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Subject: {ASSM} A Boy and His Girl (D/s m/g ped rom)
X-Original-Subject: story submission
Date: Wed, 6 Sep 2000 08:10:04 -0400
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To ASSTR:
Here is another story for submission. The subject headings might be (D/s m/g
ped rom).
Title: A Boy and His Girl
A long time from now, on a planet far far from here...
On a small green planet circling a medium yellow sun is a terran society. In
most cases it was typical of the colonies formed during the great Diaspora:
the usual mix of high and low society, the standard economic base of
farming, mining, and manufacturing. But, also like most of the colonies, it
had its own idiosyncrasy.
This society was formed by adherents of the ancient "BDSM" lifestyle.
Although not as "hard" as it could have been (like the Gorean planets), nor
as "soft", it maintained a robust presence pretty much throughout all strata
of society. Almost all sexual relations were in the BDSM mode. Indeed most
of the women (and the older girls) were officially some man or other's
slave, although the practice was hedged about with legal and cultural
restrictions, designed to protect the females from serious harm, mutilation,
or undesired pregnancy. Most slave relations ended in marriage, although the
BDSM activity continued, and a wife was considered pretty much her husband's
slave anyway.
A master was expected to cherish his slave, protect her, and see to her
needs, including sexual needs. It was considered the pinnacle of mdom
technique to be able to make one's slave come by punishment alone, without
resorting to manual or oral stimulation of the clitoris (although few
achieved this with any regularity; most didn't even try to do any more than
excite themselves and her with the punishment, then finish the job in a more
"vanilla" fashion). Marks that lasted more than a day were frowned upon, and
unplanned pregnancies resulted in the slave's choice of marriage or freedom,
with or without adoption of the child. The father was responsible for the
child's upkeep in any event, unless adopted out.
Girls were usually sold into slavery at around 10 - 12 years old, most often
to a teenage boy known to the girl's family; marriage was typical in such
cases. The boy then took over the girl's schooling, and often took her to
school with him, both for her instruction in academics, and for his
amusement during the day. Boys and girls were often taught by parents or
governesses until teenage years (for the boys) or slavery (for the girls).
Boys subsequently went to the academies which were essentially the same as
Jr High and High Schools. Both boys and girls were typically shielded from
most BDSM behavior until the age when girls were sold, so as to heighten the
surprise and embarrassment of the girl's first punishment. Corporal
punishment of children was not common, and usually limited to spankings.
It is interesting to note the source of the relative civility of the
treatment of women in this society at the time of our story, compared to
what it sometimes was at the first inception of the colony. Treatment of
women was more varied, then. Some masters were quite savage, although
killing or mutilating a slave was rare and illegal. But there had always
been a healthy presence of Christians on the planet. Although Christian BDSM
was rare, it was not unheard of, and some adherents had accompanied the
colonists on the original flight, and their descendants enjoyed a relatively
prominent position, although rarely as rulers. They were sometimes tolerated
rather than looked up to, but they were generally acknowledged as legitimate
members of society. And it was the influence of the Christians that had led
to the more widespread acceptance of standards of behavior that promoted the
wellbeing of the females, and had indeed led to a general ethos such that
the legal rules concerning treatment of slaves rarely had to be enforced;
infractions were infrequent and usually accidental, slaves typically were
emotionally attached to their masters and would easily excuse the
transgression, and marriage was common if unplanned pregnancy occurred.
After a fairly long stable period, some Christians had begun again to push
for reforms in the treatment of slaves. This was creating friction, and
resentment was beginning to be expressed, especially among the more rich and
powerful.
It is in this setting that we consider the story of one boy and one girl...
Prologue
The boy was building sandcastles on the beach. Being thirteen and hoping to
be an architect, he was good at it. His were careful structures with
intricate filigrees, and stout walls and moats that served to keep out the
oncoming waves, for a while. He was generally a quiet and well-mannered
child, owing to the training of his governess. She was a Christian, and
though he had not converted (yet), her influence was clearly to be seen in
him. But his governess was gone now, and after vacation came his first year
at school. But for now he was happy playing in the surf and sand. His name
was Carl.
Carl was an only child, living in the household of his father, a wealthy and
influential businessman. His mother had died when he was young. His father
rarely spoke to the boy, although he ate with him about once a week, and was
careful to make sure he was attended by qualified people. He had not known
that the boy's governess was a Christian, however, or he probably would not
have hired her. He was one who was irritated with the pushes for reforms in
the practice of slavery; he liked things as they were.
Just down the beach from Carl's father's vacation home, a father and
daughter were vacationing in a small bungalow. The father was a professor at
a prominent college. He was also a Christian, and one who was unusually
vocal in pushing for further slavery reforms, although he (like everyone in
society) assumed that sexual relations would usually be of a BDSM nature. He
had actually called publicly for pushing the youngest limit on slavery to a
modest 13 years old, and the elimination of owning more than one slave. This
had earned him much enmity, of which he was blissfully unaware, being quite
naive. In actuality, one of his harshest critics was now his
next-door-neighbor on the beach!
His daughter was all he had, his wife having died shortly after she was
born. The girl was now 7, slender and shy, and very pretty. Her name was
Tammie. Under the not-so-watchful care of a lazy governess, she was left to
wander the beach in the vicinity of the bungalow, picking shells and
swimming in the surf. As she skipped down the beach one day, she saw Carl.
He was building a sandcastle of unusual intricacy, and she was entranced.
She watched for a while from afar, and then plucked up her courage to squat
next to him and look more closely. She was dressed in the usual attire for a
7-yr-old on the beach at that time, which was simply a t-shirt. As he
glanced at her he couldn't help but notice her little nipples, erect from
the chill of the breeze on the beach, clearly noticeable through her wet
t-shirt that clung to her. Also her girlcleft peeped out from under the hem
of her shirt, which was last year's and not quite long enough to conceal her
adequately. The sight oddly stirred him, and he looked away hastily. To
cover his confusion he asked her, "Do you want to help me with this?"
Nothing he could have said would have pleased her more.
Under his able direction she plunged into the work as he ordered this bucket
of sand here, that pail of water there, until a fairytale castle took shape
to her enormous delight. He was charmed by her cheerful enthusiasm and
slender beauty. At the end of the day they promised to meet again on the
beach to build some more.
And so commenced a happy time for them both. They built castle after castle,
and watched with mixed glee and tristesse as the structures stood bravely
against the incoming tide until finally deluged. Whenever they took a break
to splash in the surf, he couldn't help but notice her little bottom and
unfledged girlcleft easily visible below her t-shirt whenever she stretched,
or jumped, or bent over. He was falling in love with her, although all he
realized was that he liked having her around, and missed her on the rare
occasions when she couldn't come to the beach.
After a while the boy's father found out the identity of his neighbor on the
beach, and learned of Carl's and Tammie's play together. He decided to toy
with his enemy's peace of mind. He called Carl into his study one evening.
This was a rare occasion, and Carl wondered what was afoot. His father
proceeded to lecture Carl on the proper relationship between the sexes. He
told Carl that, if he wanted to continue to play with Tammie, that Carl
would have to treat her as he ought to. To demonstrate, he called in one of
his pretty slave/concubines, a leggy 20-yr-old. He proceeded to put her over
his knee and give her a brisk and businesslike spanking. She yelped and
moaned. Finally he finished with a final SWAT on her bottom to send her on
her way. She bounced off, flushed-faced and sniffling noisily. He gave Carl
a choice: spank Tammie in that way, or cease their play together. Astonished
(and aroused in a confused way), he assented.
The next day the two met as usual on the beach. After a pleasant day of
play, they were about to leave for their respective homes, when he suddenly
remembered his duty. He told her, "Um...my dad said that I...I mean I'm
supposed to...Well, I sorta have to..." "What, what?!" she demanded with
childish impatience. "My dad said that if we want to play together any more
I have to spank you every day!" he blurted out. "You have to what??!" she
exclaimed. "I know, it's horrible! I knew you wouldn't want to. Oh, well, it
sure was fun playing with you while it lasted," he added, sadly. "Do you
mean to tell me that if you don't spank me we can't play together
anymore??!" she exclaimed, "Oh, well, then, all right; let's get it over
with." He was surprised but pleased.
He led her over to a rock, and sat down on it, pulling her down over his
lap. He brought his hand down on her bottom so gently it hardly made a
sound. "You can do it harder than that!" she said almost indignantly. He
proceeded to spank her in a sharp fashion more nearly like his father's,
though with nowhere near as much force. This was more intense than she
expected, but she didn't object, just moaned and cried out as he spanked her
and spanked her on her bare bottom. It was an extraordinary sensation for
him, to have a warm, soft girl on his lap, her waist pressing on his
swelling rod, as he spanked her pretty little bottom. When he finally
finished, she sniffled a little and sobbed softly as he rubbed her reddened
cheeks. Then she hopped off with a cheery, "That wasn't so bad!" and bounced
happily home, with a smiling wave and a promise for the morrow. He watched
her go in a trance.
The next day they played happily again. At the end of the day they were
about to leave for their homes. He had forgotten all about spanking her, but
she suddenly remembered, saying, "Aren't you supposed to spank me?" and
insisted that she plop down across his lap, where she squirmed and jiggled
fetchingly as he spanked her even a little more firmly than he had before.
Her little yips and moans seemed to go straight to his rod, which pressed
hard against her belly as he spanked her again and again. When he was done
she popped up cheerfully despite her damp eyes, and said, "Boy, I really got
a spanking, didn't I! Well, see ya tomorrow!" And off she went, skipping
down the beach.
This sort of thing had gone on for a few days, when Carl's father introduced
a new wrinkle in his scheme. Calling Carl into his study again, he proceeded
to instruct him on how to switch a girl, demonstrating with a peach branch
and an attractive brunette slavegirl, who cried out and moaned with passion
as he whipped the back and fronts of her thighs, her buttocks, and her
breasts. When the young woman seemed almost ready to faint from the
intensity of her punishment, he suddenly brought the switch up sharply
between her legs, full upon her cleft lips. WAP! She nearly screamed and
almost came on the spot. He dismissed her with an almost contemptuous pinch
of her nipples and she trudged away sobbing and rubbing her abused sex and
breasts. His father handed the stupefied Carl the switch and reiterated his
instructions, emphasizing that no marks more than a rapidly-fading red line
should be left by each stroke, but that the switch should be sharply handled
for the best effect. The dazed boy took the switch and left the room.
The next day he could not contain his horror at this new prospect. Before
they even started playing, he told her what his father had demanded, and
cried out, "But I don't want to do that to you!" He was so obviously
distressed that she was moved to comfort him, saying, "O, it's OK, don't
worry; I know you won't hurt me real bad; just enough, no more. It'll be all
right. Please whip me; I want to keep playing with you!" And she pleaded so
fetchingly that he finally agreed.
He took the switch and began to whip the back of her thighs. WAP! WAK! again
and again. "OH! AAAH! OOOO!" she moaned and cried out, trembling with each
stroke of the peach branch on her tender flesh. Then he moved to the front
of her thighs and brought it down across both at once, SWAP! and WAK! Back
and forth he swung the switch, emulating his father, and the little girl
nearly danced in place from the intensity of her punishment. Then before she
knew it he had pulled her t-shirt up and off her, exposing her bare nipples.
Without further ado he brought the switch down across her little nipples
repeatedly, bringing fresh cries to her lips with each stroke. WAK! "AAAAA!"
SWAP! "OOOOO!" Then, just when she thought she was about to faint from the
overwhelming punishment she was receiving, he suddenly brought the switch
around and up sharply between her legs, WAAAP! "AAAAAAAAHHH!" she nearly
screamed, and almost fainted. He caught her up in his arms and held her
close and tight, rubbing her awkwardly and stroking her hair and kissing her
forehead. She clung to him and somehow let him know that she was all right.
Soon she looked up at him and smiled through tears, saying, "Whew, that was
some punishment! It really stung!" "I'm so sorry," he said, with a worried
look, "I won't do it so hard again!" "Oh, that's OK!" she said with a laugh,
"I guess a punishment is supposed to hurt some, isn't it?" "I guess so," he
laughed, too. With that they plunged into their castle-making for the day.
They continued to play nearly every day, and he continued to spank and whip
her as well. Sometimes she would ask to be punished before they started
anything else. Sometimes she had to remind him to before they left for the
day. But sometimes he would use some minor mistake in carrying out his
instructions in castle-building as an excuse to punish her, saying with
mock-sternness, "Young lady, you'll have to be punished for that!" She would
giggle, and plop down across his lap for her spanking.
Soon, however, his father called Carl into his study for what would be the
last time that summer. He instructed the boy in one more punishment
technique. Calling in his youngest girlslave, a slender 15-yr-old, he
proceeded to lubricate his fingers, and then pierce, penetrate, and probe
the writhing girl's anus with one hand, while he pinched and massaged her
clitoris and girlcleft with the other! Her moans and cries filled the air,
until she finally came, bucking against her master's hands, panting and
gasping and finally collapsing over his lap. He sent her on her way, gulping
and sobbing, with a few well-placed spanks.
His father handed the boy a small tube of lubricant and told him to use it
on her tomorrow, if he wanted to continue to enjoy her company. Still dazed
from what he had seen, the boy took the tube and left.
The next day, they played as usual. It was a wonderful day, a light breeze,
warm but not humid, a few fluffy clouds in the sky. They swam in the shallow
waters, built some of the best sandcastles they ever had, and lay around in
the sand. Towards the end of the day, he said mock-gruffly, "OK, young lady,
you've been asking for a paddling all day, and now you're going to get it!"
She giggled nervously and lay across his lap. He spanked her and spanked
her, by now understanding the rhythm of it a little more, letting the sting
of each one set in and then landing another one as she gasped and yelped.
Then he rubbed her bottom softly for a while, his fingers straying towards
her little rosebud and girlcleft as she trembled and moaned. Then he stood
her up for a brisk whipping with the peach switch, each stroke bringing
fresh tears to her eyes and cries to her lips as he whipped her thighs,
front and back, then up and down her buttocks. Then he whipped her flat
little breasts and nipples again and again and again, pausing every now and
then to pinch and squeeze her nipples (a refinement he thought up on his
own). She moaned and moaned, swaying with faintness from the raging feelings
running through her: embarrassment, some pain, and a strange warmth
spreading up from her very core that confused and exhilarated her at the
same time. Then he brought the switch up with some force between her legs
over and over, and she nearly screamed, so intense was the punishment and so
hot the fire that burned between her legs. Then suddenly he pulled her down
onto his lap, lubricated his fingers, and pierced her little rosebud, and
penetrated and probed her anus! She cried out wildly and struggled briefly,
but he held her tight, and reached around with his other hand and seized her
cleft and clitoris so that it was as if she was struck dumb; she could
hardly move or speak for a few minutes as he probed and probed her, and
roughly kneaded and pinched the lips of her vulva, and her clitoris. Soon
her breath came ragged and short, her little hips were bucking rhythmically
up and down, alternately pressing her anus against one hand, and her
girlcleft against the other. She cried out over and over, "OO-OO-OO-OOO!"
and then came, nearly screaming out in her little-girl passion. Then she
collapsed in his arms, and he held her tight, kissing her and stroking her
hair, breathing in the scent of her, hardly knowing what he was feeling, but
wishing he could be with her forever.
All too soon she arose from his lap and looked up at him with tear-filled
eyes, yet with a shy smile. "Wow! That was really something, wasn't it!" she
said. He could only nod weakly as he tenderly wiped her eyes with his shirt.
She surprised him with a big hug, then skipped across the sand, waving back
with a cheery, "See you tomorrow!" Little did they know!
That day Tammie's governess, bored for something to do, happened to have
followed after the girl, for once. Partly inebriated, it was some time
before she realized what was happening. By the time she did, Tammie was
already headed for home. The governess followed closely after, and that
evening poured out the whole scenario (as filtered through her haze!) to the
girl's father.
The professor was barely able to contain his anger enough to remain calm as
he questioned the little girl closely about her playmate. She was
unaccustomed to hiding anything from her father, and, although she knew
somehow that she and the boy's activities were better left secret, couldn't
really think of a reason not to tell him all about it. After all, Carl's
father was the one who told him to do those things, wasn't he? And he was a
grown-up, so that should have been all right.
But, of course, it wasn't. Tammie was heartbroken to find out that she was
forbidden to even see Carl again, let alone play with him. She cried herself
to sleep that night. Eventually she came to understand her father's view,
and she looked back on her time with Carl with great confusion, remembering
the pleasure/pain, but also deeply embarrassed and distraught at the idea of
how a boy had had such free reign with her body.
The next day, Carl waited on the beach for Tammie. When she didn't come, he
decided to go to her father's bungalow. To his surprise and distress, her
father bellowed at him from a window, accusing him of nearly raping his
little girl, and commanding him to go away from his house and never see his
daughter again. Confused and deeply pained, he fled back to his home.
His father, suspecting something like this would happen sooner or later, and
hearing of the boy's unexpected return, sought him out and queried him on
the day's events. Incensed at the professor's treatment of his son, he vowed
to get revenge, and with a few well-placed phone calls, set in motion a
chain of events that would seal the professor's fate, and his daughter's!
4 years later...
The boy is now 17. He has not forgotten the little girl, but he has much
else to occupy his mind. He has converted to Christianity, but secretly, as
he knows his father does not approve. Meanwhile he works hard at his studies
in school, so he can qualify for the best architectural schools.
All around him his friends and acquaintances have been acquiring their
girlslaves. He is one of the last ones without one. He feels great conflict,
especially considering his experiences with the little girl. He feels that
he betrayed her, and he has a certain resentment against his father for
setting him up to do it, but he somehow feels that he himself should have
resisted, and not taken advantage of her childish trust. Even though he did
not set out to do it for his pleasure, he mostly remembers how good it did
feel, and he feels ashamed, even though he regularly masturbates to the
memories of punishing her sweet little body.
Every day at school he must face the sight of girl after girl, all 10 to 13
years old, being spanked, whipped, and fondled by their young masters
(actual rape is forbidden on school grounds). Even though he tries to turn
away from their torment, he still can hear their soft cries and moans, and
the slap of the whip. Just the other day, a friend had invited him over to
his house after school. His friend had just received his slave, a pretty if
slightly plump doe-eyed 11 year old. The friend had demonstrated how
responsive the girl was, applying a standard mix of spanking, whipping, and
direct stimulation to bring her to a quite impressive orgasm for such a
little girl. Then he invited Carl to try.
Carl hesitantly picked up a ruler. It was almost as if his hand had a mind
of its own. Before he knew it, he was systematically spanking the young girl
on her thighs and buttocks, and carefully laying stroke after stroke
directly on her cleft and anus as she crouched in knee-chest position,
whimpering and moaning with each WAK! Soon she was shaking and crying out,
and nearly came again. Disturbed by both her response and his own, Carl
dropped the ruler, stammered some excuse, and fled for home. Their he
desperately masturbated, his mind filled with confusing images of both his
friend's slave and the little girl, now grown in his mind to a sweet,
slender preteen.
For the girl it had been a somber 4 years. Due to the influence of the boy's
father, the professor had lost his position at the college. He had managed
to survive by taking part-time teaching jobs, but over the last year these
too had petered out. Soon his meager savings were exhausted. He was forced
into bankruptcy, and, to pay his bills, his daughter was taken from him and
sold into slavery just a few months ago.
She was sent to a standard facility for the training of new slaves. Little
is told to them about what awaits them, but they are drilled in a few
things, including how they are to address their new masters. Then she is
sent to auction. The bidding is fierce, for she is as fresh and sweet as
they come, but the boy's father has been watching from afar, and, to
complete the professor's agony he purchases the girl for his son.
A few days later, the boy is trudging home from school. He is tired, and has
only an evening of studying to look forward to. In his arms are a heavy
bunch of books, held together by a bungee cord.
He opens the door to his room and steps inside. Across the room from him,
huddled in his easy chair alternately staring into space or burying her face
in her hands, is a young girl. At his entrance, she is startled and jumps to
her feet. He notices the movement and looks up.
There in front of him is a vision. A sweet preteen, with a face like an
angel in despair. Many things begin to happen at once, in both of their
minds, and in physical reality. He recognizes her. An intense mix of shame,
love, desire, and outright lust floods his being. He stands stupefied,
seemingly unable to move at the sight of her. In a flash he knows what she
is there for, and what she is going to do...
In her mind is even greater confusion, and many levels of activity. On the
surface she is mercifully numb. She knows that she is about to enter into
what she has been taught by her father will be a life of degradation, at
least to some extent. She is moving by rote, taught at the slavery center.
Her will remains inert.
She also recognizes him, and this provokes different reactions in her. She
thinks, "Oh, no! It's him! He'll resent me because of what my father said to
him, and treat me more harshly! He's going to punish me just like he did
before, and then rape me!" A shot of fear breaks through her numb exterior.
But the thought of being punished and raped by anyone has been a conflicted
thought for her. She has not been able to forget how she felt before when
Carl punished her, and, almost against her will, she has fantasized about
the treatment she might receive at a stranger's hands, sometimes
masturbating herself to orgasm at the thought. And now, at the sight of the
boy, buried deep down there is a well of desire inside her. But she does
not recognize it, yet.
But somehow, even deeper down, buried so far that she will not recognize it
for some time, but yet exerting an ameliorating influence on her present
experience, is the knowledge that she immediately has when she recognizes
him: everything will be all right. He will take care of her. He loves her.
But meanwhile, as if programmed, she begins what she was trained to do. She
stands in the prescribed position: feet close enough together that, were the
straps of her shift to come off her shoulders, it would fall unencumbered to
the floor around her ankles, but far enough apart that, but for that same
shift that only barely covered her nakedness, her unfledged girlcleft could
be clearly seen. She says, "Hello, Master, I am your new slave. My body is
yours to use for your pleasure..." As she says this, her hands move to the
straps of her shift...
From the moment he recognizes her and realizes what she will do, Carl's mind
is seemingly in pieces. Part of him is as numb as she is, awestruck at the
sight of her. Part of him he is deeply ashamed of: that part is already
lusting after her sweet body, looking forward to punishing her and raping
her. Part of him is just flat-out in love at the sight of her.
But the rational part, the architect in his mind, is screaming at the rest
of him: "Fool! Wake up! Get over there! Stop her, you know what she's going
to do! Don't let her; it'll break her heart!" and a variety of other similar
imprecations. As he sees her hands move towards the straps of her shift, the
spell is finally broken. Even as she pushes the straps off her shoulders,
and her skimpy shift falls to the floor, he drops his books with a THUD and
lunges forward.
Even as he is racing towards her, shouting, "NO, don't, stop!" and other
incoherencies, he is struck by the sight of her sweet naked body. She is
heartbreakingly slender. Her breasts are just beginning to form. Her still
unfledged girlcleft peeps out from between her thighs. She shrinks back from
him, alarmed by the sound of the books hitting the floor, his manic rush
towards her, and his wild commentary. She fears the worst.
But he awkwardly bends down and tries to pull her shift back up. Even as he
does so, he can't help but notice her sweet sex as he brings the neckline up
past her hips. But it catches on her nipples, erect with fear and
excitement, and as he pulls it out to free it, she twists, and finally he
gets it up and puts the straps back on her shoulders. She just looks at him
in mingled fear, exhaustion, and puzzlement. But deep inside her, that
conviction that everything will be all right is blossoming, not yet in her
conscious awareness, but slowly building, and exerting a calming influence.
Meanwhile he is keeping up a steady stream of awkward reassurances, telling
her everything will be all right, he's not going to do anything to her she
doesn't want him to, he'll take care of her, etc. Even as he says all this,
he notices her swaying with exhaustion brought on by anxiety more than
anything. He quickly and gently guides her back down on to the chair and
continues to try and reassure her. She just stares at him, tears beginning
to stream down her cheeks. His rational side is screaming at him, "Fool!
She's crying! Help her, you fool!"
Finally he notices her tears. Berating himself, he pulls out his
handkerchief and begins to dry her eyes. She gently reaches up and holds the
handkerchief. She looks at it, then at him, then at it, then at him, and
breaks out in sobs, burying her head on his chest, clinging to him as her
shoulders shake. Hesitantly he puts his arms around her. She clings to him
even more fiercely, and, encouraged, he holds her to him firmly and
comfortingly as she pours out her fear and heartbreak.
After a while her sobs subside to sniffles, but she remains clinging to him.
He is sensitive to the situation, and doesn't want to take advantage of her,
so when she moves a little, just shifting position really, he immediately
lets go a bit of her in case she wants to pull back. She misinterprets this
as him wanting to let go, so she does pull back, and the moment is gone. But
not forever!
Even as she pulls back, she is swaying with fatigue. Noticing this, he leans
down and scoops her up in his arms. She feels a sudden pang of fear that he
is now going to betray her, and ravish her anyway, as her dress slides up a
bit and her bare thigh rests on his arms, and he lays her on his bed. But he
just pulls the blankets up to her chin, strokes her hair off her forehead
and kisses her there, tells her he'll be just outside the door if she needs
anything, turns out the light, and leaves the room. She is asleep almost
immediately, finally content.
Then began another happy time for the two, if a little frustrating for him!
He drank in the sight and sound of her with great satisfaction, but his
nights were filled with desire, as she lay with him on his bed, innocently
trusting in his gallantry, driving him to distraction in her skimpy shift.
He would regularly masturbate when he thought she was asleep, guiltily
imagining doing all the things to her now he had done to her before, and
more!
During the days he did not take her to school. This was not unheard of; some
masters preferred to keep even the sight of their slaves all to themselves.
But he brought his schoolwork home with him, and taught her, and sometimes
her bright mind would even surprise him, and figure something out before he
did.
For a while she remained oblivious to the sexual aspect of their
relationship. Her recent experiences had driven such thoughts out of her
mind for a while. She almost obstinately clung to her image of him as a
protector and friend, and not as a lover or master. And he did nothing to
change that view, for he considered it his duty to be just that to her.
One day something happened that began to change the situation. The household
was large, but usually Carl and Tammie were left to their own devices. Carl
was careful to advise the girl to stay near his suite, for slave girls were
not entirely immune from attention by men other than their masters. Indeed
it was considered appropriate to punish any slave girl found away from her
master, but direct sexual contact or raping her was forbidden. She often
slipped away to the house library, however, irresistibly drawn by the
immense variety of books. She loved to read.
One day, while Carl was at school, the house had unexpected visitors.
Distant cousins of the boy had arrived. Carl didn't know about the visit
beforehand, so he was unable to warn the girl. So there she was in the
library, when in walked a stranger, a boy of about 19, with his leggy 14
year old slave in tow. When he saw the girl, he said, "Oho! So hears the
secret slave Carl keeps hidden away! Strayed from your master, have you? I
guess I'll have to teach you a lesson, young lady. Come here and bend over
this chair!" He expected obedience. It never occurred to him that she would
disobey, so he was unprepared when, after a moment's shock, she bolted and
ran for Carl's door!
When he recovered from his surprise, he ordered his slave, "After her! Don't
let her get away!" and she took off running to catch Tammie. She was tall,
and faster than the littler girl, but by a desperate burst of speed at the
end, she managed to make it inside and close and lock the door. The other
slave beat against the door in frustration and fear, knowing what was to
come.
Tammie, on the other side of the door, could not help but hear: "So you let
her get away, did you? Well, then, young lady, you'll have to get what she
would have. And more! Bend over under my arm, right now!" Then the girl
heard the sounds of a brisk, businesslike spanking, accompanied by the other
slave's frenzied moans and cries! Soon the sound of a riding crop whistling
through the air could be heard, followed by the WAP of contact and the
slave's anguished reaction. From the slave's cries of, "Oh, sir, you're
whipping my breasts!" Tammie could tell just what was happening. The cries
became more intense, and it soon became clear that the poor girl was being
whipped on her anus and girlcleft. Then her master without further ado
picked her up and brought her down with force directly on his rod, raping
her tender abused girlcleft while the girl nearly screamed as she came.
As she listened to the action, drawn seemingly against her will, the young
girl's hand strayed to her own girlcleft. Soon she was almost absentmindedly
stroking herself, and as the punished girl reached climax, so did she.
Despite her terror at almost being severely punished by a strange master,
the little girl also found the idea of being punished almost attractive
again. Once more fantasies of punishment, now by her own "master" filled her
mind. Starting that night, she began to masturbate as she lay in bed next to
him, when she thought he was asleep.
One night, as she was lying quietly, she became aware of him breathing
heavily. Consciously afraid he might be ill (but subconsciously knowing full
well what was going on) she flipped on the light, only to find him with his
rod in his hand and a very guilty look! He was mortified, and mumbled
apology after apology for doing such a thing, when she stopped him and said,
"That's OK; I do it too!" "You do??" he asked incredulously. "Uh huh!" she
answered. And no more was said. But from then on, after the lights were out,
they could hear each other's heavy breathing almost every night. Sometimes
they would chuckle when they both were done, and say, "Good night," and roll
over and go to sleep.
Sometime after that, the girl was bored, and prowled about his suite looking
for something to do. She got into one of his closets, and found a box she
hadn't noticed before. It was marked with the name of the slave training
compound where she had been. Intensely curious, she opened it.
Inside was all manner of punishment implements: whips, switches, riding
crops, ropes, clips, dildos (she had never seen one, but she could guess
what they were for!) and the like. She shivered as she pulled out each one
and realized its uses. She imagined each one being applied to her tender
flesh. The pain. The humiliation. The thought made her almost cry, but it
also excited her in some way. She began to think back again to the times he
had punished her as a child. It had hurt, it was true, but not very much,
even as a little girl. Surely she could take more, now. Perhaps he could use
these horrible implements on her in...a lighter way.
But what about the rest of it? She had caught that glimpse of his rod. She
thought of him raping her. Butterflies were in her stomach. She turned her
attention to something else, but her thoughts kept coming back and back to
it.
That night, as they were getting ready for bed, she suddenly asked him,
"What do you think about when you...you know?" "I don't want to talk about
it," he said, shamefacedly. "But I really want to know. Please tell me,
please? I won't mind, no matter what it is, honest!" she wheedled. Finally,
partly in curiosity to see how she would respond, he said, "I think about
you, of course!" "That's sweet!" she replied, "I think about you, too!" "You
do??" he asked, even more incredulously. "Uh huh. But what about me do you
think about?" she persisted. In a low voice, he said, "I think about doing
that stuff to you that I used to do; and more!" "So do I!" she exclaimed
excitedly. His jaw dropped; he was so shocked he couldn't even respond.
She plunged ahead: "I found this box..." and she ran to the closet and
hauled it out. He groaned, "Oh, no, you weren't supposed to find that!
Listen, don't worry, I'll never do that stuff to you..." She cut him off,
"No, no, that's OK! I've been thinking: all this stuff in here, you could
use it on me kinda like you used to punish me before. You didn't hurt me too
much then, I don't think you'll hurt me too much now. `Sides, I'm bigger now
so I should be able to take more punishment, don't you think?" It took a lot
of effort on her part to convince him she really wanted it, but in the end
he had to agree.
They looked into each other's eyes. By now they both knew that each other
was a Christian. He took her hand and asked her to marry him. She said yes,
of course. He held her for a long time, and kissed her and kissed her. It
felt so good to have her in his arms again, especially when he knew his long
wait was over.
Without further ado, he told her, "All right, young lady, you've needed a
spanking for a long time, and now you're going to get it! Come here right
this instant!" She shuffled over, mock-reluctantly, and he unceremoniously
bent her under his arm, threw up her dress, and gave her a brisk,
businesslike spanking, right on her bare bottom. WAP! WAK! "Oh, Ah! AAAH!"
she moaned and squirmed under his ministrations.
Then he bent her over his desk, and took a ruler to the backs of her thighs,
alternating his strokes from one to the other. WAP! SWAK! "AAH! OOO!" she
cried out with each stroke. Then he turned her around and bent her backwards
over the desk and whipped the bare front of her thighs. She realized what
she had not known before, when she was little, how sexual it felt to be
spanked on the front of the thighs instead of the back. She yelped and
yipped as he brought it down across her thighs again and again. Then he took
her to the bed and sat her down. After gently kissing her upturned face on
her forehead, her eyelids, and her sweet mouth, he pushed the straps of her
shift off her shoulders, letting it fall to her waist, exposing her little
breast buds. They hadn't changed much from the one glimpse he had had of
them that first day; they were still very small, just barely showing
something more than just flat chest. Her nipples, however, were a bit bigger
than they were. He spent some time just admiring the view, as she blushed
nearly down to the tips of her breasts. Then he reached out and took hold of
her breasts with both hands, causing her to gasp. He proceeded to knead and
work her little breasts, and pinch and twist her nipples. Her breath hissed
as she inhaled through her teeth and moaned again and again.
Then he took a riding crop and, without warning, brought it down sharply
across her little breasts. WAP! "AAAA!" she cried out wildly. He whipped her
breasts again and again as her cries filled the room. Then he stood her up
so that her dress fell off her completely. He walked around and around her,
tapping the riding crop in his palm, and occasionally reaching out to whip
her in various places: her calves, her buttocks, her breasts, her thighs.
Then he commanded her to spread her legs. Knowing what was next, she
dithered for a moment, so he said, "Right now, young lady!" and gave a sharp
WAP to her breasts for emphasis. She hurriedly spread her thighs apart,
exposing her still-unfledged girlcleft. He stared at her for a while. She
trembled in anticipation. Then he brought the riding crop up sharply between
her legs. SWACK! "OOOOO!" she nearly screamed, and kept crying out over and
over as he kept up a steady stream of smacks on her most tender place. Just
when she thought she could take it no longer, he stopped, and swept her up
in his arms, kissing her and kissing her as she smiled up at him through her
tears.
"It's time for your final punishments, young lady," he whispered hoarsely.
She trembled in anticipation as he arranged her on the bed, on her back with
her legs high above her, her ankles resting on his shoulders. He lubricated
her and probed her anus again and again as he rubbed her clitoris,
alternating with sharp smacks to her cleftlips that made her jump and moan.
Then he placed the head of his rod against her tender, delicate bottomflower
and thrust inside her, raping her of the maidenhood of her anus! THRUST!
"OOO-OOO-OOOO!" she cried out repeatedly as he raped her and raped her, his
thick rod probing and returning, pulling out almost all the way, only to ram
home again. In a very short time she was coming, with short screams of
anguished pleasure, and he came too, filling her little bottom with his
seed.
She lay in his arms for a while, burning and murmuring. Then he picked her
up and carried her to the bathroom and placed her in the shower. He washed
her thoroughly with a rough terrycloth, scrubbing particularly carefully on
her nipples, anus, and clitoris. When she involuntarily squirmed away from
his ministrations, he sternly pushed her front up against the wall of the
shower, so that her nipples and cleft were pressed against the cold tile,
and whacked her bottom and thighs with the ruler. Then he brought it up
between her legs full upon her cleft and anus and clitoris. She cried out
and nearly came again. Then he finished washing her, and she held still this
time!
After cleaning up, he took her out of the shower and dried her off with a
rough towel, again working diligently on her nipples, anus and cleft. Then
he took her back to the bedroom, and, leaving her standing naked in the
middle of the room, pulled a rope out of the box. He passed it between her
legs and pulled it up, taut, against her cleft and anus. Then he pulled it
back and forth, back and forth, again and again, while she moaned and
moaned, working her hips back and forth trying to accommodate the rough rope
pressing against her tender cleft.
Finally he could hold back no longer. He took her back to the bed and lay
her tenderly down on the soft mattress. He held her close for a while. Then
his fingers moved down to her cleft and began to explore her, and probe
against her maidenhead, and pinch and twist her clitoris. Soon her breath
came short and ragged, and her cleft lips were moistened. Then he parted her
legs with his knees and without further ado proceeded to rape her of her
maidenhead, thrusting deep within her still-smarting cleflips, driving to
the hilt with his first thrust as she screamed in pain and almost passed
out. Then, still staying buried in her, he held her tight and kissed the top
of her head as she sobbed.
Soon her sobs subsided to sniffles. She could feel him deep within her, his
hard rod pulsating in her violated cleft. He began to thrust in and out
again, first long and slow, then fast and hard. Despite the pain in her
cleft, she began to feel that wave building in her again, and all too soon
she was screaming out once more as she came and came, but then was forced to
endure beyond that as he continued to rape her and rape her until he finally
came again, this time spilling his seed into her little-girl's vagina as she
cried out with passion.
She fell asleep in his arms, his rod still inside her. She would awake to
his whip on her breasts in the middle of the night, as he punished her
again, his thick, hard rod raping her tender anus and girlcleft repeatedly,
forcing her to come again, and again, and again.
The End?
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