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From: "Nikki@P.U."
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.incest
Subject: SARA AND ME (ped, bdsm, abuse)
Date: Thu, 21 Oct 2004 17:34:48 -0700
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SARA AND ME (ped, bdsm, abuse)
BY C C
cc_2222@mail.com
SMACKK! My hard hand spanked my little girl directly on her cleft, and
she cried out, "AAAH!" My other hand insinuated between the cheeks of
her bottom and pierced, penetrated, and probed her anus, as I continued
to punish her tender sex. She moaned, and writhed, clearly nearing
climax. Noticing this, I pushed her back onto the bed, and, positioning
my rod at her unfledged cleft lips, I thrust deeply into her virgin
girlhood. She nearly screamed, crying out, "Oh, Daddy, you're raping me!
You're taking my maidenhead! Oh, DADDY! AAAAAH!" In a few strokes she
was coming, her little hips pushing up almost against her will to better
receive the punishment - rape. Even after she was spent I continued to
rape her abused cleft for a few more minutes as she trembled and
whimpered, until I finally deigned to empty myself at her cervix. Then I
collapsed over her, covering her little body with mine.
After a few minutes she pushed me halfway off and sat up, saying, "Wow,
that was something! But we're gonna have to be more careful, Hon; we're
gonna wake up the baby!" I just grinned at my wife. I knew her too well
by now; quiet wasn't on the agenda when we played "Daddy's little girl
gets punished"!
Our relationship was so fine; little was I to know that it would end so
prematurely and sadly, yet even so have such a wonderful silver lining...
We actually had no children ourselves; the "baby" was her 5-year-old
niece, her sister's child. The sister birthed her out-of-wedlock, the
father nowhere to be found, and then fairly promptly died a
drug-associated death to no one's surprise, leaving the baby with my
wife-to-be. I'm sure much of what attracted her to me was my willingness
to take on an "instant family" and be a father to her little niece.
Nearly everyone we met, at church or store or wherever, assumed she was
my own child.
Meanwhile my wife and I developed our game of "Daddy and daughter",
cranking our sex life into overdrive! At the same time she seemed to
have no problem with me in the role of "Daddy" for her little niece. She
encouraged me to take part in her care, including bathing and
discipline. Little Sara got a paddling pretty frequently, being a
normal, active child. Whenever I was home my wife expected me to "take a
hand", literally! If she could tell how hard it made me, having pretty
Sara over my knee, my hand reddening her little bottom, or washing and
drying her sweet little body, she never let on. Of course she never even
came close to encouraging any action beyond that, nor was I about to try
anything, since we didn't live in a country that allowed either polygamy
or underage marriage.
But all this changed quite suddenly when my wife died in a car wreck,
just miles from our house. I was home with Sara at the time. I won't go
into the details of the grief, the questions from Sara, the recovery
period. They don't bear remembering.
I wondered if there would be any problems about Sara staying with me,
but I said nothing to anyone else, and no one said anything to me. She
had no other relatives closer than a second cousin, as far as I knew,
and no one else had taken an interest in her. She looked on me as her
daddy, anyway.
By the time I started taking an interest in life again, she was around
7, and cute as a button. I became aware of a few minor but troublesome
behavior patterns that had set in. Nothing really serious, but it was
time to reestablish discipline. I had been remiss, wallowing in my
grief. I had to put a stop to it, so I "took her in hand".
"Sara!" I called her to me one evening after a day of occasional minor
mischief. She came, but in a dilatory fashion that was not appropriate
obedience at all, at all! I grabbed her arm as she came in range and
pulled her right down over my lap. I tossed up her dress and pulled her
panties down to her knees. "Young lady," I lectured, "you've been out of
line for a while, and it's high time I put a stop to it. This is just
the beginning!"
With that I commenced to give her a brisk, business-like spanking,
bringing cries to her lips and tears to her eyes before I was done.
After it was over I rubbed her bottom for a while, soothingly, then gave
her a big hug, enjoying the feel of her clinging to me, staining my
shirt with her tears, but clearly accepting, even forgiving me for
punishing her. It seemed to improve her behavior for a while, too, not
that there was that much to improve on to begin with. She really was a
good little girl; she just got carried away sometimes.
As time went on I continued to punish her frequently. Soon it was nearly
every day. I varied it a bit; a spanking here, a switching on her thighs
there, occasionally my belt on her thighs and bottom. I really didn't
punish her hard, never leaving more than a faint red mark that faded
slowly. Sometimes I almost suspected that she purposefully misbehaved in
some way, so as to earn herself a spanking. And I always finished up by
rubbing wherever I punished her. Naturally I was stiff as a board by the
time I let her up!
At ten, she had developed into a stunning preteen. Long, silky hair, the
face of an angel, and a body that was heartbreakingly slender, barely
flaring at the hips, nipples only slightly larger than they were at
seven. She was completely adorable. Sweet and smart, fun to be around,
she really gave me no trouble at all with her schoolwork (she was
homeschooled), going to church, or cleaning up her room.
I still managed to find some excuse or other to punish her almost daily.
It was around that time that her punishments began to...migrate. I found
myself using the belt on her more and more, purposefully angling it so
that the end snapped against her anus or girlcleft. Like I said, I never
whipped her hard, but her response to her punishment began to be very
stimulating to me. She would tremble, and moan, and seem to push her
little bottom out to receive my hand, or tilt her slender pelvis forward
for the belt on her vulva.
After a while I made no pretense of punishing her sexually "by
accident". After a typical bare bottom spanking, I would often order her
to strip naked, and stand up with her legs apart, giving her a
half-playful smack on her bottom to motivate her. Then I would punish
her with various implements: hand, belt, a wooden spoon on her little
cleft; occasionally even a riding crop across her nipples. When I rubbed
her afterwards, my hands meandered from her bottom and thighs to her
chest, pinching and tweaking her nipples and breast buds, then pressing
insistently against her bottomflower and girlcleft, as her breath came
ragged and short. I don't think she ever actually came during her
"punishments", but she seemed close to it.
You wouldn't believe the temptation I was under to simply rape her and
be done with it, or at least use her mouth to relieve myself. But, as
bad as my actions may have been, I didn't want to go over that line. I
could always fool myself into thinking that what I did to her could
somehow be legitimate punishment, even though at some level I knew it
wasn't. Still, something had to give.
I guess subconsciously I was testing the waters. At any rate, I began to
mention to Sara that I was thinking about getting married again. Of
course I had no one in particular in mind, and if she'd thought about
it, she should have known that nothing like that would happen anytime
soon. I hadn't even had a date since her aunt had died.
I suppose it was predictable. "Daddy," she asked one night, right after
I had given her a quick spanking before bed, "Why do you want to get
married again?"
"Well, punkin, it's kinda hard to explain. But a man sort of needs a
wife around, to help him and keep him company and stuff," I replied.
"But you've got me around!" she proclaimed, indignantly, "And I can help
out a lot! Don't you like having me around?" she added, mournfully (and
manipulatively!).
"A brat like you? Why should I like that?" I responded, winking, and
grabbed her and tickled her until she lay sprawling on the floor,
giggling. I flopped down beside her and we lay there together for a
while, with an occasional tickle and giggle thrown in.
Suddenly she popped up on her elbows, looked at me seriously, and said,
"I'll be your wife! You don't need anybody else!"
Well! With an opening like that, how could I resist?! But I wanted her
to think about this carefully, to be aware of the significance.
"Honeypie," I said solemnly, "Do you really know what that means?"
She looked at the floor for a moment. Then she looked up at me shyly and
said softly, "It means you get to rape me, doesn't it?"
The question hung in the air between us, revolving lazily. My head
buzzed. I could barely breathe. Vertigo, and a sudden jolt of...joy
pierced me, so sharp it almost was nauseating. "Yes, it does," I finally
managed to croak.
I think she might have mistaken my pallor, sweat, and unsteadiness as
displeasure. She got up slowly and said, "I know, but you don't want me
'cuz I'm so little and not sexy like big girls." She turned and trudged
off towards her room.
I've never been a sprinter, but I think I could have beaten any Olympic
champion from the floor to her side that day! I took her in my arms and
held her for a while. Then I looked into her sweet, trusting, sad eyes,
and poured out my heart to her. How I loved her, and wanted to cherish
her and be with her always. How I desired her sweet little body. How
there was no one else in the world I would rather marry than her. The
look on her face was worth more than all the jewels in the world, as she
flung herself into my arms in a fierce embrace while I buried my face in
her hair.
She pulled back for a moment and looked up at me. "You'll still punish
me when we're married, won't you?" she asked, astonishing me again. I
pushed the haze out of my head long enough to acknowledge that, yes
indeed, I would punish her after we were married! Then ensued more
hugging, and tender little kisses.
After a while I whispered in her ear, "You know you've been a naughty
girl, and you need to be punished, don't you?" I nearly held my breath,
waiting.
After a long beat, she just said, "Yes, Sir."
I stood her up, bent her under my arm, and gave her a brisk,
business-like spanking, WAPWAPWAPWAPWAP! She whimpered and yelped,
"AAAH! OHOHOH! AAA!" as she danced from foot to foot.
I stood her back up, and unceremoniously pulled her dress over her head,
and her panties down to her ankles, and commanded her to kick them off.
Now she stood in only her knee socks and loafers, looking like an angel
in despair after her spanking. I pulled my belt off and ran it through
my fingers as she looked on, eyes widening, trembling in anticipation. I
strolled around her naked form, slapping my doubled-up belt in my palm,
admiring her slim hips, flat chest with nipples barely breaking the
plane, cute little bottom, and most darling of all, her unfledged
girlcleft peeping out from between her slender thighs.
Suddenly I swung the belt onto the backs of her thighs, SWAP! "OH!" she
cried out, and then, "AAA! OOOOO! AH-AH-AH!" as I continued to whip her
thighs and bottom. I took the strap-end of the belt and paddled her
nipples with it, SMAKSMAKSMAK! "AAAAAH! OO-OO-OO-OO!" she cried out
wildly. Soon her nipples were erect and fetchingly reddened. I paused
for a moment to seize her little nipples and breast buds, kneading them
and working them as she moaned and writhed.
I picked her up and carried her lithe form to the bedroom. Laying her on
the bed I quickly fastened my mouth to her nipples, sucking and
nibbling. Moving south I found her jewel of a navel, and blew a flurbish
into it, making her squeal and giggle. Then my mouth slid down, down, to
her maidenhood. I probed her with my tongue, pressing firmly against her
hymen, making her cry out. Then I caught her clitoris in a long,
excruciating bite between tongue and teeth.
She began to come. I quickly stood up and brought the belt down across
her swollen, glistening cleft lips. She nearly screamed as she bucked up
and down in the throes of her little preteen orgasm. As she shuddered
out the last of it I swept her up in my arms and held her close. She
clung fiercely to me, her tears staining my collar as her tremors slowly
subsided. After a while I lay her gently down on the bed, kissed her
forehead, and whispered, "Good night, little love." She was asleep
before I pulled the covers to her chin.
The next day I swiftly set in motion plans I had been working on for
some time, in hopes that she would be...receptive. Having researched the
marriage laws in various countries, I moved us to ******, and bought a
secluded villa equipped with adequate security apparatus and well water.
I located a justice of the peace who, with well-greased palm, was
willing to marry us.
When we got home I enfolded her in my arms for a long time, just
reveling in the knowledge that she was completely mine. The top of her
head came to the middle of my chest. I knuzzled her hair as she buried
her face in my shirt. But I couldn't bear to wait much longer. I
disentangled myself from her arms, and whispered in her ear, "You know
you've been a naughty girl, don't you?" She nodded, shyly. "And naughty
girls have to be punished, don't they?" She just hung her head, peeping
up at me through her lowered lashes.
I bent her under my arm and tossed up her skirt. Her bottom gleamed bare
in the light; I had ordered her not to wear any panties.
SMACK-SMACK-SMACK! I paddled her rapidly, alternating from one cheek to
the other. She whimpered and moaned, "Oh, Daddy, please! Oh, please, my
bottom!" as the redness appeared.
I stood her up and stripped her unceremoniously, leaving her naked in
front of me. She blushed prettily, down to the tips of her little
breasts, just barely breaking the plane of her chest; not breasts at
all, really, only nipples on top of breast buds. I took I had cut
previously, and snapped it across the front of her thighs, SWAK! She
jumped and cried out, "AAA!" and then, "OH! AH! OOOO!" again and again
as I switched her repeatedly, on her thighs, front and back, her
already-punished bottom, and then her nipples. She yipped and yiped at
the sting, "AH! Daddy, my little breasts! OOO!" I paused every now and
then to admire the network of thin red lines left by her punishment,
before they faded rapidly.
I laid her down on a couch, widely spread, and brought the switch down
sharply onto her unfledged girlcleft, SWACK! "AAAAAAA!" she nearly
screamed, and "OOO-OOO-OOOOH!" as the switch whistled through the air to
punish her little-girlhood again and again. Then I turned her over to
knee-chest position, and gave the same treatment to her tender, delicate
anus as she wailed and sobbed.
I cast away the switch, and let my hands roam over her body, as she
remained in knee-chest. I found her little nipples and toyed with them,
tweaking and pulling them, pinching and twisting as she sucked air in
through her teeth, then softly moaned, "SSSS-oooo!" I lubricated my
right hand fingers and pierced her anus, with first one, then two, and
finally with three fingers, penetrating and probing her, while my other
hand seized her clitoris and cleft lips, kneading and working them. A
steady stream of moans and gasps were torn from her lips. Soon she was
bucking, and her cleft lips were moistening. I gave her a few firm
spanks on her anus and cleft, and she began to come.
I raised up over her and plunged my lubricated rod into her preteen
bottomflower, raping her of the miadenhood of her anus. She screamed
briefly, then panted hoarsely as I began to work my tool in and out of
her, withdrawing almost to the tip, then plunging to the hilt as she
quivered and spasmed. I continued to molest her clitoris as I raped her,
and soon she was over the top again. I let go, and poured my seed into
her rectum. Then we collapsed on the bed together, panting and murmuring.
I took her into the shower. She moaned and struggled briefly as I firmly
scrubbed her cleft and anus with a terry washcloth, so I pressed her
nipples and cleft against the cold tile and paddled her sharply on her
bottom, thrust three soapy fingers into her abused anus and probed her,
then quicly withdrew and smacked her on her cleft. She sobbed, "Oh,
Daddy, please, I'll be good!" She held still for the rest of her
scrubbing, and for the vigorous toweling she received, firmly massaging
her tender nipples, cleftlips, and anus as she trembled and whimpered.
I covered her cleft with my hand, lifted her up that way, carried her to
the bed, and fastend my lips to her vulva. As I tongued her
already-punished little-girlhood, her cries intensified, from soft
little coos at first, to hoarse cries as her slender hips began to move
almost against her will.
It was time. I stood up, towering over her petite form, positioned my
rod at the opening of her little womb, then plunged in, raping her of
her maidenhead with one stroke, driving for her cervix, as she screamed
and writhed underneath me. I lay buried in her for a few minutes, my rod
throbbing in her abused vagina, as her distress died down to the
occasional sob and sniffle. I couldn't believe how tight and sweet her
little girlhood was. I began to rape her in earnest, long slow strokes
that took her breath away, then harder and quicker, grinding my pubic
bone against hers, as she cried out rhythmically with each thrust,
"AAA-AAA-AAA-AAA!"
Soon the stretching and stimulation of her abused clitoris made itself
known. Her cries became more intense and wild, her little hips moved of
their own accord, and then I was treated to the sight, sound, and feel
of a little preteen climaxing as I raped her, my hard rod buried deep
within her.
In the afterglow she lay in my arms, content, nearly asleep, a pretty
little preteen, mine to love and cherish, and to strip, spank, whip, and
rape, as long as we both shall live.
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