Chapter 12: Interludes
Much of the summer was the same. Jeff went for long periods of time acting as if we were only platonic friends before springing something crazy on me. The next thing he sprung on me was actually done on the beach day, but I didn't discover it until that night. When I got home, I took a shower. When I got out, I was looking in the mirror at myself when I noticed a redness in my crotch. Looking closer, I realized what it was. Jeff had moved some sand away below my bikini line, and spelled out a word. There it was, sunburned into my pale skin for everyone who saw me naked to see: SLUT.
I couldn't believe it! Knowing Jeff, there would be a lot of people who would see me naked, and they would see the sign that I was a slut. Well, it wasn't permanent, so it was within the rules. I looked more closely, and then I put my fingers up my cunt as I thought about all the people that would see that I was a slut.
I noticed over the course of the summer that besides acting like a just a friend, there were three categories of acts that Jeff would inflict upon me.
Category one was humiliation. The events on the beach fell into this category. Another example of my humiliation occurred when we were out driving. We were talking about inconsequential subjects when all of a sudden he quietly said, "Get undressed."
It took me a moment to realize what he had said, and after my inevitable query of confusion, he told me, "Take off all your clothes." At this point we were driving down a highway, and while it wasn't exactly like being stripped in Times Square, there was no question that people would see me. Nevertheless, I began to remove my clothes. When I was naked, he took my clothes and shoved them under the back seat, where it would take me a little time to get at them.
He then told me to lean my seat back a little and to put my feet up on the dashboard. Interestingly enough, he made sure that I put my seat belt back on; safety first, I guess. For a few minutes, he simply had me lie there. Then I heard a honk and looked to the side. A trucker was looking down at me and smiling. Jeff said, "Wave to the nice man." I did as he asked, and even smiled, though I imagine it was a sickly little smile.
Jeff kept us moving, and about a dozen people saw my charms before he gave me my next instructions. "Masturbate for me," he said. This time I didn't even say 'What?' I reached down, and it came as no surprise to me that I was soaked. I started playing with myself, and I know that I heard a lot of honking in the background, but I didn't notice much of it. All I could think about was that I was masturbating in a car, going down the highway, with people watching me. I knew that some people really liked watching me, but what got me off was the occasional glimpse I got of a disapproving look from a car that we were passing. I would see the frown and know they thought I was a filthy disgusting slut who was such a skank that she had to get off in a car. It sent such delicious tingles of humiliation through me that I was ready to cum in no time.
I felt a breeze on me, and I realized that Jeff had opened the window. I looked at him, but he simply said, "Cum."
I came. I shrieked my joy at the top of my lungs. Anyone passing by with their window open would have heard me, and my cries were unmistakable. My cum went on for a really long time, but finally I was exhausted and I slumped to the seat. I was lying there trying to catch my breath when Jeff grabbed the hand that had been in my pussy and started licking my fingers off. "Delicious," he said when he was done. The rest of the trip I remained naked. He finally allowed me to dress after we had pulled into the parking lot of our destination, though he kept my underwear for himself.
The second category of acts that Jeff inflicted upon me was painful things. I remember one time that my mother was gone for the day and Jeff came over again. He took me to the backyard and had me strip. He then staked me down to the ground. It felt lovely to be stretched out, and he checked if I was comfortable. When I confirmed that I was, he took the ropes attached to my wrists and ankles and tightened them up. Soon I was stretched well beyond comfort; I could feel the stretch in my muscles and joints.
Jeff then reached into his bag of tricks and pulled out some twine. He started wrapping the scratchy material around me. He strung some of it through my nipple rings, and he wrapped some through my crotch, pulling my pussy lips open. When he was done with his ropes, he left me there.
Every time I moved or even twitched, I could feel the pull on my joints and the twine digging in to me. I felt every bug that landed on me or crawled over me. A few minutes later Jeff returned, and he started laying out various tools that I knew he would use on me. He had a ruler, a pizza wheel, a crop, a fork and about a dozen other implements that I knew could be put to a wicked use on my body. The thing that really got my attention was a bullwhip. I don't know where he had gotten that evil looking thing, but I have already mentioned my recurring Harrison Ford fantasy, and I couldn't even begin to imagine what that would feel like on my skin for real. But I knew that I was going to find out.
Jeff also had a pitcher of water, and took a large drink for himself. Then he held a glass over my head and poured a drink into my open mouth. No neat straws for me today; I managed to drink a lot, and get an even larger amount poured over my face, neck and breasts. When he was done giving me a drink he took another large drink. He then retrieved my discarded panties and ran them up and down my crotch. The panties soaked up a lot of my moisture, while simultaneously pressing the twine into my pussy. After my panties were soaked, he brought them up to my face and said, "Wouldn't want to bother the neighbors, would we?" Then he shoved my panties into my mouth, gagging me for the activities ahead.
Over the course of the next few hours, Jeff used many of the implements on me. He didn't restrict himself to my privates, either. For instance, the ruler he used on my arms, legs and stomach, though the pizza wheel was used only around my breasts. I discovered that a crop applied to your pussy hurts like hell. Forks and knives were used to poke tiny holes all over my body. He had my alligator clips, and he attached one to my clit, then strung a thread from it to my nipple rings.
About a half an hour into his tortures he stood up over me, unfastened his pants, took out his cock and pissed all over my legs. He started from the bottom and worked his way up. Throughout the day he was drinking large cups of water, and about every half hour he pissed on a different part of my body.
This was the day that proved to me that I could cum an infinite amount of times. Interspersed between the pain he was inflicting and the humiliation of being pissed on, Jeff almost continuously played with my body. I came when he spanked me. I came when he poked me. I came when he pissed on me. When his piss hit my pussy I thought that I would explode! I came watching him practice with the bullwhip. I came when he gently ran his fingers through my pussy. I came when he stood over me and jerked off, his cum splashing my face and tits. I came when he brought out the video camera and taped me, covered in sweat, piss and cum, my body marked by hundreds of marks. I came when he lay down on top of me and fucked me, pulling my limbs even tighter. I came when he removed the stakes from the ground, flipped me over, and fucked my pussy, then pulled out and came in my ass. I came when he restaked me, face down, and he showed me what a bullwhip feels like when applied to your back and ass.
At the end of the day, he took out the garden hose and hosed me down. I was exhausted, bruised and battered, and I could not thank him enough. That was the most intensely painful experience he gave me that summer, though at seemingly random times during the course of the summer he would take some action that would cause me pain and orgasm.
The third category of acts that Jeff inflicted on me was for his pleasure. These actually amused me quite a bit, because Jeff appeared guilty for using me that way. Jeff took his role as sexual facilitator of my kinks quite seriously. But every now and then I must have really gotten to him, and he used me strictly for his pleasure.
One time Jeff came over, saw me bending over in a short dress, and he pulled me onto the table and fucked me from behind until he came. Another time he had me come outside and blow him in the back yard. As I said, after each of these occasions Jeff felt guilty for using me in that way. The silly boy couldn't seem to realize that I liked it as much as he did!