Diary of Carolyn

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?