Bashed-up Babe on the Beach, a short story by KiwiDreamer. Date added: 2012-08-09. Times viewed: 2641.
- Please SEND FEEDBACK - Writers love hearing from you. You can view the Authors profile here
- Intro: One day a middle-aged guy walking along the beach and finds this assaulted young woman...
Every morning soon after dawn, day in and day out whatever the season, Guy Adams, an early-retired drainage and waste-water disposal consultant engineer, combed the half-mile curve of Edmond’s Bay hoping to find beached flotsam of indescribable mystery and charm that would please him immensely.
And every day he’d find glass bottles without messages, unusual seaweed wrenched by current from the deep seabed way out, bits of plastic, fish heads, plastic bags, plastic lids and tape, dead birds and dead crabs and usually fuck-all else.
But he’d persevered and over the five years since arriving days after his retirement to take possession of his new home on the beachfront, he’d helped save the lives of three beached Pilot Whales and a sick dolphin and brought in the authorities to take possession on different occasions of a seaman, a fisherman, a young girl and a cow that the sea had given up the bodies to deposit on the golden sands.
Guy had received two environment awards for his contribution to enhancing the natural environment by keeping the beach clean and protecting wildlife. But he longed to recover a washed-up chest of pirates’ booty.
There was a chill in the air this morning as Guy combed the shoreline of the bay, probably unnoticed as it was early autumn and most people were still sleeping at this uncivilised hour.
“Hello, what’s this?” he said, looking at the bloodied face of a woman aged about thirty with black hair with ripped clothes. He lifted her dress and her panties were in place and her thighs were without fresh markings and so he ruled out sexual assault. Someone, either a jealous husband or a female lover had decided she’d deserved to be beaten and left to drown, the incoming tide already lapping around the unconscious woman’s knees.
Guy picked her up.
What a heavy bitch, he thought, but she was tall and appeared to have an athletic figure.
He carried her to his home. Staggering the last stretch and got her indoors before he sat for a breather.
As he was reaching for his phone she stirred and he knelt beside her.
“Miss, are you okay,” he said, flicking her hair back.
Her eyes opened and she groaned and said she was cold and then, after a pause, said, “No cops.”
No cops, why not?
She was asleep again but this time her breathing was a little more regular.
“Why no cops?” he asked and received no reply.
Well if he called a doctor or took her to an accidence and emergency centre she’d be reported as an accident victim to the cops.
He had a difficult decision to make. What if she was concussed or was bleeding internally?
Well if she died he could slip her into the sea after dark and the cops would simply assume she was dumped somewhere and arrived on the incoming tide.
Guy placed two bath towels waiting to be washed over her and ran a hot bath. He returned to the laundry and undressed her and thought yes she was in great shape, probably a fitness freak. He winced when he saw the welts of punches and the arrival of bruising over her upper body including on her rather small tits.
He lifted her to carry her to the bathroom and thought yes she was heavy and probably was a weight lifter. He grinned but couldn’t explain the rationale of that thinking.
Guy lowered her into the warm water that helped to soften her landing and, panting, he let go of her, he pulling her back to the end of the bath to prop her head out of the water on the slope.
“Christ how the fuck can I haul her out of there unassisted,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “She’ll be a deadweight.”
He took of his polo shirt and grabbing a flannel, slowly cleared the nose bleeds off her face and grinned when he saw she was developing a really good black eye.
Guy glanced up again and saw green eyes.
Jesus she was awake again and must be wondering what the hell was going on.
“Hi ma’am,” he said. “You’re safe and I did what you said and didn’t call the cops. Are you internally injured?”
“No.”
“That’s good if it’s correct. My name is Guy.”
“Sarah.”
“Lie quietly and I’ll warm some chicken soup in the microwave for you.”
He returned with it in a cup, ready to feed her but she reached out and took the cup from him and said she felt good now she was warmed up a bit.
“Thanks. No man your age has ever seen my body since I was a child.”
Guy smiled and said it had been a privilege.
She smiled and said calmly, “Did you touch me?”
“What your pussy?”
She nodded and he said no but he’d glanced at it and noted she shaved.
Sarah sipped more soup and said, “You haven’t asked me what happened?”
“That and your pussy are none of my business.”
“I like you,” she said through her bruised lips.
Then there was silence until she said she needed to pee and go to sleep.
“Pee in the bath, I’ll look away.”
Standing slightly behind her, Guy watched the water discolour a little as she urinated and he thought how erotic that simple act was and felt his dick on the move.
“Finished,” she said.
He moved in, hooked his arm under her armpit and asked her to help him get her out.
She stepped out and looked in the bathroom cabinet mirror, the steam on it having gone, and she said not a word and then he noticed her tears.
Jesus how erotic.
About an hour before dawn Guy felt her slipping into his bed and she said, “Don’t be alarmed Guy, it’s me, Sarah. Don’t touch my chest, or my face or the back of my neck.”
Guy wondered if that were an invitation to touch her anywhere else. As she settled he took her nearest hand into his and squeezed softly and she squeezed back and then her breathing became very regular and he’d figured she was asleep already.
At dawn he left the bed quietly and completed his patrol of the beach as quickly as he could, spotting nothing of merit, and returned and was delighted to find Sarah in the kitchen wearing his bathrobe and ready to cook two omelettes.
“Oh good, been for an early morning run,” she smiled.
“No a walk to look for anything washed up overnight. That’s how I found you although the tide was rising to take you away.
Sarah turned pale.
“Look you need urgent attention to those small cuts and abrasions on you face Sarah to avoid scaring and we have already lost time…”
“During the night I used some face cream I found in the bathroom cabinet for treatment for sunburn.”
“Good and listen carefully. I have a near neighbour who is a retired pharmacist. I’ll bring her over to examine you and will ask her to keep details about her visit confidential, and I know that Margaret will keep her mouth shut.”
Later after Mrs Margaret Locke returned from buying the products needed to apply to Sarah’s facial wounds to deal with infection and help with the healing process, the three of them sat down for a drink, Margaret advising Sarah to stay off stimulants like coffee for the next couple of days and to drink bottled water to help stimulate blood flow.
“How did this happen dear,” she asked the much younger woman.
Looking anxious, Sarah said, “Details of what I’m about to tell you must remain confidential.”
Margaret and Guy gave that assurance.
Sarah said she had been introduced to a man a little younger than herself – she was thirty-two – and the got along so well that she eventually moved out of her flat she shared with three other women and moved in with Nigel. The more she found out about Nigel the more nervous she became. Eventually she found his employment was to find buyers for stolen expensive vehicles for three men who employed youths to steal the vehicles. The brothers would repaint and add new features to the exterior of the vehicles and produce false registration and other documentation. The buyers were made aware the vehicles were ‘hot’ and secured them at well below market value.
There was no contact between Nigel and his clients he found in other cities so any inquiry to find the trio would fail. The Wiseman brothers decided to re-equip their workshop extensively to increase the professionalism of their ‘restored’ vehicles and the money they possessed fell way short of the huge amount required to buy the machinery. They worked out that borrowing funds could compromise the secrecy of their illegal operation. So they decided to rob a bank just before closing time and Nigel was brought into the gang as get-away driver.
By sheer chance Sarah saw Nigel sitting in the vehicle and jumped in beside him, scaring the daylights out of him. He told her what was happening and she was aghast and she told him to drive off. But just then two of brothers came out with two bags of money at the same time two men from a security van were about to enter the bank to collect money. The security guys grappled with the brothers and Nigel jumped out of the vehicle to assist. Sarah, having no wish to be caught in the robbery attempt, slid over into the driver’s seat and drove off.
“Omigod,” Margaret said. “How incredible and you sold the car and pocketed the money and the gang came after you?”
“It wasn’t quite like that,” Sarah smiled. “I dumped the vehicle and went home and expected to see the attempted hold-up item on TV News at Six. But incredibly it was presented as a successful robbery, the report saying the four robbers got away on foot with an estimated quarter of a million pounds. And to my horror at that moment the door of the flat burst open and behind Nigel with a bleeding face were two of the robbers. The third was waiting outside in a stolen car and they kidnapped me. I was screaming but no one moved to intervene. The plan they hatched was to dump me head-first over the Wallace Bridge on to the railway lines but traffic was barely moving and so they diverted and came here to the beach.”
“They had liquor with them and the driver went off and got fish and chips. We were there for some hours and they talked about the robbery and how I almost fucked it up.”
Sarah continued, showing little emotion, “They then talked about stealing another car parked overnight on the street and so it would not be reported stolen for hours. They ate the fish and chips and drank beer and talked about having sex with me and who’d go first. It was awful. Nigel pleaded with them not to do that and pointed out that he’d made the robbery successful by helping Derek and Phil to overpower the guards sufficiently to allow Derek to pull out his pistol and take the captured guards into the bank with their hands up. Apparently by then time sirens were wailing and lights were flashing and people were gathering and he suggested they just walk from the bank with the money in their duffel bags and head in different directions and meet back at the garage and drive off in one of the ‘recycled’ cars. They did that but by then of course two of them had decided to make Nigel lead them to me because I was a witness and a troublemaker and I could identify them.”
“The three guys listened to Nigel, allowing him to plead on my behalf uninterrupted and then the leader called Ralph pulled out a pistol and aiming it at Nigel ordered him to beat the shit out of me. Nigel did that and was ordered to hit me harder and finally he knocked me unconscious with a chop to the back of my neck. They then must have dragged me down below high water mark and that’s where Guy found me some hours later. That’s it really.”
Margaret said Sarah must go to the police but she said no and Guy said he agreed because the gang if caught would almost certainly attempt to incriminate Sarah, falsely claiming she’d been in the planned robbery from the start.
“Just let it be Margaret. Sarah and I will come up with a plan how to tip off the cops without involving her directly.”
“Very well but you must do it because those criminals must not be permitted to get away with this.”
Margaret repeated earlier instructions about how Sarah should continue to care for the cuts and abrasions to her face and then left.
Guy and Margaret discussed her situation. She agreed with him that the gang could return to look for her in the absence of any reports in the media that a body had been recovered from the sea.
Guy took her to the laundry and showed her the long cupboards under the bench that had three access doors for storage but no internal subdivisions. They cleaned it out, placing the items in other cupboards, and he lined the bottom with old blankets and added a rug for Sarah to pull over herself if he yelled to her to hide.
“Why would the gang members come here?”
“Because other permanent residents might tell them I walk the beach every morning just after dawn.”
* * *
That evening after they watched a drama on TV and prepared to go to bed, Sarah said, “May I sleep with you tonight?”
“Why?” Guy asked nervously.
“I have a much younger pussy than Margaret and desire to reward you.”
Appearing flustered, Guy said, “Margaret?”
“Yes I saw the glances passing between you two that told me you two were much more familiar with each other than simply near neighbours.”
He grinned bashfully and said Sarah was a smart cookie.
Guy remained nervous and indecisive and after working his erection up, Sarah sat over him and guided it into her pussy. From then on Guy was fine and took the leading role. He’d been told to take the risk of not wearing a condom.
“I always insisted Nigel wear one because I didn’t completely trust him. He was always going off for days at a time and I had no idea who he associated with and what he did.”
Guy and Sarah’s first time together went quite well and after midnight he shook Sarah awake and asked if she’d like to go at it again and she was delighted that he was now so keen.
Guy hurried back next morning from the beach intending to spend most of the day in bed with dear Sarah and was dismayed she didn’t appear when he called and he couldn’t find her. He checked the wall cabinet in the bathroom and found the medical preparations and dressings for her face had gone.
“Bitch,” he grinned and patting his dick thinking he’d been rewarded.
Margaret came over with chicken salad to share with them for lunch and was disappointed that Sarah had gone.
“Why would she take off?”
“I have no idea. The bitch could at least have said goodbye.”
That evening before sex and then late dinner, Guy and Margaret watching TV News at 6:00 and were startled to see the first item on the news was the filming of a police raid on a building used as a vehicle repair workshop and four men were led out, one with cuts to his face, all handcuffed. The voice-over stated that acting on an anonymous tip-off the four men involved in a bank robbery four days earlier had been arrested and much of the stolen money had been recovered.
“Sarah,” Guy breathed.
“Yes,” Margaret said. “The tipster has to be her.”
* * *
Two weeks later after returning from another fruitless beachcombing walk, Guy had just turned the kettle on to make a cup of tea when he saw a courier arrive with a package about the size of a shoe box.
He signed for it and left it on the kitchen table. He suspected it would be a small gift from Sarah, being the only person he knew likely to send him a package by courier.
Margaret arrived with cod chowder and fresh buns for lunch and looked at the package.
“Hello, what’s this?”
“I don’t recognize the name and address of the sender but suspect those details of the sender are false, that the sender is Sarah.
“Why would she send you anything? I bet she said thanks by allowing you to have sex with her.”
Acting an innocent, Guy said, “Me seducing a woman that young?”
“Yes you bugger. You’d have a go at anything.”
Margaret watched as he ripped open the packaging and Guy removed the lid of the box and they gasped, looking at a bunch of 10 pound notes.
“God how much is here?”
Guy replied quite a few thousand quid.
He pulled out the note.
Hi Guy. You know who this is from. It went to the abandoned car and to my surprise found the vehicle was not locked and the keys were in the ignition. I searched the vehicle and found some documents and then in the corner of the boot I found a bank bag containing 100,000 quid. The crooks were in such a hurry to take off they obviously missed one of the bags.
I’m sending you £20,000 in appreciation of what you did for me. If it hadn’t been for you I might not be here today. I suggest you share some with Margaret. My face is beginning to look fine. The papers I found in the vehicle were made out to the buyer of that car. I delivered the car to him and he gave me £8,000 for the near new BMW-5 that was loaded with extras. I have donated that money to charity. Remember banks steal money from clients through exorbitant fees and pay less than fair interest rates and the money removed from their custody will be insured. So accept this gift without feeling bad about it.
I’ve moved to another city to return to my normal life and have found a temporary position there in what I do with the prospect of receiving a permanent position. Thank you for everything Guy. You’ll a swell bloke and…
“Go on continue,” Margaret said firmly.”
You are a swell bloke and fuck surprisingly well for an elderly bloke.
Margaret smiled and said, “There I knew you’d have a crack at her. Now you better return the money to the bank.”
“No way.”
“Well it’s your decision. I just felt as a responsible adult I had to say that.”
Guy grinned.
“You know about what we have often discussed about our idea of the perfect holiday?”
Margaret held her breath and nodded.
“Well later today you and I are going to the travel shop to book a month’s holiday in France and tour in a rental car and spend longish spells living on a canal boat suitable for two people. Are you coming with me?”
“Quickly, let’s have lunch and get over to the travel agency. Now I don’t want sex more than twice a day when on holiday in France.”
“Margaret, relax. Make no conditions and just let us see what each day brings.”
“God you are a cunning devil,” she smiled, opening the insulated vacuum flask of soup.
(((The End)))
Send feedback
- Use for below to send feedback to author - View the Authors profile here
- The following form will send feedback to the author about this short story, please enter your e-mail if you wish a reply (which is obviously at the authors own discretion)