SMACK-SMACK-SMACK! "OOO! OOO! OOO!" The little preteen girl cried out as the paddle came down smartly on her bare bottom. Dr. Nostra knew how best to spank a child. Each stroke was sharp, yet somehow gentle at the same time. He never left a mark more intense than a mild redness that faded slowly, yet he spanked soundly, with loud smacks, and wild cries from each transgressor brought for his ministrations.

A steady stream found its way into his office. The bulk were from the local orphanage, close by his office, whose understaffed, underpaid, and somewhat lazy personnel found it easier to simply deposit any of their charges determined to be erring on his doorstep so that the kindly Dr Nostra could administer whatever punishment he deemed fit. His current 'victim' had failed to make her bed to matron's satisfaction. The doctor did not entirely approve of the over-strict rules, but he enjoyed his avocation too much to refuse to oblige when punishment was requested. Plus, he feared that any alternative to his ministrations would be even harder on this child, and the others brought to him for similar infractions. He finished the little girl's discipline with a final swat, then enfolded her in a gentle hug, rocking and soothing her, rubbing her reddened bottom, as she melted into his arms, tears staining his shirt. The little hugs she gave him back bespoke of an accepting, even for giving attitude towards him for the spanking he had meted out to her. He let her little shift fall back over her buttocks and sent her on her way, suitably chastened, back to the institution.

How did this arrangement, so curious, yet so satisfying to all concerned, begin? He had originally arrived in the village, a small, out-of-the-way community in rural ***-ania, with a mission group for medium-term service, opening a clinic for which he was the main, and often the only, staff. The rest of the missionaries left after planting the local church, but he decided to stay. He seemed to fit in, speaking the language fluently, if with a distinct American accent. There was a great need for a competent, caring physician, and he certainly was that. He also, mostly unbeknownst to the villagers, was independently wealthy, and he stocked the clinic at his own expense, such that the quality of medical care in the village was substantially above that found in similar towns in the backwards nation. Antibiotics, vaccines, antihypertensives, insulin, local and general anesthesia, as well as general surgery and obstetrics, all were now available at nearly Western standards, thanks to Dr Nostra.

He was perhaps middle-aged, tall and somewhat thin, with distinguished features and graying hair. There was a hint of tragedy about him, although none in the village, and no one even on the missionary team, knew his background...

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"Oh, 'Daddy', please, please!" his 'little girl' would beg, fetchingly. But to no avail. He brought the paddle down again and again, smacking her bare bottom as she yelped and moaned. She lay across his lap, kicking and wriggling. The paddle was leather, supple, well-worn but well-cared-for, intricately embroidered. It was almost an heirloom, having been used on his bottom, and his mother's bottom before him. He suspected that his father had used it on his wife, Dr Nostra's mother, her father having given it to her husband on their wedding day as a honeymoon gift.

"Hold still, young lady!" he commanded sternly, and swatted her gleaming thighs as she keened. When he judged her buttocks to be sufficiently reddened, he flipped her over on his lap, raising the paddle high.

Her eyes widened, and she cried out, "'DaddyDaddy' pleasepleaseplease, do I haveta be paddled on my cleft! O, 'Daddy', I'm only ten!" but to no avail. He brought the stinging implement to bear sharply upon her mons and vulva, reddening her sweet little sex as she wailed and jerked with each WAK! His free hand roamed over her chest, pinching and twisting her little nipples.

After amusing himself in this fashion for a while, he slid her off his lap, and arranged her in knee-chest position as she trembled, whimpering, "W-whuttya gonna do to me, 'Daddy'?" He stood, towering over her, and ran his hands in to her private parts. She yipped and yiped as he molested her with lubricated fingers, piercing, penetrating, and probing her tender, delicate anus with first one, then two, then finally three fingers. His other hand pinched and twisted her cleft lips and clitoris. She writhed in his grasp as he kneaded and worked her nakedness. Finally he could hold back no longer. He pressed the end of his rampant rod against her lubricated anus, and thrust forcefully, raping her bottomflower, driving to the hilt as she screamed and arched. He pounded into her, reaching around to seize and molest her clitoris. Soon she was crying out hoarsely, bucking her hips in time to his thrusts, finally climaxing violently even as he poured his hot seed into her rectum. He collapsed over her as they lay panting on the bed.

Then he and his wife headed to the bathroom for a much-needed shower!

His life was a dream. He had inherited a fair bit of money. He had a thriving practice in a good community, with theater, recreation, and a good church all nearby, and best of all, a beautiful young wife. And not only was she cute and sexy, but she willingly threw herself into his sexual fantasies, dark as some might have found them to be. She wisely decided not to fight his tendencies, but to try and satisfy them. To do that, she assumed the role of his 'preteen daughter' in their sexplay, receiving sexual punishment at his hands, that, as time went on, excited her more and more, until she yearned each day to feel his paddle smacking her thighs or bottom, his hands firmly seizing her cleft, his hard rod driving deep into her anus, as she screamed and called him 'Daddy', pretending to be his ten-year-old daughter getting raped of the virginity of her anus.

But it all ended so soon, so soon...

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A sudden illness, all his medical abilities of no use, nothing to be done. She was gone in 6 months. He was vacant, bereft, wiped out, for nearly a year. He stumbled through the motions of pursuing his practice, but the heart was gone out of it. He had to get away.

Through his denomination he found the missionary group going to ***ania. He through himself into the task of setting up the clinic, moved by the depictions of the poverty of the area, the desperate need, the adorable children waiting for his aid...

He hung the paddle on the wall of his clinic office. If asked about it, he would only say, "It's for naughty little boys and girls." It wasn't long before the matron of the nearby orphanage asked him if he would consider using it on her charges. She had some vague idea that a physician would know how to punish a child 'scientifically and safely'. He didn't try to disabuse her of this curious notion. And so the string of little boys and girls coming to him for punishment began. Some of the parents of the community, mostly single mothers with no husband to assume the task, followed suit.

Stateside this would have been unheard of. Even in ***-ania it would have been remarked upon, if he had had any staff. But he ran the clinic alone, since the rest of the group had left, enlisting whatever aid he needed for surgeries on an adhoc basis. So there was no nurse or receptionist to wonder about the propriety of the physician paddling the local youngsters.

The children themselves viewed the affair with some ambivalence. Dr Nostra was well-liked by them for his gentleness, friendly manner, warm hands, and welcoming smile. He never talked down to them or ignored them. And as for the punishment, well, he was not brutal; his paddle stung, but no more than that. And he nearly always gave each child he disciplined some treat or other, such as a piece of candy or gum. Often he gave a small toy, such as a truck, doll, or stuffed animal, to the sweeter children, who were the ones he thought had been particularly unjustly condemned to his ministrations.

This went on for some time, providing substantial amusement (along with frustration!) for Dr Nostra. In truth, the activities had so awakened him to life that he was considering moving on, finding another wife, settling down again. Then something happened...

She was just a girl, like all the rest. Perhaps nine, slender, dark-haired, cute; but then, many of the little girls in ***-ania were attractive. She shuffled in, propelled through the door by a push from one of the under-Matrons, who closed the door and left the girl for her punishment, glad to be relieved of her charge for a time so that she could smoke a cigarette in peace.

"Come here, little one," Dr Nostra commanded, but quietly. She sidled up and stood before him, head down, twisting her hands together, turning her toes in as she squirmed a bit. She was new to Dr Nostra. "What's your name?" he inquired.

"K-Katya," she whispered, peeping up at him through her lowered lashes. "Sir!" she hastily remembered to add.

"What did you do, to earn this punishment?"

"I-I didn't do my sums right, Sir," she answered, miserably. Dr Nostra sighed. This was not his idea of an offence deserving of real punishment. As he often did in such cases, he determined to give the little girl only a token paddling, barely reddening her bottom.

"Over my lap, young lady!" he ordered, and tipped her face down onto his knees. He tossed the hem of her shift up and pulled her panties down to her knees. SMACK-SMACK-SMACK! went the ancient paddle as she squirmed and yelped. But, true to his intentions, he wasn't spanking her hard. Twenty smacks later he was done, putting the paddle down, gently rubbing her little bottom to soothe her, as he pulled her up to sit on his lap, cuddling her and comforting her. A few tears leaked out, staining his shirt, but mostly she just melted into his arms. It came to him that this girl was starved for affection, little of it being available at the orphanage. He rocked her back and forth, humming a soft tune in her ears. Finally she turned and startled him with a big hug, then slipped off his lap and ran for the door.

In the weeks that followed he saw her a few more times, but not for punishment. She was sent to him for minor complaints: earache, sore throat, a cough. As usual, no orphanage personnel accompanied her. She sat quietly, eyes downcast, on the exam table, as he puttered about collecting whatever equipment he required for the visit, peeping shyly at him through her eyelashes. He never actually found her to be ill.

He wondered, a bit, what was going on with her. At the end of the last of a string of such visits she finally plucked up enough courage to say, "D-Dr Nostra?"

"Yes, sweetheart, what is it?" he answered.

"...Nuthin'!" she turned shyly away.

"Little one, you can ask me anything; it's OK. Go ahead, Katya, what do you want?" he looked intently but gently into her sweet face.

"Would you...can I...I need a spankin'!" she finally blurted out, then blushed and crouched down, hiding her face in her hands.

Dr Nostra was struck dumb for a moment. He had never had any youngster ASK for a paddling before! He knelt down and asked the little preteen, "Did matron send you over for punishment?" She shook her head. He picked her up and held her on his lap. She pasted herself against his chest, trembling. "Did you do something wrong?" he inquired. She hung her head even lower, but shook it, no. "Do you really want a spanking?" he asked. She didn't look up, but, after a beat, she nodded her head, almost violently. He was in a daze. He could barely believe this was happening, and he didn't want to ask the next question: why. So...

"Then it's a spanking you'll get, young lady!" he announced, and gently but firmly shifted her to lie across his knees. He tossed up the hem of her shift, and stopped in amazement for a moment: she wore no panties! He couldn't help himself; his hand moved of its own accord to caress and squeeze the firm-soft globes of her little bottom, so smooth and tender, kneading and working them, pulling them apart to expose her tiny rosebud. Then, SMACK-SMACK-SMACK! he began her spanking with his bare hand, lovingly but firmly disciplining the young girl. She shivered and yipped. After a while he reached up and snagged the paddle off the wall, and WHAP-WHAP-WHAP! went the tool on her buttocks. "AAA-AAA-AAA!" she cried out at the sting as her rear end was reddened even more.

Finally he judged it to be enough. He put the paddle down and gently rubbed her bottom, now hot from the paddling, as she whimpered and squirmed at his touch, but quieted quickly as he continued to soothe her. As he caressed her, he occasionally let his fingers stray...

After a while she squirmed up, sat on his lap, and threw herself against him in a fierce hug. Then she dashed out the door. He stared after her in a daze.

He went through the next day's work as if in a trance, hardly daring to even remember what had happened, let alone hope for a repetition. But, at the end of the day, there Katya was again, peeking around the door. She slipped in and sidled up to him, still shy, head down, twisting her hands together and fidgeting nervously.

"Hello, Katya," Dr Nostra said, in a pleasant, neutral tone, and waited. He didn't want to presume anything, and he was intensely curious to see what she would do next.

"Would you sp..." her voice trailed off into an inaudible mutter.

"Speak up, Katya, I couldn't hear you," Dr Nostra insisted.

"...spank me again," he finally made out.

"Do you need another paddling?" he asked, almost holding his breath. After a moment's hesitation, she just nodded, and headed for his lap. Over she went, and again he gave her a sound spanking, with bare hand and the paddle. A soothing rub afterwards, a quick hug from the little girl, and again she was out the door. As the days went by she came nearly every day, and somehow, to Dr Nostra's continuing delight, managed to stammer out her desire for a spanking.

This went on for a few weeks. After the next three or four spankings, Dr Nostra began to alter the sequence somewhat. When he soothed her bottom afterwards, he became a little bolder each time, slipping his fingers down, down, until finally he was tracing along her anus and girlcleft after every spanking. Her little sex actually moistened under his ministrations, and, though she never actually came, she seemed close to it at times, eyes half closed, breath short, hips moving rhythmically.

There came a day when, after spanking her bottom for a while, he rolled her over on his lap and raised the paddle. She stared at it, eyes wide, a gasp coming to her lips, then SWAK-SWAK-SWAK! he brought it down three times in quick succession onto her unfledged girlcleft as she jerked and yelped. Then he tossed it aside and gathered her into his arms, stroking and caressing her as her tears stained his shirt and her little sobs died away. Any anxiety he might have had about her reaction to getting a front-spanking was assuaged when she gave him her usual fierce hug, and even skipped a bit as she headed out the door!

After that he moved things along expeditiously. Instead of just putting her over his lap, he began having her stand up, holding her shift to her waist when it was time for her punishment. She looked so gorgeous, a little angel in despair, as she awaited discipline. Heartbreakingly slender, her unfledged girlcleft peeping out from between her gleaming thighs. After reddening her thighs and bottom, he would move to her front and deliver a few smacks onto her mons and immature vulva with the paddle as she writhed and moaned. Soon after that he began to make her strip naked for her spankings, blushing sweetly to the tips of her little breasts, no more than buds that barely broke the plane of her chest. He would put her in knee-chest position on the exam table, marveling at the sight: a pretty little preteen in a doctor's office, her bottom raised in the air, sweet little rosebud clenching in the breeze, her unfledged cleftlips and prominent clitoris below a scrumptious spectacle as she awaited his paddle. He brought it slapping down onto her private parts, cry after cry rising from her lips. As he paddled her, he slipped his free hand around her waist and underneath her, as if to steady her. His fingers probed in to her cleft, seizing her clitoris, pinching and pulling, twisting and pressing, as he continued her discipline. Her cries became more and more impassioned, her jerking under the paddle more pronounced, until, to Dr Nostra's deep satisfaction, she clearly orgasmed, yipping and yelping, pressing her underaged quim against his molesting hand as he spanked her to climax.

When she was finally spent, he swept her into a hug, her little arms wrapped around his neck and her slender legs around his waist, her face buried in his neck, her tears staining his collar, as he rocked her back and forth, crooning to her and rubbing her bottom. After a while he sat down with her, and held her a bit away, looking intently into her eyes. "Little one, what if I were to adopt you? Would you like that?" Her face blossomed with one of her rare smiles, lighting up the room.

"Can I, really? That'd be great!!" she exclaimed.

So it was settled. It took a bit of paperwork, more time, and even more money to the right parties, but eventually she was officially his daughter. From then on she was in the office with him every day, and despite her tender age learned quickly to be his assistant, for she was a bright little girl. But this arrangement afforded many opportunities for her to fall short in some minor way or other, rendering her liable for another session with the paddle. Dr Nostra made sure to find a reason to discipline her nearly every day, and most of those times succeeded in bringing her again to a yipping and yelping orgasm as he spanked her. Often she deliberately disobeyed in some inconsequential way, then whispered in his ear, "I need a spankin', Daddy!"

He continued to advance her punishments, also. He made sure to have an open container of K-Y handy during her discipline sessions, and, having sent her to the bathroom beforehand, he soon was piercing, penetrating, and probing her anus with first one, then two and even three lubricated fingers, while he paddled her clitoris and unfledged cleftlips. She bucked and writhed in his hands, her little rosebud clenching spasmodically around the invading hand. Dr Nostra reveled in the feel of probing a little preteen's anus, so tender and soft, so sweet and virginal, while he spanked her naked private parts and drove her to climax.

Of course all of this stimulation, while delightful in one sense, was enormously frustrating in another for the kindly doctor. Finally he sat her down one day and told her he was thinking of getting married. Her reaction was to screw her cute little face into a typical preteen 'yuck' expression, and to exclaim, "Waddya wanna do that for? Daddy?" she remembered to add.

"Well, a man likes to have a woman around, to help him, and keep him company, and...other things," he added, lamely.

"But I kin help you, and I can keep you company, and...and...anything else a wife kin do. I wanna be your wife, can't I? Please, Daddy?" she begged, cocking her head up at him fetchingly.

He looked at her, seriously. This was going as he had hoped, but he wanted to make sure she knew what she was getting herself into. "Little Katya," he asked, solemnly, "Do you know what that would mean?"

The little preteen ducked her head for a moment, then, peeping up at him through her eyelashes, whispered, "It means you get to rape me, don't it?"

"'Doesn't it'," he corrected, automatically, but his mind was in a daze, so astonished to receive from her this question, which hung between them, revolving lazily. A jolt of...joy, so strong as to be almost nauseating, shot through him.

She mistook his pallor, sweat, and unsteadiness for disapproval. She jumped to her feet, tears springing to her eyes, and cried out, "I know, you don't want me, cuz I'm just little and not sexy like big girls!" and she stumbled off towards her room, weeping.

Dr Nostra had never been a fast runner, but he could have beaten any track star to her side that day! He gathered her in his arms, and held her, rocking her back and forth, and told her how much he loved her, that he desired her more than anyone else, that she was the most beautiful, sweet, and sexy little girl he'd ever known, and similar endearments. She melted against him, content.

The right money to the right people quickly gained them a marriage license and a willing priest, and by that evening they were married. He took her home and swept her up in a hug that went on forever, rocking her back and forth, reveling in the feel of her slender preteen frame in his arms.

After a little while, she relaxed her hold on him, got on her tiptoes, and whispered in his ear, "I need a spankin', Daddy!"

The End

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