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Subject: {ASSM} Story Repost - Diary of Carolyn - Part 5
Date: Mon, 28 Jul 2003 00:10:02 -0400
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DIARY OF CAROLYN
Chapter 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
accidentally start playing with themselves in front of all the
spectators. Hell, I'm not so different after all.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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