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Subject: {ASSM} An Antebellum Boy and His Girl (ped bdsm spank whip M/g *rape* historical)
Date: Tue,  5 Feb 2002 23:10:12 -0500
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ASSTR: here is a story for repost. It's heading might be:
ped bdsm spank whip M/g "rape" historical 

 
An Antebellum Boy and His Girl 

Crack! "AAAAH!" screamed the teenage slavegirl as the whip seized
her buttocks. The overseer brought his arm back and then down
again, lashing her between her legs, the end of the whip snapping
directly onto her barely fledged cleft. "AAAAIIIII!" she
screamed, and screamed and sobbed repeatedly as he continued to
whip her again and again. Her dark skin gleamed with perspiration
in the torchlight. 

The other slaves watched closely. The older men grinned and poked
each others' sides. The older women nodded grimly. Some of the
younger women licked their lips nervously, remembering all too
well what the young teen was experiencing. Old Uncle and Auntie
simply watched with satisfaction. 

The overseer had formed a mutually advantageous relationship with
the slaves. The owner of the plantation was ill, and often away
from home. His only son was not yet old enough to assume control,
so he left all the details of management to the overseer. The
latter treated them very fairly, made sure they were well fed and
clothed. He never separated families or sold anyone "down the
river".  And he made sure to "pay court" to the senior slaves,
Old Uncle and Auntie. It was through interaction with them that
he developed a curious and very satisfying habit. 

Old Uncle and Auntie were great believers in discipline,
particularly for young girls. If one of the young girlslaves
"sassed" an elder, or shirked work, they made sure that the
unfortunate wench was brought to the overseer. He in turn
provided the discipline. He was careful to punish the girls just
enough, no more; he left reddened areas on their buttocks,
breasts, and clefts that faded slowly, but no lasting marks.
Occasionally his victims were known to achieve orgasm from his
ministrations. And a steady string of them found their way into
his bed for even more strict, intimate punishment. 

The boy watched from the outskirts. He was fascinated. He did not
yet understand his own desires, he just knew that the sight of
the young teen girl being punished was one of the most attractive
he had ever seen. He had recently begun masturbating, and he
found his hand stroking himself through his pants as the girl
moaned and cried out. The boy was the son of the owner of the
plantation. This was the first time the lad had seen the overseer
whip a young girl. He had been out late, walking, and chanced
upon the affair. After the scene was over, the young man returned
to the mansion. He slipped up to his room, undressed, and jumped
into bed. He masturbated fervently, replaying the whipping of the
girl in his mind, imagining himself punishing her, and raping
her. 

Most of the time the boy was on his own, his father being away a
lot, or too busy or too ill to spend time with him, and his
mother having died when he was young. He found himself fascinated
by buildings, especially bridges and dams. As a young boy, he
spent many hours at the creek making elaborate structures that
temporarily diverted the stream, until finally the flow ate into
them and sent them tumbling. Now that he was 17, he turned his
attention to the woods and pastures of the plantation. He planned
various useful structures, and set out to build them, testing his
methods carefully. He worked hard, sawing logs, hauling timber,
drilling and nailing with the primitive tools available at the
time.The overseer remarked on this, and asked him, "Why don't you
get some of the slaves to help you? Let them do the hard work!"
The lad just mumbled something about wanting to be alone, and
stole off. The overseer watched him go, musing. In truth, the boy
didn't want his structures seen by anyone until he had perfected
his methods. 

One day he was pursuing his pasttime when he noticed a little
girl watching him. She was a mulatto; actually very
light-skinned. She appeared to be about seven years old. She was,
if he had only known it, his second cousin; his granduncle raped
her slave grandmother resulting in her mother, who was in turn
given as a bedwarmer to a visiting friend of the boy's family,
producing her. She was dressed only in a skimpy pullover, too
short to adequately cover her. As she squatted down to watch him
build, he could easily see her little girlcleft peeping out from
under the hem of her garment. The sight somehow confused him, and
he quickly looked away. To cover his confusion he gruffly ordered
her, "G'wan, beat it, girl!" "Yassuh," she reluctantly obeyed,
shuffling off slowly. He watched her go. Something in the slope
of her shoulders, or perhaps her slender thighs, seemed to
hypnotize him. Before she had gone very far, he called her back.
"All right, you can stay; but you'll have to help me, and do what
I say!" he shouted. "Thank you, thank you, Massa!" she cried as
she hurried back, eager to be a part of the fascinating work.
Under his direction she carried what lumber she could, and his
tools. He found her handy to hold measuring strings, and mark
lines with charcoal, and such chores. 

She was a lonely child, her mother having died a few years
before. Because of her light color, and curly light brown hair
that fell in soft ringlets to her shoulders, she was not well
liked by the rest of the slaves, yet was kept as one by the
"whites". So she survived as best she could on what scraps of
food and comfort she could scrounge. Helping the young master in
his building was more fun than she'd ever had. 

The only thing that bothered him about her was her diction. But
that was easily remedied. "Yassuh," and "Massa," she said at
first, but he firmly instructed her not to talk like that."Like
what, Massa?" she asked, innocently. 

"Like that; like a slave!" he replied somewhat crossly. 

"But I am a slave," she answered, reasonably enough. 

"I know, I know!" he fumed, "But I don't want you talking like
that. Here, try this: say `Master'." 

"Massa," quoth she. 

"No, no! Like this: `Mas-ter'," he enunciated carefully. 

"Mas-ter," she said, uncertainly, but catching on. 

"Good! Now try `Yes Sir'." 

"Y-yes Sir!" she stammered. 

"That's it! Talk like that from now on," he commanded. And she
did. 

The days went by. They met every day to build. Whether he knew it
or not, the boy looked forward more and more to their times
together. One day, unbeknownst to him, the overseer happened to
catch sight of them. He watched the boy instructing the girl in
some detail of construction. A sly smile played across his lips. 


He sought the boy out the next day. Theirs was a friendly, if
somewhat distant, relationship. The boy occasionally would
solicit advice from the overseer, since his own father was
essentially unavailable. "Watcha doin' with that littl' yaller
gal, boy?" the older man asked. 

"W-what do you mean?" the young lad stammered, somehow
embarrassed to have someone else know about his relationship with
her, however innocent it might be. 

"Yer gonna ruin that littl' gal," the overseer opined solemnly. 

Somehow the idea alarmed the boy."Ruin her?! How?" 

"Y'see, son, these little gal slaves needs discipline. Didn't you
know that? The way yer treatin' her, she's gonna get the idear
that she's above a good whippin'. She'll get the idear that she
can get away with cuttin' up, and sech. Then, if she's ever under
a man who won't stand fer sech goin's on, she's liable to suffer
the worser for it. See what I mean?" 

"I-I guess so..." the boy muttered, uncertainly. 

"What ya need to do is show her yer in charge. Punish her some.
Make her mind you." 

Images of the young teen being whipped flashed through the boy's
mind, but somehow the teen was replaced by the little girl...his
mind shied away; she seemed too little for that, and yet... 

It was as if the man read the lad's mind. "Now you don't wanna
get too...intense with her at first, her bein' so little and all.
Make up some excuse and just put her over yer knee and give her a
good spanking. Make sure it's on her bare bottom!" He left the
boy with a grin and a wave. 

The next day the boy and the little girl met as usual at one of
his projects. As they worked the boy thought over what the
overseer had advised. Finally he came to a decision. He waited
until she had slipped, as she occasionally did, into the typical
slave patois. Then he sat down on a log. "Come over here, girl!"
he ordered. She came to his side, not suspecting anything. He
suddenly toppled her over his lap, tossed up her shirt, and began
to spank her soft bare bottom. WAP! WAK! "AH! OH!" she cried out,
struggling futilely in his grasp as he smacked her again and
again. Her cries seemed to go straight to his rod, and he felt
himself swelling in his pants, pressing against her waist, as she
moaned and sobbed. 

He finally let her up, her bottom reddened and stinging. She
rubbed it and danced in place, saying, "Oh, Young Massa, what did
you do that for? Why did you spank me?" He replied, "To help you
to remember to speak correctly! And if you don't want some more
of it right away, then you better get back to work!" She rushed
back to the work in progress, sniffling and sobbing. At the end
of the day she slunk off. He wondered if he would see her again.
The next day, there she was. She didn't have to come. But she was
still fascinated by the building projects. And there was
something about the young master...He spanked her every day,
making up excuses to do so. Sometimes it even seemed to him that
she deliberately provoked him in some small way to earn her
smacks. 

A few weeks later the overseer encountered the lad again. "How're
ya doin' with that li'l yaller gal?" he inquired. 

"A-All right," the boy replied. 

"Yer still lettin' her know who's boss, aren't ya?" 

"Yes, I spank her every day..." 

"Yer still just spankin' her? Ya gotta do more than that!" 

"W-what do you mean?" The boy had a sudden image of the little
girl suspended as the young teen had been, exposed, whipped...he
blushed and shook his head to clear it. 

"C'mon, I'll show ya!" He led the lad to his own quarters.
Inside, to the boy's surprise, was the young teen whom he had
seen being whipped! As they entered she shyly sidled up to the
man. The boy was even more surprised to see him take her tenderly
in his arms, and kiss her! Then he led her to his bed, and made
her assume knee-chest position on it, her cleft and anus fully
exposed to the young man's hungry eyes. 

"Now watch closely," he commanded the boy.  He proceeded to
demonstrate on the girl various methods of discipline, including
the switch and the strap, as well as probing her deeply in both
apertures. He quite expertly brought her to the brink of orgasm
and kept her there while he applied strict intimate discipline to
her buttocks, breasts, anus, and vulva. Finally he allowed her to
come as he strapped her anus while roughly massaging her
clitoris. 

"Ya see?" he asked the boy, as the girl subsided from her nearly
screaming orgasm, now merely sobbing and moaning as he continued
to rub her cleft and bottom, with the occasional SMACK! applied
to her moist cleft. "That's the way to keep'em in line, isn't it,
sweetheart?" With that he pulled the girl up, and she clung to
him, shoulder still shaking. He patted her back and grinned at
the boy. The boy stammered out some sort of farewell and stumbled
out the door in a daze. 

The next day the girl came to his project site as usual. As they
worked, he eyed her every chance he could. She was so cute, so
sweet...At last he could hold out no longer. He called her over
to him, stripped her of her shift, and pulled her down over his
lap. He spanked her soundly on her bare bottom as she moaned and
jiggled. Then, to her astonishment, he sat her up on his lap
facing away from him, and proceeded to spank her directly on her
bare cleft! SWAP! SWAK! "AAAA! OOOO!" she cried aloud, squirming
and writhing in his grasp. He stood her up, her knees almost
buckling from the intensity of feeling flooding through her. He
seized a switch he had cut beforehand and  switched her sharply;
calves, back of her thighs, then the fronts. She yelped and
wailed. Without warning he suddenly brought the switch across her
little nipples, SWAK! "AAAAIIIIIEEE!" she cried out as he whipped
her little breasts again and again. He stepped back for a moment
and admired the network of thin red lines left by the switch
across her nipples.  As she stood, swaying, eyes half closed, he
brought the switch up sharply between her legs, directly onto her
cleft, WAAP! "AAAAAAAH!" she screamed, and nearly fainted. He
caught her in his arms, hugged her, and then pulled her across
his lap again. He spit on his right hand, and then pierced her
anus, penetrating and probing her, while with his left he reached
around and seized her clitoris, pressing and rubbing as she
squealed and yelped. Soon her cries became more hoarse and
rhythmic, her little hips bucking up and down of their own
accord, and he was rewarded with a little-girl's orgasm as she
yipped and yiped. 

After he let her up, she surprised him by throwing herself at his
waist and clinging to him in a fierce hug, shoulders still
shaking with an occasional sob. Then she ran off. He watched her
go in a daze; he was in love. 

She came to the site the next day, but he wasn't there. Nor was
he there the next, or the next. She shyly asked around, and found
out that he had been suddenly called to his father's side in a
distant town, and wasn't expected back for months, if at all. She
wept, and moped around. Old Uncle took her under his wing; he had
noticed the relationship between the boy and the girl, and he
thought maybe, someday... 

The boy's father, fearing that he was dying, had decided to send
him to college up north. There he was exposed to Christianity,
and abolitionism. He converted, and became disgusted with himself
for being a slaveholder, and for what he had done to the little
girl. Yet he couldn't help thinking about what he had done with
her, late at night, as he lay in bed, his rod stiffening... 

The years passed. After four years of schooling, now 21 years
old, the young man was ready for life. His father, after having
rallied somewhat a few years before, was ailing again, and was
calling for his son to return home.  Since he was now grown, he
requested and received a smaller house away from the big house
for his own, "for privacy", he had said; his father thought he
understood. In reality, the young man wanted to be away from
where slaves might be abused in his presence. 

After his homecoming, a somewhat subdued affair, he trudged down
the path to his new home. His mood was somber. He didn't know
what to do about the fact that he was the son of a slaveholder,
and due to inherit slaves, possibly very soon. 

Unbeknownst to the young man, Old Uncle and the overseer had
arranged a "surprise". The young girl was now eleven. Under Old
Uncle's tutelage, she too had converted. When she thought about
the young man, it was with mixed emotions, to say the least! But
in the last 2 days, her life had suddenly changed. Old Uncle had
delivered her up to the overseer. He in turn had brusquely
informed the girl that she was to be given to an honored guest of
the plantation as a bedwarmer.  He warned her that, should she
fail to please the guest, she would be punished, and let on that
she might be punished anyway, for the pleasure of the guest. The
girl was almost in shock. Nothing like this had ever happened to
her before, not since the boy had had his way with her. She
stumbled along after the overseer, hardly noticing her
surroundings. He pointed her to a chair, and told her to wait
there for the guest. But he drilled it into her head that, as
soon as the guest arrived, she was to stand, greet him, and push
the straps of her shift off her shoulders so that it would fall
to the floor. As he left, she sank into the chair, burying her
face in her hands. 

She came to with a start, hearing the door slam. A man's
footsteps approached, and she hastily jumped to her feet. He came
into the room, she looked up, and their eyes met. At some
subconscious level, she recognized him, and a flash of fear shot
through her mind: "Oh, no, it's him! He's going to punish me like
he did before, and then rape me!" Yet at a deeper level, some
part of her remembered what it was really like when he punished
her, and a shiver almost of desire passed through her,
unacknowledged as of yet. And at an even deeper level,
unrecognized consciously, was the firm knowledge: Everything
would be all right. He loved her. He would take care of her. 

But at the surface she was still numb, going through the motions
of what she had been told to do: "Master, I am your bedwarmer,"
she said in a monotone, while she began to push the straps of her
shift off her slim shoulders... 

When the young man looked up and saw the girl, he was struck
dumbfounded. There before him was a vision in a slave shift, a
pretty little preteen. She was heartbreakingly slender, and to
his eyes had the face of an angel in despair. He recognized her,
and through his mind flashed multiple emotions. Part of him was
simply entranced by her slim beauty. Part of him, the part he was
ashamed of, instantly was lusting after her, planning all the
ways to punish her sexually, and then rape her. And part of him
was simply immediately flat-out in love with her. 

He watched as if hypnotized her hands moving to the straps of her
shift. Just as she pushed them off her shoulders he managed to
break out of the spell, berating himself for letting things get
this far, rushing towards her shouting, "No, stop that, don't!"
and other similar imprecations. Even as he did so, he couldn't
help but notice her shift slipping to the floor, revealing her
nearly flat chest, with nipples just barely breaking the surface,
and her unfledged cleft peeping from between her slender thighs.
She shrank back from him, fearing his wild advance, but he just
stooped down and pulled her shift back up, as he continued
awkwardly to try and reassure her, telling her not to worry, that
he wouldn't do anything to her she didn't want him to do, that he
would take care of her. 

She just stood there, trembling, staring at him, tears leaking
down her cheeks. She didn't seem to comprehend what he was
saying. He gently sat her in the chair as he continued to try and
reassure her. Finally he noticed her crying, and, again scolding
himself for not noticing sooner, he pulled his handkerchief out
of his pocket and handed it to her. She looked at it, then at
him, then at it, then at him, and broke out sobbing, collapsing
against his chest, burying her face in his shirt. He put his arms
around her gently and rocked her, like the little girl she was.
After a while she settled down, and seemed to him to be
exhausted. So he picked her up and deposited her on his bed,
pulled the covers up to her chin, kissed her on the forehead,
whispered to her to sleep well, he'd be right outside the door if
she needed him, and left the room. 

So began a new chapter in their lives. They settled fairly
quickly into a routine. The young man would go off in the morning
to work on taking over the running of the plantation. The girl
stayed in his house, mostly. He did not want her going out, as he
was afraid of what might happen to her; the overseer might abuse
her, or one of the other slaves, or any white man. When he was
home, she stayed near him. Even though it was frowned upon
(though not yet illegal), he taught her to read and write, and do
arithmetic. He found her to be a quick study. She read
voraciously once she learned how, and he was hard put to keep her
in books. 

Their relationship remained platonic. She seemed stubbornly to
cling to the notion of the young man as something like her older
brother, or her father, and refused to think about the times they
had had before (although they haunted her dreams). He for his
part considered it his duty to make no demands on her, and tried
not to dwell on her slender beauty, or her sweet charms so
readily displayed by the skimpy slave shift, though it tormented
him. He found he couldn't help but masturbate every night,
thinking about doing the things to her he had done before, and
more! Since she slept on a pallet beside his bed, he tried to
keep quiet about it, but it was hard. 

Things probably would have stayed this way for some time, except
for an incident that occurred a few months after the little girl
was given to him. She had become comfortable in the situation;
perhaps a little too comfortable. She took to walking outside the
house further and further when he was away. It was boring, after
all, for a little girl to stay inside all day long. One day a
distant relative of the family's came to the plantation
unexpectedly. The young man was away in town that day, and not
expected back until the evening. So the visitor took a stroll.
Accompanying him was his slave, an older teen girl, tall and
leggy. As he walked he slapped his riding crop absent-mindedly
against his leg. 

He rounded a corner, and there was the little slave girl. She was
propped up against a tree, reading a book. She didn't notice the
man until he stood over her. She looked up and gasped. He
snarled, "What do you think you're doing, yaller girl? Reading?!!
Any slave of mine that tries a trick like that gets a whippin'!
And that's what I aim to give you. Get up!" 

The girl stayed frozen for a moment, then began to slowly arise.
The man stepped back, shucked his coat, and handed it to his
slavegirl, to free up his whip arm. He swung his crop through the
air as if to limber up.  The thought never crossed his mind that
she would not obey him, so when she suddenly sprang up and shot
off, he stood stunned for a moment. Then, "Get her!" he shouted
at his slavegirl, and the leggy teen took off after the younger
girl. Fortunately for the little mulatto, she had not strayed far
from the young man's door. The older slave was overtaking her,
and would have seized her in a few more steps, but the little
girl managed to slip inside and close and bolt the door behind
her. The teenager banged on the door and shook it in desperation,
but to no avail. 

"So, you let her get away, did you?" the man sneered softly,
ignoring the girl's protestations. "Then I guess I'll have to
give you what she was going to get!" The little girl was
listening from behind the door. She heard the man tear the shift
off the slavegirl. She winced in sympathy at the SNAP! of the
crop. She could pretty much tell from the sound of the impact,
and the girl's cries and pleas, how she was being punished. First
her buttocks were soundly whipped. Then her master brought the
crop down across her high, firm breasts again and again as she
moaned and cried out. Then she nearly screamed as he whipped her
sharply between her legs. Then, tossing the crop aside, he spun
her around, pulled his tool out of his pants, and rammed roughly
into her anus until he had spent himself in her. Then he
contemptuously withdrew, leaving her sprawling in the dust,
sobbing and weeping. He strode off, and she hastily collected
herself and scurried after him. 

The little preteen was horrified, yet fascinated by the "scene"
she had overheard. Unconsciously her hand had stolen down between
her legs as the teen's punishment continued. By the time the
other slave was being raped, the littler girl was rubbing her own
clitoris, breath short, mouth dry.  After the man and his slave
had left, she raced to her little pallet, lay down, and
masturbated fervently, imagining herself as the teen being
punished, only somehow the man  had become her young master. She
spanked her own bottom and cleft as she came, yipping and
moaning. 

The girl couldn't bring herself to tell her master about the
incident at first (although much later she did); she just clung
to him fiercely when he came back home, pressing her slender body
against his leg, much to his mingled consternation and pleasure.
And from that point on things changed; she initiated more
physical contact with him: hugging him, brushing up against him,
holding his arm. She even put her sweet lips up to be kissed
whenever he left for the day and came back home. And nearly every
night, sometimes even as he was doing the same, she would
masturbate, imagining the young man doing to her what he had done
so long ago. 

One night she happened to stay awake longer than usual. As she
listened, she realized that the young man was breathing rather
hard. At the surface she was concerned for him, wondering if he
was ill; subconsciously she knew very well what was going on! She
slipped out of bed and, striking a match, lit the bedside lamp,
to find the young man with his erect rod in his hand and a
shame-faced look. He apologized profusely for exposing her to the
spectacle. She just stared for a moment, then softly said, "It's
all right, Master; I do it, too!" 

His jaw dropped. "You do??!" he asked, increduously. 

"Uh-huh," she nodded. 

Most nights after that, by seemingly unspoken agreement, they
both would masturbate simultaneously, caring little for the noise
they made, often timing it so that they came together, her soft
cries mingling with his heavier grunts. Then they would chuckle,
and say "Goodnight!" to each other. 

The little girl spent some time thinking about these things. She
found herself deeply excited at the idea of her master punishing
her, although the thought made her anxious at the same time. But
what about the rest of it?! The glimpse she'd had of his rod...it
was so long, and thick! She imagined him piercing her nakedness
with his tool...her mind sheered away from the thought. But she
kept coming back to the idea... 

It wasn't long after that that the little girl got up enough
courage to ask, "Master, what do you think about at night when
you...you know!?" 

After a pause, in a low voice he said, "I think about you, of
course!" 

"That's sweet!" she exclaimed. "I think about you, too!" 

"You do?" he inquired, amazed. 

"Uh-huh. When you think about me, what kind of things are you
thinking about doing with me?" she innocently inquired. 

He tried to avoid it. He refused at first, but she wheedled and
begged so fetchingly, that at last he gave in and growled, "I
think about what I used to do to you, and more!" 

"So do I!" she exclaimed excitedly, "Can we do it again?" 

It took a while for her to convince him that she really wanted
to, but not too long; his resistance was nearly nonexistent. He
took her by the hand, and they went out in search of Old Uncle.
When they found him, with little effort they talked him into
marrying them on the spot. 

Upon returning to their house, he held her in his arms long and
lovingly. He kissed her sweetly. Then he whispered, "You've been
such a naughty girl for so long; you really must be punished!" 

Without further ado he bent her under his arm, threw up her
shift, and gave her a brisk, business-like spanking on her bare
bottom, WAK! WAP! "Ah! Oh!" she moaned and softly cried as she
danced in place. He stood her up, went outside and cut a switch,
then came back and applied it to her calves, and the back of her
thighs. She trembled and whimpered as it whistled through the air
and smacked onto her tender flesh. She cried out as he brought
the switch down sharply across the front of her thighs, pausing
now and again to admire the network of thin red lines left by her
punishment. 

He stopped for a moment and stripped her of her shift. Now she
stood nude before him, eleven-year-old girl in front of
twenty-one-year-old man. The top of her head only barely came up
to his chest. She blushed prettily down to the tips of her
nipples as he drank in the sight of her slender unfledged
nakedness. He took a riding crop and swung it across her nipples
and breast buds, SWACK! "AAAAH! OOOOH!" she cried out wildly as
he whipped her again and again. Her nipples, barely breaking the
plane of her chest, soon were reddened and erect. He reached out
and seized her nipples, twisting and pinching them, kneading and
working her tender breast buds as she gasped and moaned. 

"Part your legs!" he commanded gruffly. When, distracted and
confused, she dithered briefly, he smacked her across the front
of her thighs, saying, "Right now, young lady!" She hurriedly
parted them, fully exposing her tender unfledged cleft. He swung
the riding crop up, sharply, between her legs, WHAP! 

"AAAAAA!" and "OOOOOOOH" she yelled as he whipped her again and
again on her mons, labia, and clitoris. Soon she was swaying,
nearly fainting from the intensity of her punishment, her breath
short, her knees weak, her mouth dry, an inexplicable moistness
between her legs. 

He swept her up and deposited her on the bed on her back, her
knees flexed and apart, her preteen nakedness fully exposed. He
seized her cleftlips, kneading and working them, pulling them
apart to see her intact hymen. He traced his fingers to her
clitoris as she shivered, then cried out as he seized it firmly,
pinching and twisting it as she moaned. Then suddenly he had
fastened his mouth on her girlhood, raping her with his tongue,
pressing insistently against her labia and hymen, then attacking
her clitoris, taking it in a long excruciating bite between
tongue and teeth that nearly drove her to distraction as she
writhed and squirmed. She began to buck and yelp, clearly nearing
climax. He stood up abruptly and snatched up the riding crop,
bringing it down sharply onto her cleft and perineum, SMACK!
"AAAAAAAH! O-O-O-O-O!" she nearly screamed as she came andcame. 

Even before she had fully subsided, he whispered to her, "It's
time for your final punishment, young lady!" Then without pause
he stretched himself out over her, positioned his rod at her
cleft, and rammed it into her maidenhood with one thrust, raping
her of her virginity, driving for her cervix. She screamed as her
maidenhead was taken from her. He stayed buried in her and just
held her as she sobbed and cried, shoulders shaking. She could
feel him still throbbing deep inside her smarting cleft. Soon her
cries died down to the occasional sob and sniff. He began to move
within her, thrusting in and out of her abused cleft. She was
forced to cry out rhythmically as he pistoned in and out of her
reddened sex. In practically no time she was nearing her
little-girl orgasm again, yipping and moaning as he raped her.
She came just as he went over the top too, emptying himself at
her cervix as she shuddered and yelped in anguished passion. 

They lay on the bed, he still buried inside of her, and fell
asleep. Later in the evening he woke up to find her still nestled
next to him. He simply stood gazing down at her for a while. He
was overcome with joy at having her, unable to absorb the fact
that she was his, her slender body in his hands to punish and
rape. He woke her three times in the night whipping her thighs
with the crop, sweeping her into his arms to calm her fears, then
laying her on the bed for more whipping, then raping her
repeatedly, his hard rod forcing her to come again and again. 

And they lived happily ever after. 

The End. 

by cc 

contact me at:
pics48@quickhosts.com 


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