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Subject: A BOY AND HIS GIRL (ped, bdsm, abuse, incest)
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Date: Wed, 19 Jan 2005 18:12:05 -0800
===================
A BOY AND HIS GIRL (ped, bdsm, abuse, incest)
BY C C
cc_2222@mail.com
[ part 1 ]
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 particulars it is 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 has its own idiosyncrasy. This society was formed by adherents of the
ancient "BDSM" lifestyle. Although not as "hard" as it could be (like the
Gorean planets), nor as "soft", it maintains a robust presence pretty much
throughout all strata of society. Almost all sexual relations are in the
BDSM mode. Indeed most of the women (and the older girls) are officially
some man or other's slave, although the practice has been hedged about with
legal and cultural restrictions, designed to protect the females from
serious
harm, mutilation, or undesired pregnancy. Most slave relations end in
marriage,
although the BDSM activity continues, and a wife is considered pretty much
her husband's slave anyway. A master is expected to cherish his slave,
protect
her, and see to her needs, including sexual needs. It is considered the
pinnacle
of 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
achieve
this with any regularity; most don'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 last more than a day are frowned upon, and unplanned
pregnancies result in the slave's choice of marriage or freedom, with or
without adoption of the child. The father is responsible for the child's
upkeep in any event, unless adopted out.
Girls are usually sold into slavery at around 10-12 years old, most often
to a teenage boy known to the girl's family; marriage is typical in such
cases. The boy then takes over the girl's schooling, and often takes her
to school with him, both for her instruction in academics, and for his
amusement
during the day. Boys and girls are often taught by parents or governesses
until teenage years (for the boys) or slavery (for the girls). Boys
subsequently
go to the academies which are essentially the same as Jr High and High
Schools.
Both boys and girls are typically shielded from most BDSM behavior until
the age when girls are sold, so as to heighten the surprise and
embarrassment
of the girl's first punishment. Corporal punishment of children is 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 enjoy a relatively prominent position, although rarely
as rulers. They have sometimes been tolerated rather than looked up to, but
they have been 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, some of them
only 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 shift 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 cleftlips, 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.
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