Okay. Call me stupid if you want. But I am still alive aint I?

Maybe my plans didn’t go exactly according to plan, but it was only a slight oversight. And thanks to Jack, it all ended well.

It was the weekend before last, and I set myself a challenge, as I often do. It wasn’t, perhaps, the most sensible of challenges, but, in my mind, once I think of an idea, it burns in my head until I do it.

A little about myself I guess would help.

I am 36 years old, and an outright masochist. No matter what pain you dish out, I will take it, and come back for more. My last Dom gave up on me. We watched that video of the girl having her tits nailed, and I said I wanted to try it. He wasn’t over keen on the idea, though he had loved the video.

He was worried that the pain would be too much, and I would scream the house down. But I managed to talk him around in the end, and there were no screams. In fact, I actually purred.

Don’t get me wrong, it hurt like hell. But that is what I crave the most. The more pain I get, the more pain I want. And it really doesn’t matter how I get it.

I was in a subbie fight, but not with another girl, with a guy. The rules of the contest were simple. No rules. Nothing was banned, and no matter what happened, we would fight until the last one remained on their feet, unaided.

Barry was tough. Real tough. And he knows me from way back. He also knew that if he didn’t put me down, then I would do my best to hurt him. The first kick in his balls told him I was being serious about it.

Obviously, I didn’t win. The guy fetched me a right uppercut that send me flying across the room, and the thing was over long before I got to my feet again. But I didn’t argue. He had won fair and square, and I admitted defeat, with a smile.

You get the picture though? Hurt me, and I will smile and politely ask for more.

It had all started because my dad used to beat us all up. The others would run off and cry, but not me. I would be stupid and stand up to him. All that did, was get me another beating, but there was no way on earth I was ever going to give in to him while I could resist.

I was married at twenty, and my husband followed in me father’s footsteps. To some. That may have been strange. But it was all I knew. Beat me to the ground today, and tomorrow morning I will make you the best breakfast you ever ate.

Even he gave up on me, found himself a new punch bag across town, and we were divorced before I was twenty five.

Then I found out about bdsm.

I hadn’t actually been looking for it, I was looking for porn, as you do, when I came across a girl being tied up and flogged.

You gotta believe I wanted to be her. I had not been hurt since hubby left, and I really was getting withdrawal symptoms. The sight of her back whipped until it was bright red, was just what I had been looking for.

Not violence, though even that would have done at the time, but pain. Real pain. And someone who actually wanted to cause it.

I did a bit more research and found a club near where I was living. They seemed to meet once a month, and I wanted to be there. I wanted to see if anyone could break me, stop me wanting the pain I had always taken for granted.

That was seven years ago, and to date, only one man ever came close, but he died of a heart attack. Nothing to do with me, I hasten to add. He always had a bad ticker, and one day, it simply stopped ticking.

But by then my reputation was well ahead of me, and finding suitable partners was getting harder.

It was harder to et anyone to play with me, in fact, it was almost impossible.

Strange how every sadist has limits, especially when the sub hasn’t any.

In the end, I had to test myself, which is not easy.

The first thing was an all night tight bondage, but I found my way out of it long before the night was over. I knew I had tied the ropes tight, but they somehow came loose as the night went on, and I got out f it.

I needed something harder. Something more extreme.

Unless you are a serious masochist, it is hard to explain just what I needed. Imagine you’re an alcoholic, and there is absolutely no drink available. Or a heroin addict and the streets are dry.

That is me without pain. It is much more than a wish, it’s a need, and addiction.

So, what went wrong?

I had been toying with an idea for ages. I don’t own a rack, and I don’t know anyone who does that would let me use it.  But the rack gives slow and continued pain as time goes on. You are stretched beyond your limits, and there is the possibility of dislocated shoulders, and much more.

Trust me, dislocations can be put right. Broken limbs mend, and bruises fade. I have never been worried about any of them. I have had broken arms in the past, but I recovered.

This, you see, is my problem. I really don’t fear pain or anything, and I really would do anything to get it.

I have never resorted to self harm in the usual way. I don’t cut myself, I don’t put myself in danger, but I crave pain.

But, suggest to me that I spend all night hanging by my wrists, and I will do it, regardless of the fact I would suffer afterwards.

Tell me you want to beat the shit out of me, and I will let you. I wont fight back, as long as you hurt me.

That, basically, is who I am.

But back to that night.

I decided, as it was winter, that maybe a night in the snow would be good. The forecast was two below zero, yet another cold night.

Now. I don’t know if you have ever been out in the night when it’s that cold, but the wind bites like a shark, and your blood can freeze. I would never suggest anyone try it, especially if, as I was, you are naked.

This was the thing. I wanted something drastic, as I had had nothing for ages. And I could only do it myself, as no-one I knew was prepared to help me.

I had rung Jack and told him to come and release me in the morning, but not before. If he came earlier, I would send his balls home to his mother in a plastic bag. And he knew I meant it.

He didn’t ask what I was doing, only what time, and where I wanted him.

I had planned to start at midnight, so told him no earlier than eight in the morning.

That was deliberate. He started work at seven, so would not be able to get to me until at least five the next day. That would have me at the mercy of the elements for at least seventeen hours.

The plan was simple, and yet, so bloody dangerous. I wasn’t even sure myself I could do it, but, I would. It didn’t matter how I felt afterwards, as long as I suffered first.

I arrived at my destination at around ten thirty, and started setting up. I threw ropes over some branches, and placed the step ladder in the centre of the clearing. It was important that I had the ropes in place before I climbed the ladder.

I was dressed at the time, but by midnight, I would not be. In fact, nothing could save me from the weather, unless the forecast was wrong. It wasn’t.

The ropes were going to be a little too short. I knew that. My arms would be wrenched if it went wrong, and maybe dislocated.. it didn’t matter to me at the time, but I was still dressed, and actually quite warm.

Its surprising how adrenalin warms you up.

I could see that the ropes were tied correctly, and all I had to do now, was climb the ladder, put my hands through the loops, and kick the ladder away.

I would be suspended six feet off the ground, my arms pulled wide and out, and with no release plan. Seventeen hours of that, in freezing weather conditions.

What I hadn’t heard on the radio, was the full forecast. That was where I was stupid. I shouod have listened, and put the event off for a better night. Just as cold, but not with the weather front I had not listened to.

I climbed the ladder and grabbed the ropes that I had tethered there. The ladder was over ten feet high, and I knew that once I kicked it away, I would actually drop hard into suspension. This was my slight worry. Dropping that way could do serious damage, that I would have to live with until Jack came for me the next day.

By the way, the woods I was using were void of humans. No-one ever visited them, and I had to cut through a wire fence to get in there myself.

So. There I was. A freezing cold night, now naked, and standing on the top step of a ladder. My wrists were already in the loops of the ropes, and one I kicked the ladder away, there was no return.

I slowly started to count to ten. That was my cue to kick the ladder away. .

I knew what to expect. That sudden drop that would wrench my arms. Even if they didn’t dislocate, they would still hurt like shit. And once done. I could do nothing about it. Without the ladder, there was no way on earth I was going to get free.

I did consider walking down the steps of the ladder before kicking it away, to lessen the impact, but what the hell. The plan was to challenge myself as much as I could.

Five. I began to steel my mind for what was coming.

Four. Second thoughts, but I knew that would not stop me. It never did.

Three. Damn, I should have told Jack six in the morning, so I would be down before he went to work.

Two. I checked my hands were not going to come loose as I kicked the ladder.

One. With  my eyes closed, I pressed my feet hard against the front of the step I was standing on.

Zero. Without another thought I kicked backwards, sending the ladder flying away from me, leaving myself impossibly hanging.

The pain was incredible. Worse that I could have imagined, as my body fell towards the ground, stopped only when my shoulders were fully extended, and pain shot through my whole body.

It wasn’t just the shoulders that hurt. My chest felt like it was on dire, and I could hardly breathe. I was no longer certain I could handle this, but there was absolutely nothing I could do now. I was stuck there until Jack came to rescue me.

Even had I told him six in the morning, I think I would have stretched myself more than ever before.

But worse was yet to come. Not in added pain. I was already in so much pain I don’t think I could have handled any more.

It was the weather. I had not listened to the forecast earlier, and now, I was going to be sorry I hadn’t.

It started slowly, and with my eyes closed, I didn’t realise it was happening for a few minutes. I was trying to get comfortable, but failing. Although I am quite light, my weight was pulling hard on my shoulders, and with my body swinging, as it was, it was not easy to concentrate on anything but the pain.

I was conscious of the fact that it seemed to have got a little colder, but that was only the start. the snow, very light at first, was growing in intensity.

I hoped it would stop soon, as I really didn’t want to freeze to death. And without clothes, that was a real possibility.

But the snow didn’t stop. In fact. It got worse, and it got colder. I didn’t realise until that night that cold can hurt as much as any blow. I felt it first on my nipples, strangely enough. With no protection, the cold wind was ripping into them, the snow already settling on me, and with no way to shake it off.

Even without being touched, my nipples started to scream in cold agony. Not that the rest of my body was faring any better.

Had I listened to the forecast. I would certainly have put this challenge off for a while. But, as I said, call me stupid if you want, I didn’t listen, and now I was regretting it. Big time.

It was like a blizzard. That’s the only way I could describe it. The heavens had opened to drop it’s winter glory, and I was there, in it’s path, and unprotected. I could feel the wind biting into my face. My ears were already frozen, and I could no longer feel my feet or nipples.

I prayed that it would stop, but no-one listens to people like me. It didn’t stop. It only got worse.

I knew I was in severe danger of getting hypothermia, but what could I do about it? Other than pray for a quick end.

When you are as masochistic as me, you learn not to fear death. It will come one day, and maybe not the day you choose. But come it will. I just didn’t want to die in this way. I could imagine the field day the papers would have.

Naked girl found hung between two trees in a disused wood. It would be front page news for ages, and my friends, who tried to turn a blind eye to what I did, would have it thrust in their faces.

I knew I wasn’t thinking straight. In fact, I don’t think I was thinking at all. I was freezing. I do remember laughing at one stage, thinking that this would give a whole new meaning to the phrase, “Freezing my tits off”

Any sensation in them was long gone.

I thought I heard someone behind me, but I couldn’t turn around even if I wanted to do. I couldn’t move anything, so cold was my body.

I felt the steps being pushed under my feet, though I was incapable of actually standing on them.

I didn’t understand. It was still dark, and I knew I hadn’t passed out and lost the day. So what was happening.

I felt something warm against my body, as Jack climbed the ladder and supported my weight as he cut the ropes holding me aloft.

If the pain when I had dropped onto my wrists had been bad, the pain now, as they were freed, at least equalled it.

Even through the cold I felt the sharp agony as my shoulders were finally released, and, unable to stop them. Had fallen to my sides.

Jack lowered me to the ground and wrapped a blanket around me, trying to get some warmth back into my body. My clothes had disappeared under the snow that lay a good eight inches deep on the ground. And it was still falling.

I don’t even remember him picking me up and carrying me back to his car, and putting me in the passenger seat. Everything was a mixture of cold and pain, and I was so tired. I only wanted to sleep, and to stop the pain that came back every time I tried to move my arms.

I saw him turn the heater up full, but it didn’t seem to make any difference. I sat in the car, shaking like a leaf, shivering, unable to stop my teeth from chattering. In short, I was a mess. A mess of my own making.

I don’t know whether Jack had always planned to come and pull me down early, or whether it was because of the blizzard. He had, apparently, seen the forecast, and had decided for himself that it was too cold and dangerous for me to complete my challenge.

Like I said. Call me stupid if you want. But here I am. Still alive and well. It may have taken me some time to recover from it, and maybe if Jack hadn’t come for me, I may not still be here. But I am.

Next time, I think I will wait until summer. I couldn’t remember whether Jack had let the ladders fall again after pulling me down. Either way, they would still be there in summer, waiting for me. Calling me.

END?