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Message-ID: <29747asstr$986746202@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "C Carl" <5559k@colormail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} A Boy and His Girl (ped, rom, BDSM, sci-fi)
Date: Sun,  8 Apr 2001 12:10:02 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

Here is a story I would like to repost. It has been slightly
edited from its previous posting.

Headers: ped, rom, BDSM, sci-fi

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 particulars it is 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 has its own idiosyncrasy.
This society was formed by adherents of the ancient "BDSM"
lifestyle. Although not as "hard" as it could be (like the Gorean
planets), nor as "soft", it maintains a robust presence pretty
much throughout all strata of society. Almost all sexual
relations are in the BDSM mode. Indeed most of the women (and the
older girls) are officially some man or other's slave, although
the practice has been hedged about with legal and cultural
restrictions, designed to protect the females from serious harm,
mutilation, or undesired pregnancy. Most slave relations end in
marriage, although the BDSM activity continues, and a wife is
considered pretty much her husband's slave anyway. A master is
expected to cherish his slave, protect her, and see to her needs,
including sexual needs. It is considered the pinnacle of 
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 achieve this with any regularity; most
don'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 last more than a day are frowned upon, and unplanned
pregnancies result in the slave's choice of marriage or freedom,
with or without adoption of the child. The father is responsible
for the child's upkeep in any event, unless adopted out. 

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

All comments welcome; also looking for illustrations (NOT photos!
Drawings only, please!). 

E-mail:
5559k@colormail.com
or
5559k@888.nu

Sign up for your "FREE E-MAIL" @ COLORMAIL
http://www.colormail.com


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