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 A Slavegirl of the Imperium (M/g romantic spank reluc sci-fi)

   Written by cc



   "Don't you mess this up, you little baby!" hissed Sela.

   "I won't!  I won't!" exclaimed little Melinda.  She had tagged along
with the young teen more out of boredom than anything, and now was being
roped into a food-stealing scheme.  The booths of the vendors at the
Festival lay before them.  Tantalizing smells wafted through the air.

   Melinda vaguely knew that she shouldn't be doing this.  She had spent
some time in the company of a missionary who had come out of the Imperium
to minister on this backwater planet.  Under that devoted soul's guidance
she had even converted, but she was, after all, only seven.  Bad company
and temptation are hard to avoid at seven.

   Melinda was a street girl in a provincial town, in a war-torn country,
on a minor planet in a corner of the galaxy that the Imperium had not yet
gotten around to annexing.  She still had some semblance of a family: an
aunt who, when not soused, at least provided the girl with a place to sleep
and a crust of bread to eat, the money for which was earned by turning
tricks for the soldiers that passed through town.  But most of the time the
girl was on the street, getting by as best she could.

   "Now get out there, and make it good!  G'wan!" urged Sela.

   Melinda sidled out in front of the booths.  She proceeded to put on a
most fetching display, dancing around and singing in a sweet little voice
some of the songs she had learned at the mission.  All eyes were on her. 
Sela made her move, sliding around to the side of a fruit and vegetable
stand.  She scooped some produce into the folds of her dress and began to
slip away.

   She tripped over a dog in the street.  Yowling, the dog ran off.  Fruit
and vegetables rolled around.  Sela yelped, and then jumped up, shouting,
"Run Melinda!" and took off.

   Melinda probably could have stayed there safely.  No one knew that she
and Sela were together.  But she ran.  And she and Sela were both caught.
Her older mentor was given over for a whipping.  Because of her tender age,
the little girl was sentenced to a public spanking instead.

   A crowd had gathered for the fun, of which Melinda was merely an
appetizer, and Sela a side dish.  A whore was sentenced to be flogged, and
a murderer was scheduled to be hanged.  Melinda was never sure afterwards
if the older man who spanked her (the town schoolmaster, who doubled as the
executioner) was trying to be kind to her or not.  She was brought to him
in the town building that overlooked the square.  As he prepared her, he
whispered in her ear, "I'm sorry I have to do this.  I'll try not to hurt
you too much.  But it's better if I do it; if I refuse, they'll get someone
else who'll spank you even harder!  Just try to relax and not fight it,
it'll be easier for you." Then he led her out in front of the onlookers.

   He turned her bottom towards the crowd and clipped the hem of her
punishment shift up so that her buttocks were exposed to view.  Catcalls
and jeers came from some of the more cruel.  Then he proceeded to spank her
on her bare bottom with his open hand.  SWAP!  SWAP!  "OOOO!  AH!  AH! 
OOOOH!" she cried piteously as the spanks rained down on her quivering
buttocks.  At the same time, he reached around almost casually with his
other hand, ostensibly to hold her in place to receive her punishment.  He
seized her underdeveloped girlcleft with a firm hand, massaging and
kneading her tender labia and clitoris.  As he spanked her and spanked her
with one hand, he probed her hymen with the other, then concentrated on her
clitoris, pressing and pinching, twisting and pulling.  The crowd could not
see this activity, since her bottom was turned towards them.  Even the girl
was nearly unconscious of it, distraught as she was from her punishment,
swaying in her tormenter's arms, breath short, knees weak, mouth dry, as
she cried out and moaned with each SMACK!  Soon the stimulation of her
girlcleft made itself known.  A strange wave came over her, beginning with
her clitoris, then spreading with each spank to her bottom, and then
throughout her being.  Soon her cries became more and more wild, and she
bucked and jerked in her punisher's arms.  He sensed her nearing climax, so
he suddenly spun her around, turning her little mons towards the onlookers.
They hooted at the sight of the sweet young girl's most intimate area, but
their glee was shortlived; her molester just gave her two quick hard swats
on her vulva, and then hustled her inside the building, leaving the crowd
panting for the next victim.  The little girl was shaking and sobbing as
she spent herself, confused and dizzy, overwhelmed by the intensity of the
sensations in her moist girlcleft, rubbing and rubbing her abused bottom
and labia.

   She fled from the town hall as soon as she could, but stopped as she
heard the SNAP!  and the cries of her "partner in crime" as the whip seized
the older girl's bottom, and the crowd jeered and gawked.  Sela howled and
moaned, suspended by her wrists tied together and hung from a rafter, her
legs parted by a bar fastened to her ankles.  Melinda watched almost in
spite of herself as the young teen received a stern whipping: buttocks,
thighs, breasts, and even a few strokes directly onto her lightly fledged
cleft.  As Sela's tears flowed, Melinda found her hand straying towards her
own cleft

   Over the next few years the little girl would often relive the
experience while lying on her mat at night, sometimes pretending to spank
herself , sometimes picturing herself as Sela, receiving the same strict,
intimate punishment she did, while rubbing her little clitoris, then
spanking her own cleft as she came with little yips and moans.

   As the girl neared nine years old, times were getting worse.  The wars
were going poorly for the nation, though the town had been spared any
actual combat.  But food was scarce.  The girl's aunt had gone from poor
guardian to none.  The girl now lived in any hovel and scrounged for any
scrap of food she could find.

   Rumors were filtering into town that the Imperium had arrived on-planet.
They had allied themselves with the enemy.  Against their advanced weapons,
resistance was futile.  Soldiers, the few that were left, were hurrying
back to their homes.  Soon the enemy soldiers arrived.

   Since there was no resistance, they were not as harsh as they might have
been.  There were no killings.  There was no organized rape or torture. 
Individual soldiers seized individual women or girls for their pleasure,
and there was some looting, but it seemed curiously restrained.  The reason
why was soon apparent.

   Imperial troops arrived shortly afterwards in force, escorting the new
provincial governor, who planned to make the town the capital for the
province.  He had made some effort to ensure that there was little violence
accompanying his assumption of power.  He had given orders to limit the
looting and rape.  Slaves would be taken, as they always were when the
Imperium came to power, but children would not be separated from their
parents, nor wives from their husbands (when this became generally known,
there was a spate of marriages among the teenagers of the town!).  Still,
there were plenty of street children, and poor families willing to sell
their offspring, especially in these hard times.  Naturally, Melinda was
caught in the sweep.

   The new governor wanted there to be as little resentment towards himself
and the Imperium as possible, so as to make governing easier.  He also had
another motive.  Although such as he were in the minority in the Imperium,
he was a devout man, and therefore wished to spare the populace excess
suffering.  He had devoted his life to military service with the Imperium,
and now looked forward to spending the rest of his days keeping the peace
and aiding in the development of this backwater culture.

   He was a quiet, studious man, tall and reserved.  He had lost his wife
in childbirth with their firstborn, who also died, and he buried his grief
in his duties.  Now he prepared to take up a new assignment.  He was ready
for a life of peace.

   As he proceeded to set up his residence, he toured the slave compound in
order to choose some for his household.  As he went down the aisles,
picking 2 or 3 likely candidates, his eyes fell on the little girl.  She
was now at least partially cleaned up, and not wearing filthy rags; she was
wearing the standard child's slave shift, a little short for her perhaps;
it barely covered her bottom and cleft.  She was heartbreakingly slender,
and to his eyes seemed to have the face of an angel in despair.  He did not
linger over her; indeed he outwardly seemed not to notice her.  But as he
came back down the line, he seemed to almost negligently point her out and
order her to be brought along as well, since "some use might be made of her
in the kitchen or the laundry."

   He appeared to forget for a few days that he even had the little
girlslave.  But he eventually called for her to be brought to him, as all
the slaves had been, so that he could formally assign them their place and
give them into the charge of his housekeeper or groundskeeper.  She was
shown into his room.  He was sitting in an easy chair beside the fireplace.
He beckoned her to come over and kneel on the soft rug in front of him.

   "What's your name, little one?" he asked.

   "Melinda, an' it please you, m'Lord" she replied, having been coached by
the slavemaster in how to address him.

   "That's a lovely name," he said.  "You don't have to call me `m'Lord' or
say `an' it please you' while we're alone together, though; just call me
`Sir', all right?"

   "A-all right, Sir" she managed to stammer out, hoping she wasn't going
to get herself into trouble.  She had all ready seen another slave, a young
woman too haughty for her own good, tied down and systematically whipped by
the slavemaster for her insolence.

   He began to gently question her.  Guilelessly she told him everything
she knew about herself.  He was entranced by the sweetness she retained
despite her bitter life.  He found himself desiring to protect her from any
harm.  He wanted to take no chances that she might fall afoul of the
slavemaster or any other supervisor, or even any other slave.

   "Can you read?" he asked her.

   "Oh, yes, Sir!  I love to read!  The missionary taught me how.  But I
hardly ever get to read anything.  Books are so expensive," she sighed.

   "I have many books," he told her, "Would you like to be my librarian?"

   "Wh-what's that?" she queried.

   "That's the person who manages the books, keeps them in order, and finds
one for someone who needs one," he informed her.

   "I think I would love to do that!  May I really?  Sir?" she hastily
added.

   And so he managed to place her directly under his supervision, and out
of the way of his staff and the other slaves.  He found himself often in
the library, showing her some interesting tome or other, helping her figure
out the filing system, and so forth.  He was impressed with her
intelligence, and charmed by her enrapturement at being surrounded by so
many books.  He even found her a help at times in clarifying some thorny
issue of government.

   They talked often.  Soon he even found himself unfolding to her details
of his own life.

   "Sir, are you married?" she asked him.

   "I was," he replied briefly.  "She died."

   "Oh, I'm so sorry, Sir!  I guess you'd rather not talk about it," and
she turned away, pretending to busy herself with a book.

   He sighed.  He looked at her for a while.  Then, with the air of someone
who has decided a difficult issue that has been long in the balance, he
said, "No, it's all right.  I'd like to talk about her, if you're willing
to listen."

   "Of course, Sir!  Please tell me about her!"

   "She was young when we were married.  Older than you, but young.  I'm
not very wise, but I was wise enough to tell her all about myself before we
were married.  She understood, and she was kind and loving enough to fit
her desires to mine.  I was devastated when she died.  I guess I went a
little crazy for a while after that; but craziness sometimes helps in
battle, and my troops fought well.  Being here is part of the reward from
the Imperium for my service."

   "What do you mean, `she understood' and `fit her desires to' you?" she
asked.  "Sir?" she remembered to add.  "Understood what?  What desires did
she have to `fit' to?" she asked ingenuously.

   "To explain that, I need to know how much you know about some things,"
he answered.  "You know what `sex' is, don't you?" She nodded shyly.  "And
you know what sexual desire is?" She was less certain of that.  "Do you
know what happens to a male when he wants to have sex with a female?"

   "Yes, Sir," she replied softly, "I've seen the animals; the dogs and the
farm animals.  I guess it's the same way with men "

   "Yes, pretty much the same way.  When a man has a desire to have sex
with a woman, that's a sexual desire.  It often affects him physically that
way, as well.  And the desire that she fit to mine was sexual desire of a
certain kind," he informed her.

   "What kind, Sir?"

   "Let me tell you about something that may seem kind of strange to you,
Melinda.  Now you know that most men can be sexually excited by seeing a
pretty woman and thinking about having sex with her, don't you?" Again she
nodded her head shyly.  "Well some men will get sexually excited by many
other things having to do with a woman.  Some of them might seem weird. 
All of these unusual ways of sexual excitement are called "fetishes".  Some
men have to have their fetish as part of sex in order to be sexually
excited, others just like it more with it than without it.

   "Let me give you an example: believe it or not, some men are sexually
excited at the thought of a woman wearing high heeled shoes, or red shoes,
or both.  They can't get fully sexually excited unless she's wearing the
right shoes.  Other men with a similar fetish might only need to imagine
that she's wearing certain shoes to get more excited.  Do you understand?"
She nodded slowly.  "There are many different fetishes, and some people
have more than one.  When I was courting my wife, I told her about mine. 
Even though many women might not have wanted to see me anymore, she not
only accepted my predilection, she enthusiastically joined in.  You see, I,
too, have a fetish.  Actually two of them.

   "One is that I enjoy spanking and punishing a pretty girl.  Oh, I can
have sex without it, but with it it is much more enjoyable.  And my wife
not only let me spank her, and whip her, and punish her in various ways,
the idea of being punished seemed to excite her, too.  But that's not all

   "You see, my wife really did look a lot like you.  She was small, and
slender, and looked even younger than she was.  And she willingly would
`playact', pretending to be much younger than she was.  And that helped me,
because the other particular desire that I have is to have sex with a very
young girl.  A girl who is slender, like you " And he traced his hand down
her side.  "And has slim hips, like yours," he said as he patted her
bottom. "And no more than little buds for breasts," he said as he slid his
hand from her belly to her chest, tracing a finger over first one nipple,
then the other, through her thin shift, making her tremble.

   "But most importantly," he said, as he cupped her chin in his hand and
gently raised her head, her eyes meeting his, "The face of an angel like
yours." And he kissed her, long and sweet, but not deep.

   "So that's how it is, little one.  I love you.  I desire you.  I want
you to be mine forever.  I want to punish you and rape you again and again.
If I keep you with me, then I will take you to be my wife and do these
things to you.

   "But if you don't want to stay with me, then I will arrange for you to
go to some good family back in the Imperium.  You'll be a slave, but
well-treated.  Most likely you'll eventually be adopted, or given in
marriage to one of the sons of the household.  Of course I can't guarantee
you won't be spanked somewhere along the way!" he chuckled.

   "So what do you think, little one?  What do you want to do?"

   She hung her head for a moment in thought.  But it really wasn't hard
for her to reach her decision.  "I would like to stay with you, Sir, as you
desire it," she said softly.

   He picked her up, and held her in a long hug, rocking her back and forth
as she clung to him.  Then, before anything could happen to get in the way,
he coached her through the recitation of the wedding vows.  Then he kissed
the "bride".

   Melinda assumed he would immediately molest her, but he didn't.  With a
smile and a little pat on her bottom, he simply sent her to her book
stacks, while he went back to work.  Some days passed.  Still he did not
spank her, or rape her, or anything.  She began to wonder if it had all
been a dream, or just a joke.

   Perhaps she unconsciously decided to test him, perhaps she was simply
"in a mood"; at any rate, one day two or three weeks after they were
married, she "talked back" to him.  It wasn't anything insulting, and it
could have been interpreted as just joking, but he grabbed her arm, spun
her around to face him, and said, "Young lady, you are out of line!  You've
been asking for a spanking, and now you're going to get it!"

   With that, he bent her under his arm, threw up her skirt, and proceeded
to give her a brisk, businesslike spanking.  SMAK, SWACK, SWAP!  "Ah!  Oh!
O-O-O!" she cried out as she wriggled and squirmed from her punishment. 
Not only did it sting, but it was terribly embarrassing to have a man
spanking her bare nine-year-old bottom!  With a final SMACK!  he
straightened her up and tossed her skirt back over her bottom.  Then he
went back to work.  She stood there, somewhat dazed and bewildered from the
experience, expecting him at any moment to come back and rape her.  When he
didn't, she didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed.  That night
she masturbated vigorously to the thought of him spanking and raping her.

   More days passed, and again he did not spank or rape her.  She would
have thought that he didn't care for her, except that he was very loving in
every other way.  He hugged her tight when he first saw her in the mornings
(they still slept in separate rooms), he spent time with her, talking,
reading to her, teaching her history and interplanetary cosmology, and so
forth.

   In fact, it was in the setting of her lessons with him that he punished
her next.  He had begun to give her little assignments in mathematics for
her to do while he was away.  One day he was checking one piece of work
while she diligently plowed through another.  He marked the wrong answers
and set it in front of her.

   "You've missed three questions out of twenty.  That's good, but not good
enough; you'll have to be punished, young lady." With that he slid her
chair out from under the desk, her bare thighs gleaming in the light.  He
swept a ruler off the desk and brought it down sharply across the top of
her thighs, WAK!

   "AAAH!" she cried out, and "OOO!  A-A-A-AAAH!" again, as he smacked her
thighs over and over.  Then he pulled her to her feet and bent her forwards
over the desk.  He tossed up her skirt, and WAPWAPWAP!  went the ruler
across her naked bottom as she moaned and yelped.  Then he spun her around,
bent her backward over the desk, and brought the ruler up once, sharply,
between her legs, full upon her unfledged girlcleft: WAPPP!  "AAAAAA!" she
nearly screamed, and almost came on the spot.

   He tossed the ruler back on the desk, gave her a quick hug, and strode
out, saying, "There, young lady, I hope you've learned your lesson!" As he
left, she sank back into her chair, rubbing her little bottom, thighs, and
cleft as she moaned and sobbed.

   That night, he came to her room.  She was asleep.  He pulled her covers
back and gazed down at her in wonder and delight.  Then he took the riding
crop he had with him, nudged the hem of her shift up off her thighs, and
began whipping her directly on her bare thighs, WAKWAKWAKWAK!  "AAAA!" she
cried out as she woke up, frantic.  He swept her up in his arms, cuddling
her closely as her fear left her, and she relaxed against him, feeling safe
and protected.  Then he sent her to the bathroom.

   When she returned, he had her stand in the middle of the floor.  He took
a switch he had brought with him and began to systematically whip her legs,
starting with the backs of her calves, then the backs of her thighs, then
the front of her thighs, and then her bottom.  He spent some time switching
her on her buttocks, letting the sting of one stroke set in, then
delivering another just above or below the previous, admiring the network
of thin, faint red lines that faded slowly.

   He stopped abruptly, and pulled her shift all the way off her slender
preteen body, now swaying from the intensity of her punishment.  She was
stunning: long silky hair, slim shoulders and hips only barely beginning to
think about flaring, hardly any baby fat left, her nipples just starting to
become more prominent, but nothing underneath them except breast buds, her
sweet unfledged cleft lips peeping out from between her thighs.  The top of
her head barely came up to his chest.  She was deeply embarrassed to be
just nine years old and to be so naked in front of a grown man.
He stared for a while at her little breasts.  She blushed prettily,
nearly down to her nipples.  Suddenly he seized her breast buds and nipples
in his hands and began to knead and work them, pinching and twisting her

tender nipples as she gasped and moaned, "SSSS!  Ooooo!"

   Then he took the switch and began to whip her directly on her nipples
and breast buds.  WAK!  WAP!  "Ooooh!  Aaaaah!  Oh, please Sir!  AAAA!" she
cried out.  When he finally finished whipping her breasts they were
fetchingly reddened, her nipples stiff and tender.

   He took her to the bed and put her in knee-chest position.  She squirmed
at the realization of how exposed her little-girl cleft and anus were to
the man's eyes.  Then all thought was driven from her mind, for he had
brought a groovestrap whistling down to smack full upon her girlcleft, her
perineum, and her anus, WHAPP!  "AAAAAAA!" she nearly screamed, and then,
"OOOOO!  AAAA!  A-A-A-A-AAAAH!" as he whipped her again and again on her
most intimate parts.

   Finally he could hold back no longer.  He probed her anus fiercely with
lubricated fingers; one, two, then three at a time, his other hand roughly
massaging her clitoris, as she yipped and squirmed.  Then he lay over her,
seized her slim shoulders, and plunged his rod with one thrust deep into
her tender delicate anus.  She cried out wildly as she felt her tissues
stretch to accommodate his tool.  She cried out more, rhythmically, as he
methodically raped her anus, reaching around to molest her clitoris so that
soon she was bucking and moaning, and crying out and coming, as he too
achieved climax, spilling his seed into her rectum as she sobbed and
sniffed.

   He carried her into the bathroom and started the shower.  He took her
into the shower and commenced to clean her well, with a rough terry cloth
scrubbing her nipples, clitoris, and anus.  When she moaned and struggled
briefly, he said sternly, "Hold still, young lady!" and he pushed her front
up against the wall, so that her nipples and cleft lips were pressed
against the cold tile.  He took a flexible clear plastic ruler that was
hanging in the shower and smacked her bottom and the backs of her thighs.
Then he repeatedly brought it up sharply between her legs as she cried out
wildly.  He returned to washing her, and this time she held still!

   He took her out of the shower and carefully dried her, again paying
close attention to her nipples, her unfledged girlcleft, and her anus, as
she moaned and trembled.  He carried her tenderly back to the bed and laid
her gently upon it.  He kissed her all over her face: forehead, glabellas,
the tip of her nose, cheeks, and then full on her mouth, long and sweet. 
Then he kissed her neck and moved down to her chest.  He went from one
nipple to the other, nibbling and sucking, biting and pulling, as she
moaned softly.  He slid down to her belly, pausing a moment to playfully
blow a zorbert into her jewel of a navel, making her giggle.

   Then suddenly he was there, essentially raping her cleft with his
tongue, pressing insistently against her hymen, then seizing her clitoris
in a long bite between tongue and teeth that left her nearly paralyzed from
the intensity of feeling it provoked in her.  The embarrassment of knowing
that, at nine years old, a man was kissing her on her most intimate place,
was nearly overwhelming.  Yet her hips were moving of their own volition,
pressing her smooth little sex against his mouth.  Her breath came shorter
and shorter, her little soft cries becoming louder and more intense.

   It was time.  He raised up, pressed the head of his rod against the
unfledged lips of her vulva.  He insinuated himself within her until he was
pressing firmly against her hymen.  Then with one hard thrust he raped her
of her maidenhead and buried himself to her cervix as she screamed and
sobbed.  He lay with her, not moving, as her sobs died down to the
occasional sniffle.  She could feel his rod throbbing within her.  He began
to thrust in and out of her, long and slow at first, then faster and
harder, raping her thoroughly as she nearly screamed with each thrust. 
Soon the familiar wave began building between her legs, then spreading to
take over her whole body, as she came and came, shouting, "Oh, Sir!  Oh,
Sir!  Oh, Sir!  OOOOOH!" Even after she had spent herself, he punished her
with repeated hard, long strokes, until finally he deigned to empty his
seed at her cervix.

   She lay in his arms for some time afterwards, now fulfilled, knowing
that she was safe, and loved, and desired, and punished.

   The End

   All comments welcome.

   cc

   All comments deliriously welcomed!
   ccccc12345@lavabit.com