A Boy and His Girl (M/g ped romantic reluc spank sci-fi)

   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 essentially 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 the devoutly religious on the planet.  Although
BDSM amongst the devout 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 devout 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 of the devout 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 one
of the devout, 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 one of the devout, 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 one of the devout, 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, and is now one of the
devout, 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 here's 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,
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 sting.  The embarrassment.  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 stung, 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 of the devout.  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?

   All comments deliriously welcomed!
   ccccc12345@lavabit.com