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 My Little Runaway - Semi-Truck

   Written by cc M/g ped spank romantic reluc oral anal

   "Well, here I sit

   all alone with a broken heart

   I took three bennies

   and my semi truck won't start"

   [from 'Semi Truck' by Commander Cody and His Lost Planet Airmen]



   Well I didn't take bennies; I don't do drugs.  But I did drink three
stiff cups of coffee, and my semi-truck wouldn't start, and I was all
alone, maybe not with a broken heart, but I wasn't happy.

   I'd been looking for someone to settle down with for a while.  Dating
websites, blind dates through friends, hanging out in all kinds of places
from churches to bars: no one really had 'clicked' enough for me to even
dig deep enough to find out if I would want to marry her.  And besides, I
knew myself...

   In biology in college I remember reading about different kinds of
bacteria that they called 'facultative' and 'obligate' anaerobes.  An
anaerobe is a bacterium whose metabolism functions without oxygen.  An
'obligate' aerobe dies without oxygen.  A 'facultative' anaerobe can switch
to a metabolism that doesn't use oxygen if there's none to be had.  But it
does better with the metabolism that uses oxygen.

   I guess I'm what you'd call 'facultative' in my sexuality.  I'm a
spankophile/pedophile, but I can 'function' sexually without either.  I'm
perfectly capable of getting amorously excited by a pretty adult woman, and
can have sex with her without any suggestion of spanking.  But the idea of
having sex with a pretty preteen girl, especially if I were to spank and
sexually discipline her in the process, puts me into overdrive!

   I drive a truck, but that's mainly to have something to do, and as an
excuse to travel the country.  The money's handy, too, but I inherited
some, and I don't need much.  Of course, I'd been considering trying to
make some kind of overseas trip to find a little girl I could marry.  That
would take some serious money, and involve quite a bit of investigation, so
I'd been starting to really save, and I had fair amount put by.

   My biggest expense was my Kenworth, with a custom sleeper cab.  A real
comfortable ride.  But right now it was sitting in the truck stop lot and I
was sitting in the diner, finishing my third cup of joe.  The load I was
hauling was due too soon for me to take a nap just yet, and I didn't want
to disappoint them.

   I drank up, left money for the tab and a tip, and walked back out to my
rig.  I thought I'd try it one more time before giving up and talking to
the mechanics.  I climbed in and lo and behold it started right up!  So I
headed back out onto the road.

   I have an eclectic mix on my i-Pod: late 60's-early 70's classic rock,
some bluegrass, jazz, Beethoven...but I also have some special recordings.
OK, so they're recordings of 'phone sex', but I paid a bit extra for the
girl to pretend to be a preteen on the receiving end of some sexual
discipline.  I popped in my earbuds and put on one of my favorites:

   "Oh, 'Daddy', please, do I haveta be punished?"

   "Now, little one, you know you've been a naughty girl, so 'Daddy's'
going to give you a good spanking, right on your naked bottom!"
[SMACK-SMACK-SMACK!]

   "Oh-Oh-Oh!  O, 'Daddy', my little bottom's stinging!  Oh, please!"

   "Little girl's need to be front-spanked, so 'Daddy's' going to spank you
right on your little girlcleft." [SMACK-SMACK-SMACK!]

   "AH-AH-AH!  Oh, 'Daddy', my little cleft!  O, 'Daddy', getting spanked
on my cleft makes me feel so...strange!  O, O, OOOOO!"

   She had done a nice impression of a little girl having a
'punishment-'gasm', I must admit.  Very...stimulating!

   If I hadn't been so distracted, I might have been aware sooner that
there was...something, I didn't know what, in my sleeper cab.  Whatever it
was wasn't as big as a man, I could tell from the motion and the noise. 
But it was bigger than a small animal.  Regardless, there was no way I was
going to keep driving without checking it out!  There was no rest area
nearby, so I pulled off the nearest exit onto what appeared to be a pretty
deserted stretch of road.  The highway had been pretty empty, too.

   As I slowed down to a stop I eased my S&W Police Positive out of the
holster next to my seat.  Then I jumped out of my seat to the right and
spun around with a shout to face inside the sleeper compartment.  I heard a
squeak; I couldn't quite make out what it was, so I sidled inside and
looked around.

   She was tucked between the bulkhead behind my seat and the fridge.  I
was so startled when I saw her I yelled again.  She screamed, and tried to
push herself even farther back into the little enclosure.  Even in the
midst of the excitement, it registered in my mind somehow: a pretty little
girl was sitting on the floor of my sleeper cab.  Her knees were drawn up
against her chest, affording me a sweet 'panty shot' complete with 'camel
toe', which, under other circumstances, I would have lingered over.

   In a moment or two I had recovered enough from the shock to make a show
of uncocking the pistol and laying it down on the counter.  I knelt down in
front of her, palms out, making 'shushing' noises, and saying, "It's OK,
I'm not going to hurt you," over and over.  Finally she calmed down enough
to quit screaming.  She just sort of whimpered with each breath.  I think
she 'came to' herself enough to realize how...exposed she was, because all
of a sudden she put her knees down and pulled the hem of her skirt towards
her knees.

   I glanced around.  There was a loaf of bread out on the counter, a
half-eaten piece next to it.  The girl was skinny; I presumed she had been
scarfing it when I pulled over, and she hadn't had time to hide the
evidence.  I slipped over to the seat at the small table and grabbed the
bread.  With a long arm I snagged the honey bear out of the cupboard and
put both in front of me, beckoning to the girl to come and eat.  I patted
the seat next to me.

   After a bit of coaxing she crept over, sat on the edge of the seat, and,
eyeing me most of the time, proceeded to wolf down three pieces of bread
and honey in quick succession.  She was cute, with long, straight,
dirty-blonde hair, a button nose, blue eyes, and a few freckles.  She was
also pretty dirty, and frankly she smelled like she really needed a bath,
too.

   After she'd polished off the third piece I finally asked her, "What's
your name?"

   "Cindy," she replied, "What's yours?"

   "Joe.  Joe Bradley.  When did you get in my truck?"

   "When you were at the truck stop."

   "Where's your mom and dad?  Why did you get in my truck?"

   She hung her head.  "I don't have a mom and dad," she said quietly.

   "I'm so sorry, honey, I didn't mean to make you feel bad." I felt like
an idiot.  A pretty little girl, obviously not well-cared for or
well-monitored, stows away on my truck.  How likely is it that she has a
mom or a dad in her life?  "Why did you get in my truck?"

   "I...I was hungry, and-and-and I saw you get out and go inside and you
looked...I dunno, kind of sad or something but you looked...nice, and your
truck looked really big and nice, so I got in to look for something to eat.
I'm sorry," she finished, despondently.

   "Don't be sorry, and don't worry, Cindy, you can have plenty to eat, and
I'll try to do whatever I can to help you." She looked a bit more hopeful
at that.

   "How old are you?  Where do you live?  Why were you hungry, and why were
you at the truck stop?" I continued my gentle interrogation.

   She looked down at her lap.  "I'm ten.  My birthday was last month, but
I didn't have a party or anything.  I was in a foster home.  They-they
weren't very...nice.  I tried to tell the social worker but she wouldn't
listen to me.  I heard'em talking about how they were going to take me down
to Mexico, and-and-and sell me!" Tears started to flow at that point.  I
grabbed some tissues and gave them to her.

   "I'm so sorry, Cindy, I'm so sorry," I kept saying.  The poor little
lost thing.

   "So they had me in the car.  They didn't know that I'd heard'em talking;
they kept saying we were going on a vacation.  So when we stopped at the
truck stop I told'em I had to go the bathroom and they just let me.  Then I
climbed out a window and went around back and-and-and hid in a dumpster."
That explained why her clothes were a mess and she smelled...ripe.  "I
heard'em walking around and calling my name.  But they didn't shout real
loud, and I don't think they told anyone about me being gone."

   "My guess is they didn't want anyone like the police involved,
considering what they were up to," I opined.

   "That's kinda what I thought, too," she said.  "So after it got dark I
crawled out of the dumpster.  I didn't know what to do.  I was too scared
to tell anybody about it.  And then I saw you, and got in your truck and
stuff."

   "Well, Cindy, like I said, I'm going to do whatever I can to help you.
Do you have any family at all?"

   She shook her head.  "I never knew my dad.  I don't know where my mom
is. She does drugs." She screwed her little mouth up in a grimace.

   I felt so bad for her.  A common enough tale, but so, so sad.  "Is there
anyone you'd like me to call, or take you to?  I mean, I really should take
you to the police station, you know..." Absolutely true.  In fact, the
longer I waited to do that, the worse it would look if anyone in authority
found out that I had waited.

   "Please don't take me there!  I don't wanna go there!" She started to
tear up again.

   "Honey, Cindy, please don't cry, I won't take you anywhere you don't
want to go.  But that's where you should go.  I mean, that's where anybody
would say you should go."

   "But...but they might put me back with the same people."

   "I don't think so, not when you told them what you told me."

   "Even so, they'd just put me in some other foster home, or maybe in
juvie.  I don't want to go there.  I don't want to go in another foster
home.  Please, Mr.  Bradley, please: can't I stay with you?  At least for a
while?"

   Oh boy, what a decision.  I know I could easily be accused of thinking
with my heart, and maybe with another part of my anatomy, instead of my
head, but...

   "OK, Cindy, you can stay with me.  For now, at least."

   She brightened up, and threw her little arms around me, saying, "Thank
you, O thank you, Mr.  Bradley!"

   That was nice, but...I gently eased her little arms off me.  "Um, Cindy,
I'm not trying to be mean or anything, but remember you just spent some
time in a dumpster..."

   She looked horrified.  "Oh, Mr.  Bradley I'm so sorry!" She started to
tear up again.

   "Don't cry, honey, it's all right, we'll take care of that just as soon
as we can.  I mean, if you're going to ride in my nice clean truck then you
have to be nice and clean, too, right?" She nodded happily.

   I thought for a moment.  Again, I'm not sure I was thinking with my
head, though...

   "All right, honey, now I want you to listen very carefully to me. 
Remember I asked you if there was anyone you wanted me to take you to?  Or
if you wanted me to take you to the police station?" She nodded.  "Well,
anytime you decide you don't want to ride with me anymore all you have to
do is tell me, and I'll take you to the police, or anywhere you want to go,
as long as it would be safe for you.  So remember that.

   "But as long as you ride with me, you have to remember something: this
is my truck, and I'm in charge.  You have to do what I tell you.  I'm not
going to tell you to do anything dangerous or anything like that.

   "But if you're going to sit on my clean truck seats, you have to be
clean.  Really clean.  Especially where you sit down.  So I'm going to take
you into my shower and wash you.  OK?"

   "...You mean you're going to-to-to wash me?  In the shower?  Like, with
no clothes on?" She screwed her little face up and looked at me.

   "That's right.  Remember what I said: it's up to you, stay with me or
not."

   She sat there for a minute, head down.  "You're not gonna...gonna put
your thing in me or anything, are you?" she finally asked quietly.

   Inwardly I groaned.  How I longed to shout, 'You bet, but I'm going to
give you a good spanking first!' Instead I said, "No honey, I'm not going
to do that, but I am going to have to touch you down there, to get you
clean.  I'm not going to hurt you, but it might be a little
bit...uncomfortable, because I really want to make sure you're clean, I
mean thoroughly."

   After a pause, she said, "OK.  I wanna stay with you."

   "All right, then, honey, let's get it done."

   Like I said, I had a big custom sleeper, and I even had them put in a
shower stall.  I opened it up and turned on the water.  I had a pretty good
size tank, and I'd just topped it off.  I let it run for a moment, warming
it up.  "Go ahead and get undressed," I said.

   To my great delight, without further comment or ado, she began to shed.
She kicked off her sandals.  She was wearing some kind of sundress.  She
slipped the straps off her shoulders and shimmied it down off her hips. 
She wasn't wearing any kind of bra.  No need for it: all she had were
nipples atop breastbuds that barely broke the plane of her chest.  Now she
was down to her underwear, white cotton with some cartoon print, with lacy
trim.  She hooked her thumbs in them and pulled them down.

   Now I had a naked preteen girl in the sleeper cab of my truck.  What a
rush.  She was heartbreakingly slender, and cute as a button, despite the
grime that clung to her.  Her cleft was unfledged, bare, with the puffy
lips and prominent clitoris typical for a preteen girl.  Gorgeous.

   I motioned her into the shower, with the temperature set for a
comfortable warmth.  She leaned into it, letting the water cascade over her
head and down her shoulders.  Once she was well wetted, I told her, "Keep
your eyes closed," and squirted some shampoo on her head.  I worked it in,
lathering it up well, then rinsed her hair and did it again.  'Lather,
rinse, repeat', just like the bottle says, eh?

   Then I took a washcloth and soap and went to work on the rest of her. 
First her sweet pixie face, gently washing her ears, around her eyes, nose,
and mouth, then wiping the soap off so she wouldn't get it in her eyes or
mouth.  I lightly touched her nose with the tip of my finger, teasing her a
bit.  She gave me a shy smile.

   Then I soaped up her slender shoulders, her arms, her hands.  Then down
her back, stopping just above her waist.  I skipped down to her feet,
spending a bit of time there to make sure she was clean.  Then I worked up
her sweet legs, until I was at her upper thighs.

   I skipped again, now back up to her belly.  She had an 'innie', and I
made sure I got all the lint out as she giggled.  Then it was time.

   I put my washcloth on her chest, and began to wash her.  I wasn't rough,
I was firm but gentle, scrubbing her nipples and breastbuds.  I'll make no
bones about it: I lingered, and I enjoyed it.  She just watched me.

   Then I went at her bottom.  She had the cutest little 'bubble-butt',
soft and firm, and I reveled in the feel of it under my hand.  It took a
bit of self-control to keep from giving her a spanking right then.

   With my bare hand I insinuated between her buttocks cheeks and reached
her anus.  She said, "Hey!" and moved away from me.

   I didn't shout or treat her roughly.  I just gently turned her to face
me, and said, "Do you want to stay with me?" She looked for a moment, then
nodded.  "Have I hurt you?" She shook her head.  "Then don't pull away,
OK?"

   I turned her back around and resumed.  I soaped my hand up well and
pushed my index finger against her anus.  I gently worked it in, feeling
her sphincter clench and spasm.  I moved it in and out a few times, washing
her thoroughly.  She whimpered a bit, but didn't pull away.  Needless to
say I was enjoying myself thoroughly: how many times had I fantasized about
probing a preteen girl's anus, and now it was a reality!

   As much as I longed to continue, and to insert two and then three
fingers in her anus and really violate her, I gently pulled out.  I washed
and rinsed my hand, then soaped it up again and resumed washing her, now
slipping around to her front.  I ran my fingers softly over her puffy
unfledged cleftlips, reveling in the knowledge that I was actually touching
a preteen girl's vulva, feeling the smoothness, rolling her prominent
clitoris back and forth a few times, diving in between her outer lips to
trace over her inner labia as she trembled.  But she didn't pull away...

   Then I took the phone shower head and rinsed her well, quietly enjoying
myself when I was almost done as I held her buttocks cheeks apart to spray
directly into her anus, seeing her clench a bit at the feel of the needle
spray, then spraying her full upon her cleft for a few moments.

   Finally I had no good excuse to prolong it, so I shut off the water,
grabbed a nice fluffy towel, and wrapped her in it.  I rubbed her gently
all over, drying her thoroughly, patting her in between her buttocks cheeks
and directly on her cleft.  I didn't rub her there: the terry towel might
have felt too rough, and I had no desire to cause her significant
discomfort.  Being a spankophile does not necessarily mean one actually
wants to inflict pain...

   When I was done I knelt on one knee in front of her and took her little
face in my hands.  "Are you OK?" I asked.  She looked in my eyes and nodded
slowly.  "I know it was creepy, and I was touching you a lot...down there,
but I didn't hurt you, did I?" She shook her head solemnly.  "OK, then,
let's get you dressed."

   I dug out an old, soft flannel shirt and slipped it on her.  "You still
hungry?" I asked, touching the tip of her nose again in a playful fashion.

   "Mm-hm," she replied with a small smile.

   OK, you might wonder, what if she says she wants to go the police NOW,
smart guy?  I thought about it.  Figured if it came to that, I'd rent a car
and drive her to the station in it, and I wouldn't take her in myself, I'm
not that stupid.  I'd drop her off a block away and drive off as soon as
she entered the door, maybe use a payphone down the street to call in to
make sure they know she's there.  Still a risk, I know, but no risk, no
gain, eh?

   I picked her up and carried her to the cab, sitting her in the passenger
seat.  "How about we find you a Mickey D's or something, that all right
with you?" She nodded with a big grin.  A few bucks' worth of a Big Kids
Meal and a Frosty later she was well-content.

   It took a little navigating, but I found a small town on my route, with
a little 'department' store with children's clothes, in a location I could
park near enough.  I fed the saleslady a story about 'my daughter losing
her suitcase' to explain why she was in one of my shirts, and we walked out
with enough to last her until we could get to someplace to settle a bit. 
She seemed pleased.  The clothes were cute and reasonably well-made;
judging from what she'd had on before I doubt if anyone had spent a lot of
time getting her nice things to wear.

   While I drove, she dozed in the passenger's seat, or slid into the bunk,
snacked, played with my DS.  I expect that she had been a very subdued
little girl in her prior living situation, but almost hour by hour it
seemed to me that she blossomed, becoming more sweet, smart, funny, and
just a little sassy.  The only problem I had with her was her mouth; I had
to ask her not to use bad language twice (I detest the sound of swear words
coming from a girl); she apologized both times, and after that I heard no
more of cussing from her.

   I finished my run without further to-do.  Once I had my payoff I had to
decide what next.  I could've picked up another run easily, but I didn't
have to: like I said I had a fair bit saved, and now I had a nice chunk of
change in my pocket.

   "So what should we do now, hm?" I asked her as I settled into the
driver's seat, stuffing my pay envelope into my pocket.  "I know I all
ready asked you, but I'm going to say it again: is there anyone you want me
to take you to?  Relatives, friends, anyone?"

   "Uh-uh.  I don't have to go anywhere, do I?  Can't I keep driving with
you?" she replied in an anxious voice.

   "Well, I guess if you're sure you want to, you can stay with me.  But I
was thinking: I don't need to do any driving right now, so maybe we could
take a little vacation.  Have you ever been to DisneyWorld?"

   "Oh, Mr.  Joe!  Do you really mean it?!  I've never been there!  Can we
really go?" She was practically vibrating with excitement.

   "We sure can.  But Cindy, you know what?  I think whenever we're around
other people, you'd better call me `Dad' or `Daddy', OK?" I told her.

   She giggled.  "OK, `Daddy'," she replied.  Then she got a bit more
solemn.  "But isn't that like lying?"

   "Well, maybe, but we're not trying to do anything but protect you. 
We're not trying to get something from anyone or hurt anybody.  So I think
it's OK," I answered her.  She seemed satisfied.

   I have Internet capability in my truck; technology is amazing, ain't it?
It took no time at all to make the arrangements.  I parked the truck in a
long-stay area, and we caught a flight to Orlando.



   We spent a week there, staying at the Polynesian.  I don't think we
missed a single ride that she wanted to go on, and we saw all the shows:
Lion King, Nemo, the Little Mermaid: she ate'em up.  I took her to Downtown
Disney, got us both some fancy duds, and got her hair styled.  It was
off-season, so I managed to get us a table at Victoria and Albert's one
evening for dinner.  She was now dressed so prettily, in an
off-one-shoulder fairly low-cut confection, that heads turned as we walked
in, at least the male ones did...

   I got her a cute, skimpy little bikini, and just about had a heart
attack when I saw her in it; it bordered on the obscene, but she seemed to
like it.  Sure, I'd seen her naked, but isn't it interesting that sometimes
the barely-clothed female form is even more enticing than the nude?  It was
nice and warm, and we tore up Blizzard Beach and Typhoon Lagoon.  I'm
pretty sure I caught more than one grown man eyeing her discreetly...

   By the 4th or 5th day we were getting pretty familiar with each other, I
think.  We had just the one room at the Polynesian.  She quickly developed
the habit of changing her underwear in the bathroom, but didn't seem to
mind changing everything else in front of me, so I got to see her topless a
few times, if only briefly.  I went ahead and did the same.  I'm no movie
star, but I keep myself fit, so I didn't mind her seeing me in my briefs,
all though occasionally I had to hide the 'gallant reflex', considering
that I had a pretty, nearly-naked preteen in the room with me!

   The first night we bedded down on separate beds.  I awoke around
midnight to find her cuddled up against me.  It took a bit of self-control
to keep from fondling her right then, but I managed to just pull the covers
up over her shoulders and put an arm around her.  She snuggled into my side
with a sigh.  The next night she just crawled into my bed before I even got
in it and plopped down on the pillow next to mine.  I'll freely admit, I
had to spend a few sessions in the bathroom to get some relief!

   Four or five days into our trip we were having a blast it seemed to me.
I couldn't get over how much fun it was, tripping around Disneyworld with a
gorgeous, sweet ten-year-old girl.  We took her picture with every
character we could find.  She collected those pins.  We ate when we were
hungry, rested our feet when we were tired, and fast-passed our way onto
every hot ride there was and most of the rest.

   In the middle of the day we had paused for ice cream.  She had a
chocolate cone and was busily munching it down as I perused the map,
planning our next move.  "Shi--!" I heard her exclaim, stopping herself
before she had `said it all the way'.  I looked down; most of her cone had
landed on the sidewalk, some of it spilling onto her white running shoes.
She glanced up at me, a look on her face that somehow combined guilt,
anger, and frustration.  And lurking behind all that was pain...

   I knelt down beside her, grabbing some tissue from my pocket and taking
a swipe at her sneakers.  Tears were starting to leak from her eyes.  "It's
all right, Cindy, it's all right.  You stopped yourself from saying it, I'm
not mad.  It takes time to get used to watching your language, and you're
trying, that's all I can ask.  And we'll get you another ice cream cone," I
finished.

   Without warning she launched herself at me, throwing her arms around my
neck, clinging tight, and sobbing nearly hysterically.  I stood up with her
in my arms and moved over to a nearby bench to get out of traffic, as it
were.  A few people were looking, but no one seemed disturbed; a little
girl was crying, and her daddy was comforting her, that's all they could
see.  She was perhaps a little old to be a crying child in Disneyworld, but
otherwise nothing was really out of the ordinary.

   I held her, rocking her back and forth on the bench, letting her cry it
out: all the hurt, the abandonment, the fear.  In a bit she quieted down
some.  I leaned her out so that we were nearly cheek to cheek, both looking
out at the people walking by, and whispered in her ear, "Cindy, my darling
girl, listen to me.  I'm not God, and I'm not Superman.  I can't do
everything and I can't predict the future.  But I'm telling you now: I'm
going to do everything I can to make sure that the rest of your life is
going to be just as happy as hers, and hers, and hers, and hers ought to
be," pointing discreetly at other little girls as they passed.  "Your hard
times are over.  You're safe now, OK?"
She looked back at me and nodded solemnly.  I wiped the tears from her
face and said, "Now let's get you another ice cream cone, hm?" She nodded

more happily and we went on our way.

   That evening we were lying in bed watching a movie (Space Jam, I believe
- pretty hilarious stuff, especially if you're watching it with a
ten-year-old) after a full day ending with the fireworks and light show on
the lake at Epcot.  She was leaning against me, and my arm was around her
shoulders.  I leaned over every now and then and kissed the top of her
head. She seemed to like it: she leaned a bit more against me.

   "Cindy," I said, and she turned to look up at me.  "Would you mind if I
kissed you...more than just here," and I touched the top of her head.

   She looked at me for a long moment, then shook her head.  "Unh-unh, I
wouldn't mind," she said in a small voice.

   I tipped her little face towards mine and kissed her on her mouth.  Just
a sweet little kiss, but I lingered on it for a moment, reveling in the
feel and smell of this pretty preteen.  I rubbed noses with her for a
second and she giggled a bit.

   "C'mere," I said, sitting back and pulling her up on my lap.  She laid
back against my chest without protest and we watched the rest of the movie.

   When it was over I turned her a bit sideways on my lap and pulled her
against me in a hug.  She hugged me back.  "You know, honey, I really like
you.  Actually I really love you.  And you know I want you to be happy. 
Right?" I leaned her out a bit and looked in her eyes.

   She looked back and nodded.  "I love you, too, Mr.  Joe," she replied.
"Thanks.  Thanks so much for taking care of me, and-and-and feeding me and
not taking me back to the foster home people or the police and-and-and for
taking me to DisneyWorld!  This is the greatest!" she ended with almost a
shout.

   "I'm so glad you're enjoying it, sweetheart, I really am.  And I am,
too. But we've got to talk about what we're going to do when we leave, OK?"
She nodded, a bit more somberly.

   "I've got to tell you something," I continued, "And I don't know how
much of it you'll understand, but I'm going to try anyways.  I don't know
if you could tell, but maybe you could, that I really enjoyed giving you a
shower that first day, and I really like seeing you in your bikini, and
when you only have panties on.  Could you tell that?" She looked down and
nodded slowly.  "Does that bother you?  Does that make you feel bad that I
think you're really pretty, and even really sexy?"

   She giggled a bit at that, and looked up and shook her head.  "Uh-uh,"
she replied.

   "That's good, I don't want to make you feel bad or anything.  In fact,
what I'd really like to do is make you feel really, really good.  And I'd
like to have you with me forever, and take care of you, and love you," I
continued.

   "Then I can stay with you?!" she chirped.

   "Well, sweetheart, here's the thing: remember I said that you were
really pretty, and really sexy?" She giggled again and nodded.  "Do you
really know what it means, when a guy thinks a girl is sexy?"

   She looked down again for a moment, and then looked up and said, "It-it
means he wants to-to have s-sex with her..." She almost mumbled the words.

   "That's right, but sweetheart, let me tell you right now, whatever we
do, I don't want to hurt you or harm you.  Even if you said, 'let's have
sex right now!' I wouldn't just do it, because it would hurt you too much.
There's ways to do it that wouldn't hurt so much, but we don't have to talk
about that right now.

   "The thing is, if you were around me all the time, and we didn't have
sex or anything, that would be real...frustrating for me.  It would be a
bit like being real hungry all the time, and other people were always
eating right in front of you, but you couldn't have hardly anything to eat,
do you know what I mean?" She nodded, her eyes big and solemn.  "So if you
stay with me, I've pretty much decided that we'd have to get married..."

   I waited half a beat for it.  "Married?!  But-but I'm only ten, we
couldn't get married!  Could we...?" she ended with what sounded like
almost a hopeful note.

   "Not in the United States, but maybe some other place in the world we
could.  And then, if we wanted, we could come back here, but we'd have to
keep it sort of a secret, at least until you were older.

   "Now I know that's a really big thing to think about.  You don't have to
decide right away.  And remember: I'm always willing to take you to the
police, or any other place that would be safe for you.  You don't have to
stay with me.  But if you decide you want to marry me, there's one other
thing we'll need to talk about first.

   "But for now, let's get some sleep.  We've got the Animal Kingdom to
tear up tomorrow!" She grinned, leaned up and kissed me on the lips, then
plopped down on her pillow and went to sleep.

   After a full day of safari, raft ride, and Expedition: Everest (Cindy
screeched appropriately and clung to me charmingly when the Yeti appeared)
we were back at the Polynesian getting ready for bed.  I propped myself up
with some pillows and she plopped down next to me.  She looked up at me.  I
looked down at her.  "I wanna marry you," she announced.

   "Oh, sweetheart, nothing would make me happier, but are you sure?" She
nodded with a big grin on her face.

   Yeah, yeah, I know: I was exploiting her.  She wasn't old enough to
decide, blah blah blah.  No question: if she had been my ten-year-old
daughter, no way in the world would I have let her make such a decision. 
But she wasn't.  Effectively she wasn't anyone's daughter.  Through most of
human history the only protection a little girl has had from abuse has been
her family, and marriages at her age have only become rare recently, and
only in the West.  I loved her, and I was going to take care of her, and
neither she nor I wanted her back in a foster home.

   But there was one thing...

   "Cindy darling, there's just one other thing I've got to tell you about.
When you hear it, maybe you won't want to marry me.  It'll be up to you.



   "You remember I told you how frustrating it would be for me to have you
around all the time and not be married to you?" She nodded.  "That's
because of something called 'sexual desire'.  It's like being hungry for
food, only it's 'hungry' for having sex.  Most men have this desire often.
Many women and girls do, too.  Do you understand so far?"

   "...Uh-huh."

   "There actually are different types of sexual desire.  Most men just
have sexual desire for women and girls, usually pretty ones.  But some men
have other desires in addition to that.  These other desires are called
'fetishes', and they come in many different forms.  For instance, believe
it or not, little one, there are some men who don't get fully sexually
excited unless the woman they are with is wearing shoes, sometimes a
particular type of shoes, like high-heeled red ones." She looked
astonished. "It's true!  And there's many other totally different kinds of
fetishes.

   "You might have guessed why I'm telling you all this.  I am one of those
men who have a fetish.  Actually two of them.  One of them is that I find
girls around your age to be very sexy.  There's girls of all ages that I
think are sexy, but your age is the sexiest to me.

   "The other one is this: I enjoy spanking and sexually punishing a girl
before and during sex.  Oh, I can have sex without it, but it's much more
enjoyable for me with it.  I'm not talking about anything very painful;
just the kind of punishments that any father might give his little girl if
she's been naughty.  But I do them...a little differently!  And I'm not
talking about actually causing you pain.  It would be more for play, like
make-believe.  And even if we were doing it make-believe I wouldn't want
you to even pretend it hurt very much, maybe pretend it stings a little,
and is embarrassing, but also sort of feels good in a way.

   "I know all that sounds strange, and maybe even creepy, but that's how
it is.  If we're married, I'm going to want to be able to spank you and
stuff like that a lot, but not hard or anything; like I said, just
make-believe," I finished.

   "W-why do you like doing that?" she inquired, her little face screwed up
questioningly.

   "Honey, I don't know; why do you like chocolate ice cream?  [She must
have eaten three quarts of it since we came to DisneyWorld!] Why not
vanilla, or strawberry?  I just found out I liked it, but I don't know
why." And I don't, though I've often wondered.

   There was a long pause.  She was looking down, I guess thinking.  I took
a risk:

   "Cindy, I've got an idea: let's try what I'm talking about, just a
little bit, so you'll see what I mean.  Don't be afraid.  All you have to
do is say 'stop' or 'no' or 'don't' or even 'ow' and I'll stop.  OK?"

   Without waiting for a formal reply I began to slide her down over my
knees.  She didn't exactly protest, but she didn't exactly cooperate
either. She gave out an "Um..." and a "Hey!" but soon I had her over my
knees.

   Now a pretty preteen girl was draped over my lap for a spanking.  I
could feel my rod all ready swelling, just at the positioning.  She was
wearing a cute little denim skirt; I lifted it up and over her bottom.  She
flapped her hand in vague but impotent protest, but didn't try to squirm
away.  Then I hooked my fingers in the waistband of her cotton panties and
slowly pulled them down.  She stiffened...but didn't say anything.

   I began to spank her, gently, gently at first, barely enough to make a
sound.  Every now and then I would pause and just rub and soothe her
bottom. Then I began to pick it up a little, now making an audible but soft
SMACK with each spank, enough so that she could feel it, but not enough to
sting.

   Even if I never went any further with her, this moment would be
indelibly seared in my memory: a pretty little girl was over my knee, her
skirt thrown up and her panties pulled down, trembling and whimpering as I
spanked her soft, round bottom.  I'm sure she could feel my rod poking her
in her tummy; I was hard as a rock.

   I would have loved to go on, but I didn't want to freak her out any more
than I probably all ready had.  I stopped when her bottom was just lightly
pinked.  Then I just rubbed her, soothingly, gently, caressing her as
lovingly as I could.  I leaned down and whispered in her ear, "Are you OK?"


   "Mm-hm," she murmured.  I pulled her up to me, encircling her in my
arms, hugging her dear sweet slender body to mine.  She hugged me back,
which made me feel so good, because I could tell she didn't resent me.

   After a bit I pulled her out a little and looked at her.  She looked
back steadily.  "So.  Still want to marry me?  Or is that too weird?  Too
creepy?" I asked.

   "I still want to marry you," she said.

   I felt like my heart would burst.  What a complete rush, to know that
this sweet, pretty, slender, sexy preteen girl was mine!  "Oh, Cindy,
you've made me the happiest man in the world!" It's funny how the cheesiest
lines sometimes are the truest.

   So we hugged some more, and I spent some time kissing and kissing her,
and caressing her little naked bottom.  Then I gave her a playful SMACK! 
and told her, "It's past your bedtime!  Tomorrow's our last day, so let's
get up early and make the most of it!" She grinned, pulled up her panties,
and scurried off to the bathroom.

   After another full day of rides, shows, and fun, we were back in our
room for our last night.  As we sat on the bed watching 'Sky High', I
pulled her up onto my lap again.  I held her, and after a while I let my
hand wander a bit.  She was all ready in her nightie, and it only came down
to her mid-thigh.  I caressed her leg, letting my fingers trail up her
thigh until I was under the hem of her nightie.  She didn't protest; in
fact she seemed to snuggle more firmly against me.

   I kept going, getting bolder.  I slid fully under her nightie, letting
my hand roam over her chest, touching each nipple, caressing, gently
squeezing, reveling in the feel of her preteen breastbuds.  She giggled a
bit as I did so; I guess it tickled.  Then I moved down, down her sweet
skinny belly, poking her briefly in her bellybutton as she giggled again. I
kept moving down, down to the hem of her panties, sliding my fingers just
inside.  I paused for a moment and whispered in her ear, "Are you OK?"

   After a long pause she nodded her head.  "Mm-hm," she murmured.

   "Remember, all you have to do is say 'stop' and I'll stop, OK?" She
nodded again.  Well, all righty then.  I moved further, caressing her mons
just above her vulva, pressing gently.  Then I was there, touching her
nether lips, tracing up and down, rolling her clitoris back and forth.  Her
thighs moved, jerking a bit as I touched her, but mostly parting, pushing
her hips forward against my hand.  It seemed she liked it.

   I pulled her up a bit more, then worked her panties off her.  She didn't
resist, and even helped kick them off.  Then I said, "Naughty little girls
have to be spanked!" and I turned her over my lap.  I spanked her and
spanked her, gently of course, it couldn't have caused anything more than a
very mild sting and probably not even that, turning her bottom a faint
pink. My rod stiffened against her belly.  I stopped spanking and began
caressing, rubbing and squeezing her soft buttocks cheeks, reveling in the
feel.  I let my fingers trail farther and farther in between them until I
was touching her cleft, pressing and softly rubbing.  She made little
noises, and her legs moved farther apart.

   I decided to get even bolder.  I turned her over on my lap, sliding her
nightie up to her armpits in the process.  Now a nearly naked preteen was
lying on her back over my lap, all her charms radically displayed: her
nipples erect atop mere buds, her flat belly, her unfledged cleft nestled
between her slim thighs, her clitoris poking out prominently.  "Naughty
girls have to be front-spanked!" I announced, and began spanking her full
upon her cleft, oh so gently at first, of course, mere taps, moving up and
down, interspersing with caresses and gentle pinches of her clitoris.  Then
getting a little firmer, spanking her enough to make a soft but audible
'SMACK', making her cleftlips jiggle a bit.  Her eyes half-closed and her
thighs moved apart, so I guess it wasn't too hard, eh?  I kept going,
caressing her clitoris more and more between spanks.  I paused for a moment
and moistened my fingers in my mouth, then resumed spanking and caressing,
tracing my fingers up and down her cleftlips, rubbing and gently pinching
her clitoris.  Meanwhile I let my other hand roam on her chest, kneading
and working her breastbuds and nipples lightly.  Her breathing became
heavier, she let off a stream of the most charming whimpers and whines,
until finally I was rewarded with one of the most fetching and stimulating
displays I have ever experienced: a slender, pretty little preteen was
orgasming on my lap as I spanked and caressed her vulva.

   After she had settled down to the occasional gasp and sigh, I slid my
hand up and just rested it on her mons.  With the other I caressed her
face, brushing the hair back on her forehead, then cupping her little
cheek. "Was that all right?" I inquired.

   She just nodded, with an almost awe-struck expression on her face.  I
pulled her up to me, hugging and hugging her, so happy that she had enjoyed
it, that I had been able to have so much fun and make her feel so good at
the same time.  Her little arms were around my neck as she hugged me back,
her light, still-rapid breathing tickling my neck as she nestled into me. I
just rocked her back and forth like that for a while.  She fell asleep, and
I laid her down on the bed and pulled the covers up.

   Then it was off to the bathroom for some much-needed relief!

   The next day we left the Polynesian.  After a short stay at a Holiday
Inn I found us a small rental house, with a swimming pool, and a nice
privacy fence.  During the days we hit some of the other highlights in
Orlando: Sea World, of course, and Universal Studios, as well as some of
the shows.  In the evenings after dinner out somewhere we'd be back at the
house.  I guess you could say that we did some 'heavy petting'; I fondled
and caressed her through and under her clothes, drinking in the exquisite
feel of her soft, smooth skin, loving the little sighs and whimpers she
made, then finally pulling her over my lap for a gentle spanking, often
succeeding in bringing her to orgasm as I lightly smacked her cleft and
clitoris.
Shortly after we moved in, while we were 'making out', I took her hand
and put it over my stiffening rod.  "Would you make me feel good, too?" I

asked her.

   "OK," she said, and started rubbing.  It felt good, but it was through
my shorts...

   "Unzip my pants, sweetheart, and take it out, OK?" She opened them, and
my member sprang out.  She pulled back just a little, startled.  "Go ahead
and touch it, honey, it won't hurt you." She reached out tentatively,
touching the tip with one finger, then, gaining confidence, pressing her
whole hand to it.  With some encouragement she was soon stroking me up and
down as I groaned with pleasure: a pretty little preteen girl was giving me
a handjob, what a rush!  I managed to warn her beforehand; considering all
the stimulation I'd had for the last week it was no surprise that it only
took half a minute or so for me to be spilling my seed onto the tissue I'd
snatched from the bedside stand.  She seemed fascinated by the whole
proceedings, and seemed not to be 'creeped out', thankfully.

   It took a few days of intensive 'Net searching, but I managed to find a
locality where officially a marriage between us could be done legally. 
Further research disclosed a lawyer who was willing to make the
arrangements for what probably seemed to him to be hefty fee; to me it was
a good chunk of change, but affordable; it didn't really make much of a
dent in my funds, cheap at the price, really.

   A few days of travel there and back, staying at a nice hotel in R*****,
a quick jaunt to the town where the lawyer had made the arrangements, all
fees paid, the ceremony complete, and we were back in the states, legally
married, at least in S**** A*****.  The officials of the good state of
Texas were in blissful ignorance, and would remain so until she was
seventeen.

   Back in our little house I sat down and put her in front of me.  I
started to undress her, button by button, peeling off the layers.  When she
was only in her panties I spent some time caressing her, running my hands
up and down her slender form, touching her cheeks, kissing her nose,
brushing the hair away from her forehead, reveling.

   Then I pulled her panties down.  Now she stood in front of me, a naked
preteen girl in front of a grown man.  She shivered a bit, although it was
quite warm.  I continued to caress her, soothing, calming her.

   "Now, little one, I think you've been very naughty, and I'm going to
give you a good spanking!" I announced.  I pulled her over my lap and
smacked her bottom again and again, loving the jiggle, the smack, the
little jumping in her hips and the little noises on her lips.  After a
while I slowed down, rubbing and caressing her bottom, running my fingers
between the cheeks to touch and press against her anus and cleftlips as she
whimpered.

   Then I pulled her up to stand in front of me.  "Naughty little girls
should be front-spanked, hmm?" I asked rhetorically.  Seizing her
well-spanked bottom in one hand, I commenced to rain smack after
open-handed smack full upon her unfledged cleftlips and clitoris, not too
hard, but enough to give her just a little sting with each one,
SMAK-SMAK-SMAK!

   "Ah!  Ah!  Ah!" she cried out charmingly, her little hips rocking.  Once
I had reddened her cleft just enough, I put some spit on my fingers and
fondled her fully, pressing, pinching, twisting, rubbing her clitoris,
occasionally spanking her again, her little pelvis thrusting back and
forth, until my sweet little preteen child-wife came in my hands,
stiffening with climax, crying out, pressing her little quim desperately
against the molesting hand, then falling into my arms.  I held her, rocking
her gently as she sobbed out the last of her 'punishment-'gasm'.

   I held her for a while that way.  I think she even dozed a bit.  Finally
I put her back on the floor in front of me.  "We're not going to 'have sex'
all the way, not just yet; we'll have to kind of get ready for that a bit
at a time, OK?" She nodded, perhaps with a bit of a relieved look in her
eyes.  "But there's something I'd really like to do, something that won't
hurt you at all.  You might think it's a little bit 'yucky', but it's
something many married people do.  I'm going to put my 'thing' in your
mouth." She made a little face at that, but didn't object.  "Don't worry, I
keep really clean, and I'm not going to pee!  Something's going to come out
of me when I'm done, but it's not pee." She looked even more relieved.  "I
want you to try to swallow it, OK?  Many girls do." She looked a little
surprised, even astonished, but didn't resist as I put her on her knees in
front of me.

   I took my member out.  Naturally I was pointing skyward.  She looked at
it, appearing mesmerized, like a baby bird looking at a snake.  "Now put it
in your mouth and suck on it, sweetheart, but don't use your teeth, OK?"

   She opened wide, eyes half-closed, and I slid into her.  Now a pretty
little naked preteen girl was on her knees in front of me, my rod in her
mouth.  What a complete rush.  I was working it in and out, not too far, I
didn't want to gag her, but needless to say stimulation had been pretty
intense lately, and it took no time at all before I was emptying myself in
her.  She spluttered a bit at the rush of hot liquid, trying to swallow it,
making a bit of a face at the taste, but not turning away.  Some of my seed
spilled out her mouth and ran down onto her chest.

   I swept her up into my arms, laughing, hugging her, kissing her mouth,
heedless of the traces of my seed on her lips.  "You are so beautiful, so
sweet, so sexy, I can't believe it!" She nestled into my arms, clearly
content.

   As the days went by I enjoyed her little body so much, kissing her,
caressing her, stripping her, spanking her, usually succeeding in bringing
her to orgasm, then relieving myself in her mouth.

   After a week or so I moved things forward a bit.  There was a thick post
in the basement of the house; I used soft cloth 'straps' to tie her
face-forwards naked to it, showing her how she could get loose easily if
she wanted to, her 'bonds' only for show.  Her little bare bottom quivered
as I approached her with a riding crop.  I whipped her gently up and down
her bare thighs, then onto her buttocks, leaving faint red marks as she
cried out softly.  Then I refastened her facing outwards, her little arms
outstretched behind her around the pole, her ankles spread apart and
fastened to a spreader I'd fashioned.  Then I brought the crop down across
her chest, snapping the strap-end against first one nipple and breastbud,
then the other, hearing the soft SMACK!, seeing the faint redness spring
up, hearing her soft cries.  I paused to caress and soothe her, whispering
in her ear how much I loved her, giving and receiving sweet kisses.  Then
the crop snapped across the front of her thighs, SWAK-SWAK-SWAK!  as she
moaned and shivered.  Finally I brought it up gently yet sharply between
her slender legs, full upon her unfledgled cleftlips and clitoris, whipping
her on her underdeveloped sex again and again as she yelped and yipped. 
Then I loosed her, sweeping her up into my arms, caressing and kissing her
as I carried her to bed.

   In our room I nearly tossed her onto the mattress, then unceremoniously
fastened my mouth onto her little quim.  I had not done this before, and
she went nearly rigid as my tongue rasped over her punished cleftlips and
clitoris, then cried out as I pushed hard against her virginity.  I took
her turgid clitoris in a long bite between tongue and teeth as she moaned
louder and louder, then finally came and came, her hips rocking and
bucking.

   After her shudderings and sobbings had finally subsided I stripped and
lay next to her, cuddling and caressing her.  I lay on my back and pulled
her on top of me, a slender naked preteen lying down on a grown man, my
erection poking into her side.  I shifted her until her moist cleft was
straddling my rod, and began to slide her up and down as she whimpered a
bit at the sensation.  It didn't take long until I was spilling my seed
between us as I groaned and held her tight.  Afterwards we swam in the pool
to rinse off, playing and splashing, she seeming to be just like any other
happy preteen girl going swimming with her 'daddy'.  Except for being
naked, of course...

   I had a set of anal dilators shipped to the house.  I began using them
on her, well-lubricated of course.  After she'd gone to the bathroom I
gently but firmly worked the first one into her pretty little anus, as she
clenched around it, trembling and whimpering a bit.  Then I fastened it in
place with a little chain that stretched around her waist so it would stay
in her until she had to go to the bathroom again the next day.  When I
removed it I pulled it out quickly, so that she cried out a bit.  After
she'd finished in the bathroom I put the next one in, twisting it a bit,
working it back and forth, finally seating it firmly inside her.  While I
did so I held her unfledged cleftlips in my hand, squeezing and caressing
them.  I loved the little sounds she made, not quite protesting, not really
pained, but obviously being...stimulated by the violation of her anus and
the molestation of her underdeveloped sex.  After it was all the way in and
fastened, I gave her a quick spanking, first on her bottom, making sure to
spank firmly but gently against the plug so that she cried out a bit, then
a quick flurry of sharp but not too hard smacks on her cleftlips and
clitoris.  Then I tossed her on the bed and fastened my mouth on her nether
lips, quickly driving her to a noisy, joyous orgasm.

   After two weeks and five dilators (the last one just a bit thicker than
the average 12-year-old boy's erection) I judged her to be sufficiently
dilated.  By that time she had become so accustomed to my usual behavior,
and seemed to be enjoying it enough, that she would pretend to be
impertinent or disobedient in some way, then wiggle her bottom at me,
inviting me to spank her, which I found quite charming and...stimulating!
So when she had stuck her tongue out at me, an impish grin on her face, I
swept her up in my arms and kissed her soundly, then whispered in her ear,
"You are such a naughty little girl, aren't you?" She nodded, her face
buried in my neck, her sweet breath tickling.  "Then I'm just going to have
to punish you, aren't I?"

   I carried her into the bedroom, stripped her naked, then spent some time
just caressing her sweet, slender little body, enjoying the feel of her
nipples and breastbuds as I kneaded and worked them, then sliding down to
seize her buttocks and unfledged cleft, pinching and twisting, squeezing
and hefting, as she whimpered and shivered.

   I spanked her briskly on her bottom, SMAK-SMAK-SMAK!  as she trembled
and moaned, and the faint redness covered her cheeks.  Then WHAP-WHAP-WHAP!
went my hand against her mons, cleftlips, and clitoris, front-spanking her
again and again as she yelped.

   I had gotten a piece of nylon rope, just smooth and just rough enough. I
passed it between her slender thighs, then pulled it taut against her anus
and cleft, lifting her onto her toes.  I pulled it back and forth, back and
forth, as she whined at the roughness rubbing against her so sternly. 
Finally I tossed it aside and picked her up again, rocking and cuddling
her, humming a song in her ear as she melted against me.

   I carried her to the toilet and put her on it.  "Can you go number 2
right now, Cindy?" She nodded.  "Then go ahead, and wash your hands and let
me know when you're done, OK?" I closed the door.

   In a couple of minutes she called to me and I opened the door.  "You
done?" I asked.  She nodded.  "OK, then, now we're going to do something a
little different.  We need to get you really cleaned out." I had picked up
some enema equipment.  I'm not 'big' into enemas, but the thought of giving
my cute naked little preteen girl some 'punishment'-enemas all ready had me
hard as a rock.

   I lubricated the nozzle and put it at her anus.  She clenched and
squealed a bit.  "Just try to relax and let it in, baby," I whispered to
her, "It shouldn't hurt bad." She settled down and I pushed it inside her
as she shivered.

   Like I said, I'm not really into enemas, so I had no intention of
putting a lot into her, making her hold it forever, and so forth.  I just
wanted to clean her out.  So I let her expel it almost as soon as it was in
her, then gave her two more.  The first one was a cleansing solution.  The
second had some antiseptic solution in it.  The third was mainly a last
rinse with some kind of sweet-smelling scent to it.  I wiped her clean and
kissed her gently, then put her in the shower and rinsed her off, and
toweled her dry.

   I spent some time holding and caressing her, sometimes pulling her
across my lap for a bit more spanking, even holding her buttocks apart and
spanking her directly on her anus, which made her moan and clench
fetchingly, then standing her up and front-spanking her, pinching and
twisting her nipples, and so forth.  Finally I laid her on the bed and took
her cleftlips in my mouth, kissing and sucking, nibbling and
tongue-probing, until she came, bucking and squealing.  Then I pulled my
briefs off, sat on the bed, and stood her before me facing away.

   I had bought a tube of lubricant with us, and now I squirted some on the
end of my rod, then pulled her up onto my lap, put her anus over the end of
my member, and pushed down, with some force, impaling her on my rampant
manhood, violating her deeply.  She cried out once, loudly, then trembled
and sobbed a bit in my arms as I held her and caressed her, reaching around
in front to toy with her clitoris.  Now I was buried deep in the warm
rectum of my sweet little preteen girl, feeling her trembling, slender body
against mine, sensing her sphincter, still tight even after being dilated,
clenching and spasming on my rod, hearing her little gasps and moans,
loving her and enjoying the moment so much I thought I'd pass out.

   In a few seconds she had quieted down some, and I whispered in her ear,
"Are you OK?" She gulped and nodded.  "Do you want me to stop?" By now she
was responding some to her clitoris being touched, her pelvis rocking a
bit.

   "Uh-uh," she murmured.

   "You're such a naughty little girl, aren't you?" I said, but kissed her
ear right after, and then started thrusting into her, picking her hips up
and dropping her back down, driving into her as she cried out hoarsely with
each stroke.  Of course it took next to no time at all before I was
emptying myself deep within her rectum, groaning out a top-notch orgasm,
hugging and kissing her, loving her completely.

   Then it was back in the pool for a much-needed rinse-off!

   As the next few weeks went by I had such pleasure in my little preteen
runaway child-wife.  Eventually I took her maidenhead.  Oh, I know in the
stories it's all 'thrust for the cervix with one stroke, raping her of her
virginity as she screamed one short scream', and such; no way I was going
to do that to her!  We worked at it a little at a time; I don't really know
when I finally was through her hymen all the way; it probably took a week
or two.  She grunted a bit, and I know it was uncomfortable at times, but
she was a trooper, and I made sure she had plenty of 'punishment-'gasms' as
we went along, and by the time she had been with me for six months I was
regularly bumping up against her cervix as she moaned underneath me, her
little vagina tight as a glove on my rod as I 'raped' her, piercing her
unfledged cleftlips and rubbing against her clitoris with each thrust.

   We drove the truck together for a few years.  She'd putter around in the
sleeper, fix food, play, work on the homeschool materials I got her.  We'd
either pull into a stop for the night and use the bunk in the sleeper, or
get a motel room.  And I raised her, and spanked her, and 'raped' her again
and again; and then we had kids, and we raised them, and then we even had
grandkids.  And she kept herself slim, and bare, and always played the
'little girl getting disciplined' with me, and gave me great pleasure, and
received plenty of 'punishment-'gasms', for as long as we both lived, which
was happily ever after!

   The End

   By cc
   All comments deliriously welcomed!  ccccc12345@lavabit.com