A Slavegirl of the Imperium
(M/g romantic spank reluc sci-fi)

Written by cc


	"Don't you mess this up, you little baby!" hissed Sela.

	"I won't! I won't!" exclaimed little Melinda. She had tagged along with the young teen more out of boredom than anything, and now was being roped into a food-stealing scheme. The booths of the vendors at the Festival lay before them. Tantalizing smells wafted through the air.

	Melinda vaguely knew that she shouldn't be doing this. She had spent some time in the company of a missionary who had come out of the Imperium to minister on this backwater planet. Under that devoted soul's guidance she had even converted, but she was, after all, only seven. Bad company and temptation are hard to avoid at seven.

	Melinda was a street girl in a provincial town, in a war-torn country, on a minor planet in a corner of the galaxy that the Imperium had not yet gotten around to annexing. She still had some semblance of a family: an aunt who, when not soused, at least provided the girl with a place to sleep and a crust of bread to eat, the money for which was earned by turning tricks for the soldiers that passed through town. But most of the time the girl was on the street, getting by as best she could.

	"Now get out there, and make it good! G'wan!" urged Sela.

	Melinda sidled out in front of the booths. She proceeded to put on a most fetching display, dancing around and singing in a sweet little voice some of the songs she had learned at the mission. All eyes were on her. Sela made her move, sliding around to the side of a fruit and vegetable stand. She scooped some produce into the folds of her dress and began to slip away.

	She tripped over a dog in the street. Yowling, the dog ran off. Fruit and vegetables rolled around. Sela yelped, and then jumped up, shouting, "Run Melinda!" and took off.

	Melinda probably could have stayed there safely. No one knew that she and Sela were together. But she ran. And she and Sela were both caught. Her older mentor was given over for a whipping. Because of her tender age, the little girl was sentenced to a public spanking instead.

	A crowd had gathered for the fun, of which Melinda was merely an appetizer, and Sela a side dish. A whore was sentenced to be flogged, and a murderer was scheduled to be hanged. Melinda was never sure afterwards if the older man who spanked her (the town schoolmaster, who doubled as the executioner) was trying to be kind to her or not. She was brought to him in the town building that overlooked the square. As he prepared her, he whispered in her ear, "I'm sorry I have to do this. I'll try not to hurt you too much. But it's better if I do it; if I refuse, they'll get someone else who'll spank you even harder! Just try to relax and not fight it, it'll be easier for you." Then he led her out in front of the onlookers.

	He turned her bottom towards the crowd and clipped the hem of her punishment shift up so that her buttocks were exposed to view. Catcalls and jeers came from some of the more cruel. Then he proceeded to spank her on her bare bottom with his open hand. SWAP! SWAP! "OOOO! AH! AH! OOOOH!" she cried piteously as the spanks rained down on her quivering buttocks. At the same time, he reached around almost casually with his other hand, ostensibly to hold her in place to receive her punishment. He seized her underdeveloped girlcleft with a firm hand, massaging and kneading her tender labia and clitoris. As he spanked her and spanked her with one hand, he probed her hymen with the other, then concentrated on her clitoris, pressing and pinching, twisting and pulling. The crowd could not see this activity, since her bottom was turned towards them. Even the girl was nearly unconscious of it, distraught as she was from her punishment, swaying in her tormenter's arms, breath short, knees weak, mouth dry, as she cried out and moaned with each SMACK! Soon the stimulation of her girlcleft made itself known. A strange wave came over her, beginning with her clitoris, then spreading with each spank to her bottom, and then throughout her being. Soon her cries became more and more wild, and she bucked and jerked in her punisher's arms. He sensed her nearing climax, so he suddenly spun her around, turning her little mons towards the onlookers. They hooted at the sight of the sweet young girl's most intimate area, but their glee was shortlived; her molester just gave her two quick hard swats on her vulva, and then hustled her inside the building, leaving the crowd panting for the next victim. The little girl was shaking and sobbing as she spent herself, confused and dizzy, overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensations in her moist girlcleft, rubbing and rubbing her abused bottom and labia.

	She fled from the town hall as soon as she could, but stopped as she heard the SNAP! and the cries of her "partner in crime" as the whip seized the older girl's bottom, and the crowd jeered and gawked. Sela howled and moaned, suspended by her wrists tied together and hung from a rafter, her legs parted by a bar fastened to her ankles. Melinda watched almost in spite of herself as the young teen received a stern whipping: buttocks, thighs, breasts, and even a few strokes directly onto her lightly fledged cleft. As Sela's tears flowed, Melinda found her hand straying towards her own cleft 

	Over the next few years the little girl would often relive the experience while lying on her mat at night, sometimes pretending to spank herself , sometimes picturing herself as Sela, receiving the same strict, intimate punishment she did, while rubbing her little clitoris, then spanking her own cleft as she came with little yips and moans.

	As the girl neared nine years old, times were getting worse. The wars were going poorly for the nation, though the town had been spared any actual combat. But food was scarce. The girl's aunt had gone from poor guardian to none. The girl now lived in any hovel and  scrounged for any scrap of food she could find.

	Rumors were filtering into town that the Imperium had arrived on-planet. They had allied themselves with the enemy. Against their advanced weapons, resistance was futile. Soldiers, the few that were left, were hurrying back to their homes. Soon the enemy soldiers arrived.

	Since there was no resistance, they were not as harsh as they might have been. There were no killings. There was no organized rape or torture. Individual soldiers seized individual women or girls for their pleasure, and there was some looting, but it seemed curiously restrained. The reason why was soon apparent.

	Imperial troops arrived shortly afterwards in force, escorting the new provincial governor, who planned to make the town the capital for the province. He had made some effort to ensure that there was little violence accompanying his assumption of power. He had given orders to limit the looting and rape. Slaves would be taken, as they always were when the Imperium came to power, but children would not be separated from their parents, nor wives from their husbands (when this became generally known, there was a spate of marriages among the teenagers of the town!). Still, there were plenty of street children, and poor families willing to sell their offspring, especially in these hard times. Naturally, Melinda was caught in the sweep.

	The new governor wanted there to be as little resentment towards himself and the Imperium as possible, so as to make governing easier. He also had another motive. Although such as he were in the minority in the Imperium, he was a devout man, and therefore wished to spare the populace excess suffering. He had devoted his life to military service with the Imperium, and now looked forward to spending the rest of his days keeping the peace and aiding in the development of this backwater culture.

	He was a quiet, studious man, tall and reserved. He had lost his wife in childbirth with their firstborn, who also died, and he buried his grief in his duties. Now he prepared to take up a new assignment. He was ready for a life of peace.

	As he proceeded to set up his residence, he toured the slave compound in order to choose some for his household. As he went down the aisles, picking 2 or 3 likely candidates, his eyes fell on the little girl. She was now at least partially cleaned up, and not wearing filthy rags; she was wearing the standard child's slave shift, a little short for her perhaps; it barely covered her bottom and cleft. She was heartbreakingly slender, and to his eyes seemed to have the face of an angel in despair. He did not linger over her; indeed he outwardly seemed not to notice her. But as he came back down the line, he seemed to almost negligently point her out and order her to be brought along as well, since "some use might be made of her in the kitchen or the laundry."

	He appeared to forget for a few days that he even had the little girlslave. But he eventually called for her to be brought to him, as all the slaves had been, so that he could formally assign them their place and give them into the charge of his housekeeper or groundskeeper. She was shown into his room. He was sitting in an easy chair beside the fireplace. He beckoned her to come over and kneel on the soft rug in front of him.

	"What's your name, little one?" he asked.

	"Melinda, an' it please you, m'Lord" she replied, having been coached by the slavemaster in how to address him.

	"That's a lovely name," he said. "You don't have to call me `m'Lord' or say `an' it please you' while we're alone together, though; just call me `Sir', all right?"

	"A-all right, Sir" she managed to stammer out, hoping she wasn't going to get herself into trouble. She had all ready seen another slave, a young woman too haughty for her own good, tied down and systematically whipped by the slavemaster for her insolence.

	He began to gently question her. Guilelessly she told him everything she knew about herself. He was entranced by the sweetness she retained despite her bitter life. He found himself desiring to protect her from any harm. He wanted to take no chances that she might fall afoul of the slavemaster or any other supervisor, or even any other slave.

	"Can you read?" he asked her.

	"Oh, yes, Sir! I love to read! The missionary taught me how. But I hardly ever get to read anything. Books are so expensive," she sighed.

	"I have many books," he told her, "Would you like to be my librarian?"

	"Wh-what's that?" she queried.

	"That's the person who manages the books, keeps them in order, and finds one for someone who needs one," he informed her.

	"I think I would love to do that! May I really? Sir?" she hastily added.

	And so he managed to place her directly under his supervision, and out of the way of his staff and the other slaves. He found himself often in the library, showing her some interesting tome or other, helping her figure out the filing system, and so forth. He was impressed with her intelligence, and charmed by her enrapturement at being surrounded by so many books. He even found her a help at times in clarifying some thorny issue of government.

	They talked often. Soon he even found himself unfolding to her details of his own life.

	"Sir, are you married?" she asked him.

	"I was," he replied briefly. "She died."

	"Oh, I'm so sorry, Sir!  I guess you'd rather not talk about it," and she turned away, pretending to busy herself with a book.

	He sighed. He looked at her for a while. Then, with the air of someone who has decided a difficult issue that has been long in the balance, he said, "No, it's all right. I'd like to talk about her, if you're willing to listen."

	"Of course, Sir! Please tell me about her!"

	"She was young when we were married. Older than you, but young. I'm not very wise, but I was wise enough to tell her all about myself before we were married. She understood, and she was kind and loving enough to fit her desires to mine. I was devastated when she died. I guess I went a little crazy for a while after that; but craziness sometimes helps in battle, and my troops fought well. Being here is part of the reward from the Imperium for my service."

	"What do you mean, `she understood' and `fit her desires to' you?" she asked. "Sir?" she remembered to add. "Understood what? What desires did she have to `fit' to?" she asked ingenuously.

	"To explain that, I need to know how much you know about some things," he answered. "You know what `sex' is, don't you?"  She nodded shyly.  "And you know what sexual desire is?" She was less certain of that. "Do you know what happens to a male when he wants to have sex with a female?"

	"Yes, Sir," she replied softly, "I've seen the animals; the dogs and the farm animals. I guess it's the same way with men "

	"Yes, pretty much the same way. When a man has a desire to have sex with a woman, that's a sexual desire. It often affects him physically that way, as well. And the desire that she fit to mine was sexual desire of a certain kind," he informed her.

	"What kind, Sir?"

	"Let me tell you about something that may seem kind of strange to you, Melinda. Now you know that most men can be sexually excited by seeing a pretty woman and thinking about having sex with her, don't you?" Again she nodded her head shyly. "Well some men will get sexually excited by many other things having to do with a woman. Some of them might seem weird. All of these unusual ways of sexual excitement are called "fetishes". Some men have to have their fetish as part of sex in order to be sexually excited, others just like it more with it than without it.

	"Let me give you an example: believe it or not, some men are sexually excited at the thought of a woman wearing high heeled shoes, or red shoes, or both. They can't get fully sexually excited unless she's wearing the right shoes. Other men with a similar fetish might only need to imagine that she's wearing certain shoes to get more excited. Do you understand?" She nodded slowly.  "There are many different fetishes, and some people have more than one. When I was courting my wife, I told her about mine. Even though many women might not have wanted to see me anymore, she not only accepted my predilection, she enthusiastically  joined in. You see, I, too, have a fetish. Actually two of them.

	"One is that I enjoy spanking and punishing a pretty girl. Oh, I can have sex without it, but with it it is much more enjoyable. And my wife not only let me spank her, and whip her, and punish her in various ways, the idea of being punished seemed to excite her, too. But that's not all 

	"You see, my wife really did look a lot like you. She was small, and slender, and looked even younger than she was. And she willingly would `playact', pretending to be much younger than she was. And that helped me, because the other particular desire that I have is to have sex with a very young girl. A girl who is slender, like you " And he traced his hand down her side. "And has slim hips, like yours," he said as he patted her bottom. "And no more than little buds for breasts," he said as he slid his hand from her belly to her chest, tracing a finger over first one nipple, then the other, through her thin shift, making her tremble.

	"But most importantly," he said, as he cupped her chin in his hand and gently raised her head, her eyes meeting his, "The face of an angel like yours." And he kissed her, long and sweet, but not deep.

	"So that's how it is, little one. I love you. I desire you. I want you to be mine forever. I want to punish you and rape you again and again. If I keep you with me, then I will take you to be my wife and do these things to you.

	"But if you don't want to stay with me, then I will arrange for you to go to some good family back in the Imperium. You'll be a slave, but well-treated. Most likely you'll eventually be adopted, or given in marriage to one of the sons of the household. Of course I can't guarantee you won't be spanked somewhere along the way!" he chuckled.

	"So what do you think, little one? What do you want to do?"

	She hung her head for a moment in thought. But it really wasn't hard for her to reach her decision. "I would like to stay with you, Sir, as you desire it," she said softly.

	He picked her up, and held her in a long hug, rocking her back and forth as she clung to him. Then, before anything could happen to get in the way, he coached her through the recitation of the wedding vows. Then he kissed the "bride".

	Melinda assumed he would immediately molest her, but he didn't. With a smile and a little pat on her bottom, he simply sent her to her book stacks, while he went back to work. Some days passed. Still he did not spank her, or rape her, or anything. She began to wonder if it had all been a dream, or just a joke.

	Perhaps she unconsciously decided to test him, perhaps she was simply "in a mood"; at any rate, one day two or three weeks after they were married, she "talked back" to him. It wasn't anything insulting, and it could have been interpreted as just joking, but he grabbed her arm, spun her around to face him, and said, "Young lady, you are out of line! You've been asking for a spanking, and now you're going to get it!"

	With that, he bent her under his arm, threw up her skirt, and proceeded to give her a brisk, businesslike spanking. SMAK, SWACK, SWAP! "Ah! Oh! O-O-O!" she cried out as she wriggled and squirmed from her punishment. Not only did it sting, but it was terribly embarrassing to have a man spanking her bare nine-year-old bottom! With a final SMACK! he straightened her up and tossed her skirt back over her bottom. Then he went back to work. She stood there, somewhat dazed and bewildered from the experience, expecting him at any moment to come back and rape her. When he didn't, she didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed. That night she masturbated vigorously to the thought of him spanking and raping her.

	More days passed, and again he did not spank or rape her. She would have thought that he didn't care for her, except that he was very loving in every other way. He hugged her tight when he first saw her in the mornings (they still slept in separate rooms), he spent time with her, talking, reading to her, teaching her history and interplanetary cosmology, and so forth.

	In fact, it was in the setting of her lessons with him that he punished her next. He had begun to give her little assignments in mathematics for her to do while he was away. One day he was checking one piece of work while she diligently plowed through another. He marked the wrong answers and set it in front of her.

	"You've missed three questions out of twenty. That's good, but not good enough; you'll have to be punished, young lady." With that he slid her chair out from under the desk, her bare thighs gleaming in the light. He swept a ruler off the desk and brought it down sharply across the top of her thighs, WAK!

	"AAAH!" she cried out, and "OOO! A-A-A-AAAH!" again, as he smacked her thighs over and over.  Then he pulled her to her feet and bent her forwards over the desk. He tossed up her skirt, and WAPWAPWAP! went the ruler across her naked bottom as she moaned and yelped. Then he spun her around, bent her backward over the desk, and brought the ruler up once, sharply, between her legs, full upon her unfledged girlcleft: WAPPP! "AAAAAA!" she nearly screamed, and almost came on the spot.

	He tossed the ruler back on the desk, gave her a quick hug, and strode out, saying, "There, young lady, I hope you've learned your lesson!" As he left, she sank back into her chair, rubbing her little bottom, thighs, and cleft as she moaned and sobbed.

	That night, he came to her room. She was asleep. He pulled her covers back and gazed down at her in wonder and delight. Then he took the riding crop he had with him, nudged the hem of her shift up off her thighs, and began whipping her directly on her bare thighs, WAKWAKWAKWAK! "AAAA!" she cried out as she woke up, frantic. He swept her up in his arms, cuddling her closely as her fear left her, and she relaxed against him, feeling safe and protected. Then he sent her to the bathroom.

	When she returned, he had her stand in the middle of the floor. He took a switch he had brought with him and began to systematically whip her legs, starting with the backs of her calves, then the backs of her thighs, then the front of her thighs, and then her bottom. He spent some time switching her on her buttocks, letting the sting of one stroke set in, then delivering another just above or below the previous, admiring the network of thin, faint red lines that faded slowly.

	He stopped abruptly, and pulled her shift all the way off her slender preteen body, now swaying from the intensity of her punishment. She was stunning: long silky hair, slim shoulders and hips only barely beginning to think about flaring, hardly any baby fat left, her nipples just starting to become more prominent, but nothing underneath them except breast buds, her sweet unfledged cleft lips peeping out from between her thighs. The top of her head barely came up to his chest. She was deeply embarrassed to be just nine years old and to be so naked in front of a grown man.

	He stared for a while at her little breasts. She blushed prettily, nearly down to her nipples. Suddenly he seized her breast buds and nipples in his hands and began to knead and work them, pinching and twisting her tender nipples as she gasped and moaned, "SSSS! Ooooo!"

	Then he took the switch and began to whip her directly on her nipples and breast buds. WAK! WAP! "Ooooh! Aaaaah! Oh, please Sir! AAAA!" she cried out. When he finally finished whipping her breasts they were fetchingly reddened, her nipples stiff and tender.

	He took her to the bed and put her in knee-chest position. She squirmed at the realization of how exposed her little-girl cleft and anus were to the man's eyes. Then all thought was driven from her mind, for he had brought a groovestrap whistling down to smack full upon her girlcleft, her perineum, and her anus, WHAPP! "AAAAAAA!" she nearly screamed, and then, "OOOOO! AAAA! A-A-A-A-AAAAH!" as he whipped her again and again on her most intimate parts.

	Finally he could hold back no longer. He probed her anus fiercely with lubricated fingers; one, two, then three at a time, his other hand roughly massaging her clitoris, as she yipped and squirmed. Then he lay over her, seized her slim shoulders, and plunged his rod with one thrust deep into her tender delicate anus. She cried out wildly as she felt her tissues stretch to accommodate his tool. She cried out more, rhythmically, as he methodically raped her anus, reaching around to molest her clitoris so that soon she was bucking and moaning, and crying out and coming, as he too achieved climax, spilling his seed into her rectum as she sobbed and sniffed.

	He carried her into the bathroom and started the shower. He took her into the shower and commenced to clean her well, with a rough terry cloth scrubbing her nipples, clitoris, and anus. When she moaned and struggled briefly, he said sternly, "Hold still, young lady!" and he pushed her front up against the wall, so that her nipples and cleft lips were pressed against the cold tile. He took a flexible clear plastic ruler that was hanging in the shower and smacked her bottom and the backs of her thighs. Then he repeatedly brought it up sharply between her legs as she cried out wildly. He returned to washing her, and this time she held still!

	He took her out of the shower and carefully dried her, again paying close attention to her nipples, her unfledged girlcleft, and her anus, as she moaned and trembled. He carried her tenderly back to the bed and laid her gently upon it. He kissed her all over her face: forehead, glabellas, the tip of her nose, cheeks, and then full on her mouth, long and sweet. Then he kissed her neck and moved down to her chest. He went from one nipple to the other, nibbling and sucking, biting and pulling, as she moaned softly. He slid down to her belly, pausing a moment to playfully blow a zorbert into her jewel of a navel, making her giggle.

	Then suddenly he was there, essentially raping her cleft with his tongue, pressing insistently against her hymen, then seizing her clitoris in a long bite between tongue and teeth that left her nearly paralyzed from the intensity of feeling it provoked in her. The embarrassment of knowing that, at nine years old, a man was kissing her on her most intimate place, was nearly overwhelming. Yet her hips were moving of their own volition, pressing her smooth little sex against his mouth. Her breath came shorter and shorter, her little soft cries becoming louder and more intense.

	It was time. He raised up, pressed the head of his rod against the unfledged lips of her vulva. He insinuated himself within her until he was pressing firmly against her hymen. Then with one hard thrust he raped her of her maidenhead and buried himself to her cervix as she screamed and sobbed. He lay with her, not moving, as her sobs died down to the occasional sniffle.  She could feel his rod throbbing within her. He began to thrust in and out of her, long and slow at first, then faster and harder, raping her thoroughly as she nearly screamed with each thrust. Soon the familiar wave began building between her legs, then spreading to take over her whole body, as she came and came, shouting, "Oh, Sir! Oh, Sir! Oh, Sir! OOOOOH!" Even after she had spent herself, he punished her with repeated hard, long strokes, until finally he deigned to empty his seed at her cervix.

	She lay in his arms for some time afterwards, now fulfilled, knowing that she was safe, and loved, and desired, and punished.

	The End

	All comments welcome.

	cc

All comments deliriously welcomed!

ccccc12345@lavabit.com
