Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Carl saw her on the side of the road.  It was just after dusk, a faint glow
to the west all that was left of the setting sun.  She was hitchhiking,
like many another little fool.  He couldn't tell for sure, but she looked
not much more than fourteen.  He took a quick glance at her: heavy
eye-shadow, hair dyed black, multiple piercings in her ears and one on an
eyebrow, a sullen look; all too typical for even a young teenager these
days.

   He wanted to get home, and, although he didn't like to think of her out
on the road at night that way, from her looks he doubted that she'd be
decently grateful for any kindness, so he drove on.  Just over the hill he
thought better of it; he just couldn't let her stay out there.  If he heard
of anything happening to her he would be feeling real bad, he knew.  So he
turned around at a break in the median and headed back.

   As he passed her he noticed another car had pulled up.  He saw someone
leaning out of the passenger window talking to her.  As he kept going to
the next turn around he looked back in the rear-view mirror.  Now someone
was standing next to her.  She was backing away, and he was grabbing her.
Carl accelerated.  Just over another hill was another turnaround.  He took
it, and killed his lights.

   He pulled up ten or twenty yards away from them.  Two men had her now,
and she was struggling.  As he got out of the car he could hear her muffled
screams; one of them had a hand over her mouth as they pulled her towards
their vehicle.  Carl kept a Mossberg in a rack mounted on the driver's side
next to the door.  He lifted it out and racked it as he approached the
scene.

   They paused, startled at the sound.  "Let her go!" Carl snarled, the
shotgun pointing vaguely in their direction; he didn't want to chance the
girl getting hit.  He hoped the scum would be too freaked to think about
using her as a shield, and indeed that's how it worked out: they dropped
her like a hot potato, hopped in their beat-up sedan and roared off.

   He lowered his weapon and strode over to the girl.  She was trembling,
staring at their car as they drove off, then looking at him, backing away a
bit.  "Don't be afraid," Carl said, "I'm not going to do anything to you.
Are you hurt?"

   She stared for a moment, then replied, "N-no, no, I'm OK." She seemed a
bit dazed; Carl wasn't surprised.

   "Do you want me to take you somewhere?  Or call the police?  You
shouldn't be out here this late by yourself.  I'd be glad to take you
home..." He waited as she collected herself.

   As she did he could almost see the sullen façade drop back into place.
"I ain't goin' home, Mister.  If I liked it there I woulda stayed there. 
Where you goin'?" she inquired.

   "I'm headed home, I live in the next county.  Is there someplace I can
take you?  I really don't want to just leave you here," he replied.

   "I guess you can take me down the road some," she answered.  "You ain't
some kinda creep-job, are you?"

   "I don't think so.  Just an average guy, I guess," Carl replied. 
"You'll just have to decide if you're going to take a chance and go with
me."

   He waited for a moment.  With a grimace and a shrug she just started
walking to his car without reply.  He looked as she went, shook his head,
and followed after.

   After they were on the road for a minute or two, he asked, "Where do you
live?"

   "Why?  You ain't gonna try to take me back there, are you?" she asked,
still sullen.

   "I'm not going to take you anywhere you don't want to go.  But a girl
your age should be home, with her family.  Why did you leave?"

   Silence for a moment or two.  Then, "My mom's a dopehead.  She's got
this boyfriend who's a total creep.  He wanted to get in my pants but I
wouldn't let him, so he started raggin' on me to my mom, and they were
yellin' at me and stuff, and I just left.  Creeps." Sullen, sullen, sullen.

   He waited another minute or two.  Then: "Do you want me to take you to
the police?  They'd find somewhere decent for you to stay."

   "Are you nuts?  I ain't goin' to the police.  They'd put me in juvie, or
some foster home or somethin'.  Or they'd make me go back home."

   "You have to live somewhere.  Where were you going?  Do you have any
other family, or some good friend, or anywhere to go?"

   "I dunno.  I was just goin', OK?"

   Silence for a bit.  Then: "How far do you want me to take you tonight,
then?  I really don't like the idea of just dropping you off on the road
somewhere," Carl said.

   Silence again.  Then she replied, "Yeah.  I guess you're right.  Can I
crash at your place?"

   Carl sighed.  "What's your name?" he asked.

   "Amber.  What's yours?"

   "Carl.  Carl Henderson.  Look, here's the thing: you gotta be, what,
fifteen?"

   She looked away for a moment, then mumbled, "Fourteen."

   "So if I don't take you to the police, and anyone finds out about you
staying one minute longer with me than you have to to get to the police or
back home, I'm in trouble.  Do you understand what I'm saying?"

   "Yeah, I understand.  They'd think you were like hitting on me or
something.  But I won't tell anyone.  C'mon, Carl, just for one night,
huh?" She managed to look a bit less sullen, more like a child, as she
pleaded.

   Carl relented.  "All right.  But you tell anyone and I'll swear I never
even saw you.  One night.  We'll figure out what to do in the morning."

   Carl had a nice house.  He was single, in his 30's, warily looking for a
wife but wanting to be careful; he had seen friends `marry in haste and
repent at leisure'.  He was doing well enough for himself with computer
consulting and inherited money.

   Amber's eyes widened a bit as they walked through the door.  She wasn't
used to a nice house, a big TV, comfortable-looking furniture that wasn't
ragged and worn.

   He showed her a room to sleep in, the bathroom, got towels and sheets
for her, made her a sandwich.  After she ate it she yawned, and he said,
"Why don't you get some sleep.  We'll talk in the morning." She nodded and
headed for the bathroom, then went to bed.  After he was pretty sure she
was asleep he did the same.

   In the morning he made her some breakfast.  Then he sat down with her in
the living room.  "So what're we going to do, Amber?  Shall I take you
home?" She shook her head violently.  "How about the police then?" She
shook her head again.  "What am I supposed to do with you, then?  It just
wouldn't be right to send you back out on the road.  Look what almost
happened to you!"

   She just sat for a minute, then said, "I know it's like a lot to ask and
everything, but can't I stay here with you?  I won't tell anyone, and I
won't do nothing wrong or break your stuff.  Please, Carl, please?" Again
she looked more like a child and less like a sullen teenager as she begged
almost prettily.

   Carl thought furiously.  It was a risk, but..."All right.  For now.  Any
time you want I'll take you home or to the police.  After a week or so
we'll see.  All right?"

   "Yeah, that's fine, thanks Carl, really!" Again she didn't seem quite as
sullen.

   Carl let things ride for a few days, let her get used to the household,
let him get used to her.  He took her shopping for a few clothes, and to
get some extra groceries; having a teenager in the house definitely
increased food consumption!

   There were a few things he `took issue' with.  She had a bit of a foul
mouth, she still had the `sullen' attitude, and Carl never did like the
pierced/Goth look.  By the time she'd been there a week or so, he figured
she'd settled in sufficiently.  "We need to talk," he announced one
evening, sitting down with her in the living room.

   "First of all, let me ask you: do you still want to stay here?" he
inquired.

   She nodded her head, perhaps a bit warily.

   "You're sure?  Nowhere else you'd rather be?  No place you want me to
take you to?  You know I will if you want..."

   "No, Carl, like I said, I don't want to go home and I don't want to go
to the police or juvie or anybody, OK?" she said, again a bit sullenly.

   "Just making sure.  All right, I've been thinking it over.  I've decided
what I want to do.  If you don't like it, no problem, if I have to I'll
drive downtown and drop you off a block from the police station.  That way
I'll know that you'll be safe if you want to be safe, anyway.

   "This is my house, my life.  I've got things pretty well set.  There's
things I like and things I don't like.  Plus there's things I think should
go a certain way and things I think aren't right.  So if you stay with me
there's going to have to be some changes made, changes in you.  I'm not
going to be your buddy.  In some ways I'm going to act like your father. 
I'll take care of you, make sure you get good food, clothes, all that. 
Maybe I'll send you to college someday if it looks like a good idea.  But
you're going to have to do what I say when I say it.  You understand so
far?" She nodded.  "You want to hear the rest of what I say, or do you want
to say `forget it' and leave now?"

   "I-I want to hear the rest.  I don't want to leave," she replied, almost
timidly.

   "OK, then.  You're going to have to lose the `goth' look.  The piercings
have got to go, the black hair, the attitude.  If you stay here you have to
look and act normal.  You have to be polite.  I'm not `Carl', I'm `Mr. 
Henderson' or `Sir' to a girl your age.

   "You will have duties around the house and you will have to obey them.
You will have to do schoolwork of some kind.  You can go to school if you
want to, or you can be homeschooled, there's plenty of good curricula to
choose from.  You will go to church and you will be active in the youth
group.  Do you understand all this so far?" Amber gulped and nodded.  "You
still want to hear the rest?"

   "Th-there's more?" she asked.

   "There's more, `what'?" Carl intoned.

   She looked puzzled for a moment, then: "Oh.  There's more, Mr. 
Henderson?  Sir?" She even smiled a bit.

   "Hm.  Yes, more.  You can call me a creep and storm out of here if you
want, though I hope you'd let me drive you downtown like I said so you'd be
safe, but here it is: if you stay here, I'm going to discipline you.  It's
clear to me that you need it.  You're going to be spanked and you're going
to be whipped.  I'm absolutely not going to damage you in any way.  I'm not
going to leave any big marks or anything like that.  But you will be
punished.  You'll be punished when you don't do what you're supposed to do,
and I will punish you regularly to remind you to behave.

   "So there it is.  Make up your mind, stay or go." Carl waited.

   Amber had been watching him with mouth agape since he had mentioned
`spanking'.  She closed it now almost with a snap, then opened it as if she
was going to say something...then closed it again.  She looked down, up,
down...then looked up at Carl and quietly said, "I-I would like to stay
with you, Sir."

   "Very well, young lady.  Stand up." She slowly stood.  "You've been
sullen, you use foul language, your hair is a sight, and those piercings
are outrageous.  You've run away from home and caused me...inconvenience.
Take your clothes off."

   She gaped for a moment, and said, "All ready?!  And why do I have to
take my clothes off?!  You just want to-to..."

   Carl cut her off.  "Be quiet!  I didn't say anything about having sex
with you, did I?  Well, did I?" She slowly shook her head.  "I can't hear
you, young lady!"

   "N-no, Sir, you didn't," she said, somewhat more meekly.

   "I didn't what?" He was going to make her say it.

   "You didn't say you were going to have s-sex with me.  Sir," she
remembered to add.

   "That's right, I didn't.  I'm not saying we never will, who knows what
will happen.  But you'll have plenty of time to say `no' if it comes to
that.  You can say `no' now, and I'll drive you downtown and drop you off.
Otherwise, everything off!" He waited.

   She slowly began to undress.  She slipped her shoes off, took her belt
off, took her socks off.  She paused for a moment.  He just waited.  She
looked down, getting red in the face.  She undid her blouse, button by
button, then slipped it off.  Now she was in what was not much bigger than
a training bra; she was not particularly `well-developed' above the waist.
She undid the button of her jeans, pulled them down and stepped out of
them. Now in bra and lacy panties he had a good look at her shape.  Quite
attractive, Carl mused to himself, getting a little hard in his pants at
the sight.

   She looked up, but he was outwardly implacable.  With a little sigh she
reached around and undid her bra, slowly shucking it, then hooked her
thumbs in her panties and slid them down, kicked them off.

   Now she was nude, a slender young teen naked in front of a grown man. 
Before she could think to try to cover herself, he barked, "Hands at your
sides, young lady!" She complied.  Her little breasts were heaving atop her
chest, nipples erect.  Between her legs her cleft could be easily seen,
covered only by a thin growth of light brown hair.  Even her clitoris was
clearly visible.  She was whimpering, only barely audibly.

   Carl unbuckled his belt and slowly slid it off as her eyes widened, then
clenched almost shut, her little face screwed up as she tensed, awaiting
the first blow.

   [SMACK!] Carl swung the belt, doubled up, across her trim buttocks,
leaving a clear but faint red mark.  "MM!" she expressed, her mouth closed.
He gave her ten strokes across her bottom.  None were hard enough to make
her cry out loud, and they left no more than a faint redness.

   When he was done he stood before her, tipped her chin up to look at her
face.  "Are you all right?" Surprised by the tender concern in his voice,
she looked up at him, little tears in her eyes.  She nodded.  He pulled her
against him in a hug.  She hesitated for a moment, resisting slightly, then
relaxed into him.  He hummed a little tune, and slid his hand down, gently
rubbing her bottom as she almost sighed.  Of course she couldn't completely
help but perceive the hard protrusion in his pants...

   After a few moments he sent her to her room.  "Get those piercings out,
and the black eyeliner, young lady.  When you come out I want you looking
like a normal girl." She complied, returning in a half hour, her hair
brushed out, the piercings gone, her face washed.  She was wearing one of
the sundresses he had bought her, which so far she had declined to try on.
"Very good.  Now you look more normal.  I guess your hair will just have to
grow out..."

   He gave her the choice, and she decided she wanted to homeschool, so he
got her materials.  He assigned her chores, mostly keeping her room clean,
doing the dishes.  He took her to church.

   Habits are hard to break.  She didn't try to get any more piercings, and
she dressed neatly, but a few days after her first spanking she was having
trouble with her math.  She flung her pencil down, and exclaimed, "****
this!"

   Carl was in the next room.  He came out and stood over her.  "Having
problems, young lady?"

   She acted as if she hadn't said anything...wrong.  "Yeah, I mean `yes
Sir', I can't get this algebra problem to come out right!" Carl worked with
her, like any father would with his daughter, until she understood it and
could work the problem.

   "Come in to my study when you're done with your schoolwork, Amber," he
just said, and left the room.

   By the time she was done, and went to his room, she had almost
forgotten. He was sitting in one of his office chairs, a swivel `secretary'
model without arms.  "I told you before, young lady, I will not tolerate
foul language.  Come over here," he commanded.  As she came to his side he
tipped her over his lap, ignoring her `hey!' and fluttering hands.  He
tossed up her dress, pulled her panties down, and commenced to give her a
brisk, business-like spanking, [SMACK-SMACK-SMACK-SMACK!].

   She was startled, and unprepared, so `closed-mouth' noises were not the
order of the day.  "Oh!  Oh!  Oh!" she cried out as he spanked her and
spanked her.  After about twenty smacks he stopped.  "Are you going to
watch your mouth?" he inquired, punctuating with another SMACK!

   "Oh!  Y-yes!  Yes, Sir, I will!" she whimpered.

   "Very good." He rested his hand on her bottom and rubbed gently,
soothing her.  Something like a sigh escaped her lips...

   He found occasion to spank her twice more in the next few days.  One
time he just tossed the hem of her skirt up, bent her over, and swatted her
with a wooden spoon on her bare bottom a few times for `cussing' when she
spilled a glass in the kitchen.  Another time he just gave her a few swats
with his bare hand on her bare thighs for forgetting to say `Sir' when she
spoke to him.

   On Friday evening he called her to his study.  "From now on you will
have your regularly scheduled punishment on Fridays.  We will call this
`maintenance discipline'.  Take all your clothes off," he commanded.  She
hung her head and slowly complied.

   When she was naked before him he picked up a riding crop that he had
obtained a few days before.  She trembled at the site of it and looked
down. "For maintenance discipline you will be punished on...many places. 
It will be embarrassing, and that's part of the discipline." She seemed to
tremble more, and little tears started in her eyes, a little whimper to her
lips.  He leaned close to her and cupped her chin.  "Amber, look at me."
She looked up.  "Nobody likes being punished, but has it been as bad as you
thought it would be, as bad as it could be?" She slowly shook her head.  "I
said we're not going to have sex, not yet anyway.  But I didn't say that I
wouldn't enjoy punishing you.  You know I do, don't you?" She looked down
and nodded slightly.  "That's because you're a very pretty young lady, at
least you are without all that `goth' idiocy," he intoned.  She actually
smiled a small smile at that.

   He stepped back and commanded, "Hands clasped behind your neck, young
lady!" She stared for a moment, and he swung the crop against the front of
her thighs, [SWAP!], saying, "Right now!" She yelped and complied, breasts
heaving, nipples erect.

   He strode around her, smacking the crop in his palms idly.  Then
[WHAP-WHAP-WHAP!] he whipped her briskly on her bare buttocks as she cried
out softly, red streaks starting faintly where the crop had fallen.  He
continued on her thighs, swinging the crop back and forth first on the
backs, then the fronts.  He paused for a moment, gently rubbing where he
had disciplined her.

   He stepped back and brought the crop down sharply but not too hard
across her young-teen breasts, [SWAP-SWAP-SWAP!] "AAAAH!" she cried out,
and "AA-AA-AA-AAAH!" as he continued to discipline her so intimately and
embarrassingly.

   Then, "Spread your legs," he commanded.  Again she just gaped at him, so
[WHAP!] he brought the crop down across her breasts once more, saying,
"Right now, young lady!" She cried out and obeyed, baring her cleft more
fully to him.  He brought the crop up, again sharply but not too hard,
whipping her repeatedly on her tender mons and vulva, [SMACK-SMACK-SMACK!]
as she nearly wailed, deeply embarrassed to be disciplined on so intimate a
place, so exposed to a grown man.

   After a few such strokes he tossed the crop aside.  He gently caressed
her, rubbing his hands on her bottom, her thighs, then her breasts.  Then
he slid down, cupping her cleft, tracing along the faintly reddened lips,
tenderly rolling her clitoris back and forth.  She began to moan and her
hips rocked.  He held her there more firmly, kneading and working her,
squeezing her buttocks as he did so, pleasuring her insistently until he
was rewarded as she orgasmed in his hands, nearly collapsing against him.

   After she had subsided he kissed her forehead and sent her from the room
with an almost playful SMACK to her bottom, saying, "There, young lady, I
hope you've learned your lesson!" She scooped up her dress and scurried
from the room, but paused at the door to look back with a small, shy smile.

   The weeks went by.  Carl continued to discipline her, spanking her
bottom, whipping her thighs, sometimes naked, sometimes just tossing her
skirt up.  On Fridays he continued to give her `maintenance discipline',
stripping her naked, whipping her embarrassingly and intimately, buttocks,
thighs, breasts, cleft, sometimes even holding her buttocks apart and
smacking her directly on her anus as she yelped.  Sometimes he would lay
her on the bed, sometimes standing.  Often he succeeded in bringing her to
orgasm afterward.  One Friday, as he caressed her cleft after her whipping,
he leaned over and began to kiss her, first on her thighs, then her lower
abdomen, then down to her cleft, tonguing her, sucking her.  She had never
imagined anything so pleasurable.  She nearly shrieked, pressing herself
against him, her hands fluttering in his hair, as she shouted out her
orgasm.

   As the time had gone by she had become more physically affectionate. 
When they sat on the couch watching TV, she would often lean against him.
He put his arm around her shoulders and she would lay her head on his
chest. She would put her face up for a goodnight kiss in the evenings and
he did not refuse her.

   He bought her gifts, a cellphone, a laptop, an I-Pod.  She delighted in
them, thanking him and throwing her arms around him.

   He had not made any sexual demands on her, except for the sexualized
discipline he delivered on Fridays.  Naturally he was feeling
some...pressure.  He relieved himself frequently, but clearly he wasn't
going to let things to continue this way indefinitely.

   On an evening as he sat with her he asked, "So.  Are you happy you
decided to stay with me?" She looked at him and nodded vigorously.  "Even
though I punish you?" She looked down, then up, and nodded again, her face
solemn.  "That's good, because I'm glad you stayed, too, I really am." She
looked happy at that.  "Have you figured out yet that I really like you? 
In fact, I love you.  I want you to be happy.  Do you know that?"

   She giggled a bit and said, "Yeah, I mean yes, Sir, I know that.  I-I
love you, too!" Here she leaned in and kissed him briefly on the lips, then
put her head down on his chest.  He stroked her hair, enjoying the moment.

   "Then I have a very important question to ask.  Amber, will you marry
me?" She looked up, an almost awestruck expression on her face.

   "D-do you mean it?  You want to marry me?  I thought you just wanted
to..."

   "Young lady, I thought you knew me better than that!" and here he gave
her a quick, almost playful SMACK on her bare thigh as she jumped and
yipped.  "We're not going to do much of anything more than we all ready
have until and unless we're married, understand?  So, will you?" He waited,
almost breathlessly.

   She stared at him for a long moment, then whispered, "Yes.  Yes, Sir. 
I'll marry you!"

   He swept her in his arms for a long hug, saying, "I love you," over and
over.

   He did a little research and found a country where, with a little
`inducement' to the proper officials, he could marry her legally.  It would
not be for a few more weeks, however.  In the meantime he continued to
punish her at intervals, but now he was more openly sexual with each
episode, caressing her, often spanking her directly on her sex.

   On the next Friday, after she had shed her clothes, he startled her by
undressing as well.  He was all ready erect, and she stared at his rod,
mesmerized.  He proceeded with her discipline, punishing her gently,
insistently, intimately, lovingly, often pressing his manhood against her
cool flesh.  After he had brought her to orgasm he lay next to her and
pulled her on top of him.  He positioned her cleft so that it straddled his
rod but without penetration, and slid her moistened vulva up and down
against the shaft until he groaned and spurted between them, kissing her,
hugging her, rejoicing in her.

   Soon they were traveling to ***** where Carl had hired a local lawyer to
facilitate the arrangements.  An overnight stay at a hotel, a short drive
to a nearby town, a brief ceremony, and they were married.

   Then they were back home.  He carried her over the threshold, she
clinging tightly to him.  He sent her to the bathroom with a swat to her
bottom.  When she came out he picked her up and carried her to bed.

   He slowly undressed her, piece by piece, until she was naked.  He ran
his hands up and down her, squeezing her small, high breasts, kneading and
working them, gently pinching and twisting her nipples.  Then sliding down
her belly, pausing to tickle her bellybutton as she giggled.  Then running
his hands down to her cleft, unceremoniously seizing the core of her being,
probing to her hymen as she cried out.  Carl whispered in her ear, "You're
such a naughty little girl, aren't you, Amber?" and gave her a brisk
front-spanking, her eyes, which had been closed from embarrassment and
passion popping open in surprise.  SMAK-SMAK-SMAK!  went his hand upon her
vulva and clitoris, the tips of his fingers trailing onto her anus.  She
cried out and writhed responsively.  He continued to pinch and twist her
nipples with one hand, while with the other he variously kneaded and worked
her cleftlips and clitoris, probed her to her hymen, and spanked her again
and again.

   Soon he brought her to an orgasm that was impressive and noisy.  He
waited til she was just past her peak.  Then he pulled his rod out of his
pants, positioned himself between her thighs, and thrust firmly into her,
`raping' her of her maidenhead with one stroke.  She squealed and clutched
at him, shivering violently for a few moments.  Then she settled back on
the bed.  He stroked her cheek and she smiled a shaky little smile at him.
"That's my girl," he said, and proceeded to piston in and out of her with
some moderate force, feeling her tense a bit with each thrust, driving for
her cervix as she moaned rhythmically.

   She didn't come again, and Carl couldn't tell how much of the
lubrication he felt was from continued stimulation, or her virginal blood.
But she began to move under him in rhythm towards the end, which did not
take long.  In just a few minutes he was groaning and shooting his seed
inside her, then collapsing onto the bed next to her, kissing her, nuzzling
her neck, stroking her hair.  She seemed to both chuckle and sob at the
same time, and clung to him tightly, still trembling but subsiding.

   And Carl and his sweet hitchhiker lived happily after!

   The End

   By cc

   All comments deliriously welcomed!

   ccccc12345@lavabit.com