I lay on my bed my face buried into my pillow crying my eyes out. I was just so scared this time as Sam was punching me not just slapping me anymore. ...y face and arms were red and a little swollen from the beating I had just taken. I got up, looked at myself in the mirror, and decided I was not going to take his shit no more. Sam had hit me for the last time I thought as I picked up the phone and called home.Dad answered and I explained to him quietly between my sobbing just what had happened. Nicola also partied, but in a more sedate manner, though she almost lost her virginity, which was only saved because the boy who had kissed her, stripped her, and lured her into his bed, finally passed out at the crucial moment from his own excessive drinking.Nicola cried a little because he hadn’t done what she thought she wanted, but when she couldn’t wake him she dressed quietly and went back to the flat. Later she persuaded herself that she hadn’t really wanted to go that far, at least not. Her sides, her legs, her thighs, her hips, her belly. Her torso, just between the breasts. I circle the left one, then the right one. I trace my way back down to her belly button. Further down, to the left thigh. A short brush against her labia, then her right thigh. Smack. I hit her right breast. She yelps, more in surprise than in pain. I am using a riding crop with a broad leather end. It has a certain sting to it, but it's not really painful. I hit her again, on her other breast, then on. She had put on makeup and fixed her hair while in the bathroom - even putting on bright red lipstick. She decided she might be able to pass for someone in her 20s in the right light.She clicked the button on the phone and then glanced at the photo it produced. She decided it was too hard to see and deleted it - after a few missteps in the erasure process. She walked a little closer to the mirror and turned to the side before taking a second picture.Camille nodded at this one. She had tilted her.
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