This part of my life occurred some seven years ago when I was living in an apartment complex, yet still in the same state. I'd known Abbigail forever it seems. She was still just a little k** when her father ran off for some other woman, or something, as I lived just a few doors down from them and had become casual friends with her mother Lisa. Friends with benefits, to be politically correct, which than became a few nights a week of drinking, snorting coke, and fucking after her deadbeat husband abandoned the both of them. But we both knew, or at least I knew, while trying not to get involved in any serious relationship, that it wouldn't turn into more, and eventually we just fell back into just being friends. Yet, overall, I was still very fond of them both, and at times we were a regular part of each other's lives for that one year, and when Abby's mother had to work the third shift over the weekends, and couldn't find a sitter in time, Abby often stayed with me. She was such a. As the water filled the copper tub, Page's hands were slowly pulled upwards. As more water collected in the tub, Page was slowly pulled up off the ground and up the brick wall. The point of most frequent contact was her breasts and nipples, but it also touched her stomach, hips and knees. The brick scrapped and scratched her sensitive skin. Page screamed and rocked back and forth, trying to "walk" her tits up the wall. She also tried to get some purchase with her feet. As the rope hit the stop ring, all of Pages weigh was on her hands. Now any movement added to her discomfort.Page hung there whimpering. This was the ninth trip up the wall in the hour she had been there. The pressure on her joints was like being on a rack that was tightened then loosened repeatedly. Her head, covered in the leather hood to protect her face from scratches, hung back with exhaustion.Her skin was not torn, the lube she had covered herself with before beginning had prevented serious damage. But The Wall.
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