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Subject: {ASSM} A Boy and His Girl (M/g ped(7,11) BDSM romantic "rape" sci-fi)
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Here is a story for repost.

Story codes: M/g ped(7,11) BDSM romantic "rape" sci-fi 

A Boy and His Girl 

Written by cc 


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, 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 cleftlips, 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? 

Part 2 


Story codes: M/g ped(11) "rape" BDSM romantic sci-fi 

A Boy and His Girl 2 

Written by cc 


After he had punished her and raped her soundly, she fell asleep in his 
arms, her head nestled on his chest, his rod still buried in her smarting 
girlcleft. In the middle of the night he woke and gently withdrew. He gazed 
down at her in wonder and bliss. The sight of her slender preteen body and 
the knowledge that she was his to punish and sweetly rape was overwhelming. 
He fetched his riding crop from where it lay after their "wedding night" 
activities. He began to whip her bare thighs (although truth be told, he 
"whipped" her with even less force than he used to use when he punished her 
so long ago on the beach) and when she woke up, startled and distraught, he 
immediately swept her up in his arms, and held her like the little girl she 
was and kissed away her night fright. After a few seconds she was relaxed in 
his arms, and he gently laid her down on her stomach, and resumed her 
punishment. He whipped her bottom with the riding crop, WAP! WAK! and she 
softly moaned, "Oooh! Aaaah!" He shifted his aim and brought the strap-end 
of the crop sharply between her legs, full upon her cleft and anus, WAAP! 
SWAK! "AAAH! O-O-O-OOO!" she cried out. He whipped her and whipped her on 
her unfledged cleft, until finally he could hold back no longer. Tossing the 
crop aside, he seized her slim shoulders and pierced her with his manhood, 
raping her from behind in her tender delicate anus. She cried out wildly as 
he thrust and thrust into her, and then nearly screamed as she came and came 
and came. After she was spent he punished her with a few more thrusts, then 
emptied his seed into her abused anus. Through the rest of the night he 
punished her twice more, each time waking her with a whipping, holding her 
in his arms, then whipping her thoroughly on her breasts, her thighs, and 
her girlcleft, before raping her sweetly and soundly, his hard rod forcing 
her to come again and again. 

The next day they slept until nearly noon, like typical newlyweds. They 
spent the day in leisurely bliss. Fortunately it was not a school day for 
him. They strolled around the garden, swung in the hammock, ate when they 
were hungry. All the time they held hands. Often she sat in his lap. They 
spent a lot of time just looking at each other, and smiling. That night they 
prepared for bed. He approached her, and she thought he was going to punish 
her. He noticed her stiffen as if to prepare herself, and the way she was 
holding her body told him that she was sore between her legs. Yet she seemed 
gamely determined to submit to punishment anyway. He cupped her chin with 
his hand and turned her face up to his. He kissed her gently on her lips. 
Then he asked, "Sweetheart, are you sore down there?" She blushed and 
managed a shy nod. "Then I'll just kiss it and make it better!" he declared, 
and before she knew what was happening he had slipped down between her legs. 
True to his word, he kissed her on her smooth cleft lips, and she gasped 
with surprise and passion. The feel of his warm lips on her still-smarting 
girlcleft was astonishing. She could barely breathe. As he tongued her 
so-recently-whipped preteen clitoris she began to moan, and cry out. In no 
time she was bucking and crying out wildly, as she came and came. Yes, he 
certainly "kissed it and made it feel better"! 

Thus they entered into many days of sweet converse, and nights (and 
daytimes, too!) of sweet punishment and congress. Their love grew warmer and 
warmer. He couldn't wait to get home each day from school, and she spent the 
day doing her homework, then watching the door for his arrival. As soon as 
he entered she would fly to his arms, sometimes jumping up into them, like 
the little girl she still was. Sometimes they would just talk about their 
day, or nothing in particular. Sometimes they would take a walk, or watch a 
movie. And often he would simply strip her unceremoniously, throw her over 
his lap, and begin her punishment with a brisk, businesslike spanking. She 
became more and more reluctant to see him go every day, and more and more 
ecstatic when he came home. She awaited his arrival with sweet anxiety, half 
dreading the inevitable embarrassment and pain of her punishment, but even 
more intensely desiring the inescapable fire it ignited in the core of her 
being. 

One day she was so overcome with the thought of her punishment to come that 
she planned a surprise for him. When he came in the door, she was standing 
in the very spot where she had been that first fateful day she arrived. He 
came through the door and saw her standing there, so sweet, with eyes 
downcast, hands crossed in front of her, ready to push the straps off her 
shoulders. He dropped his books with a THUD, but this time, instead of 
starting like a frightened deer at the sound, and shrinking back in fear at 
his approach, she just smiled a shy smile, and pushed the straps off her 
shoulders. He strode over to her. He considered gathering her up in his arms 
and covering her with kisses, but he sensed that she had something else in 
mind. He picked up a switch from his desk and circled the heartbreakingly 
slender preteen girl slowly, tapping the implement in his palm. She 
shivered, eyes closed, hands at her sides, awaiting her punishment. Suddenly 
the switch flashed out and stroked the backs of her thighs, SWAP! "AAH!" she 
cried. Then her breasts felt the sting, WAK! "OOOO!" she exclaimed, as she 
trembled and writhed. He whipped her and whipped her; thighs, bottom, little 
breasts and nipples, even bending her over to devote strict attention to her 
tender delicate anus. By then she was swaying on her feet, nearly overcome 
with embarrassment at his attentions to the intimacies of her young-girl 
body, and the intensity of her punishment. He brought the switch up sharply 
between her legs, full upon her unfledged vulva, WAAAK! "AAAAAAAAH!" she 
screamed, and came and came, sobbing and gasping, collapsing in his arms. He 
scooped her up and lay her on the bed, still bucking and moaning in the grip 
of her orgasm, and plunged his rod into her reddened girlcleft. "OOOOOH!" 
she cried out again and again as he repeatedly thrust into her punished 
little-girlhood, prolonging her sweet agony until he finally took her over 
the top with hard, quick thrusts that brought fresh tears to her eyes even 
as she bucked wildly in her release. Then he, too, achieved climax, pinning 
her to the bed with each thrust, dumping his hot seed at the mouth of her 
cervix as she burned and moaned. 

In the afterglow, she sat naked on his lap, cheek buried on his chest, as he 
absentmindedly stroked her bottom and nuzzled her silky hair. A thought came 
to him, as he realized how much he missed her each day, and how much she 
seemed to look forward to his return, as amazing as that still seemed to 
him. He tilted her chin up and looked into her trusting eyes and asked her, 
"Would you like to start coming to school with me?" "Yes!" she instantly 
exclaimed, and began bouncing with childish enthusiasm, "Can I, really? Oh, 
please, please, can I?" He grinned and nodded. She jumped up and danced 
naked around the room, then came back to him and flung her pretty little 
arms around his neck and kissed him. 

And so it came about that she went to school with him the very next day. Her 
gallant young master was concerned at the reaction she might have to the 
sight (and sound!) of the other slave girls' punishments, but he needn't 
have worried that day; as they walked down the halls between classes, 
activity ground to a halt. Everyone knew about the young man's little slave 
girl, but no one had seen her. She clung to him, eyes downcast, as all heads 
turned to her when they walked through the halls. She sat on his lap in 
class, head firmly laid back against his chest, although she listened 
attentively to the lectures. When they returned home that day, he ordered 
her to stand in the middle of the room. He made her hold her shift up, and 
without further preamble began to spank her bottom with a heavier hand than 
usual. SMACK! SWAK! "Oh, AAH!" she moaned at the feel of each spank on her 
small round bottom. Then he switched hands and began to spank her little 
unfledged girlcleft with the same heavy hand! WAAP! WAAK! "AAAAA! O-O-O-O!" 
she cried out with each slap onto her tender nakedness. He lubricated his 
free hand and, parting the cheeks of her little bottom, he abruptly pierced 
her bottomflower and penetrated and probed her delicate anus. How she moaned 
and cried out! Soon she was nearing climax, and he quickly picked her up, 
held her back against a wall, her legs dangling, and thrust his erect member 
into her punished girlcleft. She cried out wildly and came and came, as he 
mixed his hot seed with her little-girl juices. When they were both fully 
spent, he carried her gently to the bed and laid her down tenderly for a 
much-deserved nap! 

The next day at school was much more "business-as-usual". The novelty was 
wearing off, and the boy and his girl were no longer such an attraction. 
What this meant, however, was that the girl was now exposed to the sight 
(and sound!) of the other slave-girls' punishments between classes 
throughout the day. The boy was somewhat worried about this; he thought it 
might upset her. In an effort to diminish her distress, he studiously 
ignored the various activities, no matter how blatant. She appeared not to 
notice, either; her head was mainly lowered as she walked with him. But in 
reality she was acutely aware of it all, watching from under her lashes, 
taking everything in. Much of it indeed distressed her, and she was deeply 
sorry for the other girls who had to endure what seemed like much more 
brutal and degrading treatment at their masters' hands than she did at her 
loving Master's. Some of it seemed little different than her own 
punishments. But all of it grabbed her attention, and somehow seemed to 
light a fire within her. 

But the boy seemed not to notice. He wanted deeply to spare his little 
preteen girl any distress. So he subconsciously even avoided any sexual 
contact with her for the next few days. This was the longest time since they 
were "married" that he had not punished and raped her. Even once when she 
had the flu, they only skipped one night. Every day at school, she saw 
slavegirls being punished, and she found herself desiring her master's touch 
more and more. Yet at the same time, he wasn't touching her! Finally, in 
desperation, she decided to take matters into her own hands. The next day, 
when they got back from school, he held the door for her and she slipped 
inside. Before he knew it, she had crossed the room, and stood facing him. 
Before his astonished eyes, she slipped the straps of her slaveshift off her 
slim shoulders, and let it fall to the floor. Then, in a flash of 
brilliance, she remembered something she had been drilled in at the slave 
compound, before she had been given to the young man. She had never had 
opportunity to assume this position, but the time had come. She fell to her 
knees, legs apart, sweet bottom resting on her heels, wrists crossed behind 
her, head bent in submission, but saucily peeping up at him through her 
eyelashes. He stared in astonishment for a moment, then strode over to her, 
cupped her chin with his hand, and covered her face with warm, gentle 
kisses. Then he took a crop from his desk, and brought it down with some 
force upon the tops of her bare thighs, WAP! "AAAH!" she cried out. After 
whipping her thighs for a while, he punished her breasts, bringing the 
riding crop directly across her nipples, SWAP! "OOOOO! AAAAAH!" she moaned 
and cried, swaying on her knees from the intensity of her anxiety, 
embarrasment, and passion. He lifted her to her feet, kissed her soundly, 
then stepped back and swung the crop again and again, directly up between 
her legs, SWAAK! WAAP! "O-O-O-O-O-O! OH! OH! OH! AAAAAA!" Then he swept her 
up in his arms, carried her to the bed, and proceeded to rape her tender 
unfledged girlcleft with long hard thrusts, that brought her quickly to a 
near-screaming orgasm. 

Although the novelty may have worn off at school, soon attention was being 
paid to the young man and his little girlslave for another reason. It became 
apparent that he treated his preteen slave very differently than the other 
masters. For one thing, when they walked through the halls, she walked 
beside him, not a few paces back like the other slavegirls. She had to, for 
he almost always held her hand tenderly, or draped his arm protectively 
about her slim shoulders, or, if his hands were otherwise occupied, she 
clung to his elbow. Another facet of their relationship was obvious: unlike 
the other masters, he never, ever punished or abused his girlslave in 
school, or indeed anywhere else in public that anyone knew of. This was 
highly unusual, and indeed somewhat resented. Multiple invitations, both 
casual and more pointed, were offered him to participate in the frequent 
"group punishments", in which one or more girlslaves were punished by any 
number of masters in a variety of humiliating and sexually sadistic ways. 
Most of the invitations could be brushed off with a cheery, "No thanks!" But 
some were a little more difficult. Like in most schools, there was a group 
of "jocks" who considered themselves above the common crowd. Rowdy and 
sometimes destructive, they cared little for anything except their own 
pleasure. Not all the jocks were like that, but clearly some were. It was 
inevitable that they would pay unwelcome attention to the young man and his 
pretty little preteen girlslave. If they walked past a group of the rowdies, 
they would always call out, pretending to "politely" offer to assist him in 
punishing his girlslave. When rebuffed or ignored, they would shout 
offensively and threaten vague recriminations. 

 

Story2: Things probably would have gotten uglier a lot sooner if not for a 
particular circumstance, and a particular incident. The circumstance was 
that the young man was a champion fencer. Not all the schools had a fencing 
team, but some did, and his was one of them. He was the captain of the team, 
too. This gave the rowdies some pause, and they had not yet worked up enough 
nerve to challenge him physically. They probably would have much sooner, 
however, if not for a related incident. There was a well-known jock at the 
school, nicknamed "Moose", for obvious reasons. He was not really one of the 
rowdies, but occasionally interacted with them, as he did with everybody. He 
was outgoing, simple but not dumb, and fond of goodnatured, if not always 
well-received, practical jokes. He was 19, having been kept back a year some 
time back. One day, while the little girlslave was admiring her master as he 
practiced in the fencing room, Moose strolled in, accompanied by his retinue 
(a few other lesser jocks and their girlslaves) as well as his own slave, a 
stocky yet attractive and vivacious 15-yr-old girl. Moose began bantering 
with the young fencer. He declared that anyone could wave a little stick 
around, and did Carl want him to show him how it ought to be done? 
Resignedly the young man outfitted Moose with a mask and vest, and handed 
him a saber. Then he had to endure Moose's amateurish efforts, wildly waving 
the blade around, no idea what he was doing. Carl tried to avoid making it 
look too easy, but in the end he disarmed the larger boy with a quick twist 
of the wrist. "OW!" Moose shouted, as he wrung his hand, "That stung!" Moose 
insisted on trying again, saying, "Anyone can get lucky!" But the experience 
was quickly repeated. "Show me how you did that!" Moose demanded. Carl 
looked at him for a while. "Moose," he said, "How do you do those 
razzle-dazzle plays on the football field? Could you show me that, right 
now?" "'Course not! You'd have to learn the basics, first, you can't just 
jump in...Oh, I get it! I'd have to learn the basics in swordfighting first, 
wouldn't I?" The younger boy nodded. "OK, can you start teaching me? I 
really want to learn this stuff!" Moose's retinue gaped. They couldn't 
believe their ears. Moose's girlslave, Anna, grinned. She wasn't above 
taking pleasure at her master's comeuppance, especially when he was taking 
it in such good humor. She looked around. Little Tammie had crept into a 
corner on the arrival of Moose et al, and had watched the proceedings 
nervously. She was less anxious now, but still stayed shyly out of the way. 
Anna strode over, sat right down beside her, and introduced herself. The 
older girl skillfully drew the little preteen out of her shell. Soon she had 
learned more than anyone else so far knew about the girl, besides Carl. And 
they had formed the beginning of a lasting friendship. Moose came regularly 
to take lessons from Carl, and the girls sat together talking away every 
time. At the end of their sessions, Moose sometimes unceremoniously bent 
Anna over and gave her a good spanking, accompanied by her passionate moans 
and cries. He goodnaturedly offered to share her charms with Carl, but took 
his polite refusal in stride. He never even came close to asking if he could 
handle the little preteen girlslave. Once Tammie got up the nerve to ask 
Anna if it bothered her to be spanked like that, in public, and she just 
snorted, "No! Why should it? Moose's OK, he's never really mean to me. And 
boy don't we have fun at home!" It was soon well-known that Moose was 
friendly with Carl, and this delayed even more the full force of the rowdies 
attentions. 

One more incident occurred that made it indelibly clear that the young 
master wasn't about to let anyone else handle his girlslave. It was common 
for girlslaves to accompany their masters to their classes, and sometimes to 
interact in the classroom. Occasionally they would answer the professor's 
questions, or take the same tests as their masters. Many of the professors 
were Christians, and saw it as their duty to encourage the girls in this. 
But shortly after the little preteen girlslave began accompanying her master 
to school, the semester changed, and he began a new class with a new 
professor. It soon became clear that he was fond of an old tradition, still 
carried on in some classrooms. To the delight of most of the boys, he would 
deliberately give the most difficult questions to the girlslaves, and then 
encourage their masters and other boys to punish them for getting them 
incorrect. They didn't need much encouraging. Much of the class was taken up 
with young girls being whipped and spanked, and pierced, penetrated, and 
probed unmercifully as they moaned and cried out. He clearly enjoyed the 
sights and sounds, and even occasionally contributed to the action with the 
yardstick he always carried. It wasn't long before he focused on the little 
preteen. She was clearly the youngest slave there, and the most sweetly 
pretty as well, and he obviously looked forward to seeing her naked and 
tortured, and hearing her moan and cry out. He began to test her. Noting her 
young age, he thought she would quickly be unable to answer his questions, 
so he began with easy subjects. Upon finding herself the object of his 
attention, she nearly flattened herself against her master's chest, but 
answered his questions easily. Nonplused, he moved on to harder subjects. 
Still she kept pace, glad that her master had continued her studies even 
before she started going to school with him. Soon the professor was 
irritated that she was able to answer his questions so easily. He actually 
was nearing the end of his own store of knowledge. He finally asked a 
particularly obscure question that stumped her. Immediately he shouted, 
"Aha! Doesn't know the material! I guess she's going to need to be punished! 
C'mon, boys, lets get started!" He strode towards the girl. Her master 
simply picked her up off his lap as he stood himself, deposited her back on 
the chair, and stood in front of her, arms calmly folded. The professor 
skidded to a halt. "No one is going to touch her except me," said the young 
man. "Wha-what do you mean?" stammered the professor. "Let's put it this 
way," said Carl, "If anyone else in this room can answer that question, I'll 
punish her myself." He slowly looked around the room. "Any takers?" he asked 
almost contemptuously. There were none. With a snort he scornfully gave the 
answer himself. Then he gently lifted his little preteen girlslave off the 
chair and back down onto his lap, sitting up and facing away from him. He 
snagged a ruler off his desk and brought it down once, sharply, across the 
top of her thighs, WAP! "SSS!" she gasped and jumped, then settled back 
against him with an almost dreamy sigh. He replaced the ruler and tenderly 
rubbed the red streak on her thighs. "Get on with the class," he growled. No 
more questions were asked of the little preteen in that class! 

At times during the school day various of the young masters would "hang out" 
together, talking of the things teenage boys usually talk about. At such 
times their girlslaves were wont to do the same. Some just drifted off into 
little groups together, others asked their masters' permission first. The 
little preteen girlslave would never join the others; she was too shy, and 
she recognized without realizing it the casual disdain that teenagers feel 
for preteens. So she drifted around by herself, waiting for her master, not 
really comfortable standing next to him with all the other boys so close, 
and talking about such..."boy" things. She was lonesome. But all this 
changed after she met Moose's girlslave, Anna. Anna took a liking to the 
young girl, and "took her under her wing". When the girlslaves would gather, 
Anna would march right up to the preteen girlslave's master and pertly 
announce, "I'm taking her over there, OK?" and sail off arm-in-arm with the 
girl without waiting for an answer. Moose and Carl would just exchange 
amused, tolerant glances, and smile. 

In with the gaggle of girlslaves, the little preteen was exposed to a new 
dimension. The topics of discussion were the usual ones of teenage girls: 
boys, boys, and boys. Under Anna's forceful leadership, the other girls 
toned down the "raunchiness" of their conversation, but the younger 
girlslave still picked up a number of new concepts of which she was 
previously unaware. At first she was still very shy and retiring, but Anna 
drew her out, and soon she was participating in the conversations freely. 
Thus Anna and the other girls learned even more about the unique 
relationship between the little preteen girlslave and her loving master. 

Indeed, more and more people were paying attention to their special 
relationship. Interestingly enough, the Christian community had made a point 
of trying to enter the teaching profession in numbers, so many of the 
professors were Christian. They strongly approved of the way the young man 
treated his little girlslave, and often found ways of showing it. Also, the 
boy's friends and admirers (and he had a lot of them, despite his quiet 
demeanor) were starting to be influenced by his example. Some even 
converted. And finally, the influence of the slavegirls themselves began to 
be felt. Most of them longed for a more romantic relationship, like that of 
the little preteen and her master. And most of the young masters actually 
were happy to oblige. They had treated their slaves how they had seen slaves 
treated before. Now that they had seen the alternative, there was a general 
move in that direction. Soon, most of the masters were walking hand-in-hand 
with their slaves, or putting their arms around them. There was more gentle 
kissing, and less public probing. And the boys were pleased to find that, as 
they treated their slaves more tenderly and less brutally, the response 
was...gratifying in the extreme! It seemed that their girlslaves couldn't 
wait to get home to be stripped, spanked, whipped, and raped. 

One day the young master was a bit more tired than usual after school. His 
preteen girlslave was not, however. With her little-girl exuberance, she 
nuzzled him, and hugged him, and teased him. But he wasn't responding the 
way he usually did, she noticed. She remembered something that she learned 
about while hanging around with Anna and the other girlslaves. At the time 
she wasn't sure what they meant, and if she did know, she wasn't sure she 
wanted to! But the more she thought about it, the more she thought, "Now's 
the time to try it!" She leaned against his chest, then sort of slid down 
his front, 'til she was on her knees before him. She opened his pants and 
drew out his rod, only half-erect in his fatigue. Before he knew what she 
was doing, she began kissing the head of his manhood, then she started 
sucking on the tip, pulling more and more of the shaft, as much as she 
could, into her mouth. The sight (and sound, and feel!) of a pretty little 
preteen with his rod in her mouth almost immediately drove him to near 
distraction. In no time he was near climax. Then ensued some confusion. She 
wanted to swallow his seed. He barely had enough presence of mind to think 
that she wouldn't want to, and tried to pull out in time. The upshot was 
that his semen ended up splashing across her face. When he came out of his 
dazed state enough to realize what was going on, he looked down to see a 
sight both distressing and fetching: his darling little preteen girlslave, 
her face upturned with a shy smile for him, with his seed dripping off her 
pert nose and draped across her cheeks! She noticed his distress, and 
quickly reassured him that, though she had intended on taking him fully in 
her mouth, a "facial" was nice, too! He was simply too dumbfounded to 
answer. He just gaped after her as she cheerfully trotted to the bathroom to 
clean up. 

School now had become a comfortable and familiar place to the little preteen 
girlslave. Perhaps too comfortable. One day, while watching her young master 
practice his fencing, she realized that they were all alone, and that hardly 
anyone ever bothered them while they were in the fencing room. When he 
stopped to sit down and rest for a minute, she sat on his lap, and began to 
bounce up and down, blow in his ear, and generally behave in an adorably 
annoying way. Soon he could stand it no longer, and he unceremoniously 
turned her over his knee and gave her a brisk businesslike spanking. WAP! 
WAK! "OOH! AAAH!" she cried with each swat. Then he sat her up facing away 
from him and proceeded to spank her directly on her little unfledged 
girlcleft! SWAP! SWAK! "AAAAA! O-O-O-O!" she nearly screamed. He probed her 
abused cleft and, finding her wet, he lubricated his finger with her 
little-girl juice and then probed her in both apertures at once, wrenching 
moan after tortured moan from her, until finally she came, yipping and 
crying out, as he pinched and twisted her little nipples. From then on, they 
regularly used the fencing room for some private punishment. 

All went well until one particular day. The young master was right in the 
middle of whipping his little preteen slave directly on her unfledged 
girlcleft. WAP! WAK! "AAAAA! OOOOOH!" she moaned and cried out. Unbeknownst 
to the lovebirds, Anna had wandered by on some errand for Moose. She peeked 
in the door and saw the action! She stared, enchanted for a moment, and then 
quietly shut the door, and proceeded on to Moose, her thoughts filled with 
anticipation of the punishment she hoped to get at his hands that night. It 
was a good thing she passed by! The pretty little preteen was nearly ready 
to climax when the door suddenly opened, and in strode the rowdies! There 
were four of them. They had been bored, and finally worked up enough nerve 
to beard the young man in his den, as it were. They were surprised and 
maliciously delighted with what they found! They whistled and hooted at the 
sight of the young girl hastily pulling down her skirt over her bottom and 
girlcleft and shrinking back in panic. They gathered round the young man 
with faux joviality, acting as if it was a given that they would participate 
in the little girl's punishment. As she shrank into a corner, they ordered 
their girlslaves to guard her. Things would have gone ill, except... The 
door flung open, and in swaggered Moose and Anna! She had noticed the 
rowdies going by and, fearing mischief, had followed them until she saw them 
go in the fencing room. Then she ran for Moose! Moose sent Anna over to the 
little girl with a quick swat on her bottom. Anna roughly shouldered her way 
past the other girlslaves, saying, "Excuse me, oh, I'm terribly sorry, did I 
step on your foot? So sorry!" She quickly gathered the grateful young girl 
up and took her over to a bench, sat down with her, and said, "Don't worry, 
sweetheart, just watch our boys take care of these jerks!" And they soon 
did. Moose grabbed two swords off the wall, tossed one to Carl, and they 
both advanced on the young toughs. The rowdies shrank back, and were quickly 
chased out of the room, pursued by the flat of the swords on their 
backsides! Their girlslaves followed after with the same treatment. Carl 
flung down his sword and raced over to his little girlslave and caught her 
up in his arms. She clung to him, shivering now with release of tension. 
"Shhh, Shhh, it's all right now," he said. Moose put his arm around Anna and 
said, "Ya done good, kid!" She looked up at him and grinned. 

One day the little girlslave was feeling out-of-sorts. She didn't really 
know why. Her master asked her to do something for him, a simple request, 
perhaps to fetch some item off his desk. She just snapped at him, "Why don't 
you do it yourself?!" Then she gasped in horror at what she had done. He was 
astonished, too. Before he could even say anything, or look sternly or 
sorrowfully at her, she rushed over to him, crying, "Oh, I'm so sorry, I'm 
so sorry! Please, please, won't you forgive me? I don't know what I was 
thinking!" She was sobbing so piteously that all traces of irritation with 
her vanished, and he swept her up in his arms lovingly. But she kept crying 
for a while. Soon she pulled back a bit and looked him in the eye. "I should 
be punished for that, shouldn't I?" "If you like," he replied, grinning. 
"No, I mean REALLY punished. Not just for fun. Don't you think I should be?" 
He thought for a while, then slowly nodded. He put her down, then kissed her 
forehead tenderly. Then he ordered her to lie down on the bed. He had never 
tied her up before, but he decided to do it this time. He stretched her out 
face down on the bed, a thick bolster under her hips to elevate her bottom, 
her wrists and ankles tied gently but securely to the four corners of the 
bed. He told her sternly that she had been disrespectful, and she needed to 
be punished. She just said, "Yes, Sir," meekly. Without further ado he 
began. He started with a firm spanking, about as hard as the hardest 
spanking he had ever given her. WAP! SWAP! She moaned with each spank, 
"Oooo! Aaaah!" Then he spanked her even harder, and harder! Soon she was 
crying out and even struggling a little bit. Once he had judged that her 
bottom was red enough (and his hand stinging enough!) he reached for the 
ruler. He spanked her with the ruler first on one cheek, then the other. 
Then he reached into the box and brought out a new implement, a tawse. When 
he brought the leather straps down across her bottom, she couldn't believe 
how it stung. SWAPPP! "AAAA!" she cried out again and again as he repeatedly 
whipped her with the ancient tool. Then he untied her and retied her on her 
back. He took the crop and brought it down sharply onto her nipples, not 
playfully this time, but judging her punishment by her cries and the redness 
of her little-girl breasts. SWAK! SWAP! "OOOO! AH!AH!AH!" she nearly 
screamed with each stroke. He turned her over again, and tied her up with 
her bottom up in the air. He took a groove strap out of the box and 
commenced to whip her directly on her little rosebud, the lips of her vulva, 
and her clitoris. By now she was sobbing, and wailing, and begging him to 
stop, that she'd be good, she'd never "sass" him again. As if in answer he 
simply mounted her from behind and, disdaining her girlcleft, raped her 
unmercifully in her just-punished anus, each thrust causing her to jerk and 
spasm. He did not let her come. He did not even deign to spill his seed 
inside her. Instead he pulled out and poured it onto her buttocks. Then he 
left her tied there, sobbing and weeping. After a while he came back, untied 
her, and held her, still sobbing, on his lap. He kissed her and kissed her. 
Then he whispered in her ear, "I forgive you." She flung her arms around his 
neck and clung to him for a long time as her sobs died away. And she never 
"sassed" him again, either! 

 

Story3: Some time later, shortly after he had just turned 18, the young 
man's father unexpectedly passed away. Truth to tell, the boy was not 
terribly upset. His father had been distant, and the young man held him 
responsible for the way he had tricked Carl into sexually abusing Tammie so 
long ago when she was only seven, even though it had turned out all right 
("in the end", so to speak!). This left the young man suddenly the owner of 
a substantial architectural business (drafting talent ran in the family). It 
also gave him new financial resources. Shortly after the realization had set 
in that he was now "master of his own fate", the young man became aware that 
his little preteen girlslave was more somber than usual. He asked her if 
anything was wrong. The little girl just sighed and said she missed her 
father and was worried about him. He suddenly realized that now he had the 
resources to do something about it. He told her that they would begin 
looking for him right away. She jumped into his arms and flung her little 
arms around his neck, hugging him like a little girl with her father. After 
a while she began to nuzzle into his neck. He kissed her forehead, then her 
nose, then full on her little mouth. He put her down standing, then ran his 
hand almost casually up and down her front, feeling her little nipples 
through her thin shift, then pressing firmly onto her little girlcleft. Her 
breath came short and her knees grew weak. He decided to try something new. 
He got out a piece of equipment from the box he'd never used before. There 
were two stands, and a length of wire about like piano string that connected 
them. The wire was electrified, with switches that were positioned such 
that, if a slavegirl's heels were pressed firmly to the floor, the 
electricity would turn off. Otherwise it would flow through the wire. He 
picked the little preteen up and placed her straddling the wire. Then he 
adjusted the tension such that it pressed firmly against her little 
clitoris, cleft, and anus. She involuntarily lifted her heels off the floor 
to relieve the sensation of the wire pressing severely onto her nakedness. 
But this of course released the switch, so that the electricity flowed 
through her clitoris, anus, and cleft! (ZZZZZ!) "AAAAH! O-O-O-OOOOO!" she 
cried out. So she put her heels back down again, only to be punished by the 
wire pressing so firmly into her. Up and down she went, moaning and crying 
out, her breasts and buttocks jiggling prettily. Every now and then he would 
take the crop and whip her thighs, breasts, or buttocks. When he finally 
felt she was ready, he whisked her off the wire and held her up in the air, 
her back against the wall. He brought her down forcefully onto his rod, 
piercing and penetrating her little abused girlcleft, bringing her to a 
near-screaming orgasm with a few hard thrusts. Then he unexpectedly pulled 
out of her, spun her around, and wrapped his arms around her from behind, 
holding her thighs flexed up against her belly. Then he brought her 
little-girl rosebud into contact with his manhood. He let her just feel him 
touching her there for a moment, as she strained backwards towards him, 
desperate to continue her punishment-rape. Finally he deigned to enter her 
again, burying his hard rod nearly to the hilt with each thrust, bringing 
sob after sob to her lips, until she cried out and came again, just as he 
climaxed, pouring his hot seed into her bottom-flower. When she quit moaning 
and sobbing, he carried her gently to the shower. They needed it! 

The next day they began the search. He hired detectives to trace her father. 
They picked up the trail, but soon found that he had moved out of his old 
home just recently. Apparently his money had nearly run out, since he had 
lost his job through the machinations of the young man's father. They found 
out that he had moved to the very city that the young man's home was in, but 
there they lost him. In the meantime, the young man was preparing what he 
would say and do if and when they ever did find her father. He wanted to be 
able to explain the situation to him, somehow, and try to make up for what 
his father had done to him. In reality, her father was tracking them, 
instead! He had tried to work for a while, in hopes that he could build up 
the resources to do something about his daughter's plight, but when that 
became impossible, he set his plans in motion before all his resources were 
exhausted. He wanted to sneak into the house, armed, locate his daughter, 
and spirit her away. He knew it would be difficult, but he didn't realize 
the level of security at the house the young man had inherited from his 
father. He was caught before he even got through the door. He made such a 
ruckus about being the girl's father that the guards decided to inform the 
young master before turning him over to the authorities. 

"Excuse me, sir," a guard said as he poked his head into the young man's 
study. "There's been an attempted break-in." "Great Scott!" exclaimed the 
boy, "Did you catch him?" "Yes, we have him right here. We weren't sure, but 
we thought you might want to talk to him first." "Why on earth would I want 
to do that?" the boy inquired. "He says he's the little girl's father," the 
guard replied apologetically. "What? Bring him right in!" the lad replied. 
They ushered him into the office, and showed the boy the pistol they had 
taken from him. He took it thoughtfully and placed it on his desk. "Sit 
down, please," he asked the older man. "Do you want us to stay here?" the 
guard asked. "No, we'll be all right," the young man said. He hardly knew 
what to say to him. Actually, he had nearly everything he wanted to say 
written out, along with some other things, in a packet he had planned to 
give her father, anyway. So he just handed it to him and said, "Please, just 
read this first." In the packet was a letter explaining everything that had 
happened: how Carl's father had tricked him into abusing the professor's 
daughter when she was only seven; how the young man regretted that, and was 
distraught at first that she was given to him as a slave. How he had no 
sexual contact with her until she asked him to. That he adored the 
professor's daughter and longed to be with her. That they were married. The 
packet also contained papers detailing the reinstatement of the professor's 
teaching position, with full tenure. The repurchase of his house. Money to 
begin life again. When the professor finished reading, he was in a daze. The 
boy explained further: although he greatly desired the girl's company, he 
thought that she should go home with her father, at least for a while, until 
the professor and his daughter had a chance to talk things over. Having said 
all this, the boy handed the gun back to the professor, stood back, and 
waited. At first a spasm of anger passed over his face. He halfway raised 
the gun. Then he let it fall to his side, shaking his head. He put the gun 
down gently on the desk, and said, "I'd like to see my daughter now, 
please." The boy rang for someone to fetch the pretty preteen. She came in 
the room , saw her father, and screamed, "Daddy!" and leaped into his arms. 
The boy slipped out of the room. 

She put up quite a fuss at first, but eventually it was agreed: she was to 
go and stay with her father for a month. After that, she could come back to 
the boy if she wanted to. They parted tearfully. The girl felt so torn. It 
was predictable, of course. The professor thought more and more about what 
the boy had written, and said, and done; his obvious gallantry, sense of 
duty, and gentility. His daughter could barely stop talking about the young 
man, and how good he was to her, and how much she loved him, and was happy 
with him. She invited her father to come and stay with them. Possibly what 
clinched it was how well she was doing in her studies under the young man's 
tutelage. In the end, it only took two days before the professor arrived at 
the young man's house, his daughter in tow. His clothes and other items were 
brought over the next day. 

He was given a suite of rooms (on the other side of the house, of course. 
Sound carries!). He tried to stay out of their way, but they sought him out, 
the girl to hang on his arm and just spend time with him, the boy often to 
ask his advice in dealing with business matters. It was a little hard at 
first for him to get used to the idea that his daughter, while still a 
preteen, was wearing a slave shift, and very likely being stripped, spanked, 
whipped, and raped on a nightly basis. But he did. And now, if he hears a 
spank, or the "snap" of a whip, followed by his little preteen daughter's 
cry of anguish and delight, he just smiles. And then there's that pretty 
20-year-old who used to be the boy's father's slavegirl, as well as a few 
others, all left quite bereft since his death. Perhaps he really should take 
the boy up on his offer to have any one of them he wants. 

The End 

All comments welcome. 

email: 

pics51@quickhosts.com 


This story is a work of fiction.  Names, characters, places, and incidents 
either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.  
Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is 
entirely coincidental.
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