STANDARD DISCLAIMER

     

               This story was written by ME. It contains words and

              phrases of a sexual nature. I personally do not care

              who or what reads it or what age they are as long as

               it brings them any measure of enjoyment. However to

             satisfy the paranoid among us this disclaimer forewarns

              them of the possible decline in their perceived level

                   of morality by continuing past this point.

     

                                      > . <

     

     

                                DIARY OF CAROLYN

     

                                 Copyright 1997

     

                                  Skull Duggery

     

                           This is a work of fiction.

     

     

     

          My name is Carolyn James. I am presently twenty four years of 

     age. What follows is a compilation of my personal diary from the age 

     of thirteen to about age nineteen. It is a fairly detailed 

     description of my experiences in self imposed bondage and personal 

     pain infliction. I am certain there are others who participate in 

     this type of sexual deviance ( deviance meaning only different ) 

     therefore I sincerely hope they enjoy this personal account of my 

     pains and pleasures. For those who think me to be crazy, evil, or 

     just plain out of my mind, be careful to keep concealed whatever 

     secret fantasies you have ( we all have them ) otherwise you might 

     really screw up and cause yourself some real pleasure.

     

          I was born in the town of Hammond in the mid western state of 

     Indiana. My parents were average middle class rural American people 

     with enough income to live a very comfortable life. I was also an 

     only child due to complications at my birth leaving my mother unable 

     to conceive any more children. Although it would have been nice to 

     grow up with another brother or sister, being an only child did have 

     it's advantages. Actually, when I think back over my childhood, my 

     mother was most affected by her unfortunate sterility. I didn't see 

     it when I was young but she had few friends and spent much of her 

     time either reading or doing house work or fiddling with this or that 

     to occupy her time. Although she in no way abused or mistreated me, 

     I've always felt she somehow blamed me for her inability to conceive 

     another child.

     

          My father worked as a farm implement salesman. This, however, 

     kept him away from home much of the time due to the great distances 

     he had to travel servicing the various farms in Indiana and Illinois. 

     He was almost always home on the weekends but in general would only 

     pop in one night during the week and that would be only to catch a 

     few hours of much needed sleep. Of course, not knowing how my mother 

     was before I was born, and however introverted she had become, my 

     father was just the opposite. He always seemed full of energy and it 

     is difficult for me to recall a time when he wasn't smiling or 

     laughing or telling stupid salesman and the farmer's daughter jokes. 

     It is only recently I've come to realize how much I missed him as a 

     child.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

          I had always been skinny as a child. Not what you would call 

     undernourished, but until I was about fourteen I guess I did resemble 

     a proverbial fence post. Actually it was during my thirteenth year 

     that I started to develop in many ways. My breasts began to emerge 

     along with the first signs of pubic hair at the top of my vaginal 

     slit. I gained a little weight, that is, at least by the time I was 

     fourteen my elbows and knees no longer looked larger than the limbs 

     they were joined to. I also began my monthly period which scared the 

     hell out of me as no one had thought to inform me about this little 

     part of puberty. Well, as I'm sure you realize, I survived this 

     momentous event, and after a few frantic moments of believing I would 

     surely bleed to death, my mother managed to explain the facts to me. 

     I learned very little about the facts of life from my mother. She 

     never was good at talking about anything sexual, consequently, most 

     all my sexual education I had to gain for myself.

     

          Having to learn about your own sexuality by yourself isn't all 

     bad. Although perhaps somewhat frustrating, having no particular 

     guidance or encouragement, I was able to experiment in many ways not 

     open to most pubescent teens. Also, by not having the normal 

     puritanical fears instilled in my brain, if it felt good to me, I 

     could do it without all of those false guilt getting in the way of 

     my sexual fulfillment. Consequently, after some initial blind 

     experimentation, I was able to achieve some of the most fantastic 

     orgasms possible with solo sexual stimulus. 

     

          I spent most of my fourteenth year satisfying myself with normal 

     masturbation using only different positions to break the monotony. I 

     dated a few boys that I went to school with and even had intercourse 

     several times. But the boys were so damn awkward that I would have to 

     masturbate when they were finished to get myself off. This practice, 

     unfortunately, did little to support their fragile egos and I found 

     it increasingly difficult to find dates.

     

          By the time I was fifteen my puberty was mostly a memory. My 

     breasts had developed to a somewhat small but very firm size with two 

     perfect eraser type nipples surrounded by quarter sized aureole. I 

     still had rather small boyish hips but with my long legs and slender 

     frame I felt that I looked OK anyway. Besides, what had started as a 

     little tuft of pubic hair, had since blossomed into a perfect 

     triangle of carpet thick hair that protruded a good three inches out 

     from my flat abdomen and completely covered my vagina. Anyone 

     doubting my maturity would think otherwise if they ever saw me 

     bottomless.

     

          Finding pain to be a sexual aphrodisiac happened quite 

     accidently. With my father away on business for most of the time, and 

     my mother normally engrossed in her own interests, I could lock the 

     door to my room and do whatever pleased me without fear of being 

     disturbed. I'm not exactly sure why, but one evening I had 

     masturbated for nearly half an hour and could not reach a climax. I 

     became frustrated with myself and actually a bit angry. As I 

     continued rubbing my clitoris, and out of frustration, I pinched my 

     nipple as hard as I could sending a great amount of pain through my 

     breast. To my amazement I immediately began to climax.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

          My climax lasted much longer than usual and was considerably 

     more intense. When it was over I actually lay back panting from the 

     experience. After a few moments I started to play with my nipples 

     again. Still feeling the effects of my previous orgasm, my nipples 

     became hard and erect almost immediately. As I lay upon my bed 

     working my nipples between my fingers, I found that if I alternately 

     squeezed them to the point of pain, my vagina would tingle and I 

     would feel another orgasm building from the nipple stimulation alone. 

     I achieved orgasm three more times that night before falling asleep 

     exhausted from this most pleasing ordeal.

     

          As it happened, the next day was a school holiday. I awoke 

     around sunrise mostly from habit but also from an incredible wet 

     dream I was having. I cannot count the number of times I have 

     climaxed from my first until last night but I can tell you that none 

     were as fantastic as my last four. As I climbed out of bed, my arm 

     brushed across my nipples causing me to jump. I figured I must have 

     really gotten carried away during my orgasms judging by the 

     tenderness of my nipples. Anyway, I made my way to the bathroom, took 

     a long hot shower, slipped on my bathrobe and went downstairs for 

     breakfast.

     

          As usual, my mother was still asleep. She rarely got up before 

     noon except for when my dad was home. Actually, it suited me fine as 

     my mother and I had little in common anyway. I noticed that I was 

     becoming a little excited as my robe brushed over my tender nipples 

     as I went about fixing breakfast. I ate my breakfast quickly. I 

     wanted to get back to my room and see if I could manage a repeat 

     performance of last night. It's always fun to experiment with any new 

     found turn on. 

     

          Once back in my room, I locked the door and removed my bathrobe. 

     I then stood in front of my full length mirror and studied my 

     maturing fifteen year old body. I turned sideways and back carefully 

     inspecting every part of myself I could get into view. I had pretty 

     much already decided I wasn't a raving beauty but all in all I was no 

     dog either. I stood only about five foot four but my one hundred five 

     pounds was well distributed and I did have long legs. I ran my hands 

     slowly around by breasts and sucked in my already flat stomach as I 

     rested my hands on my hips. All in all, I was satisfied with the way 

     I looked. 

     

          While still looking at myself in the mirror, I started to run my 

     fingers through my pubic hair. I liked the fact that it was so soft 

     and thick as I rubbed back and forth touching my clit every now and 

     then. I thought to myself as I rubbed, I may not have the biggest 

     tits of the other girls my age at school, but having seen all of them 

     naked in the locker room at one time or another, I definitely had the 

     prettiest crotch. My hair grew in a perfect triangle. It didn't 

     straggle above the hair line or down my thighs. It just started thick 

     and grew the same all the way to my ass hole. To this day I could 

     never understand why a woman would shave or trim their pubic region 

     to look like a little girl considering that when we were little girls 

     how we prayed for the hair to grow so we would look like women.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

          I had passed my sixteenth birthday before I had done much other 

     than pinching my own nipples. This was partly due to having found a 

     boy friend who was able to actually pay attention to my needs before 

     completely filling his. We had a wonderful time together, and I 

     believe we were in love. At least as much in love as any two people 

     our age could be. I know without any doubt it broke my heart when his 

     father changed jobs and he had to move away. I think that feeling of 

     complete and utter despair, having lost someone I loved, gave me my 

     first insight into how my mother must have felt over the years. 

     However, after a couple of weeks of moping around and feeling 

     depressed, the beautiful summer weather overtook my sadness and I 

     returned to being normal. As long as you consider alone normal. You 

     do, don't you? Don't bother to answer, I'm sure you do.

     

          My father may have worked selling farm equipment, but the only 

     things a farm and our house had in common were that it was two miles 

     to our nearest neighbor and we had about ten acres of thick woods 

     behind us. Don't misunderstand me, there were no packs of wild 

     animals roving around or anything. It may have been rural but it 

     wasn't the sticks. No hillbillies either. I'm sure if it had been my 

     desire, and if I could have figured a way, I could have lured the 

     entire town here one by one, then killed and buried them without a 

     trace. I must put that thought out of my mind. In case I hadn't 

     mentioned, I still live here.

     

          During my sixteenth year while on summer vacation from high 

     school is when I progressed to some pretty bizarre shit. At least it 

     was in my view at the time. I acquired a great fascination for the 

     local hardware store that summer. I still wonder today if the store 

     clerk ever had a clue what a sixteen year old girl was doing with all 

     those clips, little chains, lead plum bobs, and other assorted items 

     she purchased from him.

     

          I would try to be up just after sunrise in the morning on days 

     when I was going to go on one of my escapades. I would gather 

     whatever gadgets I intended to use that day and put them in a small 

     duffel bag. I would usually put on only a sweat shirt and shorts as 

     once I was out of sight in the woods, I would spend the rest of the 

     day naked. Once I was just past the woods edge, I would remove 

     whatever clothes I had on and leave them under some leaves by this 

     old tree. I left my clothes there for a reason. Somehow it added to 

     the level of excitement, being totally naked in the woods and not 

     having any choice in the matter unless I could get back to my 

     clothes. As I normally went a couple of miles deeper into the woods, 

     you can see the problem if I accidently ran into other people who may 

     also be poking around the woods.

     

          The following account is of one particular autumn day just 

     before I was to start my junior year of high school. If there ever 

     was a day when Murphys Law ruled, this was it. Although if it could 

     possibly fuck up, it would fuck up, but it was also the most 

     wonderful, the most scary, and the most sexually satisfying day of 

     that entire summer. I am going to do my best to describe the whole 

     days experience in as much detail as possible.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

          It was around six thirty in the morning when I arrived at the 

     tree where I deposited my clothing to be retrieved at the end of the 

     day when I returned. I covered my small bundle with leaves the same 

     as I had done every other time. The first thing I began to feel after 

     donning my birthday suit, was cold. Summer nights in Indiana seldom 

     drop below sixty degrees but a cold front must have passed through 

     during the night. I don't know exactly what the temperature was, but 

     it was cold enough to bring millions of tiny goose bumps to my bare 

     skin and set my teeth to chattering constantly. Oh well, the sun was 

     already above the horizon, it would start to warm up in an hour or 

     so, I figured I could take it that long anyway.

     

          I had planned this day to begin by putting two metal adjustable 

     serrated clamps on each nipple. This I did before beginning my trek 

     deeper into the woods. I tightened each clamp until the pain was 

     close to my limit of endurance. I knew from experience the pain would 

     subside after a while and I would need to keep tightening them at 

     intervals to maintain the level of pain I desired. I then proceeded 

     to walk on deeper into the woods listening carefully for the sounds 

     of any others who might also be in the woods. I did not want to be 

     surprised by some lost camping family and have to explain what I was 

     doing completely nude with metal clamps hanging from my nipples. I 

     mean, they may not understand.

     

          I had walked for about an hour when I stopped by this big rock I 

     had been to several times before. It wasn't until I stopped that I 

     realized it wasn't warming up very much. While I had been walking, 

     the pain in my nipples compounded by the bouncing of the heavy 

     clamps, had kept my mind off the temperature. I re tightened my nipple 

     clamps a little and quickly the level of pain shot back up to where I 

     drew a sharp breath. Although I was shivering enough that if I tried 

     to speak the words came out in a staccato that would have been hard 

     to understand, between that and the pain racing through my tits, I 

     could feel an orgasm building rapidly. This I did not want. I knew 

     from experience that one huge climax was better than a bunch of 

     little ones and I had vowed I was going to push myself to my limit of 

     endurance and fully expected to have an orgasm that would melt me 

     down into a smoldering mass, if that were possible.

     

          I was beginning to wish I had brought my clothes along this 

     time. Who would have figured on a cold snap in the first week of 

     September anyway? And to top it all off, the sky had clouded over and 

     I could barely see the sun. I thought about calling off my plans, but 

     this would be the last weekday I would be out of school for a long 

     time. My father was home on weekends and if I waited until my next 

     weekday opportunity, it would sure as hell be colder than this. 

     Having thought it all over, and since I had come this far anyway, and 

     in spite of all my discomfort, I really was having a good time. 

     

          I was about another hours walk to the old pump house where I had 

     planned to end the second leg of my ordeal. Deciding it was time to 

     up the stakes, so to speak, I chose to add weights to my nipple 

     clamps. I withdrew two sixteen ounce lead plum bobs from my duffel 

     and attached two twelve inch pieces of shoe lace, one to each one 

     pound weight. I then tied the free ends to my clamps.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

          With everything ready, I spent a few moments mentally preparing 

     myself for the sharp increase in pain I knew two pounds of weight 

     hanging from my tender nipples would undoubtedly cause. The first 

     time I let go of the weights I had to grab them again after about 

     thirty seconds as the pain was more than I could handle. I almost 

     grabbed them on my second attempt, but absolutely forced myself to 

     leave them hanging as I gathered up the duffel bag. Believe me, at 

     this point I was in sheer agony. As I started walking, I found it 

     impossible to prevent the weights from swinging and banging into each 

     other as I walked along. It was sort of weird though. I was so cold I 

     was covered with goose bumps but at the same time I could feel beads 

     of sweat forming on my forehead. 

     

          I wasn't making very good progress. Every time the weights would 

     hit each other it would send daggers of pain all throughout my chest. 

     And each time I would have to stop for a few seconds while the pain 

     eased up enough for me to be able to stand it the next time the 

     weights banged each other. And that was about every fourth step. 

     Another problem that I was having was I could feel the clamps slowly 

     slipping from my nipples. The thought of having to tighten them more 

     brought a feeling of fear to the pit of my stomach. 

     

          Fear or no fear, I knew what I had to do. This entire ordeal, 

     between the pain, the cold, and my uncertainty if I could stand it 

     all, had me so unbelievably horny I wasn't about to quit now. I 

     gritted my chattering teeth and tightened each clamp until I actually 

     cried out from the agony that engulfed me. The pain was so intense I 

     nearly lost control of my bladder. I reached down to cover my pee 

     hole when I felt my urine start to drip but the feeling that shot 

     through my vagina from just the touch of my finger drove me to brink 

     of orgasm. Tears were running down my cheeks as I started walking but 

     the thought of the mega orgasm I knew I would have if only I could 

     make it to the pump house kept me going.

     

          The cloud cover started to burn off shortly after I started 

     walking again and the sun, now fairly high in the sky, began to 

     quickly take the chill from the air. By now it was probably about ten 

     o'clock and for the first time in three and a half hours I had 

     stopped shivering. The warm autumn sun felt good on my naked skin. I 

     still wasn't making very good time although the pain in my nipples 

     and breasts had become slightly more tolerable. Even though I had 

     only gone about one fourth of the way to the pump house, I needed to 

     stop and rest. The combination of the intense pain and the extra 

     exertion required to walk while trying to control the motion of the 

     swinging weights was taking its toll.

     

          I carefully eased myself down next to an old log and then lay 

     back letting the two lead weights fall to the ground on either side 

     taking the strain off my throbbing tits. The air had really warmed up 

     a lot. In fact, it was starting to actually get hot. Most of the pain 

     had subsided and it felt really good laying in the warm sun. I 

     considered removing the clamps from my nipples but from experience I 

     knew after the circulation had returned, they would be far to sore 

     for me to put them back on. So I just closed my eyes and ran my 

     fingers through my bush teasing myself with thoughts of things to 

     come.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

          I must have been more exhausted than I realized. The mid 

     afternoon sun bathed my body with it's hot rays filtering down 

     through the leaves as I awoke. A little groggy from my nap I felt 

     panicked thinking I had slept away the whole day. After a couple of 

     minutes I regained my bearings and by the position of the sun I knew 

     it was only about two in the afternoon. I had napped longer than I 

     had wanted to, but I figured I could still make the pump house and 

     still get home by dark.

     

          Having rested, my excitement again began to build. As I got 

     myself to my feet, and the weights brought the fire like pain back to 

     my breasts, I began to fantasize that I was prisoner being forced to 

     make this trek through the woods. I imagined that when I had refused 

     to give my imaginary captors the information they wanted, I had been 

     stripped naked and marched through the woods with my nipples under 

     torture. As I walked along becoming more absorbed in my fantasy, I 

     imagined since I had come this far without breaking, that my captors 

     must intend to increase my torture by now. My tits hurt like hell, 

     but I was getting so excited by my little fantasy, I started to think 

     of ways to make my pain worse.

     

          I had two more sixteen ounce weights in my duffel along with 

     some more clips and shoe lace. I didn't think by the looks of my 

     nipples that they could stand any more weights attached without 

     causing some permanent damage, so, I began to consider some other 

     possibilities. With my limited inventory of devices, I imagined my 

     captors had decided to torture my pussy for the rest of the way. I 

     stopped and dug the weights and laces out of my bag and attached the 

     clamps to my pussy lips just below my clitoris as I squatted on the 

     forest floor. I tightened the clamps until my eyes started to water 

     from the pain, then, thinking my imaginary captors wouldn't be so 

     kind, I gave each one another half turn more. 

     

          If I had so much as touched my clit I would have orgasmed 

     uncontrollably. My bladder was also full and thought about relieving 

     myself while I was squatted down but going back to my fantasy, my 

     captors wouldn't allow me to piss, they're trying to make me talk, 

     they want me to suffer as much as possible knowing if they don't get 

     me to talk before we reach the pump house, they will have failed. 

     Slowly I stood up. Totally engrossed in my fantasy, I told myself I 

     wouldn't satisfy my captors by crying out, but when my labia lifted 

     two pounds of lead from the ground, I could not keep the scream that 

     followed from echoing through the woods fantasy or not. Every exhale 

     of breath brought at least a loud moan from my lips as forced myself 

     on through the woods with four pounds of lead weights swinging to and 

     fro supported only by some of the most tender and sensitive parts of 

     my body. The morning cold had turned into a typical ninety degree 

     autumn Indiana day. 

     

          My body glistened in the afternoon sun from the sweat coming 

     from every pore. My mind moved from fantasy to reality and back as I 

     endured the mind numbing pain. Just as I thought I couldn't possibly 

     stand it any longer, the old pump house came into view. I mustered 

     every ounce of determination I had. I screamed with every heaving 

     breath as I went the final steps. Ha ha, I made it.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

          I sunk to my knees next to the pump house, breathing heavily as 

     the perspiration dripped from every part of me. Supporting myself 

     against the wall with my left hand, I eased my other down through my 

     sweat matted pubic hair and flicked my clitoris only once when the 

     first wave of orgasm exploded through me. I buried my middle finger 

     deep into my vagina while rubbing my swollen clit with my thumb 

     bringing on a second and more powerful orgasm that nearly caused me 

     to pass out. No longer able to control my bladder, the warm piss 

     sprayed onto my hand as I continued jerking myself off. I can't begin 

     to tell you how many times I climaxed, but when it was finally over, 

     my body was nothing but a sweat soaked, shuddering mass of exhausted 

     flesh curled up on the forest floor. It was at least half an hour 

     before I regained enough strength to remove my clamps and weights. 

     

          I went inside and pumped some cool water from the old well. 

     Placing myself under the pump spout I let the cool water run all over 

     me. The cool water felt so good. My legs were still shaking from the 

     post orgasmic state I was in. I just stood there, massaging my sore 

     nipples and pussy with the cool water until I realized how much time 

     had passed. I took one last drink of water and went back outside. The 

     sun was now low in the western sky. Feeling a bit of panic knowing I 

     had spent way to much time here I gathered my little devices into my 

     duffel. I checked around to make sure nothing was forgotten, and 

     started back the way I came.

     

          The sun was setting rapidly and I cursed myself for wasting so 

     much of the day asleep. I was also upset that I hadn't been more 

     prepared, I mean, I didn't even bring a flashlight, and at this time 

     of year when the sum went down it got very dark very quickly. It also 

     got very cold. I wasn't unfamiliar with the woods as I had made this 

     trip before. It's just that I had never done it at night. Maybe if I 

     was lucky there would be a full moon.

     

          It didn't seem I had traveled very far before the nights 

     darkness had engulfed the forest. Although there was still a faint 

     glow to the sky, it was almost completely dark where I was and 

     becoming hard to see much of anything. It was also becoming quite 

     cold and I started to shiver as I poked my way along trying not to 

     stumble over objects in my path. As I moved along trying to put my 

     mind on something other than the cold seeping into my nude body, 

     another foreboding thought occurred to me. I was pretty certain I 

     could find my way home or at least in the general area, but what if I 

     couldn't find the tree where I had left my clothes? I was sure that 

     my father would already be home before me and, being Friday night, he 

     would have four or five of his buddies with him to play cards. I knew 

     they always played out on the back porch so there was no way I could 

     sneak into the house unnoticed. 

     

          My mind jumped back to reality as a sharp twig waiting unseen in 

     the darkness snapped across my bruised nipples bringing a quick yelp 

     to my lips. Damn, I said to myself as I stopped and cupped my hands 

     over my stinging tits in a vain attempt to comfort them. I couldn't 

     remember my nipples ever being this tender before. But, I thought, I 

     couldn't remember ever experiencing the volcanic like orgasms I had 

     happily enjoyed today. I guess the more the play, the more the pay.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

          The moon came up early but was not anywhere near the full moon I 

     had hoped for. However the faint slivers of light that did filter 

     down provided enough illumination to keep me from running into trees 

     head on. The temperature had really took a dive after sunset and I 

     was really starting to feel it. To make things worse, an intermittent 

     breeze had come up and when it blew over my naked skin it took my 

     breath away. At least my sense of direction was good this far as I 

     caught sight of the big rock that marked the half way point.

     

          I crouched down on the leeward side of the rock and blew into my 

     hands trying desperately to fight off the cold. The wind was more 

     steady now from the north east and it stung my nude body something 

     awful. I'm not sure just how long I stayed at the rock but I finally 

     forced myself to get started on the last leg home. I gave myself 

     credit for at least being smart enough to have worn my sneakers 

     considering I had entertained the thought of going barefoot this 

     morning. My hands got so cold I had to stick them down into my bush 

     and try to warm them about every five minutes or so as I tramped 

     along through the dry leaves making weird crunching sounds with each 

     footstep. I don't think there was ever a time, before or since, that 

     I have been so completely cold as I was that night. I was really 

     beginning to wonder if all this would end with my frozen lifeless 

     body being discovered in the morning laying naked on the forest 

     floor.

     

          My thoughts of impending doom vanished as I stopped dead in my 

     tracks. Looking around, I suddenly realized I was no longer in the 

     woods. I was standing in an open field with the edge of the woods 

     about one hundred yards behind me. Although I was totally alone, I 

     had this weird feeling of self consciousness as I sneaked back to the 

     cover of the woods. I tried to squat down and get my bearings but I 

     was shivering so badly I lost balance and fell on my side. I again 

     cursed myself for getting in to this predicament as I got back up 

     brushing leaves and twigs away that had stuck to me when I fell over. 

     I knew I would have to venture out into the open field far enough to 

     know exactly where I had exited the woods if I had any hope of 

     finding my clothes. Even though I realized the possibility of anyone 

     being within a mile of me was slim to none, I gingerly crept through 

     the open field thinking how the tongues would wag when telling about 

     the local teenage girl found stark naked hiding in a field.

     

          As I crept to the top of a small knoll I almost shouted with joy 

     seeing my house only a few hundred yards in front of me. Even though 

     I could see my father and his buddies right where I knew they would 

     be playing cards, it took every bit of will I had to keep from 

     bolting buck naked past them and into that nice warm house. Now that 

     I knew where I was, and cold to the point of actual pain, I ran back 

     towards the point in the edge of the woods where I left my clothes 

     that morning. Fortunately my memory was accurate and I located my 

     sweat shirt and shorts easily. Putting them on was a bit more 

     difficult. All that running through the dew covered grass had gotten 

     me wet and with the cold breeze my body shivered and jerked as I 

     fought to get my limbs into the right holes. After a few tries, I 

     succeeded with my task and took off on a dead run for home. As I 

     reached the back door, I concentrated on trying to stop shivering and 

     act normal as I stepped onto the porch. What happened next really 

     pissed me off. My dad and all his friends greeted me without ever 

     looking up. I may as well have been naked! Later I actually 

     considered stripping and going out to see if they would notice. I 

     thought not.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

          I believe I will finish this tale at a later date. I still have 

     several more experiences I would like to write about. Although this 

     portion of my diary you have just read contains some really wonderful 

     memories, I remember at least a couple more that made these pale in 

     comparison. To be honest, writing what I have so far, has gotten me 

     so horny I really must take a break. I will, however, continue my 

     story at my first opportunity.

     

     

     

                                DIARY OF CAROLYN

                                    Part Two

     

                                 Copyright 1997

                                  Skull Duggery

     

                           This is a work of fiction.

     

     

     

     

          It took several days for me to completely recover from my last 

     little escapade. I was sure, well, pretty sure none of my classmates 

     noticed my slightly bow legged walk or my lack of a brassier the 

     first few days of school that fall. At least no one mentioned it. I 

     was also relieved to learn due to some scheduling problems, I wasn't 

     assigned any gym classes for the first two weeks. My bruised labia 

     might have gone unnoticed due to my ample bush but I could in no way 

     hide my severely discolored and bruised nipples. At my young age, I 

     was still amazed how so much pain could result in so much pleasure. I 

     mean, even the discomfort I was feeling now excited me.

     

          As the school days turned into school weeks, and the fall to 

     winter, the first snowfall brought welcomed relief from my monotonous 

     schedule. Hardly a day had passed since my end summer experience at 

     the old pump house that I didn't think of that most fantastic orgasm 

     and wishing for more. I had imagined myself many times since in 

     similar situations but with school and all, could not make an 

     opportunity to do so. In addition, I knew a large part of my 

     excitement was being naked and vulnerable out of doors but the sub 

     freezing winter temperatures virtually made that an impossibility. I 

     did however make an attempt during Christmas vacation, but, as I will 

     explain, the results were less than I had hoped for.

     

          My opportunity presented itself two days before Christmas. Both 

     of my parents left to spend the day dropping off gifts and visiting 

     several friends in the area. They indicated they would be home very 

     late and didn't seem to mind when I declined to go along. I quickly 

     began to formulate a plan. Although it was a bright sunny day, the 

     temperature was only supposed to reach about twenty degrees. I 

     probably wouldn't have even attempted this but my last trip to the 

     pump house had spoiled me and I was desperate for another wildly 

     fantastic orgasm. I could usually bring myself to a climax by various 

     indoor means, but without that added excitement and vulnerability of 

     being nude in the wide open spaces, there was just nothing super 

     special about it.

     

          The winter so far had been cold but with less than normal 

     snowfall. Considering the snow cover was only about six or eight 

     inches deep I put on a pair of fur lined boots that ended two or 

     three inches below my knees. I then tried to decide what clothes I 

     should start out with. However, with my excitement building with 

     anticipation of the ordeal, I opted to wear only my three quarter 

     length parka. Just the thought of being completely naked under the 

     parka started me tingling. Oh, I should mention on one of my trips to 

     the local hardware supply, I found some self locking clamps that 

     tightened themselves in relation to the amount of pulling tension 

     applied to them. I don't know if you have ever had a clamp slip off 

     your nipple when you weren't expecting it, but it brings on an 

     instant reality check. I could load these little babies down until my 

     screams echoed from the walls and they would stay attached. Excuse 

     me, I got myself a little excited. I'll get back to the story now.

     

          

     

     

     

     

     

     

          Having gathered my things together, I proceeded to walk across 

     the field to the edge of the woods. The cold air stung my legs in the 

     uncovered gap between where my coat ended and the boots began. There 

     wasn't much for cover in the woods this time of year, so I had to 

     walk in a hundred yards or so before I was comfortable that I 

     couldn't be seen. I may have been crazy, but I never was much of an 

     exhibitionist. Even though I was tingling with anticipation, it took 

     a few minutes to get courage enough to shed my coat and expose my 

     nudity to the winter air. Being determined to continue, I took one 

     last look around to be sure I was alone, then let my coat fall to the 

     ground.

     

          To my surprise, it wasn't nearly as bad as I had imagined. 

     Fortunately it was a still day with only a barely perceptible 

     occasional breeze. My plan this day was only to go as far as the big 

     rock. Having lived in this climate for only a month short of 

     seventeen years, I knew I could not last for more than two hours 

     maximum at this temperature and it was an hour each way to the rock. 

     I had been waiting for months to do this and my excited mind moved 

     quickly into fantasy land.

     

          It's strange how the mind often tailors it's fantasy to the 

     situation you're in. Although I was an only child, I began to 

     fantasize I was being punished by my two older sisters for some minor 

     indiscretion that displeased them. I imagined them vowing I would 

     never forget the pain and suffering they were about to inflict on me. 

     Knowing that my time was limited I had already attached my new clamps 

     to my sixteen ounce weights and had brought along four additional one 

     pounders for good measure. For some reason, my threshold for pain had 

     increased and I wanted to assure myself of a gigantic orgasm. 

     Squatting down resting the first two weights in the snow, I attached 

     a clamp to each nipple, imagining my siblings were forcing me to 

     install my own implements of torture. I then did the same on each 

     side of my clitoris being sure to get a good grip on the sensitive 

     flesh. I couldn't resist running my cold finger up and down my moist 

     slit. I had to force myself to stop. I was so close to climax I 

     didn't dare move for fear it would send me over the top and I hadn't 

     waited this long for it to end in the first fifteen minutes.

     

          As soon as I was back under control, I drifted back to my 

     fantasy imagining my taunting punishers, all warmly clothed, pleased 

     with themselves watching this poor naked teenager struggle in the 

     biting cold trying to lift four pounds of lead with her most 

     sensitive flesh. I then rose to my feet as the clamps bit deeply 

     pulling hard as I started to walk. I was really cold but for some 

     reason, not shivering. Maybe because of the low humidity. At any 

     rate, I felt the need to increase my self torture. I stopped when I  

     was near the half way point to the big rock. I was most definitely 

     very cold and the swinging weights caused me considerable pain, so 

     the uncertainty of my being able to go the next half hour with double 

     the weight excited me even more. As I squatted down I thought how 

     displeased my evil sisters must be that I have endured this well. 

     They vow to make the next part of my lesson sheer agony.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

          I attached four more sixteen ounce weights to the four already 

     in place. I really had no idea if I could even manage to endure 

     getting this much weight off the ground, much less stand it for 

     thirty minutes. I gathered all my strength and rose to my feet. It 

     felt as if my flesh would tear from my bones. I some how kept from 

     crying out, but the pain was so intense, I started to feel a little 

     light headed for a few moments. Oh ,how pleased my sadistic sisters 

     must be. They have to know how much I hurt. It took every ounce of 

     determination I possessed to begin walking again. I could only feel 

     the unrelenting pain burning it's way through my groin. I could not 

     see my labia but it felt like it was stretched past my knees. But I 

     knew that wasn't possible. Or was it?

     

          I'm not sure if it was the cold, or just that I had been looking 

     forward to the mind numbing orgasm I knew was soon to come for so 

     long, but somehow I withstood the most intense and searing pain I had 

     yet to subjected myself to. I had also been victorious over my 

     imaginary evil minded sadistic sisters by never allowing myself to 

     cry out from my agony. As I reached that big rock I dropped to all 

     fours in the snow. As I rubbed my palm back and forth through my 

     crotch letting one finger find it's way to my clit I could feel 

     myself on the brink of ecstasy. It was at that point, seconds before 

     I would have screamed in orgasmic pleasure, that I heard it. Voices.

     

          They didn't sound very close but the fact I wasn't alone in the 

     woods put me into a panic. I removed the clamps as quickly as I could 

     and stuffed them into my duffel bag. The woods offered much less 

     cover with the trees bare of leaves. Frantically I huddled by the cold 

     rock looking and listening for any clue as to where my intruders 

     were. With all traces of fantasy or fun now gone from my thoughts, 

     the reality of how bone chilling cold it was began to sink in. My 

     teeth began to chatter uncontrollably as I crouched in the icy snow 

     listening for a sound. My panic increased as I began to think maybe 

     they heard my chattering teeth and knew where I was. The noise from 

     my teeth probably couldn't be heard more than two feet, but at the 

     time they sounded like jack hammers to me.

     

          After about another ten minutes I knew I would have to do 

     something. I knew if just stayed where I was I would freeze to death 

     or at least end up frostbitten. I hadn't heard any more voices so I 

     carefully moved around the rock keeping a sharp eye out for anything 

     that moved. Nothing. I began to wonder if I had just imagined hearing 

     voices. One more trip around the rock. Nothing. Something felt funny 

     in my crotch. One quick look and feel made my mind up for me. Voices 

     or no voices, I had to get back to my jacket and home. Take my word, 

     when your pubic hair is frozen together with cum juice, it's time to 

     go.

     

          I picked up my duffel bag, took one last look in every 

     direction, then took off on a dead run towards home. The cold air 

     made my lungs ache but I kept running anyway. When I finally reached 

     my starting point, I grabbed my much welcomed parka, put it on and 

     collapsed in heaving exhaustion. What had took me an hour to walk, I 

     had run in less than fifteen minutes.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

          I'm not sure how long I lay there before I regained enough 

     strength to go the rest of the way home but I was still half out of 

     breath as I got to my house. I immediately drew a hot bath, then 

     eased my tired freezing body into the tub. The warm water felt so 

     good, I soon drifted into an exhausted slumber.

     

          It was late in the afternoon when I finally awoke and dragged 

     myself from my bath. After drying off I flopped naked on my bed and 

     tried to make some sense of what had happened to me. I was still 

     unsure if the voices I heard were real or imaginary, and if they 

     weren't real, I fucked myself out an orgasm I'd waited months for. 

     This, however was something I'd never know. End result? Fucked up.

     

          The rest of that winter was pretty much uneventful with the 

     possible exception of my seventeenth birthday. I did get laid by a 

     very good looking senior football player. The guy was super popular 

     and had just about every girl in school hot after him. I was actually 

     surprised at the time to get a date with him. Don't think I'm putting 

     myself down or anything, I mean, I'm no Cheryl Tiegs then or now, 

     but I figure I'm at least a good strong eight in the looks department 

     and if you're into slim hard bodied girls with small tits and long 

     hard nipples(I wonder what caused that?) and a nice thick bush to 

     bury your face in, I'm definitely a ten.

     

          I won't go into great detail about this date as there was only 

     this one with the football jock. Please understand, I had a great 

     time and if you're fond of five minute fucks, and then hearing all 

     the blow by blow details of your sexual experience being discussed by 

     people you don't even know, his name was Steve Greene. 

     

         Once again I must attend to other matters. I will continue to 

     recount some of my more memorable experiences as soon as possible.

     

     

                                DIARY OF CAROLYN

     

                                   Part Three

     

                                 Copyright 1997

                                  Skull Duggery

     

                            This is a work of fiction

     

     

          What follows are the details of a few of the most remarkable 

     experiences that come to mind during my summer vacation preceding my 

     senior year of high school. My thrill of outdoor nudity and the 

     always present danger of being seen had certainly not diminished even 

     after my Christmas disaster. I'm still not sure about those voices. I 

     had pretty much resolved myself to personal means for my sexual 

     gratification. Although I enjoyed going out with guys and I did enjoy 

     intercourse, somehow I always ended up less than satisfied. I had 

     entertained the thought of perhaps finding someone who might share 

     the same sexual deviance as myself but in this hick town if you told 

     a guy you enjoyed pain, he'd hit you with a beer bottle and then 

     wonder why you weren't happy about it. I am quite certain there are 

     people around here doing things a lot more weird than me for sexual 

     satisfaction, but no one would ever admit it. If only sheep could 

     talk.

     

          I saw very little of my mother that summer. My grandmother had 

     become ill to the point where she needed constant help with 

     everything so my mother stayed with her during the week. She would be 

     home on whatever weekends she could find somebody to take her place. 

     No matter really, I had lost the need of a mother long ago. When it 

     came to my father, I may not have been able to tell him my innermost 

     secrets, but I knew without any doubt if I ever really needed him, 

     he'd swim an ocean or walk through a wall to keep me from harm. At 

     any rate, the summer offered me many opportunities to experience 

     anything I dreamed up.

     

          To this point I had yet to duplicate the earth shattering orgasm 

     of almost a year ago. The memory of my Christmas fiasco still angered 

     me and the more I try to tell myself there really was someone who 

     almost happened upon me, the more I think it was only my imagination 

     that screwed me up. No matter, I had a new plan anyway. Besides, if 

     it hadn't been so stinking cold, everything would have worked out 

     anyway and it's not cold now. I fell asleep as I went over the 

     various trials and tortures I would inflict upon myself tomorrow.

     

          I awoke early. The sun was barely peeping over the eastern 

     horizon as I shook the sleep from my eyes. Since I was the only one 

     in the house most of the time, I now stayed nude as much as possible. 

     It's hard to realize until you do it for awhile, but being naked is 

     easy to get used to and I've actually gone outside without thinking 

     and then had to dash back in the house for fear of being seen. I've 

     always wondered why I was so damn modest. I mean, I'd seen lots of 

     other girls naked and with the possible exception of my small 

     breasts, I had as killer a body as any of them. I stood in front of 

     my wall mirror checking myself out as I thought about this. I studied 

     my breasts and to me they looked all right. I was by no means flat 

     chested and besides, having played around with all my plum bobs and 

     other fun toys, I couldn't imagine having two humongous blobs of tit 

     flesh hanging from my chest all the time. Actually for as slim as I 

     was, they were about the right size. Well, maybe just a bit bigger.

     

          

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

          I continued to view myself in the mirror thinking how lucky I 

     really was. I must have had good genes to stay this slim with no more 

     attention then I pay to diet or working out. One thing that 

     disappointed me was at seventeen and only five foot six I was about 

     as tall as I would get. My abdomen didn't have any rippling muscles 

     like those women in the exercise videos on TV, but I was flat 

     stomached and I had a small but tight butt. I ran my fingers through 

     my pubic hair as I continued to look myself over. Having grown up 

     with mostly the same schoolmates I had seen every one of them naked 

     in the showers following gym class and there is only three other 

     girls with a pubic triangle as good as mine. I've actually been 

     complemented on it by a few of my classmates while either showering 

     or drying off in the locker room. It's embarrassing to me having 

     another girl tell me how pretty my bush is but inside I always felt 

     good. I remember once we all took a secret poll. All the girls in my 

     class had to tell that if they absolutely had to show up at school 

     either topless or bottomless, which would it be? Out of nearly one 

     hundred of us, only five chose to be naked from the waist down. I was 

     among the five but if it would have been real I'm sure I would have 

     chickened out. 

     

          I went down to the kitchen to fix myself some breakfast before 

     starting my planned activities. One should always be nude when 

     cooking bacon. Trying to outwit the bacon can be loads of fun as you 

     never seem to be able to tell when those nasty little spatters of hot 

     grease are going to attack you. It's absolutely amazing all the 

     simple things there are to have fun with. Finishing my breakfast, I 

     went to my room to collect my toys of the day.

     

          Although I had decided what I was going to do to myself the 

     night before, for some reason I wasn't totally happy with the plan. I 

     sat on the edge of my bed thinking how I should change it. I knew my 

     dad wouldn't be home until the next night and my mother not before 

     the weekend, so I had no real time limit. My excitement was building 

     as I considered things I could do to make this a twenty four hour 

     ordeal. I had never even thought about being naked and helpless 

     outside for that length of time before. Hell, the weather would be no 

     problem. This time of year was hot during the day but it wouldn't get 

     cold enough at night to be much more than uncomfortable. I also began 

     to think if I did it right, I could get myself off big time, perhaps 

     several times. I knew if I caused myself too much pain I couldn't 

     last the full twenty four hours. As much as pushing myself to my 

     limit of pain benefited my orgasm, I knew from experience if I 

     tortured my pussy and nipples it would end too soon. My nipples and 

     labia become so tender after a session, it's at least a couple of 

     days before I can torture them again. I have tried to put myself 

     through it twice in one day but the agony is more than I can begin to 

     endure.

     

          I decided on something that would tax my physical strength to 

     the limit of endurance rather than of sheer pain. I put on an old 

     summer dress to get me from the house to the woods and then went 

     about getting what I would be needing. I took along two sandwiches 

     and a quart of water. If I needed more water there were many places 

     in the woods to get it. Indiana does not lack for ground water. I 

     made sure nothing was forgotten and excitedly started out.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

            Once outside, I realized I'd picked a day that was going to be 

     really hot. It was typical summer high humidity and at only eight in 

     the morning the sun felt hot as I made my way across the open field. 

     Once inside the cover of the woods, I looked back just to be sure I 

     was alone before removing my dress. I pulled my dress over my head 

     and carefully hid it under some leaves next to my usual tree. It was 

     at that point the reality of the situation hit me. The fear and 

     apprehension that came from knowing for the next twenty four long 

     hours I was going to be completely nude, except for my tennies, with 

     absolutely nothing to put on no matter what I might encounter, had me 

     absolutely vibrating with excitement. The fact was I vibrated myself 

     into having to shit and .... I knew there was something I forgot. No 

     matter, leaves can't be any worse than that John Wayne don't take 

     shit off nobody cheap assed toilet paper my mother buys.

     

          Having finished my necessities, I began to implement my plan. I 

     also made a mental note to send some leaves to the toilet paper 

     company. If they could take the hint, it might improve their product. 

     As I mentioned earlier, my plan was to tax my physical endurance more 

     than my pain limit so I had brought along a small wooden bucket with 

     two small wire handles on each side. I had in my duffel bag eight 

     plum bobs, some clamps of no consequential weight, shoe lace, 

     sandwiches which I would eventually eat, and my quart of water. My 

     plan was to attach two of my self adjusting get tighter than shit 

     when you pull hard and hurt like hell clamps on my nipples and had 

     resolved to leave them on through my entire ordeal. I would then put 

     my duffel bag in the bucket. I figured the entire arrangement would 

     weigh about twelve or thirteen pounds. I would then attach shoe laces 

     between my nipple clamps and the bucket handles just long enough so I 

     would have to carry the bucket at waist level to keep the strain off 

     my nipples. I vowed to myself the clamps were staying attached for 

     the full twenty four hours, and that whenever I picked the bucket up 

     I could not put it down in anything less than thirty minutes. This 

     rule would apply whenever I picked the bucket up, no matter the 

     reason. Incidentally, this time I wore a watch.

     

          It was eight thirty by the time I had everything hooked up the 

     way I wanted so my ordeal wouldn't be over until the same time the 

     following morning. Twelve pounds didn't seem like much as I grasped 

     the bucket at the bottom and rose to my feet. I made the first half 

     hour with no problem. The clamps made my nipples sting a little but 

     unless I was to pull on them, they wouldn't ratchet themselves 

     tighter. I might mention that the clamps only work one way. They 

     ratchet tighter to compensate for the amount of tension they need to 

     support but do not automatically release. My arms were starting to 

     get tired but I was also becoming aroused. I intended to have as many 

     orgasms as possible by tomorrow morning so I opted not to rest after 

     my first thirty minute walk. I could tell by the feeling in my arms 

     that I'd be begging to put the bucket down before another thirty 

     minutes passed and if I had a third hand to touch myself with, that 

     thought alone I think would have gotten me off.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

          I had things figured pretty close. By the time I had gone 

     another fifteen minutes, the bucket was rapidly becoming more 

     difficult to carry. My arms became a steady dull ache as I strained 

     to keep the bucket at waist level. I wasn't exactly sure how far I 

     could let the bucket drop before the clamps would start to tighten, 

     but it couldn't be more than two or three inches at most. At any rate 

     I didn't want to find out this early on. Another five minutes went 

     by. The muscles in my arms were starting to bulge as I fought to keep 

     the bucket level. The ache in my arms steadily increased along with 

     the strain. Only five minutes to go. My biceps were now throbbing 

     unmercifully as I shook the sweat from my brow trying desperately to 

     maintain. I could feel my cum starting to drip from my crotch. One 

     minute to go. I started to shake from the maximum effort it took to 

     keep the bucket up. Feeling a sharp pain shoot first through my left 

     nipple, then my right, I sunk to the ground in total exhaustion. My 

     arms felt like lead as I fumbled to unhook the laces from the bucket. 

     I started to cum as soon as I lay back on the ground beneath me. I 

     didn't even have to touch myself as I lay there with my arms at my 

     side through the first two waves of orgasm. What a feeling. To climax 

     without having to finger myself was a new experience for me. I was so 

     pleased with myself, I lay there savoring the experience for over an 

     hour.

     

          I was still feeling satisfied as I got up and brushed myself 

     off. While I was brushing off the bits of debris from my naked form, 

     I thought how great it felt to be nude. I began to think of how much 

     fun I could have being nude all the time. There were a couple of 

     small, secluded lakes in the area where some of the locals would swim 

     or sunbathe nude. If only I wasn't so damn modest. I really needed to 

     work on that problem. I really was proud of the way I looked in the 

     nude so I was confused by my abject fear of being seen that way. I 

     continued to think about this while I drank some water and ate half 

     of a sandwich.

     

          My prediction of a hot day had been right on. With the sun near 

     the top of it's daily arc, and the humidity already high, even the 

     thick canopy of leaves offered little relief from the stifling heat. 

     It was about another hour to the old pump house so I drank most of 

     the water I had knowing I could refill my jug there. I needed to plan 

     my next orgasm so that I would be at the pump house where I would 

     have access to water to clean myself up. Especially if I juiced 

     myself up like I did here. If this first portion of my ordeal was any 

     indication, I figured I would carry the bucket for thirty minutes, 

     then rest for another thirty. That should make the last thirty 

     minutes a real challenge. Just to keep everything the same, I threw a 

     couple of rocks in my bag to compensate for the weight of the water 

     I'd consumed. As I reattached myself to the bucket, I kept thinking 

     how turned on this new type of torment was making me. I was still 

     feeling the effects of my last orgasm and it wouldn't take much to 

     bring on another.

     

          Even at my currant age of twenty four, I don't fully understand 

     why subjecting myself to intense pain and suffering results in such 

     an unreal state of sexual arousal. Although I still give myself some 

     fireworks and stars climaxes, recalling these memories as I write 

     this tale remind me of how much more gratifying it seemed as a 

     teenager. I really believe the added excitement of truly testing my 

     limits with each new ordeal I tried made the difference. I never 

     really knew if I could endure each new challenge until it was over.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

          I believe it's time to take another break as I seem to have 

     taken to rambling on and on and on. I will however continue at my 

     earliest opportunity as I had many wonderful pleasures, a few 

     surprises, and found I could withstand much more than I thought 

     possible before that day was over, and I do want to tell you all 

     about it.

     

                                DIARY OF CAROLYN

     

                                    Part Four

     

                                 Copyright 1997

                                  Skull Duggery

     

                            This is a work of fiction

     

     

     

     

          I apologize for pausing my story in the middle of my adventure. 

     Unfortunately circumstances were beyond my control. The Outer Limits 

     came on the TV so I'm sure you understand. However, I will now pick 

     up where I left off.

     

          Before I continue, a bit of technobabble. If anyone is having a 

     problem with the format of these text files I'm posting, post a reply 

     and let me know what your problem is. I do all my writing with a 

     Leading Edge word processor, vintage 1983. That is not a typo. This 

     program came with my first 8086 PC that had a whopping ten megabyte 

     hard drive. I couldn't imagine filling that monster up back then, but 

     today I'm running a 1.5 gig that's half full. It blows my mind to 

     think about it. At any rate, I can convert to .doc,.wri,zip,.txt, or 

     even post the Leading Edge style >DOC files. Anyone who has ever used 

     one of these old LE word processors knows how versatile it is, and 

     those who haven't, should give it a try. Wow! What a sales pitch. I'm 

     sure the Leading Edge company would give me a great job with an 

     office with a window and a big salary and a fine young sexatary who 

     could be my slave and man oh man what a time I could have if only 

     they hadn't gone bankrupt eight years ago. OK, enough technobabble. I 

     will continue my story tomorrow. 

     

                                DIARY OF CAROLYN

                                    Part Five

     

                                 Copyright 1997

                                  Skull Duggery

     

                            This is a work of fiction

     

     

     

     

          I was already in a state of arousal as I stood up careful to 

     keep the bucket high enough to keep the strain off my nipples. My 

     excitement began to build even more as the perspiration glistened on 

     my young body. I'm certain the temperature wasn't over eighty five or 

     ninety, but with the humid summer air, it felt much higher. As I 

     diligently trudged along, the oven like atmosphere surrounded me like 

     an invisible blanket. I began to fantasize myself a prisoner of war 

     in some tropical South American country. How foolish I had been 

     allowing myself to be captured by these primitive savages. I had 

     heard about their simple but sadistic methods of torturing female 

     prisoners, and now I was one being marched through the jungle, my 

     naked, sweat covered young body exposed to all. I imagined hearing 

     the soldiers betting among each other how long this girl could last. 

     

          Realizing I was nearing where I had planed to rest, I had to 

     decide what I wanted to do. My decision was more difficult than it 

     seems. For one, my fantasy had me extremely turned on, and I wanted 

     to keep it going. Also, as I mentioned before, I wanted to be where 

     the water was after I finished getting myself off. On the other hand, 

     I was almost certain my arms would give out before I reached the pump 

     house. After weighing the alternatives, I changed the rules. Hey, 

     don't look at me like that. I mean, I made them, didn't I, so who has 

     a better right than me to change them? I knew you'd agree.

     

          Having made my decision, I let myself escape back into my 

     fantasy. I imagined my captors, due to an argument between 

     themselves, decided to allow me to rest while they worked it out. I 

     set my bucket on an old log and unhitched the laces. Leaning back 

     against the log, I shook the circulation back into my tired arms. I 

     then started to reach for my water jug to quench my thirst only to 

     remember it was empty. Well, I wasn't really that thirsty. I also 

     knew I was in no danger of dehydrating myself. Strangely enough, 

     although the combination of heat and humidity makes a body sweat 

     profusely, you actually lose less water per period of time than if it 

     were hot and dry. 

     

          I closed my eyes to the hot mid day sun as I ran my fingers over 

     my sweat matted pubic hair keeping just far enough from my most 

     sensitive places so as not to trigger a premature orgasm. I began to 

     realize after only a couple of minutes of this, that I wasn't large 

     enough to be far enough from sensitive places and still touch myself. 

     Everywhere I touched my body brought a short breath and a little 

     pleasure spasm to remind me how excited I was. I could actually hear 

     my juices of arousal dripping on the dry leaves beneath me. Only the 

     thought of how much greater my climax would be if I just waited a 

     little longer, kept me from jerking myself into orgasmic haze land 

     right then.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

          I had only rested about ten minutes but I was anxious to 

     continue with my ordeal. The wiggling of my nipple clamps caused a 

     few sharp pains to shoot into my breasts as I attached my laces to 

     the bucket handles. Although the clamps were not yet excessively 

     tight, after five hours of continuous clamping I had thought I'd be 

     in more pain than I was currently experiencing. Believe me, that 

     would change dramatically before long.

     

          The short rest had brought strength back into my arms, but the 

     hot dead summer air had done little to cool me off. My nude teenage 

     body still glistened with perspiration as I hefted the bucket and 

     began my self imposed ordeal once more. I'm unsure as to why, but I 

     again had that fleeting thought of being happened upon by someone, 

     and picturing myself trying to explain away what I was doing. By the 

     way, it actually happened to me a year or so later, but I'll let the 

     story fill you in when it gets there.

     

          Forced to do a reality check by the previous brain wave, I 

     carefully looked around. Seeing or hearing nothing out of the 

     ordinary, I slipped back to my jungle fantasy land. Imagining the 

     enemy soldiers, having resolved their dispute, were again forcing me 

     to march through the steaming jungle wagering when I would collapse 

     from exhaustion. I became even more aroused as I vowed that I would 

     not give satisfaction to those filthy bastards, be imaginary or not. 

     I thought how in reality, I would make a poor slave. Although I like 

     to fantasize myself a slave, I think I'm far to turned on by defiance 

     to ever be totally submissive. I continued along, my arms beginning 

     to ache from the exertion.

     

          My mind was slipping deeper into my fantasy as I imagined the 

     soldiers having strapped a pole vertically to my back thus preventing 

     me from bending or squatting. In their cruel sadistic minds, they 

     would only be happy when I would finally lose all ability to carry 

     the weight, and I would beg in agony as my nipples were torn from my 

     breasts. Although in reality I would never put myself in a position 

     that could permanently disfigure or seriously injure me, it sure is 

     fun to imagine it.

     

          The pain in my arms was increasing sharply. Knowing from my 

     position it would take at least fifteen more minutes to reach the 

     pump house, I tried to walk a bit faster. It wasn't but a minute or 

     so when I found this to be harder on my arms than walking at a normal 

     pace, so I slowed back down. This is how athletes must feel, I 

     thought to myself noticing how well defined my arm muscles had become 

     from the long exertion. Having been born minus the sports gene, 

     athletics had never interested me, but it now occurred to me athletes 

     probably get their rocks off from the pain the same as me. I was sure 

     I was right. I'll bet they really wear those plastic crotch guards so 

     not to accidently start playing with themselves in front of all the 

     spectators. Hell, I'm not so different after all.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

          My imaginary captors were becoming more excited also as I 

     strained with all my will in the tropical heat. The veins in my 

     slender young arms were clearly visible as I fought with every step 

     to keep my increasingly heavy bucket at waist level. The burning ache 

     that filled my arms and shoulders seemed unbearable. I could tell I 

     was rapidly losing my battle of the bucket when I caught sight of the 

     old pump house about three hundred yards ahead. Now, with my goal in 

     sight, I renewed my concentration. As hard as I tried, I just 

     couldn't keep the bucket at my waist. With about a hundred yards to 

     go, I began to whimper. Partly, I think, from exhaustion, but mostly 

     from my downwardly distending nipples doing their best to help 

     support the heavy bucket they were attached to. 

     

          I was already well into my second earth shaking orgasm when I 

     reached the pump house. If the pain searing it's way throughout my 

     heaving chest was any indication, my poor nipples must have been 

     supporting all of the buckets gravity seeking weight. There wasn't 

     enough feeling left in my tortured arms for me to tell if they were 

     helping or not as I collapsed onto the ground with my third orgasm 

     obliviating me to everything else. I felt myself losing control of my 

     bladder as the fourth climax filled my exhausted body with ecstasy. 

     From some subconscious instinct I moved my hand over my crotch only 

     to let my hot piss spray uncontrollably as yet another wonderful 

     orgasm shuddered it's way through me. Engulfed in ecstasy, I rolled 

     onto my back, my nipples, still attached to the bucket, started to 

     bleed as they dragged the heavy bucket as I rolled to my back. I 

     screamed at the top of my lungs as the unimaginable agony tore 

     through every nerve sending me into a final explosive orgasm 

     obliterating all but it's own indescribable pleasure. It seemed the 

     more the pain, the more the climax. Not wanting my orgasmic haze to 

     end, I remained motionless until I could no longer endure the fiery 

     pain from my ravaged breasts.

     

          I had no choice but to remove the clamps from my bleeding 

     nipples. I had not intended to do such severe damage to myself, but 

     still reeling from the absolutely, could not have ever imagined, most 

     wonderfulistic sexual experience of my life, it was worth it. I 

     managed to get my orgasmicly ravaged body into the pump house and 

     drank as much of the cool well water as I could. Although my mind was 

     intent on cleaning my now dirt covered sweat soaked body, my body 

     said, later on, as I fell into a much needed sleep.

     

          I awoke with a momentary attack of panic. I had blissfully 

     dreamed away the entire afternoon and the long shadows of dusk were 

     visible through the pane less pump house window. My panic lasted only 

     until the sandman had left my sleepy brain and returned to wherever 

     sand men go when they return you to reality. Actually, my feeling of 

     panic turned into one of astonishment as I surveyed my dirt and 

     debris covered body. I looked as if I had been away for a month with 

     all the pieces of dead leaves, twigs, and other assorted crapola 

     stuck to every part of my naked body. I pumped some water and as I 

     worked at cleaning myself up, my mind started working on my plans for 

     the night.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

          Fortunately, I hadn't done any permanent damage to my nipples. 

     Although they were extremely sore, a close inspection after cleaning 

     away the dried blood, revealed the clamps had only cut the flesh, not 

     torn it as I had feared. Either way, I would have no further need of 

     my clamps or weights on this day. In fact, after eating my remaining 

     sandwiches, there was nothing in my duffel bag I could think of a use 

     for, so I decided to leave it and the bucket in the pump house. I had 

     stashed a flashlight in the old pump house on an earlier excursion 

     because of a somewhat unpleasant night time woods experience 

     previously encountered. In all honesty, having forgotten to bring one 

     along again, I was relieved to find this one in working condition. 

     One must be careful when leaving battery powered items in the woods. 

     I know because I saw on TV that rabbits use them too. Fortunately, I 

     had hidden this flashlight well.

     

          The suns evening rays still illuminated the western sky as I 

     closed the door on the old pump house. The cooler evening air felt 

     good as it lightly caressed my bare skin. Very much sexually 

     satisfied from my flood of earlier orgasms, I was now in more of an 

     adventurous mood than anything else. Not that there was any real 

     danger in the woods at night. Most people who are not raised around 

     rural places think wild animals are going to attack them. There's a 

     thousand times better chance you'll win the Irish Sweepstakes twice 

     in a row, than be attacked by a wild animal. Wild animals don't like 

     people. They try every way possible to avoid people. Actually the 

     greatest danger of animal attack, is by someones abandoned house pet.

     

          I guess you could say I was feeling like taking some chances 

     that night. Not anything that could get me hurt or anything mind you. 

     Just some things I had never tried before. I started out towards a 

     public campground located a couple of miles to the northwest on the 

     shore of a small woodland lake. The excitement of my plan brought 

     goose bumps to my naked skin as the shelter of the pump house 

     disappeared behind me.

     

          A nearly full moon was rising early providing enough light that 

     I didn't have to use the flashlight. This I was happy about because I 

     didn't want to draw attention to myself moving stark naked through 

     the trees. Even a flashlight beam can be seen over several miles at 

     night. My plan was to sneak into the public campground and take a 

     swim in the lake, actually pond would be a better word, and back out 

     without being seen. This was really taking me to my limits. If you 

     have been following my tale, you know one of my worst fears is being 

     caught naked, and with nothing but a flashlight for cover, I was very 

     much naked now. Maybe deep inside I wanted to get caught. Perhaps I 

     thought it would cure my unreasonable modesty. You know, I utterly 

     envy anyone who is unafraid to let the world see them nude. After 

     all, what could be closer to total freedom than strolling down main 

     street with your tits bouncing and your pubic hairs blowing in the 

     wind for all to see.

     

     

     

 

     

                               DIARY OF CAROLYN

       

                                   Part Six

       

                                Copyright 1997

                                Skull Duggery

       

       

       

       

            My heart raced with a combination of excitement and fear 

       as I began to hear the sounds of people as I got closer to the 

       park. It was almost eleven thirty and it hadn't occurred to me 

       that there would be so many people still up and about. I crept 

       carefully closer, trying to keep out of the moonlight as much 

       as possible, when suddenly I heard the sound of children. A 

       big lump began to form in my throat as the children's voices 

       grew louder. I frantically searched for someplace to hide. 

       There was little, if any, underbrush this close to the camp 

       ground that hadn't either been cleared or beaten down by 

       campers. Although the trees were by no means sparse, none were 

       very large, and they had been pruned to seven or eight feet 

       up. I may have been slim, in fact, I'm sure there are some who 

       would have even called me skinny, but I assure you, there just 

       weren't any tree trunks in sight that would have hidden me 

       from prying eyes.

       

            The lump that occupied my throat felt like it would all 

       but choke me to death as the voices began to take the shape of 

       several small children as they became visible in the 

       moonlight. And if that wasn't bad enough, one of the little 

       fuckers was carrying a flashlight, the beam of light darting 

       about as they ran here and there between the trees. Though I 

       was sure they hadn't yet saw me, they kept coming in my 

       direction like they were following some sort of homing beacon. 

       I wondered if Murphy's Law worked as well on the Irish as on 

       the rest of us. 

       

            As they drew closer and closer, my options were quickly 

       dwindling away. One, I could turn tail and run ever so 

       silently, making no noise for them to hear gliding like a 

       gazelle through the dry leaves and twigs covering the forest 

       floor. Right, I'm sure. Two, I could just stroll on in my 

       birthday suit, walking past them without a care. Not likely. 

       Three, I could just walk up to them and say something 

       intelligent like, hi guys, ever seen a naked lady before? Nah. 

       Considering that sex and nudity were numbers eight and nine of 

       the seven deadly sins in this bible bounced country, that is 

       unless you happen to be the bible bouncer in which case bible 

       bouncing rules don't apply, these sheltered little brats would 

       go screaming back and at best, be traumatized for life. Not to 

       mention the myriad of sex crimes I would be charged with after 

       the innocent little tots were bible bounced into confessing 

       all the torture, rape, abuse, and other sorted evil deeds I 

       perpetrated on them. Bad idea.

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

            I was down to option last. Option last rated only 

       slightly above the others, but as it's name implied, left me 

       no other choice. However, this fact gave me little comfort as 

       I climbed through the sharp branches into the relative safety 

       of the nearest tree. I perched silently, and uncomfortably I 

       might add, as the little group passed beneath me. Finally the 

       lump released it's grip on my throat as the figures again 

       faded into voices as they returned from where they came. 

       Satisfied I was no longer in danger of seeing my face 

       plastered on the Post Office wall under vicious sex criminals, 

       I began to contemplate my decent. You may think me a tad 

       paranoid, and perhaps a bit sarcastic by my thoughts about 

       bible bouncers and sex crimes, but before you pass judgment, 

       think about this. Where but in our great land of the free and 

       home of the brave, can a seventeen year old boy be sent to 

       prison for having consensual intercourse with a seventeen year 

       old girl, and yet Catholic priests are unpunished for having 

       non consensual sex with five and six year old children. Put 

       that in your bible and bounce it.

       

            It may be said that what goes up, must come down. If this 

       is true, why is it always harder to climb down from something 

       than it was going up? For instance, that short branch 

       attempting to enter my vagina gave me no problem on the way 

       up. I did however, with a few added minor abrasions, 

       successfully extricate myself from the tree.

       

            My recent anxiety combined with the physical exertion of 

       playing lumberjack had caused me to moderately perspire. As I 

       squatted beneath the tree contemplating my next move, I began 

       shivering as the night air evaporated the moisture from my 

       unprotected body. The night was by no means cold, but with the 

       humidity still high, even seventy degrees can be chilly to a 

       nudist. I checked the time. Quarter past twelve. Not wanting 

       to repeat the last forty five minutes, I figured I'd wait 

       until one o'clock before continuing towards the lake. I sat 

       with my back to the base of the tree, drew my legs up to my 

       chest, wrapped my arms around them and settled back to wait.

       

            I must have fell asleep because the next thing I remember 

       was being a lot colder than I had been. As I ran my hands over 

       my body trying to get some relief from the chill, I could feel 

       all my normally invisible little body hairs sticking straight 

       out between the sandpaper like goose bumps formed on my 

       exposed flesh. A brief moment of panic cleared my thoughts as 

       I checked my watch. Ten after one. Perfect. Brushing myself 

       off as I got to my feet, I shook off the cold as much as I 

       could before starting for the lake. I don't know much about 

       astronomy, but this was one of those nights when the moon 

       seems to be in the same position in relation to the time as 

       the sun is during the day. It made everything look weird in an 

       eerie sort of way with the moon shadows bringing an almost 

       life like quality to the normally inanimate inhabitants of the 

       forest. With flashlight in hand, I headed for the lake.

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

            It may not seem very challenging to grab a skinny dip in 

       the dead of night, however, this particular site is far from 

       normal. Very few of the inland lakes in this part of the 

       country are what you would call "natural". Most started as 

       either granite or marble quarries that filled with water when 

       the quarrymen finally reached a depth sufficient to release an 

       underground water supply. As a result, most are bordered by 

       sheer rock except for where the original entrance to the 

       quarry was. In my case, the only area accessing the lake, was 

       the camp ground. Unless of course, you were to make a hundred 

       foot dive from the rock wall, in which case you would still 

       have to exit at the camp ground, and undoubtedly someone would 

       hear the splash from your hundred foot dive, and from sheer 

       curiosity be looking for the cause. So you see, not simple.

       

            Except for a few lingering camp fires, there seemed to be 

       no activity as I crept along the edge of the camp area. 

       Keeping low, I eased closer to the water's edge trying to be 

       as silent as possible. So far, so good. Fortunately, due to my 

       level of fear and excitement, my shivering had stopped making 

       it easier to avoid detection. Other than an occasional cough 

       or grunt from a sleeping camper, and the gentle lapping of the 

       lake water on the shore, all was quiet.

       

            I made my way to the point where the shore and rock wall 

       met at the water's edge. I quickly stashed my flashlight by 

       the rock wall as I was easily visible in the bright moonlight 

       if anyone happened to look my way. With the fear of detection 

       foremost in my mind, I quickly slipped into the icy quarry 

       lake. Quarry lakes are famous, or infamous depending on your 

       point of view, for their nearly constant fifty two degree 

       water. As a result, the shock from being suddenly immersed 

       naked forced an uncontrollable yelp from my lips as the icy 

       water took my breath away. Another unique thing about quarry 

       lakes, is their short beaches. So only about fifty feet from 

       shore, I became too busy treading water while trying to 

       recover from the initial shock of the cold water to notice 

       much of anything else.

       

            Being tossed naked from an iceberg in the Arctic Ocean 

       would have been less of a shock than what happened next. As my 

       body adjusted to the cold water, I was able to breath more 

       normally. I also became aware of some sort of activity in the 

       camp ground. Unsure of what was actually going on, I swam 

       quietly to spot by the rock wall about three hundred feet from 

       shore where I could still see the entire camp but was myself 

       pretty well hidden from view. Finding a hand hold at near 

       water level, I tried to figure out what was happening on 

       shore.

       

            That familiar lump began invading my throat again as I 

       could see one, then two, three, then several flashlight beams 

       darting around the camp ground. I held my watch to the 

       moonlight. It was two o'clock. Damn, what the hell are those 

       people doing?

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

            The beams of bouncing light started coming towards the 

       lake. What the fuck is happening? I thought to myself as I 

       swam further down the rock face. It looked as if the entire 

       camp was up now. They were now shinning their lights out onto 

       the lake. They're looking for me. That can't be. I was sure no 

       one had seen me. I tried to hear what they were saying but my 

       brain was starting to get cloudy as the icy water took it's 

       toll on me. I slowly moved closer, staying close to the rock 

       wall. I was starting to get really scared. It was getting more 

       difficult to move my arms and legs as my body edged closer to 

       hypothermia. Finally I could hear one understandable voice 

       over the excited mob scurrying aimlessly around the camp.

       

            She was hollering something about loosing her kid. Son of 

       a bitch, they were looking for a lost kid. As my mind 

       assembled the facts, I started to become nauseated from the 

       panic and fear this realization brought. And what made me feel 

       even worse, it had been my own yelp when entering the water, 

       that had got someone's attention. Tears streamed down my 

       cheeks as I eased along the sheer rock toward the mob of 

       hysterical fools lining the water's edge. By now the only 

       choices I had left were either to stay put and die from 

       hypothermia, or get to the beach and die from humiliation. 

       Believe it or not, I was having trouble reaching a decision.

       

            Stay of execution. You heard right, Murphy granted me a 

       stay of execution. I take back everything I have ever said bad 

       about that hard headed, trouble causing, arrogant Irishman, 

       shit, I mean kind hearted and helpful arrogant Irishman. Only 

       moments before my fate was to be sealed, the kid they thought 

       was drowned in the lake, they found wandering around right 

       along with them. They then started thanking God and they all 

       hugged the half asleep little boy as if he had just been 

       pulled from the fires of hell. At least that's what it looked 

       like. Personally, I hope they were thanking God for delivering 

       them from stupidity. Maybe next time it would occur to look in 

       the kid's bed before booking passage on the cruise to mass 

       hysteria. Still, I thought, that's a tall order even for a 

       God. Perhaps if they offered a human sacrifice? Nah.

       

            For me however, it was still not an ideal situation. It 

       looked as though everyone had retired to their various tents 

       and RV's, but they were certainly still awake, and would be 

       much longer than I could stay in the water. I needed to exit 

       this lake right now. My arms and legs had long since become 

       numb and though I knew I was still moving them as I reached 

       the waters edge, I couldn't feel a thing.

       

            Keeping very low and quiet, I crept onto the beach at the 

       same place I had entered. I was rather surprised at finding my 

       flashlight right where I left it. I thought sure someone would 

       have at least found that in their frantic search. Carefully, I 

       made my way back to the safety of the woods.

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

            The feeling started returning to my extremities before I 

       had gone very far. And along with the feeling, came the 

       inevitable violent convulsions suffered by anyone whose core 

       body temperature has ever gotten as low as mine was. This 

       however, was a new experience for me. Actually, referring to 

       my next hour as an experience, would have been like referring 

       to Hiroshima as a fireworks display. 

       

            Unless you have ever had the ill fate of having become 

       hypothermic, your wildest nightmares are pale in comparison 

       to what I am about to describe. In all my self imposed or 

       otherwise tortures and ordeals, before or since, were no worse 

       than removing a splinter compared to what I suffered that 

       night. 

       

            Did I say violent convulsions? Violent does not begin to 

       describe hypothermic convulsions. First, I'll give you a few 

       simple facts to help you understand what happens. One, normal 

       body temperature, as I'm sure you already know, is ninety 

       eight point six degrees. Two, the most energy consuming task 

       your body has is to maintain that temperature. Three, muscles 

       produce heat. The harder they work, the more the heat they 

       produce. Four, the more the body tries to rise above it's 

       normal temperature, the more you sweat so that the effect of 

       evaporative cooling will keep the temperature normal. In fact, 

       only a two or three degree rise will make you sweat bullets.

       

            Keep in mind, more muscles, more heat. When your body 

       temperature becomes ten or fifteen degrees to low, and stays 

       that way long, your body dies. Your body does not want to die. 

       Regardless of what you may want, your body is going to do 

       everything possible to get it's temperature back to normal. A 

       body is mostly water. In my case about one hundred fifteen 

       pounds. That is roughly fifteen gallons of water. Now, imagine 

       how much heat it would take to raise the temperature of 

       fifteen gallons of water fifteen degrees in one hour. Lastly, 

       imagine how hard every last muscle in your body would have to 

       work to produce that much heat. Result, violent convulsions.

       

            The only possible bright side to any of this was that I 

       had managed to get out of earshot of the campers before being 

       disabled by the convulsions. Good thing because for the next 

       hour or so, I was completely and utterly unable to control 

       anything I did. For all I know, the forest may have vibrated 

       with my screams of agony. I do know however, that at sometime 

       during my convulsive state, I let loose of all my bodily 

       functions. 

       

            When the agonizing convulsions finally turned to more 

       normal teeth chattering shivers, I began to assess my 

       situation. My front was covered with vomit mixed with dirt, 

       leaves, twigs and other such debris. Judging from the smell, I 

       had also shit myself and apparently rolled in it. It was four 

       thirty in the morning and I was a good two hours from home. I 

       was half frozen to death, butt naked and covered head to toe 

       with piss, shit, puke and who knows what else. I must be the 

       stupidest bitch alive. When I do get home, I think I'll just 

       spend the day sticking pins in my tits to remind me of the 

       fact.



                                DIARY OF CAROLYN

       

                                   Part Seven

       

                                 Copyright 1997

                                  Skull Duggery

       

       

       

       

            At this point, I would have done almost anything for a hot 

       shower and a bar of soap. I considered going back to the lake to 

       at least wash the crap off, but seeing how that damn lake was the 

       reason for my current predicament, I decided to try to make the 

       pump house. I absolutely begged for sunrise as I shook and 

       shivered my way along in the damp cold predawn air. I felt like 

       cursing Murphy, but held my tongue just to play it safe. After 

       all, as miserable as I now was, the fucker, oops, I mean fine 

       fellow, did save from the campers. Instead, I cursed myself for 

       not being able to just have walked up on that beach and proudly 

       strolled right by those foolish bastards. As I looked at my crap 

       covered body and smelled the rancid odor emanating from it, I 

       thought, who am I calling foolish?

       

            The sun's fiery ball had the first finger hold on it's daily 

       climb over the eastern horizon as I came within sight of the old 

       pump house. With the opportunity to clean the now dried on 

       excrement from myself only steps away, my spirits began to lift. 

       That was, until the thought of pouring the icy well water over my 

       already near frozen body entered my foggy brain. Oh well, 

       compared to my agonies so far, I told myself it would be like a 

       walk in the park. No pun intended.

       

            It was more like a walk through the pricker bushes, but, 

       after much effort, I transformed myself from Carolyn the human 

       cesspool back to Carolyn the closet nudist and sometimes pain 

       slut. The sun had by now cleared the horizon and the warm early 

       morning rays filtered through the treetops forming little dancing 

       dots of light on the forest floor. As I squatted by the east wall 

       of the pump house, trying to take advantage of every bit of 

       warmth available, I carefully looked over my cold bluish white 

       skin. I checked every part of myself I could manage looking for 

       any possible unnoticed injuries. Finding none, I then began to 

       wonder if I would have any lasting effects from the hypothermia. 

       I had experienced. I guessed not. As cold as I had been, in 

       reality, it had been a fairly warm night. Although I had intended 

       to head straight for home after cleaning up, the warm sun felt so 

       good I decided to stay awhile and rest.

       

            It was close to noon when I awoke with a start, hearing what 

       sounded like footsteps somewhere on the other side of the pump 

       house. My familiar lump returned along with that sinking feeling 

       that accompanies fear as I tried to imagine what it was. I 

       frantically looked for anything I could use to cover my nudity, 

       but there was nothing. Images of everything from little kids to 

       forest rangers to space aliens raced through my mind until a 

       telltale pungent odor found it's way to my nostrils. Skunk. 

       Relief instantly overcame my anxiety as I peeked around the 

       corner of the pump house only to find one of nature's smelliest 

       creatures, with the possible exception of me as the human 

       cesspool, foraging for it's breakfast. I carefully gathered what 

       I had stashed the day before and left the busy little skunk to 

       his task.

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

            I started to feel much better as I walked the next hour to 

       the woods edge. With the filth cleaned off, and the shivering 

       cold only an unpleasant memory, I took my sweet time getting to 

       where I had hidden my clothes. Even so, it seemed like no time 

       before I was picking my old dress from under the tree where I had 

       left it. As I shook the leaves off the dress, I had a crazy 

       thought. I pondered this thought for a couple of minutes before 

       making up my mind. Do it. I stuffed my dress into the duffel bag 

       and headed completely nude across the open field to my house. I 

       felt really brave as I exposed myself for all to see. Of course 

       there was no one within eyesight to expose to, but I can imagine, 

       can't I? And besides, I thought to myself as I entered the empty 

       house, it's a start. Never before today had I had enough courage 

       to cross that field naked, day or night.

       

            I spent the next couple of hours soaking in a hot bath going 

       over in my mind my not so much fun lake ordeal. The strange thing 

       is, even with all the nasty extremes I was forced to endure, 

       having overcome it all made me tingle inside. In fact, with a 

       little help from the detachable shower head my dad had installed, 

       I tingled myself into a not so bad orgasm. Then I thought, I'm 

       the only one who uses this upstairs bath. I wonder why my dad 

       installed this great toy. Could he be more aware than I think?

       

            I made several more excursions that summer, but none were 

       truly extraordinary until after I'd begun my senior year. Being a 

       senior was great. Especially if you had enough graduation points 

       accumulated. I did. You may think I do some weird and dumb shit, 

       but for what it's worth, the last IQ test I was given scored one 

       hundred sixty. Not bad for an almost eighteen year old pain slut.

       

            To explain briefly how these points work, you get points for 

       each course that you pass all through high school. The number of 

       points needed to graduate are figured on an average students 

       capability to accumulate by the end of their senior year. If one 

       is fortunate enough to keep their grades high, and take a few 

       extra courses, the only courses they have to attend during their 

       senior year are those considered mandatory. Therefore, in my 

       case, from noon Thursday until Monday, no school. I also had 

       Wednesday afternoon off and if I really had something going, I 

       could always skip Thursday.

       

            Before I tell you of my next encounter, I need to preface it 

       with a little background. There was a girl in my class named 

       Kristen Castillo. Although we had been classmates since, I think, 

       fifth grade, other than occasional greetings and seeing her at 

       various school activities, we had no other contact. Actually, not 

       unlike myself, Kristen pretty much kept to herself. 

       

            I did know that Kristen's family kept her from much dating, 

       at least according to most reliable gossip, and in this case it 

       was. Apparently for cultural reasons, of which I will never 

       understand or agree with, she was not allowed to date boys not of 

       Latin decent as was she. Hammond Indiana was and is the epitome 

       of white America, leaving her little to chose from.

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

            In fact, other than Robert Vega, who reminds me of that 

       little gang leader, Jesus I think was his name, that played on 

       Hill Street Blues, she had dated only one other. I don't think 

       this guy met with family approval as they broke up before he got 

       out of the hospital. It's a sad situation because Kristen falls 

       into that enviable category of drop dead good looking. At any 

       rate, both Kristen and I ended up being volunteered to write the 

       script for the senior play. Which, by the way, neither of us were 

       too happy about. I doubt they censor letters from San Quentin as 

       carefully as they did our script. I did however, manage to get 

       one of the actors to substitute the word fuck for luck in the 

       performance for a small fee. It didn't cause much fuss, but gave 

       me a good measure of personal satisfaction.

       

            I got the shock of my life one afternoon while we were 

       working on our script. It happened when I accidently bumped head 

       on into Kristen while paying absolutely no attention where I was 

       walking. Kristen, being a good head shorter than me, ended up 

       ramming her boobs straight into my rib cage. What I felt when we 

       impacted, were two hard, and oddly familiar I might add, metal 

       like objects on her breasts. And, I would probably have passed it 

       off to my over active imagination, had it not been for look of 

       pain that briefly crossed her face. I couldn't believe what I was 

       thinking could be true. I had to somehow find out for sure. I 

       mean, gawd, even I had never wore my nipple clamps to school!

       

            Until this moment, I had never even considered that there 

       could be someone else with the same weird attraction to pain as 

       myself. And this girl comes to school with her nipples clamped. 

       That was pretty extreme even by my standards. I looked at Kristen 

       every chance I had wondering if she realized I was on to her. She 

       didn't act any different or anything. The thought of her being 

       into the same things as me had me ready to explode. After what 

       seemed like hours of trying to think of ways to approach her, 

       something my father once said kept coming to mind. "If you want 

       to know something, just ask. The worst that can happen is you may 

       get told to fuck off." My dad always gave good advice.

       

            So, armed with my measure of parental advice, I whispered 

       into Kristen's ear. "I'm impressed, I never tried wearing mine in 

       school." At first she gave me this real startled look. Then, 

       realizing exactly what I meant, she started looking embarrassed. 

       "It's all right," I told her, "I'm into the same thing myself." 

       As we talked, she became less and less embarrassed. We found that 

       until now, neither of us had ever talked with anyone about our 

       private pleasures. I was fascinated by what she described having 

       done to herself, some of which made me wince at the thought. I 

       had never considered myself to be any slouch when it came to 

       standing pain, but if what I was hearing was true, Kristen gave 

       new meaning to the word. We spent the rest of that school day 

       relating our experiences to each other. As we parted after the 

       last bell, Kristen agreed to come to my house the next morning 

       saying she wanted to show me some neat stuff. As I walked home, I 

       wondered what I had got myself into this time.

       



                                DIARY OF CAROLYN

                                   Part Eight

        

                                 Copyright 1997

                                  Skull Duggery

        

        

        

        

             For, what I had thought until today, a shy little latino 

        girl, some of what Kristen had told me left me in awe. Like I 

        said, I've done some things to myself that caused enough pain 

        to nearly pass out from, but I was having trouble imagining the 

        level of pain she talked about. Of course, so far it was just 

        that, talk. She could be full of shit. Then again, if she was 

        just blowing smoke, why did she agree to come to my house. The 

        whole thing was happening too fast. If she was for real, she'd 

        expect me to do whatever she did. I couldn't let her show me 

        up, yet I didn't like to be forced into anything. Especially if 

        it could do any lasting damage. Five hours ago, playing torture 

        games with one of my classmates would have been number one 

        thousand on the ten most unlikely things to do list. I half 

        thought about canceling the deal, but I was the one who 

        actually made the first move. Just at that point, I remembered 

        another little ditty my dad told me. "Always make sure your 

        brain is in gear before you dump the clutch." I then remembered 

        it was Wednesday night. My father would be home. I wondered 

        what he'd say if I just laid it all out to him and asked his 

        advice? I could hear myself now. "Guess what dad? I just wanted 

        to tell you that for the last few years I've been a self 

        inflicting pain slut and now I want to do it with another girl 

        from school. She's a little scary and likes to hurt herself 

        real bad, so do ya think I should do it with her?" Like, I'm 

        sure.

        

             My dad woke me the next morning the same as he always did 

        when he was home. I think I upset him when he tried to make 

        some lame apology for my mother being away all the time. At 

        least he didn't look too happy when I said "Who?. You mean my 

        mother? Hell dad, I thought she'd been abducted by aliens. 

        Actually I was hoping they'd keep her." When he gave me a hug 

        and a kiss and said he'd see me Friday night, I felt like I 

        should crawl into a hole somewhere and die. If he only knew how 

        much I love and need him. Maybe he does.

        

             I lay in bed until I heard my dad's car leave. It was a 

        little after six and Kristen would be here about eight. 

        Although I rarely did it, skipping a school day was easy for 

        me. Kristen on the other hand, had to ride the bus to school 

        and then skip out so her family wouldn't find out. I decided to 

        make some breakfast. I do so much like to play in the bacon 

        grease spatters.

        

             I ate my breakfast and washed my dishes. I then gave the 

        house a quick once over not wanting to give Kristen a bad first 

        impression. It was about quarter to eight when I finished that. 

        I started upstairs to put some clothes on, but before I got to 

        my room, I stopped and thought again. I wanted to stay nude. I 

        decided however that might not be good greeting a first time 

        house guest in the buff, so I threw on a halter top and a pair 

        of cutoff jeans. 

        

        

        

        

        

        

        

        

        

        

             I no sooner got my clothes on when I heard the doorbell. 

        Kristen was half out of breath having jogged the three and a 

        half miles from the school to my house. She instantly flopped 

        herself in one of the kitchen chairs and sat there catching her 

        breath. My first surprise of the day came when I offered her 

        some coffee. As I set the cup in front of her she asked if I 

        had anything to put in it. I seldom drink coffee, and when I 

        do, I drink it black so milk and sugar hadn't occurred to me. 

        As I set down the milk and reached for the sugar Kristen said 

        between breaths, "Not that. I mean something, you know, like 

        tequila or whisky." Tequila or whisky? I had never liked 

        alcohol, so I had to think if we even had any. My dad had a 

        beer now and then, but I couldn't remember him drinking whiskey 

        ever. After a couple minutes of looking through the cupboards, 

        I came upon a bottle of very dusty and obviously well aged 

        Kentucky sour mash bourbon whisky. Sour mash? Why would anyone 

        drink sour mash? I showed it to Kristen and she lit up like a 

        bulb, blew off the dust, screwed off the cap and poured as much 

        as would fit into her coffee. It made me shudder watching her 

        drink it. I began to wonder if the secret to her pain tolerance 

        was to just get good and drunk before starting.

        

             Kristen drank two more cups of sour mash coffee before she 

        was done, and to my surprise, didn't seem to be at all affected 

        by it. It sure is amazing how little you can know about someone 

        you went to school with most of your life. One thing was for 

        sure. Before this day was gone, I would be much better 

        educated.

        

             My next surprise of the day hardly gave the first one time 

        to sink in. Kristen smiled and told me how happy she was to 

        find someone like me that shared her interests, and then 

        proceeded to give me a big hug and kiss of appreciation. Her 

        kiss however, consisted of shoving her sour mash flavored 

        tongue down my throat to what felt like half way to my toes. 

        This was NOT what I had in mind. I had to physically pry her 

        off of me to end her liposuction kiss. She had this strange 

        look of bewilderment on her face as I wiped my arm across my 

        lips. "What the fuck was that all about?" I asked in a half 

        angry tone. "Gee, I'm sorry." Kristen replied in a sheepish 

        voice. "I thought you'd like that. I didn't mean to make you 

        mad." I assured her I wasn't mad, just that I wasn't gay either 

        and it might not have been that bad if I had a little warning. 

        Then to top it off, she starts pouting and asks if I want her 

        to leave, making me feel like a total turd. Gawd, I'm such a 

        sucker sometimes.

        

             I assured her I didn't want her to leave, just that before 

        she does anything off the wall that requires me as a 

        particapant, to tell me first. I also told her that just 

        because I had never had a homosexual relationship, didn't 

        necessarily mean I would never try it. After all, to most of 

        the Bible educated boneheads in this town, gay meant happy and 

        homosexual was akin to having sex at home. We decided to go up 

        to my room and start over again.

        

        

        

        

        

        

        

        

        

        

             I assured Kristen that we would have complete privacy due 

        to my parents weird schedule. She then told me about how she 

        was always in danger of being walked in on no matter where she 

        was at her house. After she had told about some of her closer 

        encounters at home, I again realized how lucky I really was 

        having the house to myself most of the time. I wanted to take 

        my clothes off but I waited until Kristen made the first move. 

        I didn't have to wait long before she asked if it was allright 

        to get naked. 

        

             It felt weird being nude with another girl outside of the 

        gym locker room. It wasn't a bad weird, actually I found myself 

        enjoying looking at Kristen's nude body. Before today, I had 

        seen her naked, but I never really paid any special attention 

        to her. Hell, she was only one of a hundred or so in the class 

        and our gym periods were seldom the same anyway. But now we 

        were up close and personal, so to speak, and what I saw was a 

        remarkably attractive girl.

        

             She had jet black shoulder length hair with just a hint of 

        a wave to offset it's otherwise perfectly straight form. 

        Kristen was short, about five two maybe, and very petite. I'd 

        guess she weighed no more than ninety pounds but her boobs were 

        twice the size of mine. Real firm too. With dark pointy nipples 

        that looked like they had seen some recent abuse. She had sort 

        of a round face with pupils that were so black they almost had 

        a bluish tint to them. In fact I would say, I don't think I 

        have ever seen a more attractive face anywhere. Her skin was 

        only slightly darker than mine and was covered by an almost 

        invisible down that made her look sort of fuzzy the way the 

        sunlight fell across her naked outline. I found it hard to 

        picture this thin tiny girl enduring the kind of pain she had 

        told me about. She did have a superfine body though. Her legs 

        were thin enough as to leave about a two inch space between her 

        thighs and like me had a full growth of hair covering her 

        mound. I wondered what she thought about me.

        

             I had never even considered the fact that Kristen might be 

        gay or bisexual until now. I could tell by the way she looked 

        at me that with just one word of encouragement she'd be on me 

        like green on grass. I wasn't quite ready for that yet. At 

        least that's what I told myself.

        

             "Let's get started." Kristen blurted out as she proceeded 

        to dump the contents of her back pack onto my bed. Looking over 

        her conglomeration of toys, some I'd only seen in books, 

        brought back my feeling of apprehension. Kristen must have 

        noticed the look on my face because before I could say anything 

        she reassured me that she wouldn't do anything to me I didn't 

        want. She then added that when I was doing her, to do what she 

        said as well. Her next statement however, awakened that little 

        voice that sometimes tries to warn your brain before it lets 

        you do stupid shit, you know, the one you never listen to. She 

        told me that no matter how bad I might think she's hurting, if 

        she tells me more, I was to do it, no questions. Then for 

        toppers, she asked if I was sure no one would be able to hear 

        us. I assured her we were the only ones for a couple of miles 

        in any direction. My little voice kept repeating the same five 

        words, girl,"you are fuckin nuts," over and over.

        

        

        

        

        

        

        

        

        

             Kristen introduced me to the breast press first. There was 

        one for each breast. She had brought four. Somehow I didn't 

        think they were all for her. They looked homemade but were also 

        well made. Now realizing I wasn't the only young girl who 

        frequented the hardware store, I wondered how many there really 

        were. Anyway, they were simple devices. Each one consisted of 

        two twelve by two inch round wooden dowels with threaded rods 

        passing through holes at either end. How they operated was 

        obvious. Kristen wanted to go first, so I placed the first one 

        on her left breast and tightened the wing nuts until I was sure 

        it would stay on. I then repeated the process on her other 

        breast. She then told me to tighten them up. I screwed the one 

        on her right breast, first one side then the other until she 

        said to stop. I then did the other breast the same. Both tits 

        were bulging like a couple of melons before she told me to 

        quit. My turn next.

        

             Kristen repeated the process on me. Although my breasts 

        were smaller than hers, they were plenty big enough to get a 

        good grip on. I let her continue tightening the screws until 

        mine were also bulging and starting to hurt pretty bad. Kristen 

        then wanted me to tighten her's up more. I started with her 

        left breast. I kept screwing until I thought her tit was going 

        to explode. I then did the same with the right breast. One look 

        at her face told me she had to be in excruciating pain. The 

        veins in her neck protruded from the strain, but she just 

        clenched her teeth and never made a sound. 

        

             I was beginning to think she was in shock, but it was me 

        who almost went into shock when she told me to take one more 

        turn on each of the screws. It took most all the strength I had 

        to get another turn on the wing nuts. The skin covering her 

        swollen breasts was so tight, I swear I think if I were to 

        puncture one, she'd fly around the room like a deflating 

        balloon. The hardwood dowels were actually bending from the 

        tension and her once attractive young breasts were turning 

        almost purple from the pressure. The agony she must have been 

        in was beyond my imagination. I was totally sure that at any 

        second she would begin screaming and begging me to unscrew the 

        clamps and stop what must feel like red hot sledge hammers 

        raining down on her exploding tits. 

        

             I am sure that I felt my jaw bounce off the floor when 

        Kristen finally did speak. Instead of begging me with pain 

        filled eyes, she only wanted to know if I were going to finish 

        tightening my clamps or did I want her to do it for me? 

        

             "Uh..., I guess so." I replied half heartedly, still a bit 

        dumbstruck watching her swollen and obviously excruciatingly 

        pain filled breasts turn steadily darker in color. "Ready?" 

        Kristen asked. "Now be sure to tell me when to stop." I wanted 

        to say stop right then, but again ignoring my little voice, I 

        nodded for her to begin.

        

        

        

        

        

        

        

        

        

        

             Kristen began slowly compressing my already throbbing 

        tits. As the pain steadily increased with each turn of a wing 

        nut, I kept wanting to say stop. For whatever reason, foolish 

        pride, or just not wanting to be bested, I let her continue as 

        I watched my B cup breasts turn into discolored balloons. As I 

        felt the tears begin to trickle down my cheeks from the ever 

        increasing pain, I knew I was near my limit. I closed my eyes 

        and tried to think of something, anything other than the 

        searing pain in my poor tortured breasts. I couldn't. The pain 

        was just to intense. As hard as I tried, and as much as I 

        wanted to, I just couldn't stand any more. "Stop!" 

        

             Kristen immediately obeyed and stood back to admire her 

        work. I looked down in disbelief at my bulging pain filled 

        mammaries that appeared at least four times their original 

        size. The pain was different somehow than pain I had felt 

        before. This pain didn't seem to stimulate me like other pain. 

        This just hurt. And hurt like bloody hell! I couldn't believe 

        how Kristen could just stand there watching me. She had to be 

        in as much pain as me and I didn't know from one minute to the 

        next how much longer I could hold on. "Too much for you?" 

        Kristen tauntingly inquired. "I think so." I replied as I 

        looked at the now deep purple balls of fire protruding 

        obscenely from my chest. "Can I kiss you?" I heard Kristen ask. 

        I don't think I really wanted her to but the pain I was in was 

        so overwhelming my thoughts that I agreed.

        

             Kristen went to kiss me when our rock hard swollen breasts 

        bumped together and I almost passed out as what was already 

        unbearable agony jumped to more than I could stand. I just 

        couldn't take anymore. I frantically began to unscrew the wing 

        nuts on my clamps as fast as I could. The incredible pain had 

        been so intense I was actually having trouble catching my 

        breath. Seeing I was having trouble, Kristen helped me finish 

        removing the clamps as I lay back on my bed still catching my 

        breath. I felt sick as I looked at my once firm young breasts 

        hang to my sides, still distended and purple colored. At least 

        the screaming pain was now only a hard ache. That was soon to 

        change.

        

             My relief from the pain lasted only a few precious 

        seconds. As the blood began to again circulate through my 

        severely abused tits, the pain started to increase. I tried to 

        massage my poor aching breasts but it only seemed to make the 

        pain worse. I don't think I passed out, but the next thing I 

        remember was feeling something cool on my chest. It felt really 

        good. I opened my eyes to find Kristen had put some wet towels 

        on my breasts and was laying on the bed beside me. I also 

        noticed she had removed her breast clamps and had put wet 

        towels on her breasts as well. We both lay motionless on the 

        bed for I'm not sure how long, but I must have dosed off again 

        because my next memory is of Kristen slowly running her hand 

        over my bare skin. She was lightly letting her fingers slide up 

        and down, barely touching the bottom of my breasts at one end 

        and going down and barely touching my uppermost pubic hairs. 

        All of my instincts told me to make her stop. I did want her to 

        stop. I did. Really I did. Shut up little voice.

        

                

       

       

       

            Damn it felt so good. My little voice kept telling my brain 

       to stop me from letting this happen, but it just felt so damn 

       good. I lay motionless feeling her fingers carress my skin as she 

       slowly moved her hand up and down. I didn't want to give Kristen 

       any ideas that I wanted her to do this to me, but I found myself 

       secretly hoping each time her fingers touched the top of my pubic 

       hairs, that she wouldn't start back up so fast. I could feel my 

       clitoris harden each time she touched my hair. Again and again 

       she would stop as soon as her fingers touched the very top of my 

       thick bush. Her hand was moving down again. Waiting...waiting, I 

       felt her touch my uppermost hairs. I had to fight the urge to 

       buck my hips. My clit was tingling with excitement. Gawd! I was 

       on the verge of orgasm. Her hand was moving down again. As hard 

       as I tried to fight it, I couldn't stop from raising my hips. 

       Just a little. Maybe she won't notice. I really should tell her 

       to stop but if she'd only touch my clit. Just a little. Please. 

       Kristen! Read my mind! Her hand started back up. Shit! I felt 

       like I was going to explode. What's wrong with her? My clit felt 

       like it was standing straight up, can't she see it? God damnit, 

       you fuckin bitch, touch me, please! Her hand started back down. I 

       felt her fingers touch my hair. Right at that point I'd have 

       given anything if my clit would swap places with my navel. Wait. 

       Hold that thought. I felt her fingers probe deeper into my 

       waiting pubic hairs. Slowly she moved her slender fingers through 

       the thick carpet. Closer...closer. I tried to will my bulging 

       clitoris to bend back and touch her finger. One finger, any 

       finger. Closer... I felt her finger touch the foreskin. I was so 

       wet I could feel the dampness soaking into the bed spread under 

       my buttocks. At last! She started to make a slow circle around my 

       throbbing clit with her finger but I'm sure I bucked her off the 

       bed before she got half way around. I have not a clue how long it was 

       before I returned from whatever dimension that kind of mind 

       blowing orgasm sends you to, but if by chance there really is a 

       heaven, I was just there. I wonder why Kristen is sprawled on the 

       floor with that big shit eating grin on her face?

       





                                DIARY OF CAROLYN

                                    Part Nine

       

                                 Copyright 1997

                                  Skull Duggery

       

                            This is a work of fiction

       

       

       

       

            As my sense of reality began to overcome the orgasmic cloud 

       surrounding my brain, it occurred to me why Kristen was on the 

       floor. I faintly remembered putting her there with the wild 

       bucking of my hips, but it somehow seemed like it happened in 

       another life. "I've never seen anyone cum as hard as you just 

       did." Kristen said with a look of wide eyed amazement. She was 

       obviously very pleased with herself at having driven me to such a 

       mind numbing orgasm. To be perfectly honest, I was very pleased 

       with her too. "Did you like it?" she asked. Like it? Hell, I was 

       still trying to find my toes. "Yes, I liked it. I liked it very 

       much." was about all I could give her for a reply. Kristen's face 

       lit up even more than it was. "I'll make you cum again, if you 

       want me to." she spoke in a soft voice. I thought for a minute 

       and then replied, "I don't know if I could stand another one like 

       that without losing my mind. Besides, I feel a little guilty 

       having all the fun." "You're not." Kristen assured me as she got 

       up off the floor and sat beside me on the bed. "You may not have 

       known it, but I came the same time you did. I really like making 

       you cum. Please let me do it again." After the orgasm I think I 

       was still having, that was most certainly an offer I couldn't 

       refuse.

       

            Kristen started to kiss me. This was nothing like the first 

       kiss she gave me in the kitchen. This time she was very gentle, 

       probing my tongue with hers while rubbing her soft pubic hair on 

       my thigh. It felt so weird, so unnatural being touched and kissed 

       by another girl, yet at the same time so unbelievably wonderful. 

       This was really fantastic. She then slowly started to move down. 

       First kissing my neck then as she began kissing my erect nipples 

       I could feel myself shudder as she lightly flicked her tongue 

       back and forth over the very tips of my ever so sensitive flesh. 

       Kristen must have sensed how excited I was getting. She moved 

       ever so slowly down. Carefully licking the tender undersides of 

       my breasts. The sensation was driving me wild. I began to feel my 

       stomach muscles spasm as she ran her tongue slowly down my belly, 

       stopping to make a few circles around my navel, all the while 

       squeezing and then flicking my rock hard nipples with her 

       fingers. When I felt her tongue start to lick the very top of my 

       thick pubic hair, I began to realize what she was intending to 

       do. I might have resisted as this was something I hadn't really 

       thought over, but with the indescribable pleasures this girl was 

       inflicting on my naked body, even I couldn't be that foolish.

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

            As Kristen continued to lick her way closer and closer to my 

       waiting clitoris, a troubling thought kept crossing my mind. I 

       knew she would want me to do the same for her as she had so very 

       well done for me. Could I do it? Laying here with my closed eyes 

       being fulfilled with the feelings of ecstasy given to me by 

       another girl was one thing, but could I give her the same in 

       return? I jerked as her tongue slipped inside my folds. Could I 

       put my tongue into her vagina and swallow her juices like she was 

       now doing for me? My hips began to rise instinctively as I felt 

       the flat of her tongue getting closer to my clitoris. I could 

       feel her moving my thick pubic hair aside exposing my clit to her 

       probing tongue. Then, as her tongue engulfed my throbbing clit, 

       she squeezed my nipples between her fingernails as hard as she 

       could sending daggers of pain through my breasts throwing me into 

       several wonderful orgasms. Every muscle I had strained as wave 

       after wave racked my body with pleasure. My body continued to 

       shudder with pleasure while Kristen licked at the cum juice still 

       flowing abundantly obviously enjoying my flavor.

       

            I felt exhausted. Never before had I experienced so many 

       orgasms in so short a time. The room even seemed to spin as I lay 

       there trying to comprehend just what had happened to me. I 

       started to think about Kristen again, how unbelievably wonderful 

       she had made me feel. How could I possibly give her the same 

       level of pleasure I was feeling. Before today, I had barely 

       thought of making love with another girl, let alone figure out 

       ways to do it. "That was wonderful." I said as I looked over at 

       my unexpected but amazing lover. "I'm not sure how good I'll be, 

       but," still unsure I paused a moment, "if you want, I'll make 

       love to you." Kristen gave a look of concern as she replied, "Are 

       you sure, I mean, you don't have to or anything." I thought about 

       how what started as a torture session had turned into my first 

       taste of lesbian love and how great so far it had been. I still 

       wasn't totally comfortable with the idea, but if for no other 

       reason than to repay her for the intense pleasure she had given 

       me, I had to at least try. "I want to," I told her as I caressed 

       her cheek, "I'm not to sure if I can do as well as you, but I'd 

       like to try." Kristen's face lit up like a bulb. Then, laughingly 

       as she lay spread eagle on her back she replied, "I promise not 

       to complain."

       

            I spent a few minutes just kissing Kristen and running my 

       hand over her like she had done with me. I then slowly started 

       licking the soft skin of her firm round breasts, purposely 

       teasing her by not touching her nipples. I also teased her by 

       burying my hand in her soft thick pubic hair, running my fingers 

       up and down both sides of her clitoris being careful not to touch 

       it. Unlike myself, Kristen made no effort to control her rising 

       excitement. She was already bucking her hips wildly, her swollen 

       clitoris franticly trying to make contact with my hand. I 

       wouldn't let that happen. She let out a loud moan of frustration 

       as she bucked even higher desperately trying for that one 

       momentary contact that she knew would send her into orgasm.

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

            I couldn't believe how easily she became excited. I also was 

       surprised at how much I enjoyed getting her that way. When I 

       figured I had teased enough, I worked my way into a position 

       where I could do what I suspected she would really like. Then, 

       without giving her any warning, I slipped my teeth over her left 

       nipple and as I bit down hard I also squeezed her very erect clit 

       between my fingernails as hard as I could. Kristen let out a 

       blood curdling scream as she was overcome by one mega orgasm 

       after another. I continued to squeeze and pull her sensitive 

       clitoris as hard as I could as she begged me not to stop between 

       screams. I too began to climax from the thought of how much her 

       clit must hurt. The more she begged, the harder I pulled and 

       twisted her sensitive clitoris. As I reached my own climax, I dug 

       my fingernail deep into the base of her clit and pulled sharply 

       upward with all my strength. I knew I had to be causing her 

       terrible agony but I continued to dig and pull until she was 

       nearly unconscious from the sheer number of orgasms it caused. 

       When it was finally over, we both lay exhausted, our bodies 

       glistening with perspiration, holding each other tightly.

       

            It was well after noon when we recovered from our climactic 

       exhaustion. Neither of us wanted the day to end but Kristen had 

       to get back to the school in time to catch her bus. It was hard 

       for me to imagine having to be worried because my family was 

       always checking up on me, as did she. I kind of felt sorry for 

       Kristen, or was I feeling sorry for myself because she had to go, 

       I wasn't sure. At any rate I helped her load up her back pack, 

       reassuring each other we would have many more days like this in 

       the near future.

       

            I watched Kristen jog away into the distance still feeling 

       aroused from what had been one of the most memorable experiences 

       to date. I decided to take a bath and think of how I wanted to 

       spend the rest of the day. Perhaps it was because of the intense 

       pleasure of my first time lesbian experience, but I wanted to do 

       something new to myself. Suspension came to mind. Recently I had 

       been thinking of ways to suspend myself by my wrists for a long 

       enough period of time to make it extremely painful, but also so I 

       would be able to release myself before I was happened upon by one 

       or both of my parents. Also, even though I wanted it to be of 

       considerable torture, hanging for perhaps two or three days was 

       out of the question.

       

            This was not an easy problem to solve. I had to come up with 

       some sort of plan or device that would somehow free me after a 

       preset length of time but that couldn't be activated early by me. 

       Not having the option to stop the torture in the event it became 

       too painful for me always added to the excitement. I will admit 

       though, there have been times when in various self contrived 

       tortures, I would have at the time gladly traded the excitement 

       for access to a stop button.

       

       

       

       end of pt 9

                                DIARY OF CAROLYN

                                    Part Ten

     

                                 Copyright 1997

                                  Skull Duggery

     

                           This is a work of fiction.

     

     

     

     

          I've been told I have a mechanical mind. I assume they mean that 

     in the context of the ability to understand how mechanical things 

     work, not literally. I hope. They are probably right, as it has 

     always been easy for me to figure ways of making most any device I 

     need from various odds and ends. I guess you could say I was a good 

     improviser with the ability to also fabricate what I improvised. This 

     time, however, I really had my brain smoking before I was able to 

     arrive at a solution. My main problem was the timer. I had estimated 

     that three to four hours would be about as long as I could stand 

     being suspended by my wrists. So I needed a six hour timing device. 

     After considering several options, the one thing that was both 

     practical and also dependable was ice. Ice was strong, easy to 

     obtain, and was sure to melt. Deciding on what to use for a timer was 

     the easy part, how to use wasn't.

     

          I had planned to set everything up in the storage room. This was 

     actually an old work shop attached to the kitchen hallway. There was 

     a stout beam running across the ceiling that at one time must have 

     been used to hoist up machinery or such that was the perfect height 

     for my purpose. I had worked out my method, but it was as yet 

     untested. My plan was to hook two elastic bunji cords to an old 

     stool. I then would attach a length of clothes line to the opposite 

     side of the stool. I would then run the line out and over an old saw 

     horse and attach it to this old wooden bucket with a hole in the 

     bottom. Filling the bucket with ice cubes would pull the stool and 

     then as the ice melted the bunji cords would pull it back. Therefore, 

     if I was to fill the bucket, then pull the stool to where the bucket 

     was hanging by the clothes line, I could then stand on it to hold it 

     in place. I could then attach myself to the beam, lift my legs, the 

     bucket would drop to the floor pulling the stool out from under me. 

     This would leave me hanging by my wrists until enough ice melted to 

     allow the bunji cords to pull the stool back to where I would be able 

     to stand on it again. I would try this out today.

     

          I made sure all the doors were locked before I began setting 

     things up. As per normal, I had that nagging thought of having to 

     explain why I was hanging nude from the ceiling if someone accidently 

     found me. It was nearly dusk before I was ready to proceed with my 

     first experience in suspension. I double checked all of my apparatus 

     to be sure I wouldn't still be hanging from the beam when my father 

     came home the next night. Satisfied all was in order I positioned the 

     stool and stepped up on it. I had wrapped small towels around my 

     wrists to soften the grip of the rope I had chosen. Also, I didn't 

     want to go around with red chafe marks on my wrists for the next 

     week. I put three turns of rope on each wrist before tying the rope 

     off for some added support. Hoping that I had figured right on 

     everything, I hoisted myself up a little and lifted my feet off the 

     stool. So far so good. The bucket of ice did just as it was supposed 

     to pulling the stool about three feet from where it was. I was now 

     committed.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

          With the successful operation of my stool apparatus, any 

     apprehension I was feeling disappeared. Everything seemed to be going 

     as planned. My wrists were fairly comfortable with the towels keeping 

     the ropes from digging into my skin. Also, I was reasonably certain 

     by the use of multiple coils around my wrists, I would maintain 

     circulation into my hands. According to the old wall clock I had 

     wound and set earlier, it was nine o'clock. If all went according to 

     my plan I could expect the return of the stool by no later than three 

     in the morning, possibly sooner depending on the melt rate of the ice 

     cubes. So far I was in no discomfort whatsoever, in fact it felt good 

     just hanging there. 

     

          By nine thirty my shoulders were starting to ache, but I could 

     relieve the pain by changing my position by pulling myself up by one 

     arm and then the other. I knew however, this method wouldn't work 

     very long as my muscles were already tired. I was still not concerned 

     because judging by my perspiration after only thirty minutes or so, 

     it was warm enough to melt the ice faster than I had originally 

     figured on. Ten o'clock. I felt like I had gained fifty pounds. My 

     body felt like so much dead weight hanging from my arms and I was in 

     a lot more pain than I thought I would be this early on. I could see 

     my reflection in the glass of the one outside window and my body 

     looked really great suspended like I was. The strain gave a good 

     definition to my muscles and with the coating of perspiration made me 

     look like an athlete. I could easily count every rib as my skin 

     stretched taught over my rib cage. I also liked the way my normally 

     flat stomach actually curved in a little making my pubic bush even 

     more prominent than usual. I still couldn't understand why so many of 

     my classmates either trimmed or shaved their pubic hair. Don't get me 

     wrong, I'm not into the natural look or anything. I always keep my 

     underarms and legs neatly shaved. I also shave any straggling hairs 

     that may pop up on my inner thighs, I do like to be neat. Perhaps if 

     my breasts were larger my pubic hair wouldn't be so important to me, 

     but I look at it this way. When I was twelve years old I was a little 

     girl. I couldn't wait to grow into a woman. The two main things that 

     physically separate little girls from women are boobs and pubic hair. 

     So, now that I finally have what I waited so long for, why the hell 

     would I want to make myself look like a little girl again? Although I 

     am still far to modest to show my bush off, I am very proud of it. 

     Hopefully, I will someday get the courage to bare it for all to see.

     

          Ten thirty. I no longer had the strength to change my position 

     so the pain in my arms and shoulders was now constant and steadily 

     increasing as time wore on. Admiring my reflection in the window had, 

     however, kept my mind occupied for a while. Reflection in the window. 

     Reflection in the window. Why did something seem wrong with that. 

     Reflection, my body's reflection in the window. I can see my 

     completely naked body reflecting in the window. SHIT! My fucking 

     heart almost stopped when the problem became apparent. It was dark 

     outside. It was light inside. That means, anyone outside could see 

     every inch of me by just looking through the window. SHIT! How could 

     I be so stupid? How could I have totally ignored something so obvious 

     as this. It also occurred to me that although I was visible to anyone 

     outside, anything outside was invisible to me. SHIT!

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

          My mind was racing with possibilities. If anyone was watching me 

     I wouldn't know. SHIT! There could be more than one. There could be 

     ten, a hundred, a thousand, even millions of people watching me 

     hanging naked from this beam. Gawd! I've never felt so naked in my 

     life. Hell, the channel seven news team could be out there and I 

     wouldn't know it. I was sick with embarrassment.

     

          Eleven o'clock. I was trying to look at my predicament with some 

     degree of common sense. I told myself the chance of anyone actually 

     coming by and looking in the window was very unlikely. It really was 

     unlikely but when you are hanging from the ceiling, totally nude and 

     unable to actually see if someone is watching, unlikely doesn't offer 

     much comfort. There was one positive result. Between the pain, 

     embarrassment, and utter futility of my situation, I was becoming 

     considerably aroused.

     

          Eleven thirty. I kept looking at the bucket of ice cubes half 

     hoping a fire would break out and speed up the melting. I was quickly 

     reaching the point of having to admit that I may have miscalculated 

     my stamina. My shoulders felt like they were being torn from the rest 

     of my body and the unrelenting pain burned clear to my butt. One 

     thing in my favor was that it was an exceptionally warm night, and 

     from the puddle under the ice bucket, I was pretty sure I wouldn't 

     have to wait more than another couple of hours at most. I wasn't sure 

     I could stand the pain for another two hours. I also knew I had no 

     other choice. This time, I left myself with no way out. Actually, by 

     the size of the puddle of sweat under me, I began to wonder which was 

     melting faster, me or the ice.

     

          Midnight. Every minute that passed seemed like an hour. I was 

     beginning to wish there really were someone watching through the 

     window that could get me down and stop the pain. The melting ice had 

     let the stool slide toward me about six inches. It still had two and 

     a half feet to go before it would do me any good. My state of arousal 

     had even gone away. I was now in that state of despair that torture 

     victims must get when the pain is more than they can endure and all 

     they have to look forward to is more pain.

     

          Twelve thirty. If there had been anyone watching me they would 

     surely have rescued me by now. That is unless they were totally 

     sadistic, because I was now crying uncontrollably. The only thing I 

     could think about was the pain. I was actually begging for someone to 

     find me. I didn't care about the humiliation. I didn't care if I had 

     to stand nude in the town square and tell everyone what a pain slut I 

     was. I would even tell them how I made love to Kristen. Anything to 

     stop the pain. The terrible pain was so far above what I could endure 

     the only thing I cared about was for it to stop. I would even go to 

     school completely naked and tell everyone how I would walk nude 

     through the woods with lead weights hanging from my nipples and 

     pussy. I would do anything if only it would stop the pain.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

          One o'clock. I now had a new problem. The up side was the stool 

     only lacked about six inches to go. The downside was two fold. One, 

     it was a three legged stool and if I tried to step on it too soon I 

     risked tipping it over. Two, I was near the point of passing out from 

     the unrelenting pain that by now had me screaming with every breath. 

     Never in my life had I felt such desperation as I was experiencing as 

     I fought to stay conscious knowing if I just gave in the pain would 

     stop. I couldn't even fantasize about anything. I could only scream 

     and suffer the unending pain as I waited the long minutes for the 

     stool to appear under my beckoning feet.

     

          One thirty. Finally the stool was almost directly under me. I 

     now had to pick my legs up enough to step on the stool. I was already 

     hoarse from screaming as the increased pain from lifting my legs 

     drove me to scream even louder. I don't know how I stood it but I 

     did. I could finally feel my screaming pain slowly ebb away as my 

     weight transferred from my arms to my legs. Hot piss splattered on my 

     legs as my bladder emptied uncontrollably. I was so glad I had at 

     least had the foresight to use a half bow knot when I tied myself up 

     or I doubt if I could have untied the rope now. My arms fell 

     uselessly to my sides. As I stepped off the stool I felt another 

     blast of relief. I then realized if I hadn't possessed the stamina to 

     keep from passing out, I would still be hanging from the beam. 

     Without my weight on the stool, the elastic cords pulled the stool 

     another foot past where I had been. Totally exhausted, I left 

     everything as it was, made it to my bedroom and collapsed on my bed, 

     piss covered legs and all.

     

          It was nearly noon when I woke up. I was still in the same 

     position, nude, laying on my stomach with my arms at my sides. I 

     smelled of sweat and piss. Doing anything about it was a different 

     matter. All I could manage was to flop over on my back as it was 

     impossible to move my arms. I lay there for nearly half an hour 

     trying to get my arms to move with only limited results. If I never 

     learned another thing in my life, last night taught me never to put 

     myself in any situation that left me so helpless as I had been 

     hanging from that beam. It was another half hour before I managed to 

     get on my feet. My shoulders and arms ached terribly as I waited for 

     the bath tub to fill. 

     

          I must have fallen asleep as soon as I got in the hot bath 

     because the next thing I remember was hearing the phone ring. I was 

     sure the answer machine would pick up so I listened to try to hear 

     who it was. It was hard to hear but it sounded like my dad. I do have 

     a phone in my room but the answer machine was downstairs in the 

     living room. I could tell it was my dad's voice but I couldn't make 

     out what he was saying. It then occurred to me I had left everything 

     as it was in the storage room. I had to force myself from my soothing 

     bath, but I had to clean up the storage room before my dad got home. 

     Drying myself off and getting downstairs was in it's self no easy 

     task, but through sheer perserverence, and not to mention no other 

     choice, I removed all evidence of the previous night. That being 

     done, I went to replay the phone message. It was my dad telling me he 

     was on his way home. As I went to put some clothes on I thought about 

     how close I had come to be still hanging in the storage room. Thanks 

     Murf.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

          Monday came along much too soon to suit me. I still felt as if I 

     had been in a football game. In case you saw it, I was the ball. 

     Kristen, fortunately, was the only one at school that noticed my less 

     than graceful movement as I tried to hide the fact I was sore in 

     places until now didn't know I had. Of course, she was full of 

     questions and just had to know what happened. For someone whom I had, 

     for all practical purposes known less than a week, she acted like 

     we'd been best friends for life. In a way it made me a little 

     uncomfortable. Looking back on it, although Kristen had always kept 

     to herself, I think she was also very lonely. On the other hand I was 

     , and still am, more of a loner. It wasn't that I considered myself 

     better than anyone, just that I valued my privacy, and didn't always 

     care to spill my guts to whoever was interested. Don't get me wrong, 

     I liked Kristen a lot. After all, I had almost licked her crotch 

     three days before, and would many times in the weeks to come, still, 

     I found it hard to tell her about Friday night. I think also I was a 

     bit embarrassed at not taking better precautions before doing what I 

     did. However, she was persistent, and before the day was over I had 

     given her the blow by blow description.

     

          After hearing my recount of what I considered a painful lesson, 

     no pun intended, Kristen was nothing less than wildly excited by what 

     I had told her. I tried to tell her just how bad it was not being 

     able to end it when the pain became more than I could take. She 

     wasn't impressed. In fact, all she said was the fact I was telling 

     her about it meant the pain wasn't really more than I could stand, 

     otherwise I would be dead. As I was trying to understand her logic, I 

     heard my name come over the PA system. I was wanted at the office. I 

     never get called to the office. I told Kristen I'd see her later and 

     started the long walk to the office. The school office was near the 

     main entrance to the school. As I came out of the last hall into 

     entrance area, I saw my father standing by the door. My dad never 

     comes to the school. I tried to imagine what he was doing here and as 

     I got closer to him I could see he didn't look so good. I asked him 

     what was wrong but all he did was give me a big hug and then walked 

     me out to his car.

     

          What I was about to hear should have been probably the most 

     devastating words of my life. After we were in the car he said 

     nothing for the first few minutes. My imagination was running wild 

     wondering what was going on. Gawd, I thought, had the channel seven 

     news really been outside the window? Shit! Had he seen me on TV. No, 

     that couldn't be. They couldn't show that on TV. "Sweetheart, I've 

     got some real bad news." he said and then paused. "Honey, your mother 

     is dead." You may think me cold, but after what I had been thinking, 

     I was actually relieved. In fact I almost blurted out something super 

     intelligent like, gee dad, did it take you all these years to figure 

     that out? I know I should have been in tears, but, it was almost like 

     being told some unknown relative died. Maybe it needed time to sink 

     in. I kept saying the words over and over in my head. Don't 

     misunderstand, I was by no definition happy at this, I just wasn't 

     that sad either. I wanted to ask him what she died from, but I had 

     never seen my father this broken up over anything before so I kept 

     quiet as we drove home. I was sure he'd tell me soon enough.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

          We sat down at the kitchen table and my dad proceeded to tell my 

     all about what had happened. I was more hurt from seeing how 

     devastated he was than anything else. What he said next nearly 

     shocked me out of my shoes. I think I wrote earlier that my mother 

     had been away taking care of my grandmother. What I didn't say was 

     that it was my father's mother she was taking care of. My grandmother 

     on my mother's side as well as my grandfather on my father's side 

     died before I was born. "What I didn't tell you at school, Carolyn," 

     he never called me Carolyn, "was that your grandmother is dead to." 

     he was so choked up he could hardly get the words out. I couldn't 

     believe what I was hearing. "What do you mean my grandmother is dead 

     too? How could they both be dead?" My dad did his best to explain how 

     they hadn't suffered at all. I still couldn't believe they were both 

     dead. I had just seen both of them when my father and I went to my 

     grandmother's house last weekend. He went on to tell me something in 

     the furnace fucked up and filled the house with carbon monoxide while 

     they were sleeping. He said they just never woke up. I can't remember 

     the last time I sat on my dad's lap, but I spent the next hour doing 

     just that with my arms around his neck.

     

          I didn't go to school the rest of that week. Actually I had my 

     hands full helping my dad get through it. It's not bad enough that 

     one person looses a mother and the other both a mother and wife, you 

     still have to suffer with all the family vultures and the "You 

     remember me, I met you when you were only this high." mealy mouthed 

     well wishers. My dad had a lot of friends but if my mother had more 

     than two she must have kept them tied up somewhere and only brought 

     them out when no one else was around, because I've never seen them. 

     Yet, the funeral parlor was full. I had seen most of my father's 

     buddies at one time or another but there were at least twice that 

     amount of unknown mourners milling about. Why would you go to a 

     funeral for someone you didn't know? It must be for the food or the 

     party afterwards. Who knows? Maybe they just like to look at dead 

     bodies. That must be it. I'll bet they all pissed their little pants 

     when they heard there were two at this funeral.

     

          I really believe that the only people who have the right 

     attitude towards death are the Indians. Those people have the sense 

     to cut through all the bullshit that we seem to thrive on. You never 

     saw them pay three thousand dollars for a box made with twenty 

     dollars worth of wood just to stick in the ground. Whew! And we call 

     them savages? Not. 

     

          Finally, my dad and I were the only ones left. We sat where we 

     had started at the kitchen table surveying our war ravaged house. We 

     had survived the various preachers who came to drum up business, the 

     "At least they didn't suffer" crowd, the "I'm sorrys", and even the 

     "What were their names" group. In fact, the only ones that didn't 

     show up were the "I'll stick around and help clean up" people. No 

     matter. Maybe they'll come to the next one.

     

     

     end part 10





                                DIARY OF CAROLYN

                                   Part eleven

       

                                 Copyright 1997

                                  Skull Duggery

       

                           This is a work of fiction.

       

       

       

       

            It was a couple of weeks before my life got back to normal. 

       That is if you call my life normal. It was an average boring 

       Thursday in mid October and I was trying to day dream my way 

       through the last class of the week. Kristen had been bugging me 

       to come over to my house all week, but, I guess with the funeral 

       and all I just hadn't felt like doing much of anything. Maybe it 

       was her bugging or maybe it was just me, but I kept thinking 

       about our last get together and decided maybe I was ready to try 

       something with her again. We talked after class and decided to 

       set something up.

       

            I had had the chance to meet Kristen's parents since the 

       last, and only, time she had been to my house. They were nice 

       folks, but compared to mine they may as well have been prison 

       guards. Over protective doesn't come even close to their attitude 

       with Kristen. Kristen would have to skip school again in order to 

       spend Friday with me so I suggested she try to get her parents to 

       let her sleep over. That way I told her, she wouldn't have to 

       worry about getting back to catch the home bus. Kristen thought 

       it was a wonderful idea and said she'd call me later and let me 

       know. We said our good-byes's and I started the walk home. 

       

            Kristen called about eight that night. I could tell by her 

       voice that she must have got the OK from her parents. She told me 

       I could expect her about eight in the morning and to hold on to 

       my ass because she had some really wild shit in mind. I said OK 

       and hung up. Kristen is still a little scary sometimes. My dad 

       had gone to some equipment show for his company and wouldn't get 

       back until Sunday, so at least we would have the place to 

       ourselves. I figured I'd get to bed early. There was no telling 

       what sort of "wild shit" Kristen had in mind so I figured I'd get 

       plenty of sleep.

       

            Kristen was right on time the next morning. This time I 

       didn't bother to get dressed and greeted her at the door in the 

       nude. She didn't seem to mind. I believe this to be true only 

       because before Kristen got sat down at the kitchen table she was 

       also nude. I made her some sour mash coffee of which she wasted 

       no time in consuming. Actually I'm a bit surprised the "I believe 

       I'll have a drink" group didn't suck it up after the funeral. 

       Maybe they didn't like sour mash. No, I watched them and if they 

       had found it it would be gone. I made Kristen a second cup and 

       then listened while she told me of all the fun stuff she had 

       thought up for us to do.

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

            She started by telling me she had never been naked outside 

       and from what I had told her of my experiences she wanted to try 

       it. I agreed, but I also reminded her it was October, and in case 

       she hadn't noticed while jogging over here, it was less than 

       ideal nudist weather. She agreed it was pretty chilly outside, 

       but said she didn't care. I wasn't overly enthused about freezing 

       my butt off, but I have to admit, the thought of watching Kristen 

       freeze her ass off was making me real horny. 

       

            We went about collecting whatever funtime toys we thought we 

       might use and put on just enough clothes to safely get to the 

       woods. Kristen was absolutely buzzing with excitement as we 

       walked across the open field. As for myself, I couldn't wait to 

       see how well this petite little girl did in this chilly weather 

       once she'd taken her clothes off. 

       

            The trees still had most of their leaves although they had 

       taken on the bright colors of autumn. It was an overcast day, the 

       kind of day that lets you know its not long before winter, but 

       still warms up to fifty degrees or so. Not so bad except when 

       you're nude for a long period of time. I knew what to expect as I 

       had been nude several times in colder weather than this. 

       

            Once we were under the cover of the woods, we stripped off 

       everything but our shoes. "Are you sure you want to do this?" I 

       asked, noticing she was already shivering. "Hell yes," she 

       replied, "I can stand it as long as you, maybe longer." I was 

       glad she didn't say no because for some reason I was really 

       getting off watching her suffer. I'm not sure why I felt that 

       way, maybe it was her over confident attitude, but I wasn't about 

       to knock it. I was really starting to get into this, and I wanted 

       to see just how much she could take.

       

            I explained where we could go and not get too far from our 

       clothes in case one of us decided to give up. I think if I told 

       her we were going to stay here naked until tomorrow she'd have 

       said OK. Kristen suggested we put on some nipple clamps before 

       starting out and that I could use the same ones as her. Seeing 

       nothing wrong with that, I agreed. Actually I had no choice as 

       since Kristen had said before we left that she had everything we 

       might want already in her back pack. After a few seconds of 

       rummaging around, she produced four steel clamps, and I do mean 

       clamps!

       

            Actually, I believe the correct description was, large 

       battery charger clamps with strong springs and sharp and nasty 

       looking serrated ends. Just looking at those babies made my 

       nipples hurt. I told myself for one sure thing, I intended to see 

       two of those monsters hanging from her breasts before I would on 

       mine. I started to wonder who was going to show who as I also 

       realized I really didn't know how much Kristen could take.

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

            To my surprise, Kristen suggested that we each put the 

       clamps on each others nipples. That part I didn't mind. It was 

       the reason she gave that gave me that funny little feeling in the 

       pit of my stomach. Kristen proceeded to tell me that she had used 

       these particular clamps before, and they hurt her so bad that it 

       was hard for her to bring herself to put them on herself. I then 

       asked why she used them if they were that painful. She just 

       smiled and said "Because I like it when it hurts real bad." Once 

       again I found myself at a loss with her logic.

       

            Kristen handed me the clamps and then put her arms around my 

       neck, arching her back to make her breasts accessible to me. Her 

       dark nipples were already at full attention from the chilly fall 

       air and I couldn't resist spending a few minutes on a little tit 

       play. "Ummm, that feels so good." she whispered in my ear as I 

       played with her rock hard and obviously sensitive nipples. I 

       could feel myself getting wet thinking of the pain that would 

       soon blast through them when those sharp serrations bit in. "Are 

       you ready?" I asked as I kissed the top of her shoulder. "I'm 

       ready." she replied as she tightened her grip on me anticipating 

       the pain to come. I kept getting wetter and wetter as I thought 

       how this little girl, knowing how much pain these clamps were 

       going to cause, was holding on to me to get through it. Her bare 

       skin felt cold against my cheek as I moved my head down so I 

       could see what I was doing. Kristen's body tensed even more as 

       she felt me position the first clamp over her left nipple.

       

            I released the clamp, letting the steel teeth dig into her 

       erect nipple. Every muscle in her young body strained to the 

       limit, but Kristen didn't cry out. I then let the other clamp 

       sink it's sharp steel teeth into her right nipple. This time 

       Kristen cried out. I was so turned on by watching her endure what 

       had to be excruciating agony, I think I would have cum right then 

       if not for the fear I was feeling knowing my nipples were next.

       

            Kristen just kept her arms around my neck, quietly sobbing 

       for what must have been ten minutes or so. When the pain had 

       subsided enough, she let go of me and stood back. The look of 

       pain in her tear stained face full well told me what I was now in 

       for. I was beginning to feel real queasy as I saw how severely 

       the clamps mashed her pretty nipples. I got even queasier when 

       she asked if I was ready.

       

            I really wanted to say no. Don't get me wrong, pain does 

       turn me on. It's just that I wasn't totally certain I could stand 

       the amount of pain I knew these monster clamps would cause. Also, 

       there was a ego issue. I was, believe it or not, afraid of being 

       shown up by Kristen. Unfortunately, I was in a catch 22. If I did 

       anything except let her put the clamps on me, the end result 

       would be the same as if I couldn't stand the pain once she had. 

       Hesitantly I replied, "I'm ready."

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

            I put my arms around Kristen's neck the same as she had done 

       with me. I half expected she would play with my nipples as I had 

       done with her, but that was not to be. Kristen wasted no time in 

       applying the first clamp which confirmed my worst fears as I 

       awoke anything that may have been asleep with a loud scream. 

       Before I could even catch my breath from the first attack on my 

       poor left nipple my right one caught fire. I screamed and danced 

       around for what must have been ten minutes before the pain 

       subsided enough for me to get myself back under control. I looked 

       down at my throbbing breasts expecting to see blood squirting 

       from my tortured nipples but there was none. From the pain I was 

       feeling I thought at least my nipples had been cut clean off but 

       they were only severely mashed. Not at all unlike Kristen's.

       

            We hid our clothes under the tree and headed for the old 

       pump house. As we both were pretty cold, Kristen's idea that we 

       jog instead of walk seemed to make sense. At least it did until 

       my nipple clamps started flopping around making each step total 

       agony. I would have slowed to a walk except Kristen's were 

       flopping even more than mine and she just kept jogging. Oh well, 

       if she can stand it, so can I.

       

            We were both out of breath by the time we reached the old 

       pump house. I also knew I was going to have to swallow some of my 

       pride and remove the nipple clamps. My breasts were in so much 

       pain after twenty minutes of jogging that I just couldn't stand 

       it any longer. I was just about to tell Kristen of my dilemma 

       when I noticed she was already removing hers. At seeing this, I 

       wasted no time in removing mine. When I looked a little closer at 

       Kristen's nipples, it was clear why she had taken hers off. There 

       was a small trickle of blood coming from each nipple where the 

       clamps had actually punctured her skin. After seeing that, it was 

       hard for me to imagine how she had been able to get this far. 

       

            It was still pretty cold as we both got a drink from the old 

       pump and it didn't look like it was going to get any warmer. At 

       least the sun was warm and actually, other than being 

       uncomfortable, I wasn't all that cold. Kristen on the other hand 

       was not doing as well. I started to get that turned on feeling as 

       I watched her shiver. Her goose bumps made her fine body hair 

       stand up and she looked like a little fuzz doll standing naked in 

       the woods. I went and put my arms around her, not so much to warm 

       her up, but to feel her naked body against mine. Damn, she felt 

       good. Unfortunately, Kristen wasn't ready for love making yet.

       

            What she was ready for both shocked and pleased me. She 

       wanted me to torture her for awhile. Although unsure how she 

       wanted me to do this, I readily agreed. I had yet to reveal to 

       her that I was aroused by the idea of inflicting pain on her, but 

       seeing how it was her suggestion, all the better for me.

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

            What she had in mind was simple. The old pump house had a 

       beam protruding from the roof with an old iron hook attached to 

       the end of it. Probably used to hoist water barrels onto wagons 

       in the olden days. I was to tie her wrists together with some 

       soft nylon rope she had brought along and then hoist her up so 

       she could slip the rope over the hook thus leaving her suspended 

       a foot or so above the ground. She then had me get a leather 

       horse whip out of her backpack. Flagellation was something I was 

       less than familiar with. I had once tried whipping myself, but it 

       was sort of like trying to beat yourself up, not very effective. 

       This would be different. I could feel myself already getting wet 

       just thinking about laying it on this defenseless little girl 

       suspended in front of me.

       

            I took it upon myself to suggest tying her legs together so 

       that she wouldn't accidently kick me in the head or something. 

       Kristen agreed and added that I should find a stick or something 

       to keep her legs spread apart. This I did. There were plenty of 

       sticks to choose from. I chose one about three feet long.

       

            Having securely tied her ankles to the ends of the stick, I 

       stepped back to survey my handiwork. Magnificent! Her skin was 

       stretched taught over her petite frame showing every straining 

       muscle. I just had to tease her a little before I started her 

       torture. I made her shudder as I ran my fingers over her cold 

       skin. She was helpless hanging there. I could do whatever I 

       wanted. I slowly moved my attention to her hair covered vagina. 

       To my surprise she was also very wet as I slipped my left middle 

       finger deep inside her. Kristen didn't appear to mind. I moved my 

       finger in and out while gently rubbing her clit with my thumb. At 

       the same time I started doing the same to myself. As I stroked 

       and rubbed Kristen, I stroked and rubbed myself. 

       

            I went a little faster. My plan was to bring Kristen to the 

       brink of orgasm and then stop. Judging by the fact that she had 

       her eyes glued to my bush watching me jerk myself off, I figured 

       she must be getting close. I went a little faster. I kept it up 

       until her juices began dripping off my hand and I felt the first 

       preorgasmic spasms tighten her vaginal muscles around my finger. 

       Then, without any warning, I stopped jerking her and sat on the 

       ground where she could watch me continue jerking myself into 

       orgasm.

       

            "Oh, you fucking bitch!" she screamed as I watched her thigh 

       muscles strain against the stick trying in vain to give herself 

       enough stimulation to achieve a climax. The more she fought, the 

       more excited I became. Every muscle in her body bulged as she 

       tried to pull herself into any position that would allow her to 

       close her legs enough to get that last bit of stimulation she so 

       desperately needed. Watching her straining to the limit of her 

       strength was more than I could take. "Damn you, you fucking 

       cunt,  I'll get you for this!" was the last thing I heard her 

       scream as I exploded into orgasmic ecstasy.

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

            Kristen was still bitching up a storm when I returned to the 

       land of the living. Amazingly enough, even though it was only 

       about fifty degrees, we had both worked up a sweat. Actually I 

       felt wonderful. There was only one thing bothering me, and I was 

       about to fix that. I started looking through Kristen's backpack 

       until I found just what I was looking for. It was a funny thing, 

       Kristen quit her screaming and bitching as soon as she saw me 

       pull the roll of duct tape from her backpack. No matter, I used 

       it anyway. I felt myself getting dangerously into this role. I 

       was in total control of the entire situation, and loved it. 

       Kristen was totally helpless hanging from that iron hook. She 

       couldn't free herself or even make an intelligible sound with the 

       duct tape stuck across her mouth. I was in complete control of 

       her immediate future and didn't even feel guilty about it. After 

       all, she told me to hang her up there. Well, didn't she.

       

            It took several tries before I got the hang of Kristen's 

       horse whip. Actually, I didn't practice on her, I just let her 

       watch as I honed my skill on a nearby sapling. Gawd, I was 

       feeling so wicked. Satisfied I now had the feel of the whip, I 

       proceeded to my victim. I must have had a vile look about me 

       because Kristen actually looked a might worried as I cracked the 

       whip close to her feet. She was trying to tell me something but I 

       just couldn't make it out through the duct tape. No matter, I was 

       sure it couldn't be important. I cracked the whip again, this 

       time making contact midway up her thigh.

       

            "Dance you whore!" I thought, fancying myself as some sort 

       of high executioner type. I also figured I better not get to 

       carried away, after all, I might be on the receiving end of this 

       whip someday. "Fuck it." I thought, "high executioners live for 

       the moment." as I let the whip find another spot to liven the 

       nerves on my victim's naked flesh. Again and again the leather 

       whip left red welts on Kristen's tender skin. My aim was 

       improving with every stroke. I would lay a few across her 

       ribcage, then a few more across her tender thighs, finally, a few 

       across her midsection. Kristen danced and jerked with every 

       painful lash. I laid about ten across her back, and ten more 

       across her tiny butt for good measure. She kept shaking her head 

       back and forth trying to say something through the tape. The way 

       she was acting, I got the feeling something was wrong. Realizing 

       how carried away I had gotten, I put down the whip and removed 

       the tape from her mouth. 

       

            "Jesus fuckin christ! What are you trying to do to me?" she 

       sounded like she was half out of her mind as she spoke. "First 

       you play with me until I almost cum, then you stop. Now you whip 

       me until I'm ready to cum again but you won't let me. Why?" I 

       didn't know what to say. What did she mean? Kristen answered my 

       thought before I could speak. "Whip my pussy, damit. Quit 

       whipping my body and just whip my pussy so I can cum!" My feeling 

       went from one of guilt to one of anger for feeling guilty. So be 

       it, you want your pussy whipped, you'll get your pussy whipped, 

       the high executioner never fails.

       

       

       end part 11