Whipped captive

CHAPTER ONE

"Stop it!"

Christina wiped several tears away from under her widened eyes as she backed away from the big man. Crossing both her arms, the young teenage blonde held up her torn halter. Thank God he hadn't torn off her panties!

"Stop or I'll call the police!"

Her voice seemed so tiny, barely audible over the continual roar of the Pacific's high surf behind her. The boardwalk's lights seemed so far away, so inaccessible to the young teenager. She was out here alone in the dark on this broad, deserted beach, alone with this maniac.

"Ohhhh!"

She stumbled, her feet sliding over the gravelly beach sand. Why had she come out this late in the evening for a walk alone? Were the problems she was having with her parents and with her boyfriend Phil worth this encounter? No, no, nothing was worth this terror. Oh, why hadn't she listened to the talk about the return of the biker gangs reappearing in Venice? They'd been gone for nearly ten years. But now that the Los Angeles police force had been called, the groups had drifted back.

"Come on, honey. Come on and gimme a smile. Man, I ain't gonna hurtcha."

The sand was growing firmer and more wet. She was reaching the surf line. Christina could feel the steady flow of salty wet spray on the backs of her legs and neck. She looked, from side to side. At least he was alone. She'd have to make a break for it.

"C'mon, baby. The boys back at the house are sure gonna like playin' with you. And I'll bet you're just the kinda girl who digs gang bangin'."

His words made the girl's flesh crawl. A gust of wind blew her long hair around into her face. Stifling a cry of disgust and terror, Christina stiffened her muscles, wheeled around and bolted for freedom.

"Help me, help meeee!" she cried, her hands flailing out in front of her. As her feet trudged through the sand, the blonde teen felt her halter slip lower, then finally fall to the ground. Her tits were free, jiggling and bouncing as the girl scrambled desperately for freedom. The lights seemed oh so far away!

"Little fuckin' cunt," the biker panted behind her, his boots kicking sprays of sand high in the air as he pursued her.

"Oh, help, help!" Christina cried, sucking in air through her flared nostrils. She couldn't move as quickly as she needed. The sand pulled at her legs, making every movement slow and painful. Behind her, she could hear the biker gaining. Gritting her teeth, the young woman poured every ounce of strength she had into escaping.

"Gotcha!"

The blonde teen screamed as the biker curled his fingers around several strands of her blonde hair and yanked down. Stars popped in front of her eyes as her head snapped back. Her arms jerking out to either side, Christina's knees buckled and she fell to the soft sand.

"Bet your cunt ain't been plowed much the way you been runnin' from me. Man, soon as I spotted you walkin' along the pier I knew you'd be fresh and hot," the biker said in between gasps.

"Let me alone! My father's got money. He'll pay you anything. Just don't touch me!" Christina screamed, rolling onto her belly as she covered her bare tits protectively.

The biker stopped for a moment, crouching over the whimpering teenager. He wiped his thick lips with the back of one hand and studied her thoughtfully.

"Money, eh?"

Christina twisted her head around and peered up. For the first time, she was able to see his face. The full moon peeped out from behind the broken thick cloud cover, silvering the area. He was wearing Levi's that apparently hadn't been washed in weeks, tucked into a well-worn pair of leather riding boots. Her eyes travelling upward, Christina noticed he had no shirt on, his hairy broad chest covered partially by a black leather jacket. His face was ruggedly handsome, framed by a pair of mutton chop sideburns flaring around into a bushy moustache that drooped over his upper lip. Pushed back over a crop of thick tangled black hair was a biker's leather cap. He was everything the Venice community feared was returning to the beach.

"Yes, he'll pay. Just let me go. I'll go home. You can follow me. I swear I'll…"

Her voice trailed off into a whisper when she saw his lips curling into a broader smile. She knew he had no intentions of letting her go. But this talk about money had set several thoughts going in his head. Christina bit her lower lip, sorry now she'd mentioned anything about her parents and their finances.

"We'll talk money later," the biker said thickly, his smile fading. Christina rolled onto one side and started crawling away. She could feel the sand working into the tight-fitting bikini bottoms. The biker was licking his lips like a hungry wolf, staring at her white shivering legs, her boyish hips, and those high-riding, gigantic tits Christina was trying to hide with both arms.

"Oh, oh," the girl moaned, feeling all hope disappear.

"I won't hurt you… too much," he said with a snarl.

The biker unbuckled his belt, pulling it from his pant loops while holding the large brass buckle tightly with one hand. He was going to hit her with it. Christina knew it. She'd heard about how some of those biker gangs worked over their women before fucking them. They liked watching a woman crawl beaten and bloody around their feet. They enjoyed inflicting pain and humiliation, degrading their victim before finally tormenting them with a painful rape.

"Stop!"

When she hesitated, the biker reached down and grabbed her hair. Christina screamed, wanting to knock away that hand causing her so much pain. But she was mindful of her tits. Somehow, she managed to keep her hands covering her jugs as the biker pulled and yanked at her long blonde hair.

"Ahhhhhhh!"

Christina thought he was going to snatch her bald. Her eyelids fluttered while more tears sprang out and streaked down her cheeks.

"I like a girl who's tough," the biker commented wryly, noticing the girl didn't shriek and bawl like so many others he and his buddies had cornered, beaten and fucked. He enjoyed this kind of resistance. It made the final humiliation all that much more enjoyable.

With a growl, he jerked her close, her mouth striking the side of his boot. Christina moaned, her lips splitting from the force of that move. She tasted blood. The biker laughed at her again, jerking his hand up once more, then moving away from the panting young woman.

"Animal!" she spat out, shrinking away from the muscular hulk in front of her. The girl's eyes focused on the broad leather belt still hanging from one hand. Was he only threatening her with it, or was he going to use it?

Christina tensed as she watched him raise one hand high above his head. The belt dangled like a snake, trembling, revealing the nervous excitement coursing through the young stud's body.

"Oh, don't, don't," she whispered, her voice trembling with terror. The biker smiled, snapping the belt with a loud pop inches from her face. Christina screamed, rolling away from the weapon, feeling the sand clinging to her sweat dampened flesh. Behind her she could hear the biker laughing loudly, cracking the belt inches from her body. She screamed and screamed, feeling the rush of air created by the snapping belt. But the young man was careful not to let the leather touch her body. He was enjoying this game of pursuit, watching the teenager crawl over the white sand, her strangled cries of terror modified by sobs and wails while her hands still pressed over her naked tits.

Tiring of the game, the biker dropped his belt and reached down with both hands, curling his strong fingers around her ankles.

"Ohhhhh!"

Christina moaned at this touch. Trapped!

"It's over, baby. Now you're gonna feel a real man fucking you," he muttered thickly.

It would matter nothing to him if she told him she was a virgin. All through junior high and high school, when her closest friends were getting laid, Christina had remained aloof, cooling her dates' ardor when they tried sneaking hot fingers under her skirt. No, she wasn't going to be like the others, passing out her pussy to every Tom, Dick and Harry who took her out. When she gave in, it would be to someone special. Christina wasn't so old fashioned to believe in saving her cherry for her husband. But the boy who took it would have to play an important part in her life.

Now the girl's resolve mocked her. There she was, crawling in the middle of the night on Venice Beach, this unknown biker undressing, getting ready to brutally rape her!

"Wonder if you're the type who likes to get worked over before gettin' fucked," he muttered, the ends of his lips curling up.

"Oh, please, please."

Her whining voice seemed to infuriate him as well as excite him. She saw his hard-on pressing against the front of his trousers. He stared at her hard while she trembled, terrified under him.

"The name's Mike. A girl should know the name of a dude that's gonna fuck her," the biker said. In an instant, he brought one hand down, slapping her hard across the side of her head.

Christina screamed as the force of the blow sent her back down onto the sand.

"Had an old lady up in Oakland who dug this kinda thing. Shit, she wanted to be tied up and kicked around before I stuck my dick into her. Sometimes she was so hot after I worked 'er over, she almost cried when I fucked 'er," Mike said, grabbing her by the forearm and rolling her back onto her ass.

Only now was Christina aware of a distinct sexual thrill mixed with her growing terror. Her pussy was getting hot, tight and itchy as she suffered this biker's abuses. Was he right? Had something in her manner, in her walk told him she was someone who enjoyed pain? It was a new, horrible idea. This thrill was intensified by the growing fear she felt.

Mike let her cry for a second, rubbing his hard-on with one thumb. His eyes studied her small body, her small hips, those large tits barely visible on either side of her protecting arms.

Then he began undressing. Christina watched as he unzipped his fly. He flipped the button holding his pants to his waist, spreading the opened halves of his Levi's widely apart.

The moon had once more gone behind the clouds and the girl could see only varying shades of black in front of her. Still, she was aware of a large, tubular object swinging out toward her. The girl felt a rush of warm air flow from his crotch.

"Oh!"

Mike was thick and long. The young woman inched back, her eyes growing wider as she surveyed the fat long dick jerking in front of her. Christina had never seen anything that big before! Her lower jaw slackened, her lips forming an "O" while a cold sweat broke out on her forehead.

"Like to suck cock, eh?" Mike taunted, scratching his crotch and making his dick swing up and down like a branch in a storm.

"No!"

Suck cock? He was sick, demented and perverted to think she'd do something as horrible as that. The girl sobbed, her fists clenched and pressed against her thighs. Christina kept on scooting back, her asscheeks making a double row in the sand. She felt grains of sand falling uncomfortably into her bikini bottoms.

Yet, in spite of her horror and revulsion, the girl felt her clit swell to its full heat and hardness. It was as hard as his cock, she thought to herself. The swampy warmth between her legs radiated up to her belly, making her tits swell up against her hands. One part of her wanted him to touch her, feel her, making her twist and moan with sexual excitement.

"Sure you do. Betcha you like to fuck 'til you can't piss for a week," he said, wiping the spit from his mouth with the back of one hand. He was enjoying this, watching her cringe under his cruel, obscene words while he played with his exposed cock. Christina tried to move her eyes away from that horrible object. But they remained riveted to his large, throbbing cock. She stared at his fat nuts now screwed tightly up against his crotch. She wanted to touch him, to feel his prick with her fingers. Her pussy was suddenly filled with a wild sensation of heat and lust.

Christina sobbed again, trying to fight down this strange, terrible feeling that had taken her over. How could she be this excited? How could she, a nice girl, a good moral girl, the pride of her family feel this attraction to this demented pervert?

Christina was dizzy with fright. The biker smiled more broadly, shoving his pants down to his boot tops. The hot smell of his crotch washed over her.

The young woman felt her own sweat trickle down from under her arms. The coding ocean breeze tightened her moist scalp.

"Yeah, honey, you're gonna be one hell of a hot fuck," Mike said, taking another step forward. Christina whimpered, shoving her hands in the sand and scooting back another foot.

"No, don't touch me! Please, don't. I never ever had a man before," she said shamefacedly. Why was she ashamed? Why should this admission of virginity make her feel lowly in front of this scum?

"Yeah, they all say that, 'til you shove your dick in and find out they've been had by half the county," Mike said with a sneer.

Christina watched his big cock waving from side to side, striking his leather jacket with each step he took. In the dim light, she could see the thick coating of body fur covering his chest muscles and flat belly. His half-naked body made her clit tingle. As more fuck oil seeped from her slit, her thighs tightened and shuddered. Sand working its way into her ass-crack made Christina realize she was rubbing her thighs together to relieve the building pressure in her cunt. Her entire body was alive and quivering with passion.

"Gotta tenderize you fast."

Mike raised his hand again. Then the arm sliced down, cutting the shadows fleeting across the sand. Christina screamed, her shriek drowned out by the pounding of the heavy surf only a few feet behind her.

"Ohhhhhhh!" she wailed.

"Bitch," he snarled, striking her across the face again. The girl rolled onto her side, both hands still covering her tits while her knees jerked up to her belly. She coughed, some sand and dirt having clogged up her mouth.

"Don't touch me!" she screamed.

Mike was on top of her now, straddling her thighs while trying to knock away her hands from her tits. The girl fought like a soldier, biting, kicking and scratching at his face while he tried to steady her.

"Stop it, you Goddamned little cunt or I'll beat the livin' shit outta you!" he growled, curling his callused fingers into two fists and holding them threateningly in front of her face.

Christina realized she could do nothing to stop him from raping her. He'd knock her unconscious, and then God only knows what he'd try with her. With a groan, the young teenager gave in.

"That's better," he muttered, knocking her hands away from bet tits and staring at the two white mounds under him. "Nice tits. Good and fat and tight," he said, rubbing his fingers lightly over her rubbery red nipples.

Christina tried not to feel anything. Closing her eyes, she bit her lower lip, telling herself nothing was happening. She tried to ignore the hot, tight, itchy ache burning in her pussy.

"Ohhhhhhh!" she cried, turning her face away from Mike.

"Hot, huh, baby? Hot for my dick? Man, bet you're hot enough down there to fry up a hundred cocks," he taunted, rubbing his fingers over her nipples faster. Her tits jiggled and bounced as he inched up closer to her face. Already, the blonde teenager could smell the bleachy aroma of his unwashed crotch. Was he going to make her suck that thing? The girl's heart skipped a beat.

"Don't move," he said threateningly, reaching down and cupping her tits, moving then in from the side while bending down and resting his dick on her upper chest. Christina held her breath, unsure of what he was going to do.

"Ohhhhh!"

Mike pushed her tits toward the center of her chest until his dick was nestled between them. He didn't stop until the hard red tips of both tits were shoved against the head of his cock. Christina had never heard of this being done before, not even from her more "experienced" girlfriends who were free to offer their advice at the drop of a hat.

The biker rocked back and forth. Warm precum spilled from his piss-slit as his body hunched into the valley between Christina's tits. Her nipples scraped against the top of his cock. The tight pressure of his hands holding her tits in place and the continual shoving of his dick-head against her nipples had the girl moaning and clutching helplessly onto the biker's body.

"Yeah, baby, this ain't no rape. You dig it." God help her, she did love the brutal tit-fucking.