Diary of a Pain Slut Week 03

Sorry about almost forgetting again, Dr. B, but not that much really happened in group. There are five of us in the group. Two of them, a teenaged college boy and girl, say they are sex addicts. My personal opinion is that if they just started their own private little group, they could take care of each other. :-)

Sorry about that Dr. B, but if they screwed each other like bunnies all the time, it would probably take care of the problem eventually.

The other two are teachers at the local community college who got it on with their students. They say that they are not sex addicts or anything like that but it is just that they loved the students and the students loved them.

I guess even I have some limits, because that seems wrong. Both women had sex with several of their students. For one, it was her male students. For the other, it was female students. I don't deny that a young man or woman can fall in love with an older woman, and vice versa, but two or three or four in the same class?

I don't understand them, but then again, they don't understand me. When I said that I was a pain slut who was trying to figure out how to live that out and be a safe and productive member of society, they both said, "But liking pain is perverted. Don't you WANT to change?"

This from a 29 year-old woman who was sleeping with four different female students? Come off of it!

And they've got it wrong. I don't like pain. Under certain circumstances, I get sexual pleasure out of pain... and out of bondage... and out of humiliation... and maybe out of making love to another woman. No, it's not for everybody, but I don't hurt others or screw up some kid's life while they are still all mixed up about who and what they are.

Satisfied, Dr. B? I said something about group. Now I am going to bed.

End of entry for Day Fifteen

Maddi's Diary, Day Sixteen, Saturday

I'm actually writing on Sunday morning. I got in really, really late and if I had stopped to write things up then, it would have still been Sunday morning anyway.

Shirley picked me up a little after 7:30 just like she said she would. She told me that she was also picking up Vicki and she would be the designated driver for the night. Then she held up one of those home Breathalyzer things.

"As long as I keep it below .05, I'm the driver," she said. "That means I can still drink- a little, but we walk from place to place and before I drive home we make sure that I'm below .05." She grinned at me, "I figure worst case you two have to have another drink or two while I sober up enough to drive you home."

As we drove into town, I suddenly felt very weird. This was like a date! She picked me up and she would be dropping me back off at home. I suddenly realized that I was even sitting in the middle of the seat next to her. I started to unbuckle the seat belt to slide over to the passenger side, but she reached down and grabbed my arm.

"No," she said. "Stay. You'll have to sit in the middle when I pick up Vic anyway."

She gave me a quick glance. "Besides, I like you sitting next to me like that."

The rest of the way into town, she was driving one-handed and using the other hand to lightly stroke my leg beneath my shorts.

Vicki came running out of the house as soon as Shirley pulled into the driveway and jumped into the cab of the truck almost before it came to a stop. Then she leaned out the window and yelled, "Bye, Mom. Bye, Dad. Shirley will be bringing me home, but it might be really, really late. Love you both."

Her dad was doing something in the yard and her mom was pulling weeds in the front flower bed. They both looked up and said, "Love you, honey." Then they went back to what they were doing.

"What was that all about?" I asked, looking over at Vicki.

Shirley laughed. "She's got her tube top and micro-mini shorts on and was afraid her dad wouldn't let her out of the house in that outfit."

The tube top wasn't all that revealing. It totally covered her breasts, but it was very obvious that there was no bra of any sort under it. Her nipples were clearly outlined in the fabric. If any of the places we went to had their air conditioning turned way down, she was going to look very interesting.

I looked down at Vicki's legs. Sitting down, her shorts ended just a little below where a pair of granny panties would. The top was a wide, elastic belt area that ran from about two inches below her naval to the middle of her public bone. That meant that most of her stomach was bare. The legs were so short that if they hadn't had elastic holding them tight to her thighs, everything would have been visible from the front or the back.

"Commando?" I asked, smirking slightly.

She stuck her tongue out at me and replied, "Panty shield on the crotch, just in case."

"Juan Carlos', first stop," said Shirley and we backed out of the drive.

I had a glass of wine with my meal at the pub. So did Vicki, but Shirley stuck to 7-up. Then we walked down the strip and started making the rounds. I'd had a couple of whiskey sours by the time we got to "David's Dock." Obviously, the place has a boat theme and there are anchors and ropes and canvas and nets and all of that hanging all over the walls and from the ceiling.

There was a big poster on a stand at the entrance that said, "Short Short Contest Saturday Night - Shortest Shorts wins a $50 Dave's Dock gift certificate."

"Did you know about this in advance?" I asked Vicki.

"No," she replied, "but you can bet your ass that I'm going to enter."

The judging wasn't until 11:00 so we sat around drinking until then. At 11:00 Dave stood up and called all the entrants up onto the stage. Several of the girls got up on stage with almost standard shorts on, but as soon as they looked at the shorts the other girls were wearing, they went back to their tables.

"Audience votes," yelled Dave, "but I am going to narrow it down to the top three." He then walked down the row of girls and tapped most of them on the shoulder and indicated that they should go sit down.

"All right," he shouted at the crowd. "You are supposed to vote based on three things. The criteria is shortest shorts, cutest legs, and best ass. The band is going to play and the three girls are going to dance for you to show off their ASSets. When the song is over, we vote."

The band then started into a song I didn't recognize that was somewhere between hard rock and bump and grind. I knew that Vicki had taken a lot of dance lessons and had gone to contests in high school, but I had never seen her really cut loose.

The other two girls were trying. One was doing what looked like a stripper's pelvic thrusts, or at least she was trying to. She was wearing cut offs that had been hacked even shorter. As she gyrated around the stage, they were riding up in the crack of her ass. She couldn't dance for shit, but it looked like she might win on pure daring. Then the string popped out.

She kicked her leg out at the audience and a tampon string dropped out of the almost-not-there crotch of the shorts and hung down between her legs. Everybody started laughing and a couple of guys started hooting at her and pointing. She looked down and realized what had happened and ran off the stage.

That left Vicki and one other girl. Vicki's shorts were denim and the other girls were black spandex, but they were about the same length. Both girls had nice legs and good looking asses, but Vicki could dance circles around the other girl. At one point, Vicki put her leg above her head from the side and twirled on her other foot. It was a very good thing that the micro-mini shorts had elastic around the legs or everything she had would have been totally visible.

It might have still been close, but timed exactly with the end of the song, Vicki did some sort of front flip and came down on the stage in full splits with one leg back and the other forward toward the audience. She had her hands held out in front of her and after the music stopped, she bowed down so that her forehead was touching her leg.

The place went nuts. The other girl walked off stage shaking her head. It was obvious that she had lost. Dave had Vicki stand next to him and did the "What's your name?" sort of stuff. Then he and Vicki went over and sat at a table just off stage.

After a while, Vicki came back and said, "I hope you guys don't mind, but Dave wants me to hang around for a while. He can drive me home later."

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do," said Shirley with a smirk.

"I plan on doing everything that you would do," Vicki replied with a matching smirk, "but I'm going to do it with a man."

Shirley just laughed as Vicki walked back over to the table where Dave was sitting.

"She does have a nice ass," Shirley said.

Suddenly I felt... jealous. Shirley must have sensed it because she put her hand on top of mine and said, "But your ass is mine." Then she leaned over and kissed me.

I kissed her back. It felt good... really good. Shirley leaned in close and asked, "So, where do you want to go from here?"

"The Pit," I answered.

"You sure?" she replied.

"You'll be with me," I said. "And I need to overlay some memories."

Shirley looked at me like she wasn't sure what I meant by that. I wasn't all that sure either, but she said, "OK, but we will have to drive there."

She got out her little machine and blew into it. Then she held it up so I could see it. "Point oh four," she said. "Let's go slumming."

Some things in life never change, and The Grease Pit is one of those things. It is always dark, dirty, smoky and loud. In town they enforce the state no smoking in bars laws, but out here at the pit, I don't think the law ever stops by... unless it's to break up a major fight or something like that.

As we walked back to one of the back booths, I heard somebody call out, "Do you ladies need someone to join you?"

Shirley turned toward the darkness where the voice had come from and answered, "I'm with her. We don't need someone else."

That brought a chorus of "Ohs" and laughter, but no one else bothered us as we went back and sat down. A waitress scurried over and asked what we wanted. I decided to stick with my whiskey sours. Shirley went with a seven and seven and told the waitress to put it in a tall glass and fill the rest with 7-up.

"I want to be sure we can leave here at any time," she said as she looked around. Some nights you really don't want to have to hang around at the Pit.

After the waitress brought our drinks, I slid over a little closer to Shirley in the booth and sort of leaned my head against her shoulder. "What do we do now?" I asked.

Shirley looked over at me, but said nothing.

"I mean," I said, "where do we go from here?" I lifted up my head so that I could look at her. "I think I love you. I think I always have, but how can we be sure that it isn't just a school girl crush that has lingered for too long?"

I put my head back against her shoulder and said, "How do we know if we are actually made for each other? Are you what I need and am I what you need?"

Shirley let me sigh a couple more times, then she pushed me upright and turned me slightly so that I was looking directly at her. "Take off your shorts," she said. Her voice was stern and commanding.

"What?" I sputtered.

"You said you wanted to overlay some memories. We are going to do that. Take off your shorts and give them to me."

I looked at her. She nodded her head slightly and I reached down with both hands and stuck my thumbs under the waistband of my shorts. I had them pushed down just below my knees when the waitress suddenly stopped by the table.

"Need anything else?" she asked.

"Another whiskey sour and a small dish of your super hot wings," Shirley answered.

As soon as the waitress left, I finished pushing my shorts over my knees. I had to put my shoulders on the table to reach down far enough to slide them down to my ankles. I sat up and pulled one foot out of the shorts and then used the other foot to lift them up far enough for me to grab.

I handed them to Shirley and she said, "Now the panties."

I took a deep breath and repeated the action with my panties. The leather of the booth felt slippery against my ass. I knew that I must be gushing from my cunt to cause that. As I was handing my panties to Shirley, the waitress showed back up with the order. Her eyebrows went up a little, but she put the drink and wings on the table like this was an everyday occurrence. At the Pit, maybe it was.

Shirley pushed at twenty across the table to her and told her to keep the change. As she walked away, Shirley added, "We won't be needing anything else tonight."

Shirley reached down under the table and started stroking my leg. "Finish your drink," she said. I had about a fourth of a glass left, but I downed it in one gulp. She slid my empty glass to the outside of the table and put the full one more or less in front of me.

"Open your legs," she said. I did. I could feel her hand on my upper thigh. I pushed myself forward trying to bring her hand between my legs, but she moved with my leg and kept it on my thigh.

"Now you are going to play with yourself," she said. "But these are the conditions. You can only stroke yourself while you are drinking your whiskey sour. That means that you'd better sip it very carefully or your drink will be empty before you get where you want to go. And if I say 'Stop,' everything stops. If I say that, you put your drink down and you hold it with both hands on the table."

Her hand went between my legs and she stroked my sopping cunt. "Do you understand that?"

"Yes," I breathed heavily.

"Then begin," she said as she pushed the drink closer to me.

I reached down with my right hand and started stroking myself. With my left hand I lifted the whiskey sour to my mouth and started sipping. I was trying really hard to sip only a little bit, but with each stroke of my hand, I was getting wetter and wetter and when my hand started moving up onto my clit and making little circles I suddenly realized that my glass was empty.

"Naughty little girls don't know how to control themselves, do they?" asked Shirley.

Then her voice got really stern and firm and she said, "I said you would have to stop when you finished your drink. Hold the empty glass with both hands."

I whimpered slightly, but I brought my other hand up onto the table and grabbed the empty whisky sour glass with both hands.

"I guess we are going to have to give you something else to sip on," she said. Then she reached down and stroked my thigh. Her fingers slipped between my legs and she pulled them through my slit and upward across my clit. I gasped out loud.

"Do you know what I am going to do?" she asked.

"No," I whimpered back.

She slid the plate of super hot wings across the table in front of me. I didn't know why she had ordered them. I know that she doesn't like spicy food. I do, but the super hot wings here are almost inedible because they are so hot.

She picked up my panties from the seat of the booth and started wiping the sauce off the plate and the wings with them. Soon they were saturated with the spicy hot sauce. "Open up," she said, and I spread my legs wide under the table.

"Wrong end," she said with a laugh. "Open up your mouth."

"I am going to stick these in your mouth," she said calmly. "As long as you keep them in there, I will rub and stroke you and make you feel good. If you spit them out, it's all over and I take you home." She lifted my head slightly so I was looking directly into her dark brown eyes. "Do you understand that?

"Yes," I said.

"Yes, what?" she replied.

I wasn't sure what to say. I didn't think "please" was what she was looking for. Then it hit me. "Yes, Mistress," I replied.

"Open wide," she said and she pushed the panties into my mouth.

I started to make some grunting sounds as the fiery liquid seared the inside of my mouth, but she put her fingers against my lips and said, "Close you mouth and keep quiet or we go home."

I closed my mouth and tried, but I was still making little mewling sounds through my closed lips. Then her hand touched my lower lips. There was evidently still some of the hot sauce on her fingers because when she first touched me, it burned, but almost immediately the pleasure overtook the pain.

She slid her fingers in and out of me and I rocked forward and then back to give her better access. Then she reached down with her other hand and began making little circles around my clit. We were all the way in the back and there wasn't anybody sitting near us, but anyone sitting anywhere in the bar who looked back at us could probably tell what was going on.

I didn't care. I'd done much worse in here and that wasn't with someone I really wanted to be with. I don't know if the sauce in my mouth was getting diluted by my saliva or if it was just that my E buddies were showing up in droves, but it stopped hurting and all I could feel was the pleasure of her hands on my body.

I could feel it building. It was going to be big. Shirley evidently could feel me building toward it also because she said quietly in my ear, "Keep you mouth tightly closed and don't swallow your panties."

Then she pinched my clit... hard. I almost stood up in the booth, but she was holding me down with her other hand. I was concentrating on holding my mouth shut and being quiet, but I know that my grunts and groans could be heard all through the bar. Then it happened.

It was as strong as any orgasm I had ever experienced, but somehow this one was different. I wasn't just exploding and going out of my mind. For a moment or two it was as though Shirley was inside me, and I don't mean her hand. She was inside me and I was inside her and we were blasting through the universe together. ... and I almost swallowed my panties.

I gagged slightly and reached up and pulled them out of my mouth. I took a deep breath and then pushed my lips against hers and kissed her deeply. She kissed me back just as deeply and we remained locked together for several moments until she pushed me back lightly and said, "I think it's time I got you home."

The bar was nearly empty. It was almost 2:00 am and Tommy the bartender was starting to shut things down for closing. "Leave the panties," she said. "It will give the cleaning crew something to talk about."

I left my shorts, too. My blouse was long enough that it looked like I had on a really short mini skirt. If I had bent over at all, my ass would have shown, but I stayed upright and took small steps as Shirley and I hurried out to the pickup. A half-hour later, she was dropping me off at my house.

The light was on in my parents bedroom, so I went into my bedroom and put on a robe and then stuck my head into the room. Mom was lying in bed reading. Dad was asleep.

"I wasn't really waiting up for you," she said. "I just couldn't sleep."

Then she smiled up at me and said, "It wasn't like you were out on a date and I was worrying that you were going to come home without your panties."

"It was a date," I said.

Mom looked up at me. "And I did come home without my panties." Her mouth opened as if she was going to say something, but I said, " But we will talk about that next week when Dad is back on the road."

Mom looked over to make sure that Dad was really asleep and then said, "I'll be gone most of next week also. Our little talk may have to wait."

As I turned to leave the room, she added. "I'll see you Tuesday night."

I turned back to look at her and she smiled and said, "Have a good night."

End of entry for Day Sixteen

Maddi's Diary, Day Seventeen, Sunday.

Sunday was actually a pretty normal day. Dad wasn't desperately trying to do "normal" things, we just did. He greased his truck while Mom and I cleaned house and then we basically sat around the house doing nothing. I lay out in the back yard sunning myself for an hour or two. You can't see the back yard from the road, so I worked on my all-over tan. I heard a small plane go over while I was lying there face up with my eyes closed behind my sunglasses. I wondered if he could see that I was naked. I spread my legs out to the edges of the blanket to give him a better view. Whoever it was probably didn't even notice.