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Subject: {ASSM} A Boy and His Girl (D/s m/g ped rom)
X-Original-Subject: story submission
Date: Wed,  6 Sep 2000 08:10:04 -0400
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To ASSTR:
Here is another story for submission. The subject headings might be (D/s m/g 
ped rom).

Title: A Boy and His Girl

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 cases it was 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 
had its own idiosyncrasy.

This society was formed by adherents of the ancient "BDSM" lifestyle. 
Although not as "hard" as it could have been (like the Gorean planets), nor 
as "soft", it maintained a robust presence pretty much throughout all strata 
of society. Almost all sexual relations were in the BDSM mode. Indeed most 
of the women (and the older girls) were officially some man or other's 
slave, although the practice was hedged about with legal and cultural 
restrictions, designed to protect the females from serious harm, mutilation, 
or undesired pregnancy. Most slave relations ended in marriage, although the 
BDSM activity continued, and a wife was considered pretty much her husband's 
slave anyway.

A master was expected to cherish his slave, protect her, and see to her 
needs, including sexual needs. It was considered the pinnacle of mdom 
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 
achieved this with any regularity; most didn'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 lasted more than a day were frowned upon, and 
unplanned pregnancies resulted in the slave's choice of marriage or freedom, 
with or without adoption of the child. The father was responsible for the 
child's upkeep in any event, unless adopted out.

Girls were usually sold into slavery at around 10 - 12 years old, most often 
to a teenage boy known to the girl's family; marriage was typical in such 
cases. The boy then took over the girl's schooling, and often took her to 
school with him, both for her instruction in academics, and for his 
amusement during the day. Boys and girls were often taught by parents or 
governesses until teenage years (for the boys) or slavery (for the girls). 
Boys subsequently went to the academies which were essentially the same as 
Jr High and High Schools. Both boys and girls were typically shielded from 
most BDSM behavior until the age when girls were sold, so as to heighten the 
surprise and embarrassment of the girl's first punishment. Corporal 
punishment of children was 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 enjoyed a relatively 
prominent position, although rarely as rulers. They were sometimes tolerated 
rather than looked up to, but they were 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, all 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 dress 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 cleflips, 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.

The End?
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