Paul Gable - Beach girl in bondage

"Okay, baby, you can get the fuck outta here now," Rick said, looking at the pictures again. He was smiling dirtily at her.

"And don't forget," Karen said, tilting her head in the direction of the photos. "You say anything to Brad, you so much as talk to him and I'll make sure these photos get around. Understand?"

Camey nodded, hugging the beach towel close to her body. Now that she was on the brink of freedom she felt waves of guilt and shame wash over her like tidal waves. In a way the girl wished she could stay here with these people. At least there wouldn't be the world's condemnation to face.

"Okay, then get the fuck out," Jack said, moving behind her and pushing her roughly toward the stairway.

Camey stumbled, regained her balance and climbed the stairs. She felt tired, exhausted, shamed. Where could she go? Gould she face her parents after this ordeal? The marks on her body would tell them everything, or nearly so. Could she stand her mother's screams, her father's outrage and probing stare?

"Outside," Jack barked, holding the rear kitchen door open.

Brad! She had to find Brad. He'd know what to do. Even at the risk of having those pictures shown around she had to tell him what had happened, warn him about Karen and his so-called friend, Rick.

"They did WHAT?" Brad asked, his eyes wide with disbelief and surprise.

"They… beat me with… whips and… fucked me," Camey stammered, hiding her face in shame in her hands. She felt sick. The room swayed and whirled around her as she made this confession to Brad. It was getting hard to breathe! Sucking in air through her mouth, the young woman wondered if coming to him was so wise.

"Why?"

Camey wondered if he was going to believe her. She'd stumbled into his apartment in the early hours of the morning, sobbing hysterically with obvious beating marks on her body. Brad had taken her in, locked the door and let her sleep for at least nine hours. When she awakened Camey was less determined to tell him the truth about what happened than before. But she knew an explanation was needed.

Slowly Camey began her story, telling him everything… everything except about Sport. How could she confess to anyone what had happened with the animal. Brad sat on the edge of his bed, occasionally shaking his head from side to side as the teenager sobbed.

When she was through Camey looked up through her tears, wondering if Brad would throw her out. She didn't know why he was now so important in her life. She knew only that he was.

"My old lady's fuckin' money," he muttered, dropping his eyes to the floor. "It's been more damned trouble than it's worth. Too bad about Karen," he said, his voice changing a little. "She was a damned good fuck in the sack."

There was a note of regret mixed with anger. "And Rick and Jack too?"

He looked at her for confirmation. Camey nodded, burying her face in her hands once more and sobbing hysterically. The force of what she'd done hit her squarely in the face now.

"Hey, come on, it's over now. No one's gonna hit you up any more," Brad said, moving over to the crying young woman and stroking her hair gently.

Camey felt her body glow all over. For the first time in a long time she was safe. Leaning over, the girl rested her head on his bare chest, loving the sensation of his fingers caressing her thighs. Oh, but she was so tired, so sore could she do anything with him? Was he even thinking about doing something with her, especially after the ordeal she'd endured?

Camey's thoughts were interrupted by a familiar sound on the stairs. It was Karen's step. She'd recognize that step anywhere. Camey stiffened, pulling sharply away from Brad and standing up. She felt all the blood drain from her body and swayed from side to side as if she were going to faint. No, that woman couldn't find her here!

"In here," Brad said, guessing her thoughts and rushing toward the bathroom.

Camey didn't need any persuasion. Gathering up her towel the young girl dashed into the tiny room, sitting on the stool after having locked the door.

At first she could hear only the murmur of voices behind the mirrored door. Nothing much seemed to be going on.

Then the sound of an argument began. There was shouting, screaming, threats, then finally the report of several slaps followed by shrill female screams. Furniture was overturned, glass broken, and all that accompanied by more screams.

Camey was horrified. Brad was beating Karen up, thrashing her within an inch of her life while threatening her with a violent death. Camey could hear something mentioned about a "fuckin' young girl." But then there were sounds of more slapping followed by more shrieking.

Finally it was over. There was the sound of the front door slamming, then silence. Camey felt her hair stand on end as Brad walked to the bathroom door and knocked gently on it.

"Okay, babe, come on out," he said softly.

Camey stood up, gathered her courage and unlocked the door. What had Karen told him? When she looked into his amused face she guessed everything. And when she saw those five photos fanned out in his right hand the girl collapsed with a groan.

"Hey, no dramatics here," Brad said, bending down and scooping her up in his arms.

But he saw she'd passed out. Kissing her gently on the forehead the weightlifter laid her down on the mattress, letting her sleep for nearly two hours.

"Wh-what happened?" Camey stammered, rubbing her eyes open while wiggling her ass on the soft mattress. Then she remembered and flushed beet red.

"Actually Karen should go into photography. These aren't bad," Brad said, waving the pictures in the air. He was sitting opposite her in a chair, completely naked. His dick was lying across his thigh, semi-erect.

"How… could you even talk to me after seeing… those," Camey managed to say.

"Babe, I don't give a fuck what they made you do. Seems she said you dug it. I dunno," Brad said, shrugging his shoulders. "The way I see it you're a damn fuckin' sight better 'n that group I was hanging' around with. At least you don't want my old lady's cash."

Camey felt a chill rush up and down her spine.

"Come on, better clean up."

Camey thought of that old cracked bathtub in that house. She shivered, then felt better when Brad nodded toward his bathroom and smiled. Quickly she washed, sitting in the tub for some time and letting the warm water soothe her injured flesh. If only she could wash away the memory of what had happened to her. In time, she knew, it would all fade. At least the horror of what had occurred was tempered somewhat by Brad's presence.

"That's better," he said from the mattress as she entered the room with a long white bath towel wrapped around her body. Camey walked slowly toward him. She let the towel fall from her body. "Too bad about them," Brad said, pointing at several ugly purple welts. "But it don't matter much. I kinda like 'em… you know, like beauty marks."

Camey smiled weakly. How could she feel ashamed? Kicking the towel to one side she dropped to the mattress. In seconds she was enfolded in his strong arms, pressed hard to his body. Oh, how hot his lips felt sliding over her throat! How much better this was then all that shouting, all that beating. Even now, with her aching muscles, her chafed flesh, her tortured mind, Camey was enjoying herself immensely.

Her cunt flooded with hot juice. Her tits ached for his touch. As if reading her mind Brad backed up and moved his hands over her nipples, squeezing them. Camey closed her eyes and let out a long, shivering sigh.

"Ohhh, what are you doing to me?" she asked. Camey let herself be rolled over onto her belly, then he pulled her up by the hips until she was on her knees, her face resting sideways on the pillow. Camey didn't have the strength to push herself up on her hands.