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Subject: {ASSM} Story Repost - Diary of Carolyn - Part 8
Date: Mon, 28 Jul 2003 00:10:05 -0400
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DIARY OF CAROLYN
Chapter Eight
Copyright 1997
Skull Duggery
This is a work of fiction


    For, what I had thought until today, a shy little Latino girl,
some of what Kristen had told me left me in awe. Like I said, I've
done some things to myself that caused enough pain to nearly pass out
from, but I was having trouble imagining the level of pain she talked
about. Of course, so far it was just that, talk. She could be full of
shit. Then again, if she was just blowing smoke, why did she agree to
come to my house. The whole thing was happening too fast. If she was
for real, she'd expect me to do whatever she did. I couldn't let her
show me up, yet I didn't like to be forced into anything. Especially
if it could do any lasting damage. Five hours ago, playing torture
games with one of my classmates would have been number one thousand on
the ten most unlikely things to do list. I half thought about
canceling the deal, but I was the one who actually made the first
move. Just at that point, I remembered another little ditty my dad
told me. "Always make sure your brain is in gear before you dump the
clutch." I then remembered it was Wednesday night. My father would be
home. I wondered what he'd say if I just laid it all out to him and
asked his advice? I could hear myself now. "Guess what dad? I just
wanted to tell you that for the last few years I've been a self
inflicting pain slut and now I want to do it with another girl from
school. She's a little scary and likes to hurt herself real bad, so do
ya think I should do it with her?" Like, I'm sure.

    My dad woke me the next morning the same as he always did when he
was home. I think I upset him when he tried to make some lame apology
for my mother being away all the time. At least he didn't look too
happy when I said "Who?. You mean my mother? Hell dad, I thought she'd
been abducted by aliens. Actually I was hoping they'd keep her." When
he gave me a hug and a kiss and said he'd see me Friday night, I felt
like I should crawl into a hole somewhere and die. If he only knew how
much I love and need him. Maybe he does.

    I lay in bed until I heard my dad's car leave. It was a little
after six and Kristen would be here about eight. Although I rarely did
it, skipping a school day was easy for me. Kristen on the other hand,
had to ride the bus to school and then skip out so her family wouldn't
find out. I decided to make some breakfast. I do so much like to play
in the bacon grease spatters.

    I ate my breakfast and washed my dishes. I then gave the house a
quick once over not wanting to give Kristen a bad first impression. It
was about quarter to eight when I finished that. I started upstairs to
put some clothes on, but before I got to my room, I stopped and
thought again. I wanted to stay nude. I decided however that might not
be good greeting a first time house guest in the buff, so I threw on a
halter top and a pair of cutoff jeans. I no sooner got my clothes on
when I heard the doorbell. Kristen was half out of breath having
jogged the three and a half miles from the school to my house. She
instantly flopped herself in one of the kitchen chairs and sat there
catching her breath. My first surprise of the day came when I offered
her some coffee. As I set the cup in front of her she asked if I had
anything to put in it. I seldom drink coffee, and when I do, I drink
it black so milk and sugar hadn't occurred to me. As I set down the
milk and reached for the sugar Kristen said between breaths, "Not
that. I mean something, you know, like tequila or whisky." Tequila or
whisky? I had never liked alcohol, so I had to think if we even had
any. My dad had a beer now and then, but I couldn't remember him
drinking whiskey ever. After a couple minutes of looking through the
cupboards, I came upon a bottle of very dusty and obviously well aged
Kentucky sour mash bourbon whisky. Sour mash? Why would anyone drink
sour mash? I showed it to Kristen and she lit up like a bulb, blew off
the dust, screwed off the cap and poured as much as would fit into her
coffee. It made me shudder watching her drink it. I began to wonder if
the secret to her pain tolerance was to just get good and drunk before
starting.

    Kristen drank two more cups of sour mash coffee before she was
done, and to my surprise, didn't seem to be at all affected by it. It
sure is amazing how little you can know about someone you went to
school with most of your life. One thing was for sure. Before this day
was gone, I would be much better educated.

    My next surprise of the day hardly gave the first one time to sink
in. Kristen smiled and told me how happy she was to find someone like
me that shared her interests, and then proceeded to give me a big hug
and kiss of appreciation. Her kiss however, consisted of shoving her
sour mash flavored tongue down my throat to what felt like half way to
my toes. This was NOT what I had in mind. I had to physically pry her
off of me to end her liposuction kiss. She had this strange look of
bewilderment on her face as I wiped my arm across my lips. "What the
fuck was that all about?" I asked in a half angry tone. "Gee, I'm
sorry." Kristen replied in a sheepish voice. "I thought you'd like
that. I didn't mean to make you mad." I assured her I wasn't mad, just
that I wasn't gay either and it might not have been that bad if I had
a little warning. Then to top it off, she starts pouting and asks if I
want her to leave, making me feel like a total turd. Gawd, I'm such a
sucker sometimes.

    I assured her I didn't want her to leave, just that before she
does anything off the wall that requires me as a participant, to tell
me first. I also told her that just because I had never had a
homosexual relationship, didn't necessarily mean I would never try it.
After all, to most of the Bible educated boneheads in this town, gay
meant happy and homosexual was akin to having sex at home. We decided
to go up to my room and start over again.

    I assured Kristen that we would have complete privacy due to my
parents weird schedule. She then told me about how she was always in
danger of being walked in on no matter where she was at her house.
After she had told about some of her closer encounters at home, I
again realized how lucky I really was having the house to myself most
of the time. I wanted to take my clothes off but I waited until
Kristen made the first move. I didn't have to wait long before she
asked if it was all right to get naked. It felt weird being nude with
another girl outside of the gym locker room. It wasn't a bad weird,
actually I found myself enjoying looking at Kristen's nude body.
Before today, I had seen her naked, but I never really paid any
special attention to her. Hell, she was only one of a hundred or so in
the class and our gym periods were seldom the same anyway. But now we
were up close and personal, so to speak, and what I saw was a
remarkably attractive girl.

    She had jet black shoulder length hair with just a hint of a wave
to offset it's otherwise perfectly straight form. Kristen was short,
about five two maybe, and very petite. I'd guess she weighed no more
than ninety pounds but her boobs were twice the size of mine. Real
firm too. With dark pointy nipples that looked like they had seen some
recent abuse. She had sort of a round face with pupils that were so
black they almost had a bluish tint to them. In fact I would say, I
don't think I have ever seen a more attractive face anywhere. Her skin
was only slightly darker than mine and was covered by an almost
invisible down that made her look sort of fuzzy the way the sunlight
fell across her naked outline. I found it hard to picture this thin
tiny girl enduring the kind of pain she had told me about. She did
have a superfine body though. Her legs were thin enough as to leave
about a two inch space between her thighs and like me had a full
growth of hair covering her mound. I wondered what she thought about
me.

    I had never even considered the fact that Kristen might be gay or
bisexual until now. I could tell by the way she looked at me that with
just one word of encouragement she'd be on me like green on grass. I
wasn't quite ready for that yet. At least that's what I told myself.

    "Let's get started." Kristen blurted out as she proceeded to dump
the contents of her back pack onto my bed. Looking over her
conglomeration of toys, some I'd only seen in books, brought back my
feeling of apprehension. Kristen must have noticed the look on my face
because before I could say anything she reassured me that she wouldn't
do anything to me I didn't want. She then added that when I was doing
her, to do what she said as well. Her next statement however, awakened
that little voice that sometimes tries to warn your brain before it
lets you do stupid shit, you know, the one you never listen to. She
told me that no matter how bad I might think she's hurting, if she
tells me more, I was to do it, no questions. Then for toppers, she
asked if I was sure no one would be able to hear us. I assured her we
were the only ones for a couple of miles in any direction. My little
voice kept repeating the same five words, girl, "you are fuckin nuts,"
over and over.

    Kristen introduced me to the breast press first. There was one for
each breast. She had brought four. Somehow I didn't think they were
all for her. They looked homemade but were also well made. Now
realizing I wasn't the only young girl who frequented the hardware
store, I wondered how many there really were. Anyway, they were simple
devices. Each one consisted of two twelve by two inch round wooden
dowels with threaded rods passing through holes at either end. How
they operated was obvious. Kristen wanted to go first, so I placed the
first one on her left breast and tightened the wing nuts until I was
sure it would stay on. I then repeated the process on her other
breast. She then told me to tighten them up. I screwed the one on her
right breast, first one side then the other until she said to stop. I
then did the other breast the same. Both tits were bulging like a
couple of melons before she told me to quit. My turn next.

    Kristen repeated the process on me. Although my breasts were
smaller than hers, they were plenty big enough to get a good grip on.
I let her continue tightening the screws until mine were also bulging
and starting to hurt pretty bad. Kristen then wanted me to tighten
hers up more. I started with her left breast. I kept screwing until I
thought her tit was going to explode. I then did the same with the
right breast. One look at her face told me she had to be in
excruciating pain. The veins in her neck protruded from the strain,
but she just clenched her teeth and never made a sound. I was
beginning to think she was in shock, but it was me who almost went
into shock when she told me to take one more turn on each of the
screws. It took most all the strength I had to get another turn on the
wing nuts. The skin covering her swollen breasts was so tight, I swear
I think if I were to puncture one, she'd fly around the room like a
deflating balloon. The hardwood dowels were actually bending from the
tension and her once attractive young breasts were turning almost
purple from the pressure. The agony she must have been in was beyond
my imagination. I was totally sure that at any second she would begin
screaming and begging me to unscrew the clamps and stop what must feel
like red hot sledge hammers raining down on her exploding tits. I am
sure that I felt my jaw bounce off the floor when Kristen finally did
speak. Instead of begging me with pain filled eyes, she only wanted to
know if I were going to finish tightening my clamps or did I want her
to do it for me? "Uh..., I guess so." I replied half heartedly, still
a bit dumbstruck watching her swollen and obviously excruciatingly
pain filled breasts turn steadily darker in color. "Ready?" Kristen
asked. "Now be sure to tell me when to stop." I wanted to say stop
right then, but again ignoring my little voice, I nodded for her to
begin.

    Kristen began slowly compressing my already throbbing tits. As the
pain steadily increased with each turn of a wing nut, I kept wanting
to say stop. For whatever reason, foolish pride, or just not wanting
to be bested, I let her continue as I watched my B cup breasts turn
into discolored balloons. As I felt the tears begin to trickle down my
cheeks from the ever increasing pain, I knew I was near my limit. I
closed my eyes and tried to think of something, anything other than
the searing pain in my poor tortured breasts. I couldn't. The pain was
just to intense. As hard as I tried, and as much as I wanted to, I
just couldn't stand any more. "Stop!" Kristen immediately obeyed and
stood back to admire her work. I looked down in disbelief at my
bulging pain filled mammaries that appeared at least four times their
original size. The pain was different somehow than pain I had felt
before. This pain didn't seem to stimulate me like other pain. This
just hurt. And hurt like bloody hell! I couldn't believe how Kristen
could just stand there watching me. She had to be in as much pain as
me and I didn't know from one minute to the next how much longer I
could hold on. "Too much for you?" Kristen tauntingly inquired. "I
think so." I replied as I looked at the now deep purple balls of fire
protruding obscenely from my chest. "Can I kiss you?" I heard Kristen
ask. I don't think I really wanted her to but the pain I was in was so
overwhelming my thoughts that I agreed.

    Kristen went to kiss me when our rock hard swollen breasts bumped
together and I almost passed out as what was already unbearable agony
jumped to more than I could stand. I just couldn't take anymore. I
frantically began to unscrew the wing nuts on my clamps as fast as I
could. The incredible pain had been so intense I was actually having
trouble catching my breath. Seeing I was having trouble, Kristen
helped me finish removing the clamps as I lay back on my bed still
catching my breath. I felt sick as I looked at my once firm young
breasts hang to my sides, still distended and purple colored. At least
the screaming pain was now only a hard ache. That was soon to change.

    My relief from the pain lasted only a few precious seconds. As the
blood began to again circulate through my severely abused tits, the
pain started to increase. I tried to massage my poor aching breasts
but it only seemed to make the pain worse. I don't think I passed out,
but the next thing I remember was feeling something cool on my chest.
It felt really good. I opened my eyes to find Kristen had put some wet
towels on my breasts and was laying on the bed beside me. I also
noticed she had removed her breast clamps and had put wet towels on
her breasts as well. We both lay motionless on the bed for I'm not
sure how long, but I must have dosed off again because my next memory
is of Kristen slowly running her hand over my bare skin. She was
lightly letting her fingers slide up and down, barely touching the
bottom of my breasts at one end and going down and barely touching my
uppermost pubic hairs. All of my instincts told me to make her stop. I
did want her to stop. I did. Really I did. Shut up little voice.

    Damn it felt so good. My little voice kept telling my brain to
stop me from letting this happen, but it just felt so damn good. I lay
motionless, feeling her fingers caress my skin as she slowly moved her
hand up and down. I didn't want to give Kristen any ideas that I
wanted her to do this to me, but I found myself secretly hoping each
time her fingers touched the top of my pubic hairs, that she wouldn't
start back up so fast. I could feel my clitoris harden each time she
touched my hair. Again and again she would stop as soon as her fingers
touched the very top of my thick bush. Her hand was moving down again.
Waiting...waiting, I felt her touch my uppermost hairs. I had to fight
the urge to buck my hips. My clit was tingling with excitement. Gawd!
I was on the verge of orgasm. Her hand was moving down again. As hard
as I tried to fight it, I couldn't stop from raising my hips. Just a
little. Maybe she won't notice. I really should tell her to stop but
if she'd only touch my clit. Just a little. Please. Kristen! Read my
mind! Her hand started back up. Shit! I felt like I was going to
explode. What's wrong with her? My clit felt like it was standing
straight up, can't she see it? God dammit, you fuckin bitch, touch me,
please! Her hand started back down. I felt her fingers touch my hair.
Right at that point I'd have given anything if my clit would swap
places with my navel. Wait. Hold that thought. I felt her fingers
probe deeper into my waiting pubic hairs. Slowly she moved her slender
fingers through the thick carpet. Closer...closer. I tried to will my
bulging clitoris to bend back and touch her finger. One finger, any
finger. Closer... I felt her finger touch the foreskin. I was so wet I
could feel the dampness soaking into the bed spread under my buttocks.
At last! She started to make a slow circle around my throbbing clit
with her finger but I'm sure I bucked her off the bed before she got
half way around. I have not a clue how long it was before I returned
from whatever dimension that kind of mind blowing orgasm sends you to,
but if by chance there really is a heaven, I was just there. I wonder
why Kristen is sprawled on the floor with that big shit eating grin on
her face?

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