I got the jack rabbit out of my toy drawer and made sure it had good batteries in it. It wouldn’t do for the bouncing bunny to die on me in mid-stroke. Then I dug out the clothes pins. I’ve got a full bag of them now, but I have found that the nine cross does everything that I want and need to be done.
I warmed myself up with the rabbit and once things were flowing, I started putting the clothes pins on my breasts. The four that are vertical are harder to put on, so I put those on first. One is just above and another just below my nipple. Then two more are right at the edge of where the aerole color starts to fade out. I don’t know why, but that boundary is more sensitive than the surrounding skin.
After I have the vertical pins in place, I do the horizontal ones. Again there are two right next to my nipples. These are a little harder to put in place because my skin is already stretched a little by the pinching of the vertical pins. The ones on the aerole boundary go on easily. I guess there is more skin to work with out that far from the nipple.
The last thing I do is put the “tip clip” in place. It is sort of a delicate balance between getting it far enough out on the nipple so that it is actually squeezing the very tip where it is most sensitive and having it clipped far enough back so that it won’t fall off as I move around.
Once everything is in place, I kneel facing the headboard of my bed. The cluster of clips on each tit is tied together by a cord that threads through the center of their springs. I tie one cord to the bedpost on one side of the headboard, and then tie the other string to the other post. I scooch back until the strings are just beginning to get tight, then I start working the jack rabbit.
If I close my eyes and rock forward and back slightly, I can imagine that someone– today it was Shirley, is pulling at my breasts and nipples as they work their hands on my cunt and clit. I sometimes imagine that it is Randy fucking me as I stand before him. Today, for some reason, I imagined Shirley with a big, vibrating strap-on.
I had never thought about that before. I wonder if she has one? That is something we will have to explore if I can ever get out of therapy.
In any case, I was just starting to get really juicy when suddenly I could feel a flood of my E buddies coming to join me. I expected some of them to arrive. I did, after all, have the clips in place on the very tips of my nipples. But this was way more than I needed to go from pain to pleasure pain. The only thing I could figure was they were from the Beat Girl session, but had somehow been delayed.
With the pain buddies who had stayed away during the Beat Girl session finally arriving, I was in a self-induced narcotic rush that put me in nirvana. I pumped furiously with the jack rabbit and wobbled back and forward so that the strings would pull at the clips. I was grunting and screaming like mad. It is a good thing that we live way out in the country or the neighbors might be calling the police to say that someone was being murdered.
Then I popped. As soon as I felt it start, I fell backward on the bed. The strings went tight and pulled all of the clothespins off my breasts all at once. That completed the blast off.
With my legs doubled over and my butt between my feet, I was splayed open at an obscene angle as I rammed the jack rabbit home one last time and lost control. My arms were in the air above me shaking like I was having a fit. My legs were trying to flail, but they were trapped beneath me on the bed. I screamed and thrashed so hard that I felt the jack rabbit slip out of me and squirt onto the bed between my knees. My hands came down on their own and attacked my cunt as I grunted and groaned and screamed in the throes of a fantastic orgasm.
When it was all over, I lay there panting and trying to regain control of my mind and body. I turned slightly onto each side and straightened my legs. I was so close to the headboard that I couldn’t straighten them out, so instead I put my feet on wall above my headboard and lay there with my cunt dripping onto the sheets. I must have stayed like that for ten or fifteen minutes, or maybe even longer than that. Finally I got up out of the bed and went into the bathroom.
I smelled really heavily of sex and really, really needed a shower, but I decided that my sheets would have first crack at the water heater and stripped my bed and took the sheets down to the laundry room. I had just put them in the wash machine when there was a knock at the door.
It was Harold. I pulled on a robe and asked him to come into the kitchen. He looked really strange and he was having trouble meeting my eyes.
“What’s wrong?” I asked him.
He looked all over the kitchen and then finally back at me as he said, “I can’t lie to you anymore. There is no friend of a friend of a friend.”
“What?!” I asked in surprise.
“I own the website,” he blurted out. “I own all of them. I’m worth a lot of money and I really, really want to help you and would if I could, but honestly and truly, I am in the middle of a deal to buy out two of my competitors and I don’t have any ready cash.”
He looked up at me through his always dirty, thick glasses. “If you need to raise more money with this live performance, though,” he said, “I can set things up to stream it live on a pay-per-view basis and give you all the proceeds over expenses.”
He looked at me very seriously. “Do you want to do that?”
“Definitely,” I answered. “How much do you think we can raise?”
“I really don’t know,” he answered, “but whatever it is, it should help.”
“Thank you, Harold,” I said as I kissed him lightly on the forehead. “And don’t worry about lying to me. I looked up the site a long time ago on Whois and your private email address is listed for the owner. I’ve known you owned Beat Girl for a long time. It doesn’t matter. We all have secrets that we like to think that we keep from everybody.”
He grinned at me rather sheepishly and said, “I’ll put the publicity on the site today and see how many people sign up for the show.”
End of entry for Day Twenty-Eight
Maddi’s Diary, Day Eight, Twenty-Nine, Friday
Shirley and Vicki came out this morning before I left for group. We went out to the studio to look at the chair and make sure it was going to work for what Shirley had in mind. She had Vicki sit in it and had me on all fours down in front of her. “We’ll have to put it up on blocks or something,” she said. “It has to be about a foot higher.”
“No problem,” I answered, and pointed to several small, wooden platforms that were stacked in the corner. “We had to use these at first with the robot arms,” I explained, “until Harold had their legs extended slightly.”
Shirley and I dragged one of the platforms over to the chair and then hefted it onto the platform. Vicki sat back down and I got back down on my hands and knees. I was looking right at her crotch. “Perfect,” said Shirley. I was starting to think I knew what she had in mind.
The whole thing was starting to get me pretty horny, but it was time to go to group, so they left and I went down to the psych floor at the hospital for group.