Sara and Me
(M/g spank 'incest' reluc)

Written by cc


	SMACKK! My hard hand spanked my little girl directly on her cleft, and she cried out, "AAAH!" My other hand 

insinuated between the cheeks of her bottom and pierced, penetrated, and probed her anus, as I continued to punish her 

tender sex. She moaned, and writhed, clearly nearing climax. Noticing this, I pushed her back onto the bed, and, 

positioning my rod at her unfledged cleft lips, I thrust deeply into her virgin girlhood. She nearly screamed, crying out, 

"Oh, Daddy, you're raping me! You're taking my maidenhead! Oh, DADDY! AAAAAH!" In a few strokes she was coming, her little 

hips pushing up almost against her will to better receive the punishment- rape. Even after she was spent I continued to 

rape her abused cleft for a few more minutes as she trembled and whimpered, until I finally deigned to empty myself at her 

cervix. Then I collapsed over her, covering her little body with mine.

	After a few minutes she pushed me halfway off and sat up, saying, "Wow, that was something! But we're gonna have to 

be more careful, Hon; we're gonna wake up the baby!" I just grinned at my wife. I knew her too well by now; quiet wasn't on 

the agenda when we played "Daddy's little girl gets punished"! 

	Our relationship was so fine; little was I to know that it would end so prematurely and sadly, yet even so have 

such a wonderful silver lining... 

	We actually had no children ourselves; the "baby" was her 5-year-old niece, her sister's child. The sister birthed 

her out-of-wedlock, the father nowhere to be found, and then fairly promptly died a drug- associated death to no one's 

surprise, leaving the baby with my wife-to-be. I'm sure much of what attracted her to me was my willingness to take on an 

"instant family" and be a father to her little niece. Nearly everyone we met, at church or store or wherever, assumed she 

was my own child. 

	Meanwhile my wife and I developed our game of "Daddy and daughter", cranking our sex life into overdrive! At the 

same time she seemed to have no problem with me in the role of "Daddy" for her little niece. She encouraged me to take part 

in her care, including bathing and discipline. Little Sara got a paddling pretty frequently, being a normal, active child. 

Whenever I was home my wife expected me to "take a hand", literally! If she could tell how hard it made me, having pretty 

Sara over my knee, my hand reddening her little bottom, or washing and drying her sweet little body, she never let on. Of 

course she never even came close to encouraging any action beyond that, nor was I about to try anything, since we didn't 

live in a country that allowed either polygamy or underage marriage. 

	But all this changed quite suddenly when my wife died in a car wreck, just miles from our house. I was home with 

Sara at the time. I won't go into the details of the grief, the questions from Sara, the recovery period. They don't bear 

remembering. 

	I wondered if there would be any problems about Sara staying with me, but I said nothing to anyone else, and no one 

said anything to me. She had no other relatives closer than a second cousin, as far as I knew, and no one else had taken an 

interest in her. She looked on me as her daddy, anyway. 

	By the time I started taking an interest in life again, she was around 7, and cute as a button. I became aware of a 

few minor but troublesome behavior patterns that had set in. Nothing really serious, but it was time to reestablish 

discipline. I had been remiss, wallowing in my grief. I had to put a stop to it, so I "took her in hand". 

	"Sara!" I called her to me one evening after a day of occasional minor mischief. She came, but in a dilatory 

fashion that was not appropriate obedience at all, at all! I grabbed her arm as she came in range and pulled her right down 

over my lap. I tossed up her dress and pulled her panties down to her knees. "Young lady," I lectured, "you've been out of 

line for a while, and it's high time I put a stop to it. This is just the beginning!" 

	With that I commenced to give her a brisk, business-like spanking, bringing cries to her lips and tears to her eyes 

before I was done. After it was over I rubbed her bottom for a while, soothingly, then gave her a big hug, enjoying the 

feel of her clinging to me, staining my shirt with her tears, but clearly accepting, even forgiving me for punishing her. 

It seemed to improve her behavior for a while, too, not that there was that much to improve on to begin with. She really 

was a good little girl; she just got carried away sometimes. 

	As time went on I continued to punish her frequently. Soon it was nearly every day. I varied it a bit; a spanking 

here, a switching on her thighs there, occasionally my belt on her thighs and bottom. I really didn't punish her hard, 

never leaving more than a faint red mark that faded slowly. Sometimes I almost suspected that she purposefully misbehaved 

in some way, so as to earn herself a spanking. And I always finished up by rubbing wherever I punished her. Naturally I was 

stiff as a board by the time I let her up! 

	At ten, she had developed into a stunning preteen. Long, silky hair, the face of an angel, and a body that was 

heartbreakingly slender, barely flaring at the hips, nipples only slightly larger than they were at seven. She was 

completely adorable. Sweet and smart, fun to be around, she really gave me no trouble at all with her schoolwork (she was 

homeschooled), going to church, or cleaning up her room. 

	I still managed to find some excuse or other to punish her almost daily. It was around that time that her 

punishments began to...migrate. I found myself using the belt on her more and more, purposefully angling it so that the end 

snapped against her anus or girlcleft. Like I said, I never whipped her hard, but her response to her punishment began to 

be very stimulating to me. She would tremble, and moan, and seem to push her little bottom out to receive my hand, or tilt 

her slender pelvis forward for the belt on her vulva. 

	After a while I made no pretense of punishing her sexually "by accident". After a typical bare bottom spanking, I 

would often order her to strip naked, and stand up with her legs apart, giving her a half-playful smack on her bottom to 

motivate her. Then I would punish her with various implements: hand, belt, a wooden spoon on her little cleft; occasionally 

even a riding crop across her nipples. When I rubbed her afterwards, my hands meandered from her bottom and thighs to her 

chest, pinching and tweaking her nipples and breast buds, then pressing insistently against her bottomflower and girlcleft, 

as her breath came ragged and short. I don't think she ever actually came during her "punishments", but she seemed close to 

it. 

	You wouldn't believe the temptation I was under to simply rape her and be done with it, or at least use her mouth 

to relieve myself. But, as bad as my actions may have been, I didn't want to go over that line. I could always fool myself 

into thinking that what I did to her could somehow be legitimate punishment, even though at some level I knew it wasn't. 

Still, something had to give. 

	I guess subconsciously I was testing the waters. At any rate, I began to mention to Sara that I was thinking about 

getting married again. Of course I had no one in particular in mind, and if she'd thought about it, she should have known 

that nothing like that would happen anytime soon. I hadn't even had a date since her aunt had died. 

	I suppose it was predictable. "Daddy," she asked one night, right after I had given her a quick spanking before 

bed, "Why do you want to get married again?" 

	"Well, punkin, it's kinda hard to explain. But a man sort of needs a wife around, to help him and keep him company 

and stuff," I replied. 

	"But you've got me around!" she proclaimed, indignantly, "And I can help out a lot! Don't you like having me 

around?" she added, mournfully (and manipulatively!). 

	"A brat like you? Why should I like that?" I responded, winking, and grabbed her and tickled her until she lay 

sprawling on the floor, giggling. I flopped down beside her and we lay there together for a while, with an occasional 

tickle and giggle thrown in. 

	Suddenly she popped up on her elbows, looked at me seriously, and said, "I'll be your wife! You don't need anybody 

else!" 

	Well! With an opening like that, how could I resist?! But I wanted her to think about this carefully, to be aware 

of the significance. "Honeypie," I said solemnly, "Do you really know what that means?" 

	She looked at the floor for a moment. Then she looked up at me shyly and said softly, "It means you get to rape me, 

doesn't it?" 

	The question hung in the air between us, revolving lazily. My head buzzed. I could barely breathe. Vertigo, and a 

sudden jolt of...joy pierced me, so sharp it almost was nauseating. "Yes, it does," I finally managed to croak. 

	I think she might have mistaken my pallor, sweat, and unsteadiness as displeasure. She got up slowly and said, "I 

know, but you don't want me cuz I'm so little and not sexy like big girls." She turned and trudged off towards her room. 

	I've never been a sprinter, but I think I could have beaten any Olympic champion from the floor to her side that 

day! I took her in my arms and held her for a while. Then I looked into her sweet, trusting, sad eyes, and poured out my 

heart to her. How I loved her, and wanted to cherish her and be with her always. How I desired her sweet little body. How 

there was no one else in the world I would rather marry than her. The look on her face was worth more than all the jewels 

in the world, as she flung herself into my arms in a fierce embrace while I buried my face in her hair. 

	She pulled back for a moment and looked up at me. "You'll still punish me when we're married, won't you?" she 

asked, astonishing me again. I pushed the haze out of my head long enough to acknowledge that, yes indeed, I would punish 

her after we were married! Then ensued more hugging, and tender little kisses. 

	After a while I whispered in her ear, "You know you've been a naughty girl, and you need to be punished, don't 

you?" I nearly held my breath, waiting. 

	After a long beat, she just said, "Yes, Sir." 

	I stood her up, bent her under my arm, and gave her a brisk, business-like spanking, WAPWAPWAPWAPWAP! She whimpered 

and yelped, "AAAH! OHOHOH! AAA!" as she danced from foot to foot. 

	I stood her back up, and unceremoniously pulled her dress over her head, and her panties down to her ankles, and 

commanded her to kick them off. Now she stood in only her knee socks and loafers, looking like an angel in despair after 

her spanking. I pulled my belt off and ran it through my fingers as she looked on, eyes widening, trembling in 

anticipation. I strolled around her naked form, slapping my doubled-up belt in my palm, admiring her slim hips, flat chest 

with nipples barely breaking the plane, cute little bottom, and most darling of all, her unfledged girlcleft peeping out 

from between her slender thighs. 

	Suddenly I swung the belt onto the backs of her thighs, SWAP! "OH!" she cried out, and then, "AAA! OOOOO! AH-AH-

AH!" as I continued to whip her thighs and bottom. I took the strap-end of the belt and paddled her nipples with it, 

SMAKSMAKSMAK! "AAAAAH! OO-OO-OO-OO!" she cried out wildly. Soon her nipples were erect and fetchingly reddened. I paused 

for a moment to seize her little nipples and breast buds, kneading them and working them as she moaned and writhed.

	I picked her up and carried her lithe form to the bedroom. Laying her on the bed I quickly fastened my mouth to her 

nipples, sucking and nibbling. Moving south I found her jewel of a navel, and blew a flurbish into it, making her squeal 

and giggle. Then my mouth slid down, down, to her maidenhood. I probed her with my tongue, pressing firmly against her 

hymen, making her cry out. Then I caught her clitoris in a long, excruciating bite between tongue and teeth. 

	She began to come. I quickly stood up and brought the belt down across her swollen, glistening cleft lips. She 

nearly screamed as she bucked up and down in the throes of her little preteen orgasm. As she shuddered out the last of it I 

swept her up in my arms and held her close. She clung fiercely to me, her tears staining my collar as her tremors slowly 

subsided. After a while I lay her gently down on the bed, kissed her forehead, and whispered, "Good night, little love." 

She was asleep before I pulled the covers to her chin.

	The next day I swiftly set in motion plans I had been working on for some time, in hopes that she would 

be...receptive. Having researched the marriage laws in various countries, I moved us to ******, and bought a secluded villa 

equipped with adequate security apparatus and well water. I located a justice of the peace who, with well-greased palm, was 

willing to marry us.

	When we got home I enfolded her in my arms for a long time, just reveling in the knowledge that she was completely 

mine. The top of her head came to the middle of my chest. I nuzzled her hair as she buried her face in my shirt. But I 

couldn't bear to wait much longer. I disentangled myself from her arms, and whispered in her ear, "You know you've been a 

naughty girl, don't you?" She nodded, shyly. "And naughty girls have to be punished, don't they?" She just hung her head, 

peeping up at me through her lowered lashes. 

	I bent her under my arm and tossed up her skirt. Her bottom gleamed bare in the light; I had ordered her not to 

wear any panties. SMACK-SMACK-SMACK! I paddled her rapidly, alternating from one cheek to the other. She whimpered and 

moaned, "Oh, Daddy, please! Oh, please, my bottom!" as the redness appeared. 

	I stood her up and stripped her unceremoniously, leaving her naked in front of me. She blushed prettily, down to 

the tips of her little breasts, just barely breaking the plane of her chest; not breasts at all, really, only nipples on 

top of breast buds. I took I had cut previously, and snapped it across the front of her thighs, SWAK! She jumped and cried 

out, "AAA!" and then, "OH! AH! OOOO!" again and again as I switched her repeatedly, on her thighs, front and back, her 

already-punished bottom, and then her nipples. She yipped and yiped at the sting, "AH! Daddy, my little breasts! OOO!" I 

paused every now and then to admire the network of thin red lines left by her punishment, before they faded rapidly.

	I laid her down on a couch, widely spread, and brought the switch down sharply onto her unfledged girlcleft, SWACK! 

"AAAAAAA!" she nearly screamed, and "OOO-OOO-OOOOH!" as the switch whistled through the air to punish her little-girlhood 

again and again. Then I turned her over to knee-chest position, and gave the same treatment to her tender, delicate anus as 

she wailed and sobbed. 

	I cast away the switch, and let my hands roam over her body, as she remained in knee-chest. I found her little 

nipples and toyed with them, tweaking and pulling them, pinching and twisting as she sucked air in through her teeth, then 

softly moaned, "SSSS-oooo!" I lubricated my right hand fingers and pierced her anus, with first one, then two, and finally 

with three fingers, penetrating and probing her, while my other hand seized her clitoris and cleft lips, kneading and 

working them. A steady stream of moans and gasps were torn from her lips. Soon she was bucking, and her cleft lips were 

moistening. I gave her a few firm spanks on her anus and cleft, and she began to come.

	I raised up over her and plunged my lubricated rod into her preteen bottomflower, raping her of the miadenhood of 

her anus. She screamed briefly, then panted hoarsely as I began to work my tool in and out of her, withdrawing almost to 

the tip, then plunging to the hilt as she quivered and spasmed. I continued to molest her clitoris as I raped her, and soon 

she was over the top again. I let go, and poured my seed into her rectum. Then we collapsed on the bed together, panting 

and murmuring. 

	I took her into the shower. She moaned and struggled briefly as I firmly scrubbed her cleft and anus with a terry 

washcloth, so I pressed her nipples and cleft against the cold tile and paddled her sharply on her bottom, thrust three 

soapy fingers into her abused anus and probed her, then quickly withdrew and smacked her on her cleft. She sobbed, "Oh, 

Daddy, please, I'll be good!" She held still for the rest of her scrubbing, and for the vigorous toweling she received, 

firmly massaging her tender nipples, cleftlips, and anus as she trembled and whimpered.

	I covered her cleft with my hand, lifted her up that way, carried her to the bed, and fastened my lips to her 

vulva. As I tongued her already-punished little-girlhood, her cries intensified, from soft little coos at first, to hoarse 

cries as her slender hips began to move almost against her will.

	It was time. I stood up, towering over her petite form, positioned my rod at the opening of her little womb, then 

plunged in, raping her of her maidenhead with one stroke, driving for her cervix, as she screamed and writhed underneath 

me. I lay buried in her for a few minutes, my rod throbbing in her abused vagina, as her distress died down to the 

occasional sob and sniffle. I couldn't believe how tight and sweet her little girlhood was. I began to rape her in earnest, 

long slow strokes that took her breath away, then harder and quicker, grinding my pubic bone against hers, as she cried out 

rhythmically with each thrust, "AAA-AAA-AAA-AAA!"

	Soon the stretching and stimulation of her abused clitoris made itself known. Her cries became more intense and 

wild, her little hips moved of their own accord, and then I was treated to the sight, sound, and feel of a little preteen 

climaxing as I raped her, my hard rod buried deep within her.

	In the afterglow she lay in my arms, content, nearly asleep, a pretty little preteen, mine to love and cherish, and 

to strip, spank, whip, and rape, as long as we both shall live.

	by cc

all comments greedily welcomed!

ccccc12345@lavabit.com
