After a bit I slipped off his lap saying, "I'll be right back!" I pelted to my bathroom. Needless to say among other things I brushed my teeth and rinsed my mouth well!

I went back to Carl's room. He was sitting on the side of his bed, his head in his hands. As I sat down next to him he turned to me with a stricken look on his face. "Rache, I'm so so-"

I figured this might happen, and I was ready. I put my little hand to his lips and said, "Hush. Carl, listen to me: you did not hurt me. I'm fine. This was my idea and I wanted to do it and I had fun! And I know you enjoyed it and I'm so glad. And I will never tell anyone about it, ever. It's fine, really. And I love you. OK?" I tried to put my brightest little-girl smile on to reassure him.

"Well...OK, I guess it's...I mean I really shouldn't..." he stammered. But I was a naked little girl, and I had climbed onto his lap and put my arms around him, and I was moving my little bottom up and down the front of his pants. Resistance was futile. I felt his arms go around me and I just relaxed into him.

After a while I slipped off his lap, saying, "Master Carl, I gotta go to the bathroom. After that, are you gonna give me a bath?" He stared at me for a moment, gulped, and just nodded. "OK!" I chirped and trotted to the toilet. When I was done I called out, "OK, Master Carl, I'm ready for my bath!"

He came in. I had started the water and climbed into the tub. Wordlessly he took the washcloth and bar of soap I handed him, lathering the cloth up, washing my little arms as I reached them to him, then my back as I turned away from him. I turned back towards him and stuck my chest out. He took the hint, soaping up my little breastbuds and nipples, rubbing the cloth over them. I closed my eyes, moaned, and murmured, "Oh, Master Carl, it's so 'barrassing, oh Master Carl please!" I peeked at him; he had a little grin on his face, so I guessed he was getting into it again.

He paused for a moment, so I took the opportunity to stand up, proffering a leg to him. He proceeded to soap it up, moving from my foot (it tickled! I giggled, and he chuckled), up my calf to my thigh. He paused, and I pushed the other leg forward. He did the same. Then I said, "Oh, Master Carl, do haveta be scrubbed right on my little girlcleft?!"

He cleared his throat and managed to croak out, "Yes. Yes, you do, little slavegirl, now spread your thighs!" I did, and he reached out with the washcloth to my cleft. Warm and soapy, the terry-cloth just a bit rough, the soap stinging a bit: it felt about like I expected it to. As he scrubbed between my legs I rocked my hips back and forth, threw my head back and moaned for him.

But after a bit the stinging really got to be too much. I backed a way a bit and murmured, "Stop, Carl, please."

He immediately did, a bit of a scared look on his face, saying, "I'm sorry, Rache, are you OK?"

"I'm fine, the soap just stung a bit too much. Really, it's OK, lemme just rinse it off, all right?" He just nodded as I sat back into the bathwater and rinsed. The sting subsided, so I got up on hands and knees, and said, "Oh Master Carl, I know I've been a naughty girl, but do I haveta be spanked on my wet bottom?"

He fielded it in character, saying, "Now you know naughty little slavegirls have to be punished!" and proceeded to smack my buttocks SMACK-SMACK-SMACK-SMACK! as I yelped.

After a bit he slowed down and just caressed me. I sighed appreciatively, then turned my backside towards him, and said, "Oh, Master Carl, do I haveta be scrubbed on my little anus?!"

"Um...yeah...I mean, yes, yes you do!" I wondered how he was going to react. What little I could recall about my teenage self suggested that anal activity wasn't high on the list at that time. Hopefully that would change...

As he tentatively touched the cloth to my anus I pushed back against him a bit, trying to encourage him, rocking my hips up and down, whimpering and crying out softly, "Oh, Master Carl, my anus! O it's so embarrassing to be washed there by a man! Oh, please, Master Carl!" It seemed to work; he scrubbed more firmly, and seemed to 'get into it' more. When he appeared to be slowing down a bit I said, "Oh, Master Carl, do you haveta push your soapy fingers inside my anus and clean me out real good? Oh, please, Master Carl!" I turned and looked intently at him.

He made a bit of a face, but he didn't refuse. He soaped up his right hand and tentatively touched the tip of his index finger to my anus. I pushed a bit back against him. He slipped the end of his finger inside me and I pushed back more, straining a bit so as to open up for him. Soon he had his index finger buried inside my anus. Of course it didn't really bother me; after all, bigger things had come out! But I made a show of 'distress', crying out, "Oh, Master Carl, you're probing me so deep! Oh Master Carl it feels so...strange! Oh please, Master Carl, do you have to probe me with two and three fingers? Oh please, Master Carl!" He took the hint, pushing his long finger inside me as well. Two fingers began to stretch me a bit, and I cried out, "Oooo! Oooo!" Then he put his ring finger in along with the other two. Three fingers really was a bit uncomfortable, but the idea of it was stimulating, I didn't want to discourage him, and even the physical reality of it was becoming a bit...stimulating as well, as my anus stretched to accommodate. "AAA! AAA! O-O-O! Oh, Master Carl, my anus! My anus! Oh you're stretching me so much! Oh Master Carl do I haveta be spanked on my cleft while you're probing my anus?" He didn't reply, he just began to spank my wet vulva, SMAK-SMAK-SMAK! I yelped with each spank, "AH! AH! AH!"

It's hard to now how much of sexual excitement is physical and how much is mental. Certainly the thought of what was going on was some of the most exciting I ever had experienced. Physically it was a bit uncomfortable, but it was stimulating, too, but probably wouldn't have been anywhere near as pleasurable without knowing intimately how much it must have been affecting him. Whichever, it stung some, but it was also fun! I didn't have to make my little hips rock, they were just doing it, and my cries were genuine, "MMM! O-O-O-OH! UNH-UNH-UNH! AAAAH!" I pressed my bottom back against his molesting hand, then pressed my cleft onto his spanking hand, back and forth, until I finally came, throwing my head back, arching, nearly screaming, "AAAAAAA! MASTER CARLI'MCOMINGI'MCOMING!"

As I subsided I leaned against his arms. He held me and caressed me, kissing the top of my head as I trembled. After a bit I stood up, pulled a towel off the rack and handed it to him, saying, "Would you dry me, Master Carl?"

He seemed to have trouble talking, but managed to say, "A-all right, little one, if you want me to." He enfolded me in the towel, part hugging me, part rubbing me all over, finally spending a lot of time drying between my legs.

I moaned, "Ah! Ah! Master Carl it's so rough on my little cleft! Ah!"

Finally he finished, putting the towel aside, and running his hands over my smooth little body, clearly enjoying the feel of my slender form, taking his time, exploring every bit of me: fingering my little breastbuds and nipples as I quivered, tickling my belly button as I giggled, then seizing my faintly reddened cleftlips and clitoris as I closed my eyes and gasped.

I put my little arms around his neck and laid my head on his shoulder, murmuring in his ear, "O Master Carl, I know I've been such a naughty little girl, but do I haveta be whipped? With your belt?"

"You know you do, sweet little one, my naughty little girl! And right now," he replied, clearly getting back into the swing of the play. He picked me up and carried me back to his bed. He put me on it and I turned over on my stomach, putting my bottom into the air in knee-chest position. He pulled his belt off and wrapped it around his fist, letting about six inches dangle. WHAP-WHAP-WHAP! went the belt's end on my buttocks, as I cried out, "AAAH! AAAH! AAAH!" Of course he wasn't doing it very hard, he was so sweet, he was doing such a good job: just hard enough to redden me a bit and to sting, but not too much.

After a bit, without being told, I rolled over on my back and let my knees fall apart. "Oh Master Carl, do I haveta be whipped right on my little cleft?! O please Master Carl!" He took the hint, of course, bringing the strap-end of the belt down directly on my gleaming vulva, SMAK-SMAK-SMAK! I yipped and yelped with each stroke, "AAIII! A-A-A-AH!"

He stopped after about twenty strokes. I was panting and moaning. He kissed my face, brushed the hair off my forehead, and whispered, "Are you OK, Rache?"

I stayed in character, putting my best pout on my face and in my voice, saying, "Master Carl, w-would you...kiss it and make it better?"

"O-of course I'll do that for my sweet little slavegirl!" he answered, a bit shakily, and slid down my body. I opened my legs wide for him and he planted his mouth full upon my little cleft.

It felt so good! Warm and smooth and loving. It took no effort to moan, and cry out, and rock my hips, pushing my cleft and clitoris against his lips and tongue. He explored up and down, trying to find out what 'worked', quickly adjusting as I reacted. It didn't take long until I was coming again, entwining my little hands in his hair as I bucked up and down, yelping.

"O Master Carl, thanks so much for the wonderful punishment-'gasm!" I gasped out as I lay, panting and shaking.

"You're so welcome, little one," he said as he stroked my face and smiled down at me.

After a bit I slipped off the bed and knelt in front of him. "M-may I service you again, Master?" I asked, again with a little pout and what I hoped was a fetching tilt of my head.

He gulped and nodded. I opened his pants again and pulled out his rod, all ready stiffening, despite having emptied himself in my mouth earlier. I sucked and slurped on him as he got rock-hard, making little growly noises.

But I stopped, not bringing him off, climbed back on the bed, pushed my bottom out towards him, looked back at him and said, "Oh Master Carl, do I haveta be raped in my anus? Please Master Carl!"

He just stopped, struck, staring, then said, "Rache, that's...I mean won't it hurt you...?" I could tell his resistance was weak.

I said softly, "Bigger things have come out, hm?" and just pushed my bottom toward him more. He finally moved as if hypnotized, putting the head of his rod against my little rosebud and pushing. I pushed back and strained, making it as easy for him (and for me!) as I could.

He entered me. It was...uncomfortable, I have to admit. Not too painful; probably just as well that he was still a teenager, not full-grown yet! But the thought of it: somehow it was almost as if I was experiencing me as a sixteen-year-old, raping the anus of a little ten-year-old girl, and at the same time feeling it as the ten-year-old. Far out. I cried out loud and a bit long as he thrust into me, "AAAAAH! AAAAAH! OHMASTERCARLYOU'RERAPINGMYANUS! AAAAAAAH!" I think the sensation and experience of it was taking over what shreds of self-control he retained: he began to thrust vigorously, burying his teenage manspike to the hilt in my anus, his balls slapping against my punished cleft, grunting and groaning.

It actually took him a few minutes, since he'd come earlier. But finally he yelled inarticulately as he spent himself deep inside. He collapsed next to me, holding me tight as he shuddered out the last of his climax. I trembled in his arms.

After a bit I moved my bottom away as he slipped out of me. I rolled over and said, "Did this little slavegirl please the Master?" I said as I clung to his arm.

"Oh, yes, you certainly did!" he managed to croak out. I sort of chuckled and laid my head on his arm. He stroked my hair and kissed my head.

Finally I popped up on the bed, and said, "So, did you have fun playing the game with me?"

The end

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A question for my readers: Was this masturbation? Or incest?