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Subject: A BOY AND HIS GIRL 1 of 2 (mf, cons, pedo, incest)
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A BOY AND HIS GIRL 1 of 2 (mf, cons, pedo, incest)

BY CC
cc2@afreeinternet.com








I am just a poster and not the author Of This Storie!

(mf, cons, pedo, incest)


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[ 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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