts of things to come.

I must have been more exhausted than I realized. The mid afternoon sun bathed my body with it's hot rays filtering down through the leaves as I awoke. A little groggy from my nap I felt panicked thinking I had slept away the whole day. After a couple of minutes I regained my bearings and by the position of the sun I knew it was only about two in the afternoon. I had napped longer than I had wanted to, but I figured I could still make the pump house and still get home by dark.

Having rested, my excitement again began to build. As I got myself to my feet, and the weights brought the fire like pain back to my breasts, I began to fantasize that I was prisoner being forced to make this trek through the woods. I imagined that when I had refused to give my imaginary captors the information they wanted, I had been stripped naked and marched through the woods with my nipples under torture. As I walked along becoming more absorbed in my fantasy, I imagined since I had come this far without breaking, that my captors must intend to increase my torture by now. My tits hurt like hell, but I was getting so excited by my little fantasy, I started to think of ways to make my pain worse.

I had two more sixteen ounce weights in my duffel along with some more clips and shoe lace. I didn't think by the looks of my nipples that they could stand any more weights attached without causing some permanent damage, so, I began to consider some other possibilities. With my limited inventory of devices, I imagined my captors had decided to torture my pussy for the rest of the way. I stopped and dug the weights and laces out of my bag and attached the clamps to my pussy lips just below my clitoris as I squatted on the forest floor. I tightened the clamps until my eyes started to water from the pain, then, thinking my imaginary captors wouldn't be so kind, I gave each one another half turn more.

If I had so much as touched my clit I would have orgasmed uncontrollably. My bladder was also full and thought about relieving myself while I was squatted down but going back to my fantasy, my captors wouldn't allow me to piss, they're trying to make me talk, they want me to suffer as much as possible knowing if they don't get me to talk before we reach the pump house, they will have failed. Slowly I stood up. Totally engrossed in my fantasy, I told myself I wouldn't satisfy my captors by crying out, but when my labia lifted two pounds of lead from the ground, I could not keep the scream that followed from echoing through the woods fantasy or not. Every exhale of breath brought at least a loud moan from my lips as forced myself on through the woods with four pounds of lead weights swinging to and fro supported only by some of the most tender and sensitive parts of my body. The morning cold had turned into a typical ninety degree autumn Indiana day.

My body glistened in the afternoon sun from the sweat coming from every pore. My mind moved from fantasy to reality and back as I endured the mind numbing pain. Just as I thought I couldn't possibly stand it any longer, the old pump house came into view. I mustered every ounce of determination I had. I screamed with every heaving breath as I went the final steps. Ha ha, I made it.

I sunk to my knees next to the pump house, breathing heavily as the perspiration dripped from every part of me. Supporting myself against the wall with my left hand, I eased my other down through my sweat matted pubic hair and flicked my clitoris only once when the first wave of orgasm exploded through me. I buried my middle finger deep into my vagina while rubbing my swollen clit with my thumb bringing on a second and more powerful orgasm that nearly caused me to pass out. No longer able to control my bladder, the warm piss sprayed onto my hand as I continued jerking myself off. I can't begin to tell you how many times I climaxed, but when it was finally over, my body was nothing but a sweat soaked, shuddering mass of exhausted flesh curled up on the forest floor. It was at least half an hour before I regained enough strength to remove my clamps and weights.

I went inside and pumped some cool water from the old well. Placing myself under the pump spout I let the cool water run all over me. The cool water felt so good. My legs were still shaking from the post orgasmic state I was in. I just stood there, massaging my sore nipples and pussy with the cool water until I realized how much time had passed. I took one last drink of water and went back outside. The sun was now low in the western sky. Feeling a bit of panic knowing I had spent way to much time here I gathered my little devices into my duffel. I checked around to make sure nothing was forgotten, and started back the way I came.

The sun was setting rapidly and I cursed myself for wasting so much of the day asleep. I was also upset that I hadn't been more prepared, I mean, I didn't even bring a flashlight, and at this time of year when the sum went down it got very dark very quickly. It also got very cold. I wasn't unfamiliar with the woods as I had made this trip before. It's just that I had never done it at night. Maybe if I was lucky there would be a full moon.

It didn't seem I had traveled very far before the nights darkness had engulfed the forest. Although there was still a faint glow to the sky, it was almost completely dark where I was and becoming hard to see much of anything. It was also becoming quite cold and I started to shiver as I poked my way along trying not to stumble over objects in my path. As I moved along trying to put my mind on something other than the cold seeping into my nude body, another foreboding thought occurred to me. I was pretty certain I could find my way home or at least in the general area, but what if I couldn't find the tree where I had left my clothes? I was sure that my father would already be home before me and, being Friday night, he would have four or five of his buddies with him to play cards. I knew they always played out on the back porch so there was no way I could sneak into the house unnoticed.

My mind jumped back to reality as a sharp twig waiting unseen in the darkness snapped across my bruised nipples bringing a quick yelp to my lips. Damn, I said to myself as I stopped and cupped my hands over my stinging tits in a vain attempt to comfort them. I couldn't remember my nipples ever being this tender before. But, I thought, I couldn't remember ever experiencing the volcanic like orgasms I had happily enjoyed today. I guess the more the play, the more the pay.

The moon came up early but was not anywhere near the full moon I had hoped for. However the faint slivers of light that did filter down provided enough illumination to keep me from running into trees head on. The temperature had really took a dive after sunset and I was really starting to feel it. To make things worse, an intermittent breeze had come up and when it blew over my naked skin it took my breath away. At least my sense of direction was good this far as I caught sight of the big rock that marked the half way point.

I crouched down on the leeward side of the rock and blew into my hands trying desperately to fight off the cold. The wind was more steady now from the north east and it stung my nude body something awful. I'm not sure just how long I stayed at the rock but I finally forced myself to get started on the last leg home. I gave myself credit for at least being smart enough to have worn my sneakers considering I had entertained the thought of going barefoot this morning. My hands got so cold I had to stick them down into my bush and try to warm them about every five minutes or so as I tramped along through the dry leaves making weird crunching sounds with each footstep. I don't think there was ever a time, before or since, that I have been so completely cold as I was that night. I was really beginning to wonder if all this would end with my frozen lifeless body being discovered in the morning laying naked on the forest floor.

My thoughts of impending doom vanished as I stopped dead in my tracks. Looking around, I suddenly realized I was no longer in the woods. I was standing in an open field with the edge of the woods about one hundred yards behind me. Although I was totally alone, I had this weird feeling of self consciousness as I sneaked back to the cover of the woods. I tried to squat down and get my bearings but I was shivering so badly I lost balance and fell on my side. I again cursed myself for getting in to this predicament as I got back up brushing leaves and twigs away that had stuck to me when I fell over. I knew I would have to venture out into the open field far enough to know exactly where I had exited the woods if I had any hope of finding my clothes. Even though I realized the possibility of anyone being within a mile of me was slim to none, I gingerly crept through the open field thinking how the tongues would wag when telling about the local teenage girl found stark naked hiding in a field.

As I crept to the top of a small knoll I almost shouted with joy seeing my house only a few hundred yards in front of me. Even though I could see my father and his buddies right where I knew they would be playing cards, it took every bit of will I had to keep from bolting buck naked past them and into that nice warm house. Now that I knew where I was, and cold to the point of actual pain, I ran back towards the point in the edge of the woods where I left my clothes that morning. Fortunately my memory was accurate and I located my sweat shirt and shorts easily. Putting them on was a bit more difficult. All that running through the dew covered grass had gotten me wet and with the cold breeze my body shivered and jerked as I fought to get my limbs into the right holes. After a few tries, I succeeded with my task and took off on a dead run for home. As I reached the back door, I concentrated on trying to stop shivering and act normal as I stepped onto the porch. What happened next really pissed me off. My dad and all his friends greeted me without ever looking up. I may as well have been naked! Later I actually considered stripping and going out to see if they would notice. I thought not.

I believe I will finish this tale at a later date. I still have several more experiences I would like to write about. Although this portion of my diary you have just read contains some really wonderful memories, I remember at least a couple more that made these pale in comparison. To be honest, writing what I have so far, has gotten me so horny I really must take a break. I will, however, continue my story at my first opportunity.

DIARY OF CAROLYN

Chapter Two

Skull Duggery

This is a work of fiction.

It took several days for me to completely recover from my last little escapade. I was sure, well, pretty sure none of my classmates noticed my slightly bow legged walk or my lack of a brassier the first few days of school that fall. At least no one mentioned it. I was also relieved to learn due to some scheduling problems, I wasn't assigned any gym classes for the first two weeks. My bruised labia might have gone unnoticed due to my ample bush but I could in no way hide my severely discolored and bruised nipples. At my young age, I was still amazed how so much pain could result in so much pleasure. I mean, even the discomfort I was feeling now excited me.

As the school days turned into school weeks, and the fall to winter, the first snowfall brought welcomed relief from my monotonous schedule. Hardly a day had passed since my end summer experience at the old pump house that I didn't think of that most fantastic orgasm and wishing for more. I had imagined myself many times since in similar situations but with school and all, could not make an opportunity to do so. In addition, I knew a large part of my excitement was being naked and vulnerable out of doors but the sub freezing winter temperatures virtually made that an impossibility. I did however make an attempt during Christmas vacation, but, as I will explain, the results were less than I had hoped for.

My opportunity presented itself two days before Christmas. Both of my parents left to spend the day dropping off gifts and visiting several friends in the area. They indicated they would be home very late and didn't seem to mind when I declined to go along. I quickly began to formulate a plan. Although it was a bright sunny day, the temperature was only supposed to reach about twenty degrees. I probably wouldn't have even attempted this but my last trip to the pump house had spoiled me and I was desperate for another wildly fantastic orgasm. I could usually bring myself to a climax by various indoor means, but without that added excitement and vulnerability of being nude in the wide open spaces, there was just nothing super special about it.

The winter so far had been cold but with less than normal snowfall. Considering the snow cover was only about six or eight inches deep I put on a pair of fur lined boots that ended two or three inches below my knees. I then tried to decide what clothes I should start out with. However, with my excitement building with anticipation of the ordeal, I opted to wear only my three quarter length parka. Just the thought of being completely naked under the parka started me tingling. Oh, I should mention on one of my trips to the local hardware supply, I found some self locking clamps that tightened themselves in relation to the amount of pulling tension applied to them. I don't know if you have ever had a clamp slip off your nipple when you weren't expecting it, but it brings on an instant reality check. I could load these little babies down until my screams echoed from the walls and they would stay attached. Excuse me, I got myself a little excited. I'll get back to the story now.

Having gathered my things together, I proceeded to walk across the field to the edge of the woods. The cold air stung my legs in the uncovered gap between where my coat ended and the boots began. There wasn't much for cover in the woods this time of year, so I had to walk in a hundred yards or so before I was comfortable that I couldn't be seen. I may have been crazy, but I never was much of an exhibitionist. Even though I was tingling with anticipation, it took a few minutes to get courage enough to shed my coat and expose my nudity to the winter air. Being determined to continue, I took one last look around to be sure I was alone, then let my coat fall to the ground.

To my surprise, it wasn't nearly as bad as I had imagined. Fortunately it was a still day with only a barely perceptible occasional breeze. My plan this day was only to go as far as the big rock. Having lived in this climate for only a month short of seventeen years, I knew I could not last for more than two hours maximum at this temperature and it was an hour each way to the rock. I had been waiting for months to do this and my excited mind moved quickly into fantasy land.

It's strange how the mind often tailors it's fantasy to the situation you're in. Although I was an only child, I began to fantasize I was being punished by my two older sisters for some minor indiscretion that displeased them. I imagined them vowing I would never forget the pain and suffering they were about to inflict on me. Knowing that my time was limited I had already attached my new clamps to my sixteen ounce weights and had brought along four additional one pounders for good measure. For some reason, my threshold for pain had increased and I wanted to assure myself of a gigantic orgasm. Squatting down resting the first two weights in the snow, I attached a clamp to each nipple, imagining my siblings were forcing me to install my own implements of torture. I then did the same on each side of my clitoris being sure to get a good grip on the sensitive flesh. I couldn't resist running my cold finger up and down my moist slit. I had to force myself to stop. I was so close to climax I didn't dare move for fear it would send me over the top and I hadn't waited this long for it to end in the first fifteen minutes.

As soon as I was back under control, I drifted back to my fantasy imagining my taunting punishers, all warmly clothed, pleased with themselves watching this poor naked teenager struggle in the biting cold trying to lift four pounds of lead with her most sensitive flesh. I then rose to my feet as the clamps bit deeply pulling hard as I started to walk. I was really cold but for some reason, not shivering. Maybe because of the low humidity. At any rate, I felt the need to increase my self torture. I stopped when I was near the half way point to the big rock. I was most definitely very cold and the swinging weights caused me considerable pain, so the uncertainty of my being able to go the next half hour with double the weight excited me even more. As I squatted down I thought how displeased my evil sisters must be that I have endured this well. They vow to make the next part of my lesson sheer agony.

I attached four more sixteen ounce weights to the four already in place. I really had no idea if I could even manage to endure getting this much weight off the ground, much less stand it for thirty minutes. I gathered all my strength and rose to my feet. It felt as if my flesh would tear from my bones. I some how kept from crying out, but the pain was so intense, I started to feel a little light headed for a few moments. Oh ,how pleased my sadistic sisters must be. They have to know how much I hurt. It took every ounce of determination I possessed to begin walking again. I could only feel the unrelenting pain burning it's way through my groin. I could not see my labia but it felt like it was stretched past my knees. But I knew that wasn't possible. Or was it?

I'm not sure if it was the cold, or just that I had been looking forward to the mind numbing orgasm I knew was soon to come for so long, but somehow I withstood the most intense and searing pain I had yet to subjected myself to. I had also been victorious over my imaginary evil minded sadistic sisters by never allowing myself to cry out from my agony. As I reached that big rock I dropped to all fours in the snow. As I rubbed my palm back and forth through my crotch letting one finger find it's way to my clit I could feel myself on the brink of ecstasy. It was at that point, seconds before I would have screamed in orgasmic pleasure, that I heard it. Voices.

They didn't sound very close but the fact I wasn't alone in the woods put me into a panic. I removed the clamps as quickly as I could and stuffed them into my duffel bag. The woods offered much less cover with the trees bare of leaves. Frantically I huddled by the cold rock looking and listening for any clue as to where my intruders were. With all traces of fantasy or fun now gone from my thoughts, the reality of how bone chilling cold it was began to sink in. My teeth began to chatter uncontrollably as I crouched in the icy snow listening for a sound. My panic increased as I began to think maybe they heard my chattering teeth and knew where I was. The noise from my teeth probably couldn't be heard more than two feet, but at the time they sounded like jack hammers to me.

After about another ten minutes I knew I would have to do something. I knew if just stayed where I was I would freeze to death or at least end up frostbitten. I hadn't heard any more voices so I carefully moved around the rock keeping a sharp eye out for anything that moved. Nothing. I began to wonder if I had just imagined hearing voices. One more trip around the rock. Nothing. Something felt funny in my crotch. One quick look and feel made my mind up for me. Voices or no voices, I had to get back to my jacket and home. Take my word, when your pubic hair is frozen together with cum juice, it's time to go.

I picked up my duffel bag, took one last look in every direction, then took off on a dead run towards home. The cold air made my lungs ache but I kept running anyway. When I finally reached my starting point, I grabbed my much welcomed parka, put it on and collapsed in heaving exhaustion. What had took me an hour to walk, I had run in less than fifteen minutes.

I'm not sure how long I lay there before I regained enough strength to go the rest of the way home but I was still half out of breath as I got to my house. I immediately drew a hot bath, then eased my tired freezing body into the tub. The warm water felt so good, I soon drifted into an exhausted slumber.

It was late in the afternoon when I finally awoke and dragged myself from my bath. After drying off I flopped naked on my bed and tried to make some sense of what had happened to me. I was still unsure if the voices I heard were real or imaginary, and if they weren't real, I fucked myself out an orgasm I'd waited months for. This, however was something I'd never know. End result? Fucked up.

The rest of that winter was pretty much uneventful with the possible exception of my seventeenth birthday. I did get laid by a very good looking senior football player. The guy was super popular and had just about every girl in school hot after him. I was actually surprised at the time to get a date with him. Don't think I'm putting myself down or anything, I mean, I'm no Cheryl Tiegs then or now, but I figure I'm at least a good strong eight in the looks department and if you're into slim hard bodied girls with small tits and long hard nipples(I wonder what caused that?) and a nice thick bush to bury your face in, I'm definitely a ten.

I won't go into great detail about this date as there was only this one with the football jock. Please understand, I had a great time and if you're fond of five minute fucks, and then hearing all the blow by blow details of your sexual experience being discussed by people you don't even know, his name was Steve Greene.

Once again I must attend to other matters. I will continue to recount some of my more memorable experiences as soon as possible.

DIARY OF CAROLYN

Chapter Three

Skull Duggery

This is a work of fiction

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

DIARY OF CAROLYN

Chapter Four

Skull Duggery

This is a work of fiction

I apologize for pausing my story in the middle of my adventure. Unfortunately circumstances were beyond my control. The Outer Limits came on the TV so I'm sure you understand. However, I will now pick up where I left off.

Before I continue, a bit of technobabble. If anyone is having a problem with the format of these text files I'm posting, post a reply and let me know what your problem is. I do all my writing with a Leading Edge word processor, vintage 1983. That is not a typo. This program came with my first 8086 PC that had a whopping ten megabyte hard drive. I couldn't imagine filling that monster up back then, but today I'm running a 1.5 gig that's half full. It blows my mind to think about it. At any rate, I can convert to .doc,.wri,zip,.txt, or even post the Leading Edge style >DOC files. Anyone who has ever used one of these old LE word processors knows how versatile it is, and those who haven't, should give it a try. Wow! What a sales pitch. I'm sure the Leading Edge company would give me a great job with an office with a window and a big salary and a fine young sexratary who could be my slave and man oh man what a time I could have if only they hadn't gone bankrupt eight years ago. OK, enough technobabble. I will continue my story tomorrow.

DIARY OF CAROLYN

Chapter Five

Skull Duggery

This is a work of fiction

I was already in a state of arousal as I stood up careful to keep the bucket high enough to keep the strain off my nipples. My excitement began to build even more as the perspiration glistened on my young body. I'm certain the temperature wasn't over eighty five or ninety, but with the humid summer air, it felt much higher. As I diligently trudged along, the oven like atmosphere surrounded me like an invisible blanket. I began to fantasize myself a prisoner of war in some tropical South American country. How foolish I had been allowing myself to be captured by these primitive savages. I had heard about their simple but sadistic methods of torturing female prisoners, and now I was one being marched through the jungle, my naked, sweat covered young body exposed to all. I imagined hearing the soldiers betting among each other how long this girl could last.

Realizing I was nearing where I had planed to rest, I had to decide what I wanted to do. My decision was more difficult than it seems. For one, my fantasy had me extremely turned on, and I wanted to keep it going. Also, as I mentioned before, I wanted to be where the water was after I finished getting myself off. On the other hand, I was almost certain my arms would give out before I reached the pump house. After weighing the alternatives, I changed the rules. Hey, don't look at me like that. I mean, I made them, didn't I, so who has a better right than me to change them? I knew you'd agree.

Having made my decision, I let myself escape back into my fantasy. I imagined my captors, due to an argument between themselves, decided to allow me to rest while they worked it out. I set my bucket on an old log and unhitched the laces. Leaning back against the log, I shook the circulation back into my tired arms. I then started to reach for my water jug to quench my thirst only to remember it was empty. Well, I wasn't really that thirsty. I also knew I was in no danger of dehydrating myself. Strangely enough, although the combination of heat and humidity makes a body sweat profusely, you actually lose less water per period of time than if it were hot and dry.

I closed my eyes to the hot mid day sun as I ran my fingers over my sweat matted pubic hair keeping just far enough from my most sensitive places so as not to trigger a premature orgasm. I began to realize after only a couple of minutes of this, that I wasn't large enough to be far enough from sensitive places and still touch myself. Everywhere I touched my body brought a short breath and a little pleasure spasm to remind me how excited I was. I could actually hear my juices of arousal dripping on the dry leaves beneath me. Only the thought of how much greater my climax would be if I just waited a little longer, kept me from jerking myself into orgasmic haze land right then.

I had only rested about ten minutes but I was anxious to continue with my ordeal. The wiggling of my nipple clamps caused a few sharp pains to shoot into my breasts as I attached my laces to the bucket handles. Although the clamps were not yet excessively tight, after five hours of continuous clamping I had thought I'd be in more pain than I was currently experiencing. Believe me, that would change dramatically before long.

The short rest had brought strength back into my arms, but the hot dead summer air had done little to cool me off. My nude teenage body still glistened with perspiration as I hefted the bucket and began my self imposed ordeal once more. I'm unsure as to why, but I again had that fleeting thought of being happened upon by someone, and picturing myself trying to explain away what I was doing. By the way, it actually happened to me a year or so later, but I'll let the story fill you in when it gets there.

Forced to do a reality check by the previous brain wave, I carefully looked around. Seeing or hearing nothing out of the ordinary, I slipped back to my jungle fantasy land. Imagining the enemy soldiers, having resolved their dispute, were again forcing me to march through the steaming jungle wagering when I would collapse from exhaustion. I became even more aroused as I vowed that I would not give satisfaction to those filthy bastards, be imaginary or not. I thought how in reality, I would make a poor slave. Although I like to fantasize myself a slave, I think I'm far to turned on by defiance to ever be totally submissive. I continued along, my arms beginning to ache from the exertion.

My mind was slipping deeper into my fantasy as I imagined the soldiers having strapped a pole vertically to my back thus preventing me from bending or squatting. In their cruel sadistic minds, they would only be happy when I would finally lose all ability to carry the weight, and I would beg in agony as my nipples were torn from my breasts. Although in reality I would never put myself in a position that could permanently disfigure or seriously injure me, it sure is fun to imagine it.

The pain in my arms was increasing sharply. Knowing from my position it would take at least fifteen more minutes to reach the pump house, I tried to walk a bit faster. It wasn't but a minute or so when I found this to be harder on my arms than walking at a normal pace, so I slowed back down. This is how athletes must feel, I thought to myself noticing how well defined my arm muscles had become from the long exertion. Having been born minus the sports gene, athletics had never interested me, but it now occurred to me athletes probably get their rocks off from the pain the same as me. I was sure I was right. I'll bet they really wear those plastic crotch guards so not to accidentally start playing with themselves in front of all the spectators. Hell, I'm not so different after all.

My imaginary captors were becoming more excited also as I strained with all my will in the tropical heat. The veins in my slender young arms were clearly visible as I fought with every step to keep my increasingly heavy bucket at waist level. The burning ache that filled my arms and shoulders seemed unbearable. I could tell I was rapidly losing my battle of the bucket when I caught sight of the old pump house about three hundred yards ahead. Now, with my goal in sight, I renewed my concentration. As hard as I tried, I just couldn't keep the bucket at my waist. With about a hundred yards to go, I began to whimper. Partly, I think, from exhaustion, but mostly from my downwardly distending nipples doing their best to help support the heavy bucket they were attached to.

I was already well into my second earth shaking orgasm when I reached the pump house. If the pain searing it's way throughout my heaving chest was any indication, my poor nipples must have been supporting all of the buckets gravity seeking weight. There wasn't enough feeling left in my tortured arms for me to tell if they were helping or not as I collapsed onto the ground with my third orgasm, obliterating me to everything else. I felt myself losing control of my bladder as the fourth climax filled my exhausted body with ecstasy. From some subconscious instinct I moved my hand over my crotch only to let my hot piss spray uncontrollably as yet another wonderful orgasm shuddered it's way through me. Engulfed in ecstasy, I rolled onto my back, my nipples, still attached to the bucket, started to bleed as they dragged the heavy bucket as I rolled to my back. I screamed at the top of my lungs as the unimaginable agony tore through every nerve sending me into a final explosive orgasm obliterating all but it's own indescribable pleasure. It seemed the more the pain, the more the climax. Not wanting my orgasmic haze to end, I remained motionless until I could no longer endure the fiery pain from my ravaged breasts.

I had no choice but to remove the clamps from my bleeding nipples. I had not intended to do such severe damage to myself, but still reeling from the absolutely, could not have ever imagined, most wonderfulistic sexual experience of my life, it was worth it. I managed to get my orgasmicly ravaged body into the pump house and drank as much of the cool well water as I could. Although my mind was intent on cleaning my now dirt covered sweat soaked body, my body said, later on, as I fell into a much needed sleep.

I awoke with a momentary attack of panic. I had blissfully dreamed away the entire afternoon and the long shadows of dusk were visible through the pane less pump house window. My panic lasted only until the sandman had left my sleepy brain and returned to wherever sand men go when they return you to reality. Actually, my feeling of panic turned into one of astonishment as I surveyed my dirt and debris covered body. I looked as if I had been away for a month with all the pieces of dead leaves, twigs, and other assorted crapola stuck to every part of my naked body. I pumped some water and as I worked at cleaning myself up, my mind started working on my plans for the night.

Fortunately, I hadn't done any permanent damage to my nipples. Although they were extremely sore, a close inspection after cleaning away the dried blood, revealed the clamps had only cut the flesh, not torn it as I had feared. Either way, I would have no further need of my clamps or weights on this day. In fact, after eating my remaining sandwiches, there was nothing in my duffel bag I could think of a use for, so I decided to leave it and the bucket in the pump house. I had stashed a flashlight in the old pump house on an earlier excursion because of a somewhat unpleasant night time woods experience previously encountered. In all honesty, having forgotten to bring one along again, I was relieved to find this one in working condition. One must be careful when leaving battery powered items in the woods. I know because I saw on TV that rabbits use them too. Fortunately, I had hidden this flashlight well.

The suns evening rays still illuminated the western sky as I closed the door on the old pump house. The cooler evening air felt good as it lightly caressed my bare skin. Very much sexually satisfied from my flood of earlier orgasms, I was now in more of an adventurous mood than anything else. Not that there was any real danger in the woods at night. Most people who are not raised around rural places think wild animals are going to attack them. There's a thousand times better chance you'll win the Irish Sweepstakes twice in a row, than be attacked by a wild animal. Wild animals don't like people. They try every way possible to avoid people. Actually the greatest danger of animal attack is by someone's abandoned house pet.

I guess you could say I was feeling like taking some chances that night. Not anything that could get me hurt or anything mind you. Just some things I had never tried before. I started out towards a public campground located a couple of miles to the northwest on the shore of a small woodland lake. The excitement of my plan brought goose bumps to my naked skin as the shelter of the pump house disappeared behind me.

A nearly full moon was rising early providing enough light that I didn't have to use the flashlight. This I was happy about because I didn't want to draw attention to myself moving stark naked through the trees. Even a flashlight beam can be seen over several miles at night. My plan was to sneak into the public campground and take a swim in the lake, actually pond would be a better word, and back out without being seen. This was really taking me to my limits. If you have been following my tale, you know one of my worst fears is being caught naked, and with nothing but a flashlight for cover, I was very much naked now. Maybe deep inside I wanted to get caught. Perhaps I thought it would cure my unreasonable modesty. You know, I utterly envy anyone who is unafraid to let the world see them nude. After all, what could be closer to total freedom than strolling down main street with your tits bouncing and your pubic hairs blowing in the wind for all to see.

DIARY OF CAROLYN

Chapter Six

Skull Duggery

This is a work of fiction

My heart raced with a combination of excitement and fear as I began to hear the sounds of people as I got closer to the park. It was almost eleven thirty and it hadn't occurred to me that there would be so many people still up and about. I crept carefully closer, trying to keep out of the moonlight as much as possible, when suddenly I heard the sound of children. A big lump began to form in my throat as the children's voices grew louder. I frantically searched for someplace to hide. There was little, if any, underbrush this close to the camp ground that hadn't either been cleared or beaten down by campers. Although the trees were by no means sparse, none were very large, and they had been pruned to seven or eight feet up. I may have been slim, in fact, I'm sure there are some who would have even called me skinny, but I assure you, there just weren't any tree trunks in sight that would have hidden me from prying eyes.

The lump that occupied my throat felt like it would all but choke me to death as the voices began to take the shape of several small children as they became visible in the moonlight. And if that wasn't bad enough, one of the little fuckers was carrying a flashlight, the beam of light darting about as they ran here and there between the trees. Though I was sure they hadn't yet saw me, they kept coming in my direction like they were following some sort of homing beacon. I wondered if Murphy's Law worked as well on the Irish as on the rest of us. As they drew closer and closer, my options were quickly dwindling away. One, I could turn tail and run ever so silently, making no noise for them to hear gliding like a gazelle through the dry leaves and twigs covering the forest floor. Right, I'm sure. Two, I could just stroll on in my birthday suit, walking past them without a care. Not likely. Three, I could just walk up to them and say something intelligent like, hi guys, ever seen a naked lady before? Nah. Considering that sex and nudity were numbers eight and nine of the seven deadly sins in this bible bounced country, that is unless you happen to be the bible bouncer in which case bible bouncing rules don't apply, these sheltered little brats would go screaming back and at best, be traumatized for life. Not to mention the myriad of sex crimes I would be charged with after the innocent little tots were bible bounced into confessing all the torture, rape, abuse, and other sorted evil deeds I perpetrated on them. Bad idea.

I was down to option last. Option last rated only slightly above the others, but as it's name implied, left me no other choice. However, this fact gave me little comfort as I climbed through the sharp branches into the relative safety of the nearest tree. I perched silently, and uncomfortably I might add, as the little group passed beneath me. Finally the lump released it's grip on my throat as the figures again faded into voices as they returned from where they came. Satisfied I was no longer in danger of seeing my face plastered on the Post Office wall under vicious sex criminals, I began to contemplate my decent. You may think me a tad paranoid, and perhaps a bit sarcastic by my thoughts about bible bouncers and sex crimes, but before you pass judgment, think about this. Where but in our great land of the free and home of the brave, can a seventeen year old boy be sent to prison for having consensual intercourse with a seventeen year old girl, and yet Catholic priests are unpunished for having non consensual sex with five and six year old children. Put that in your bible and bounce it.

It may be said that what goes up, must come down. If this is true, why is it always harder to climb down from something than it was going up? For instance, that short branch attempting to enter my vagina gave me no problem on the way up. I did however, with a few added minor abrasions, successfully extricate myself from the tree.

My recent anxiety combined with the physical exertion of playing lumberjack had caused me to moderately perspire. As I squatted beneath the tree contemplating my next move, I began shivering as the night air evaporated the moisture from my unprotected body. The night was by no means cold, but with the humidity still high, even seventy degrees can be chilly to a nudist. I checked the time. Quarter past twelve. Not wanting to repeat the last forty five minutes, I figured I'd wait until one o'clock before continuing towards the lake. I sat with my back to the base of the tree, drew my legs up to my chest, wrapped my arms around them and settled back to wait.

I must have fell asleep because the next thing I remember was being a lot colder than I had been. As I ran my hands over my body trying to get some relief from the chill, I could feel all my normally invisible little body hairs sticking straight out between the sandpaper like goose bumps formed on my exposed flesh. A brief moment of panic cleared my thoughts as I checked my watch. Ten after one. Perfect. Brushing myself off as I got to my feet, I shook off the cold as much as I could before starting for the lake. I don't know much about astronomy, but this was one of those nights when the moon seems to be in the same position in relation to the time as the sun is during the day. It made everything look weird in an eerie sort of way with the moon shadows bringing an almost life like quality to the normally inanimate inhabitants of the forest. With flashlight in hand, I headed for the lake.

It may not seem very challenging to grab a skinny dip in the dead of night, however, this particular site is far from normal. Very few of the inland lakes in this part of the country are what you would call "natural". Most started as either granite or marble quarries that filled with water when the quarrymen finally reached a depth sufficient to release an underground water supply. As a result, most are bordered by sheer rock except for where the original entrance to the quarry was. In my case, the only area accessing the lake, was the camp ground. Unless of course, you were to make a hundred foot dive from the rock wall, in which case you would still have to exit at the camp ground, and undoubtedly someone would hear the splash from your hundred foot dive, and from sheer curiosity be looking for the cause. So you see, not simple.

Except for a few lingering camp fires, there seemed to be no activity as I crept along the edge of the camp area. Keeping low, I eased closer to the water's edge trying to be as silent as possible. So far, so good. Fortunately, due to my level of fear and excitement, my shivering had stopped making it easier to avoid detection. Other than an occasional cough or grunt from a sleeping camper, and the gentle lapping of the lake water on the shore, all was quiet.

I made my way to the point where the shore and rock wall met at the water's edge. I quickly stashed my flashlight by the rock wall as I was easily visible in the bright moonlight if anyone happened to look my way. With the fear of detection foremost in my mind, I quickly slipped into the icy quarry lake. Quarry lakes are famous, or infamous depending on your point of view, for their nearly constant fifty two degree water. As a result, the shock from being suddenly immersed naked forced an uncontrollable yelp from my lips as the icy water took my breath away. Another unique thing about quarry lakes, is their short beaches. So only about fifty feet from shore, I became too busy treading water while trying to recover from the initial shock of the cold water to notice much of anything else.

Being tossed naked from an iceberg in the Arctic Ocean would have been less of a shock than what happened next. As my body adjusted to the cold water, I was able to breath more normally. I also became aware of some sort of activity in the camp ground. Unsure of what was actually going on, I swam quietly to spot by the rock wall about three hundred feet from shore where I could still see the entire camp but was myself pretty well hidden from view. Finding a hand hold at near water level, I tried to figure out what was happening on shore.

That familiar lump began invading my throat again as I could see one, then two, three, then several flashlight beams darting around the camp ground. I held my watch to the moonlight. It was two o'clock. Damn, what the hell are those people doing?

The beams of bouncing light started coming towards the lake. What the fuck is happening? I thought to myself as I swam further down the rock face. It looked as if the entire camp was up now. They were now shinning their lights out onto the lake. They're looking for me. That can't be. I was sure no one had seen me. I tried to hear what they were saying but my brain was starting to get cloudy as the icy water took it's toll on me. I slowly moved closer, staying close to the rock wall. I was starting to get really scared. It was getting more difficult to move my arms and legs as my body edged closer to hypothermia. Finally I could hear one understandable voice over the excited mob scurrying aimlessly around the camp.

She was hollering something about loosing her kid. Son of a bitch, they were looking for a lost kid. As my mind assembled the facts, I started to become nauseated from the panic and fear this realization brought. And what made me feel even worse, it had been my own yelp when entering the water, that had got someone's attention. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I eased along the sheer rock toward the mob of hysterical fools lining the water's edge. By now the only choices I had left were either to stay put and die from hypothermia, or get to the beach and die from humiliation. Believe it or not, I was having trouble reaching a decision.

Stay of execution. You heard right, Murphy granted me a stay of execution. I take back everything I have ever said bad about that hard headed, trouble causing, arrogant Irishman, shit, I mean kind hearted and helpful arrogant Irishman. Only moments before my fate was to be sealed, the kid they thought was drowned in the lake, they found wandering around right along with them. They then started thanking God and they all hugged the half asleep little boy as if he had just been pulled from the fires of hell. At least that's what it looked like. Personally, I hope they were thanking God for delivering them from stupidity. Maybe next time it would occur to look in the kid's bed before booking passage on the cruise to mass hysteria. Still, I thought, that's a tall order even for a God. Perhaps if they offered a human sacrifice? Nah.

For me however, it was still not an ideal situation. It looked as though everyone had retired to their various tents and RV's, but they were certainly still awake, and would be much longer than I could stay in the water. I needed to exit this lake right now. My arms and legs had long since become numb and though I knew I was still moving them as I reached the waters edge, I couldn't feel a thing.

Keeping very low and quiet, I crept onto the beach at the same place I had entered. I was rather surprised at finding my flashlight right where I left it. I thought sure someone would have at least found that in their frantic search. Carefully, I made my way back to the safety of the woods.

The feeling started returning to my extremities before I had gone very far. And along with the feeling, came the inevitable violent convulsions suffered by anyone whose core body temperature has ever gotten as low as mine was. This however, was a new experience for me. Actually, referring to my next hour as an experience, would have been like referring to Hiroshima as a fireworks display. Unless you have ever had the ill fate of having become hypothermic, your wildest nightmares are pale in comparison to what I am about to describe. In all my self imposed or otherwise tortures and ordeals, before or since, were no worse than removing a splinter compared to what I suffered that night. Did I say violent convulsions? Violent does not begin to describe hypothermic convulsions. First, I'll give you a few simple facts to help you understand what happens. One, normal body temperature, as I'm sure you already know, is ninety eight point six degrees. Two, the most energy consuming task your body has is to maintain that temperature. Three, muscles produce heat. The harder they work, the more the heat they produce. Four, the more the body tries to rise above it's normal temperature, the more you sweat so that the effect of evaporative cooling will keep the temperature normal. In fact, only a two or three degree rise will make you sweat bullets.

Keep in mind, more muscles, more heat. When your body temperature becomes ten or fifteen degrees to low, and stays that way long, your body dies. Your body does not want to die. Regardless of what you may want, your body is going to do everything possible to get it's temperature back to normal. A body is mostly water. In my case about one hundred fifteen pounds. That is roughly fifteen gallons of water. Now, imagine how much heat it would take to raise the temperature of fifteen gallons of water fifteen degrees in one hour. Lastly, imagine how hard every last muscle in your body would have to work to produce that much heat. Result, violent convulsions.

The only possible bright side to any of this was that I had managed to get out of earshot of the campers before being disabled by the convulsions. Good thing because for the next hour or so, I was completely and utterly unable to control anything I did. For all I know, the forest may have vibrated with my screams of agony. I do know however, that at sometime during my convulsive state, I let loose of all my bodily functions. When the agonizing convulsions finally turned to more normal teeth chattering shivers, I began to assess my situation. My front was covered with vomit mixed with dirt, leaves, twigs and other such debris. Judging from the smell, I had also shit myself and apparently rolled in it. It was four thirty in the morning and I was a good two hours from home. I was half frozen to death, butt naked and covered head to toe with piss, shit, puke and who knows what else. I must be the stupidest bitch alive. When I do get home, I think I'll just spend the day sticking pins in my tits to remind me of the fact.

DIARY OF CAROLYN

Chapter Seven

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

Diary of Carolyn

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