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From: "OddManOut Anywhere" <oddman0ut@hotmail.com>
Subject: NEW:"The Pause That Refreshes" (teen f, mast, humil) part 1
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DISCLAIMER: If you're under 18, you shouldn't read this. Which is too
bad, really, because I've heard that the situation below happens
regularly to hapless, inquisitive young girls who don't know any better.
So I guess if you're an inquisitive young girl and you're hapless, you
should read this story anyway, FOR YOUR OWN PROTECTION.
OddManOut presents…
THE PAUSE THAT REFRESHES
(A cautionary tale)
Jenny washed the coke bottle carefully in the sink and wiped the
porcelain clean of any signs of what she had done. She felt a little
guilty about what she was about to do, but any guilt she felt was more
than eclipsed by her excitement. She'd gotten her idea from talking
with Tricia at school….
"Suzie uses *what*?"
"A hairbrush."
"Doesn't that hurt?"
"Not the bristly end, stupid. The handle."
"Her own hairbrush?"
"I guess so. Should she use her brother's instead?"
"Eeww. Who told you?"
"Laura."
"What does she use?"
"She said she uses a carrot."
"Eeww. A carrot's going to get all moldy and stuff."
"She doesn't keep using the same carrot again and again. She gets a
different carrot."
"What does she do with the old ones?"
"She said that she throws them out. Personally, I think she feeds them
to her guinea pig."
The two girls collapsed with laughter: Laura's guinea pig weighed about
three pounds. Tricia suddenly stopped laughing and leaned in close to
Jenny.
"You know what I heard Fran uses?"
"The senior Fran?"
"Yeah. A flashlight."
"Get real. No way."
"I'm serious. A big one, too."
"How big?"
"All I know is, her older brother's a security guard."
"Get real, Trish. Nobody uses a flashlight."
"Why not?"
"I dunno. It just seems wrong. It's not the standard thing, you know?
Like a cucumber."
"Or a coke bottle."
"A coke bottle?"
"Yeah, why not? It's narrow at the end, so it goes in easy, but it
widens out fatter than a carrot would. I bet it's the perfect tool,
after a vibrator. Oh yeah, and I guess the real thing, too."
"Eeww. I'm not putting a coke bottle inside of me."
"Not even one that _Eric's_ drunk out of?" More laughter. But Jenny's
interest was whetted. How would it feel? Up until then, she had been
using just her fingers, and on occasion, her hairbrush handle. She
didn't have to worry about her hymen breaking, since that had been done
years earlier while horseback riding at camp.
Now, she turned the clean bottle over in her hands, speculatively. She
had washed it in hot water, and the glass still retained much of the
warmth. Comfort didn't appear to be a problem, as the glass lip was
nicely rounded. The glass didn't feel very slippery, however, so she'd
probably need some vaseline in addition to her own juices. Especially
further down the bottle, where it widened to a full two and a half
inches in diameter. Jenny had never had anything that thick inside of
her before, and she shivered at the imminent fullness she would soon
feel. She ran to the bathroom to grab a tin and some tissues, then took
her treasures to her room and locked the door behind her, just in case
her younger sister Becky happened to come home.
Alone now with her bottle, she decided she would try it raw before she
put any lubricant over the glass. Vaseline could get on the sheets, and
that would make a stain that Jenny would be hard-pressed to explain to
her mother. Pulling off all her clothes, as she did when she knew she
was the only one in the house, she began to rub herself with her hand,
thinking of many boys she'd like to have in her bed, Eric Roberts
foremost among them. It always excited her to think that there were
boys out there—possibly even boys she knew, who would like to touch her,
all over. Jenny was not yet at the point where she would consider the
idea that boys she herself was attracted to might also feel this way.
She thought they would definitely want a girl who was more stacked than
her.
Jenny only allowed herself one glum look at her still-developing breasts
before she made herself think of more pleasant things. She wondered
what Eric might do if she were bold enough to tell him he could do
whatever he wanted with her. She wondered what she would dare to do
with him, if he told her the same thing.
The feeling of her hand was nice, but she had larger things on her mind.
Reaching over for the coke bottle, she placed the head against her outer
lips, now moist with her fantasies. The rim of the glass was still a
little warm from the wash she had given it, and it pressed pleasantly
against her flesh. Taking a deep breath, Jenny spread her legs, then
pushed the top of the bottle inside of her.
It felt smooth and warm and filling, but she was clenched down on the
top, and that made it feel very uncomfortable. Jenny was tempted to
draw it out for a second, but her determination to try this new form of
masturbation overrode the discomfort, so she sat for a while and
relaxed, letting her body get used to the new bulk inside of her. It
occurred to her that she was making herself more accommodating for
whoever it might be that would eventually take her virginity, and she
smiled at the thought, feeling sexy.
Soon, Jenny found that she was used to the feeling or the bottle inside
her, and she could even push it in a little more. She drew it out a
little, and felt her smooth walls close around it as it left. It was a
nice feeling, and one she'd never had before with her finger. She was
glad that she hadn't needed the Vaseline. Jenny wondered if this was
what it would be like when she went with a guy. "Probably warmer," she
thought, imagining a thick cock inside of her. She pushed the bottle
back inside, and was pleasantly surprised when she felt it go in even
deeper this time. It felt nice and full, but when she craned her head
to look down at her crotch, she was shocked to see that only a couple of
inches of bottle was currently embedded in her pussy.
"We'll see about that," she said to the empty room as she reached down
and grabbed the base of the bottle. Relaxing herself as much as she
could, she steadily pulled the coke bottle up into her body. When she
felt that about three inches were inside of her, she decided that was
enough for a start, and she began to slide the bottle out. She stopped
before the tip left her lips, and pushed it back inside her.
"Mmm." Jenny licked her lips as she enjoyed the new feelings that were
rushing through her body. She was feeling things in places she'd never
felt before, and it was wonderful. As she penetrated herself with the
bottle, images of Eric wafted through her head. Eric's friend Matt was
pretty cute, too, and soon he made an appearance. Eric was persistent,
though, and soon, both Eric and Matt were servicing her in her fantasy.
She wasn't giving head—she was too scared to even think of that.
Instead, Eric and Matt were taking turns in her pussy, pumping
themselves deeper inside of her each time they took a turn. Maybe they
would marvel at how much of them she was able to accommodate, and wonder
at how she had ever become so wonderfully experienced. The fantasy
overcame her. Jenny's breath shortened, then stopped altogether as she
arched her back, pistoning the coke bottle in and out of her as fast as
possible while she exploded in orgasm.
As she came back to a normal state, Jenny looked down, and was amazed to
see that the bottle was buried inside of her, with only a couple of
inches still sticking out at the base. She was awed. There must be
five inches of bottle in her cunny, with the last two stretched out how
much? (she estimated with her fingers ) Maybe an inch and a half to
two inches! Incredible!
Impressed with her newfound capacity, Jenny reached down and began to
pull the bottle out of her body. She got about one and a half inches
out, then noticed something disturbing. The bottle wouldn't come out
any further. Jenny's breathing started to get faster as she began to
panic. This wasn't supposed to happen! How could the bottle get stuck
inside of her? She was as slick as she'd ever been! In her
panic-induced state, she clamped her hands around the bottle as hard as
she could and yanked it away her body. She had only gotten two inches
out when she realized that not only was the bottle not coming out, but
she was in extreme pain as well. When she let go, she watched in horror
as the bottle pulled itself back inside of her, spreading her young lips
as it went.
Slowly, it began to dawn on Jenny what had happened. In her excitement,
she had pushed the bottle deeper and deeper into her pussy. Every time
she pushed, her pussy lips acted as a kind of pump valve, pumping a
little bit of trapped air out of the connection, and leaving a little
bit less air inside the bottle. Now, the same flesh that had pumped air
out was acting like a slick seal, holding a rough vacuum inside the
glass bottle. Another wave of panic passed over her, and Jenny clenched
her muscles around the glass intruder in a vain attempt to drive it out.
"Maybe if I put enough pressure on the bottle this way, It'll come out."
She thought. Her brief hope turned to despair as she found that the
bottle wasn't budging. Clenching down on the bottle while she pulled
only resulted in more discomfort as the rigid glass pressed into her
muscle.
Jenny forced herself to relax and try and think the situation through
rationally. She could only think of two main approaches to getting the
bottle out of her body. The first way was to wait until she dried up,
corrupting the now-smooth seal around the surface of the glass. That
way filled her with horror, as she imagined the horrible feeling the
bottle would give, trapped in her dry pussy. Pulling the bottle out
then would be like getting raped in reverse. Plus, how long would it
take for her to dry up? Her parents might come home! Or her little
sister! And what happened if she went dry, but the seal didn't break?
What happened if the bottle got glued inside of her with her own juices?
The only option left to her was to try the second approach and try and
get new air inside of the bottle.
Jenny studied the glass which protruded from her crotch. There was a
thin point in the glass, near the rim on the bottom of the bottle. If
she could somehow drill a hole in the glass there, air could get in, and
she'd be able to easily pull the bottle out of her body.
Now she was getting somewhere. Her dad had just gotten a new electric
drill from her uncle for his birthday. All Jenny needed was to get a
small drill bit and go to work. She looked at the clock beside her bed.
It was one. Her sister was supposed to get back from her friend's house
at three, but she'd probably stay until four. That is, unless she got
kicked out again, in which case she could come back anytime. Jenny
found that situation only slightly unlikely. Her parents wouldn't pose
any problem at all: They had gone to some wedding, and wouldn't be back
until late.
Jenny sat up, and got off the bed. She had to move slowly, to minimize
the discomfort of the bottle inside of her. Now that she'd actually
gone through with this, she realized that a carrot might not have been
so bad after all. After all, carrots were more flexible than glass
bottles.
Her father's drill set was in the garage. Jenny carefully walked
downstairs through the kitchen towards the door, taking small, lurching
steps that kept her hip movement to a minimum. She tried to think sexy
thoughts to keep herself lubricated: She imagined telling Eric this
story (of course, this would be long into their future relationship,
when they would know everything there is to know about each other), and
saw him impressed with her feat, smiling at her ingenuity yet caring
about her discomfort and humiliation. She moistened a little bit as she
thought of how he might best soothe her past pain, then opened the
garage door.
Jenny looked in the garage, then stared in terror. Her parents had
forgotten to close the garage after leaving! Jenny's house had a
two-car garage, so looking out the door from the kitchen, she had seen a
panoramic view of most of her neighborhood. Ian and Jeff Stone, 9 year
old twins who she frequently baby-sat, were playing with action figures
in their front yard right across the street. And though she didn't
actually see him, Jenny could hear Mr. Gleck mowing his lawn next door.
One of the twins began to look towards her, and she slammed the door,
suddenly realizing that she was still naked. She had been able to see
her father's drill. It was on the side wall of the garage, about 18
feet to her left in her dad's tool alcove.
Jenny nervously waddled her way back up to her room and looked in her
closet for something quick to wear. She pulled out a dress that would
cover her up, but noted that it was too nice for her to wear while using
power tools. Another dress was more expendable, but it was way too
short, and might reveal her glass invader to the world as she went to
get the drill. Finally, she pulled out a long white cotton sundress:
easy to put on, not that expensive, good coverage. Excellent.
She put the dress on rather awkwardly: She never realized how much a
person could move their hips in performing everyday tasks, until the hip
movement involved rubbing her sore pussy against a very wide chunk of
glass trapped inside her crotch. She hoped she'd be able to use the
drill. Before she left the room, she glanced at the mirror on her door.
It reflected nothing that suggested she was naked underneath, and for
once Jenny was thankful that she had small breasts.
Waddling down the stairs again, Jenny found that the glass was causing
her more pain. The outer walls of her slit were being rubbed raw from
the smooth surface, and every time she took a step, it was like her
outer lips were burning. Once, when her sister was at camp and both her
parents had gone to visit some friends for the day, Jenny had tried
masturbating as many times as she could, just to see what it would be
like. After the seventh time in five hours, her pussy felt much like it
did now. She was definitely unwilling now to wait for herself to dry
out. That must be the wrong path.
She stood before garage door, allowing her tortured labia some time to
rest before venturing out into the garage to get the drill. She pulled
up her dress, both to give herself some air, and to observe the current
state of the bottle. It wasn't good. While she was walking, she had
somehow worked the bottle inside of her even more, and now it seemed
like another half an inch was buried inside her body. "I just need to
get the drill," she told herself, "With the drill, I can solve all my
problems."
She opened the garage door again, and stepped outside. Ian Stone gave
her a quick glance, then went back to attacking Jeff's Darth Vader with
his Boba Fett. She couldn't see Mr. Gleck, but she could hear his lawn
mower off on the other side of his house. She waddled over to her
father's tool rack, and saw that she would need to find something to
stand on if she was to get the drill from its hook. The Stone twins
started mumbling something to each other, but she didn't pay any
attention to them. She was looking at a big plastic bucket nearby.
Once, it had held plaster, now it held some spiderwebs and an
almost-empty bag of road salt. Jenny pulled out the bag of salt and
turned the bucket over so that she could stand on it. Even this proved
difficult for her, since she needed to get her hands down to the bucket,
and she found no way of doing it without changing the orientation of her
crotch, and rubbing the glass against her raw lips. It helped a little
when she spread her legs, and when she bent down to place the bucket on
the floor again, her ankles were a good two feet apart, the widest she
dared go.
She kicked the bucket carefully up to the edge of the table, and looked
out of the garage door. Both the Stone kids were staring at her. Mr.
Gleck was leaning over the hedge as well to look at her. When she
looked back, he froze, and looked a little strange. Jenny felt a wave
of self-consciousness wash over her. What were they staring at? Was
her dress done up right? Was her posture a little wrong? A horrible
thought occurred to her, and her eyes dropped to the front of her dress.
It was a relief to see that the Coke bottle was not making a little tent
in the thin fabric. "Maybe I'm acting too nervous, and they're picking
up on it." She thought. Raising her head again, she gave her neighbors
a quick smile and a wave. The Stone children waved back at her. Mr.
Gleck looked confused and relieved, then he waved back as well. Then
Jenny hit the garage-door close button, and climbed up on the bucket to
get the drill.
She pulled the drill bit organizer from her father's workbench, and
stood at the bench sorting through her options. Selecting the smallest
bit she could find, she placed it in the collet, and began to tighten
the drill about the bit. As she twisted the metal cylinder, her eyes
strayed to the closed garage door, and she almost dropped the drill in
shock. There, on the floor and wall of the garage door, was her shadow,
cast from the open window on the south side of the garage. It showed a
young woman with a slender figure in a dress. A very gauzy cotton
dress. A gauzy cotton dress that allowed people to see the figure of
the woman beneath the dress, in the right light. And this figure seemed
to have _something_, if not recognizably a coke bottle, coming from
between her legs.
Jenny's legs went weak and she grabbed the counter for support. What
would she do? More importantly, what would Mr. Gleck do, or Ian and
Jeff Stone? She started to cry, but had to stop from panic, and from
the pain it created in her lower abdomen. Jenny made a vow then, that
she would never let anything come inside her body ever again, not coke
bottles, not fingers, not carrots, not boys, not anything. She would
actually go for two weeks before she broke that vow with her hairbrush
handle, three days after the last traces of pain had left her body.
This time, the coke bottle actually helped her, by bringing her back to
reality as her stomach heaved. The sudden burst of discomfort in her
crotch reminded her what she had come down to the garage to do in the
first place. She tightened the collet as tightly as possible, then
plugged the drill into the outlet next to her father's workbench.
Sitting down on the floor, she soon found out, would be the trickiest
part of what she was about to do. It seemed that the only positions she
could take that minimized her pain were the ones that kept her from
seeing what she was about to drill into. In frustration, she lay flat
on her back on the floor, then propped her head up against a box, so
that she could barely see the bottom inch of the coke bottle as it
protruded from her body. Raising the drill with both hands, she
carefully set the bit into a dent in the bottle, where one of the
shallow spiral grooves met the lower rim of the glass. She had to hold
the drill in both hands, pointed down towards her body at almost a 90
degree angle. When Jenny felt sure that the drill bit was set, and she
felt sure that she was firmly holding the drill, Jenny put her right
finger on the drill's trigger and pulled in.
The drill gave a shriek, and vibrated and twisted in her hands. Jenny
might have been able to hold onto the live drill, had she had a normal
grip on the handle, and had the vibrations of the drill bit not traveled
through the glass into her sore crotch. Unfortunately, she was only
able to hold onto the screaming, thrashing instrument for a few seconds
before it twisted out of her hands. The bit jumped off the glass, and
the drill landed sideways on the coke bottle, driving it at an angle
against her inner walls, and bringing an immediate yelp of pain to her
lips. The tip of the bit hit her left thigh, and as the drill turned
off, its slowing spin quickly dug a small cut into her leg. Jenny might
have counted herslf lucky, had the vibrations of the failed drilling
operation not completely inflamed the walls of her pussy.
Jenny put down the drill and surveyed the damage. Her left leg was cut,
but it was really only a deep scratch. Her pussy was in horrible pain,
but probably had no permanent damage done to it. The coke bottle was
scratched, no more. Jenny suddenly realized that she had yelled with
pain, and cocked her ears to check if anyone was trying to rush to her
aid and embarrassment. No one was looking in the garage yet. Jenny
counted to ten. It took five seconds. Still no one. She counted to
twenty. She listened carefully. The whine of Mr. Gleck's mower was
faint. It sounded as though he was working on the other side of his
house. No way he could have heard her. She heard Ian stone say "bam!",
killing one of Jeff's action figures.
Slowly, Jenny pushed herself back to her feet, keeping as little
flexibility in her lower back as possible. She was drying now, and what
parts of her weren't rubbed raw were beginning to stick to the bottle.
She tried thinking sexy thoughts again, but they wouldn't come. She
could only picture Matt holding her down while Eric forced his whole
hand up her hole, her screams ignored in the secluded basement they'd
take her. She wrenched her mind away from the picture and put the drill
back on the workbench. Tired and defeated, she walked back to her room
and collapsed on her bed.
Her life was ruined. She might as well resign herself to the idea.
Fifty-two years from now, at her big high school reunion, she would meet
Eric, who would be a multimillionaire, of course, and he show up with
his twenty-five year old trophy wife, and they would get to talking, and
he would look at her funny and ask her if it was still true that "Coke
is it". Then his little bimbo would laugh at her, because he would have
told her all about it beforehand. That was how ruined Jenny thought her
life was. She would end up as a bag lady, collecting money by turning
in cans only for deposit, because everyone would take one look at her
and realize that she couldn't be trusted with a glass bottle. That was
how ruined her life was. Jenny took a deep sigh, and relaxed her body
in despair. The bottle was still extremely uncomfortable, so she spread
her leg and dangled one over the side of the bed.
The bottle shifted. Jenny knew it. She could have sworn the pressure
eased a little more than it should have. She started breathing faster
in excitement, and reached down to pull out the trapped glass. When she
tried, it wouldn't budge. She began to tense up again, then realized
that as she tensed up, the discomfort began to increase. Maybe the
bottle would be easier to get out if she wasn't so tense about it.
Slowly, Jenny spread out her legs as far as she thought they could go.
Some of her sore vulva began to peel away from the glass, a sign of hope
for the panicked teenager. "I am relaxed," she thought to herself,
"There is no stress in my life right now." She trailed her left arm
down to the bottle and grabbed it softly but firmly. When she pulled,
she felt it give way a little, but take some of herself with it. Jenny
stopped and held the bottle in place, and was satisfied when she found
that her body was relaxing back away on its own. What had she been
thinking with the drill? She should have tried this first. She took
another deep breath and let it out. "I have plenty of time to do this.
No one is coming home for at least two more hours." She began to pull
again.
The doorbell rang.
Out of reflex, her legs flew together, and a howl of pain escaped her
lips as they closed around the unforgiving bottle. Who the hell could
be ringing her doorbell? The pain in her crotch was a fierce throbbing.
"Hello?" Mr. Gleck's voice came faintly through the door. "Jenny?" Oh
no. He had seen her. He knew exactly what she was doing. Jenny had
never liked Mr. Gleck. Her mom thought he was great, and he knew all
about books and math and computers, but she had always found him a
little creepy. He seemed to find an excuse to come over to her house to
see her way too often. Much more than the Stones, whose desire for a
babysitter actually gave them a reason to see Jenny.
Mr. Gleck knocked again. Jenny considered not answering, then realized
that he had seen her in the garage, and if she didn't answer, he might
assume the worst and do something like call 911. Bad situation.
"HOLD ON!!" She screamed out of her room. "I'M COMING!!!" She got off
the bed and waddled to her closet. No way was she wearing that thin
thing in front of Mr. Gleck again. Jenny pulled out a velvet party
dress and slipped it over her top. It came down to just above her
knees, but that was enough to cover the bottle. Even better, it was
made out of a heavy opaque fabric. No way was anybody going to see
through that.
continued...
"It is only the great men who are truly obscene. If they
had not dared to be obscene, they could never have dared
to be great."
-Havelock Ellis
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