From: bobandcarole@aol.com   
      
   Story: VALERIE'S DADDIESby   
      
      
   bobandcarole   
      
      
      
   WAP-WAP-WAP! ?AAAA! OH-OH-OH!? the little girl jumped and cried out, as   
   the tawse snapped against her bare buttocks. Then, 'OOO! OH,   
   'DADDY'-CHARLES, PLEASE-PLEASE-PLEASE!? as he whipped her repeatedly on   
   her unfledged mons and cleftlips. Soon her sweet nakedness had a   
   fetching red flush as she sobbed and moaned, mouth dry, knees weak,   
   chest heaving, the lips of her vulva strangely moistened. He swept her   
   in his arms and caressed her, rubbing her bottom, then tracing his   
   fingers across her labia and clitoris. Soon she was bucking and rocking,   
   gripped by a preteen's orgasm as she arched and cried out.   
      
   Valerie 'came to? with a start; just another daydream memory. Next to   
   her lay her 'Daddy'-Charles, just as he had for what seemed like so   
   long, although it had only been a few weeks when the first signs of   
   illness struck. He was so weak, so thin, his breathing so labored. It   
   wouldn?t be long, that's what the visiting nurse had said.   
      
   'Don't worry, little one, everything will be all right,? he had told   
   her, when they had first learned the full story: only a few weeks,   
   nothing to be done. 'I?ve wired my brother, Buzz. He?ll be here as soon   
   as he can, and he?ll adopt you and take care of you.? She had never met   
   'Daddy'-Charles' younger brother, but she had seen pictures; a handsome   
   man. And 'Daddy'-Charles always spoke well of him. Buzz had been   
   married, but his wife had been killed in a tragic accident, and he had   
   never remarried. He was a successful international consultant, often   
   working in isolated areas of the world on important projects, so it   
   would be a little while before he could travel to ******, where Valerie   
   and 'Daddy'-Charles lived.   
      
   She watched him for a few moments, making sure there was no change, then   
   settled back in the chair, eyes closing again?   
      
   The little blond girl crouched in a corner of an alley, clutching the   
   crust of bread she had scrounged from a nearby trashcan, hoping no   
   bigger child, or street bum, would snatch it from her. After she had   
   wolfed it down, she scurried back 'home', or what passed for it. She had   
   never known her father, and her mother had died shortly after she was   
   born. She lived with her mother's sister, a slattern who, when not   
   drunk, had at least tried to put scraps of clothing on the child's back,   
   and food in her mouth, paid for by whoring, mostly. Lately she had been   
   too wasted even to do that, and the child was becoming more desperate.   
   At eight she was just beginning to understand her plight, and how much   
   worse it might become. The only comfort she had ever had was when a   
   missionary couple had spent some time in the slums of *******, where she   
   lived. They had taught her to read, and to sing some songs. Under their   
   loving and gentle tutelage she had even converted. But they had been   
   force d to leave by the local despot, and she was effectively alone   
   again. Her aunt had started to talk about finding men who would pay to   
   spend time with the little girl. She talked in euphemisms, but the girl   
   knew. Her life had been hard and drab up until then; now it looked to   
   become brutal and degrading, as well.   
      
   Then He had come: 'Daddy'-Charles. She never knew how he had decided on   
   her; she supposed he had seen her on the street. She knew he had come to   
   that area to find someone like her. He had money, and papers, and in   
   only a few minutes had convinced her aunt to sign them. She found out   
   later that they said that he was now her guardian, and her aunt had   
   signed away all rights to her. He had taken her to the house he was   
   staying at, in *******. It was really a simple home, nicely appointed   
   and not very big, but it seemed palatial to her. She had her own room, a   
   soft bed with sheets and a blanket, a bathroom with a sink, a tub, and a   
   shower! She got really clean for the first time in her life. And the   
   food! Simple fare, by civilized standards, but ambrosia to her.   
      
   He let her get accustomed to her new life for a few days. He found out   
   she could read, and got her books, marvelous books. They ate in   
   restaurants she would never have dreamed of even working in, let alone   
   eating in, she now dressed so prettily that heads turned as they sat   
   down. They went to church together.   
      
   Then he sat down and talked seriously to her. He explained why he had   
   come seeking for someone like her. He wanted to adopt her, so that she   
   would be his daughter. And he wanted to marry her. And he wanted her to   
   be his slave. It was difficult for her to understand, and she probably   
   didn't, fully, but he was patient. Soon she realized what he wanted to   
   do with her: he wanted to love her, and raise her, care for her and   
   cherish her. He wanted to spank her, and whip her, not severely, but as   
   a father might do with an erring daughter, only sexually. And he wanted   
   to rape her. He said he wouldn't do that last, not yet, at least not   
   'all the way'; she was still a little too young. Maybe in a year or so?   
      
   He was leaving it up to her. He told her that he could take her back to   
   her aunt, if she wanted. Or he could find an orphanage for her to go to.   
   She pulled a face, the universal preteen 'yuck' face, at those ideas. He   
   chuckled, and said, 'I guess not, eh?? Or she could stay with him. She   
   snuggled up against him, but didn't answer, yet. She was conflicted; she   
   was desperate to stay with him, and not just because of the material   
   circumstances; other than the missionaries, he was the only one who had   
   ever shown her any love or tenderness. But the things he wanted to do to   
   her!   
      
   It was as if he could read her mind. 'You don't like the sound of the   
   things I want to do, do you, little one?? She hung her head. 'I don't   
   think you'll find them as bad as you expect. Actually, believe it or   
   not, you might come to like it a lot.? She screwed up her little face in   
   surprise at that. 'I've got an idea; how about if we try, just a bit, of   
   what I'm talking about, and see what it's like? Don't be afraid: all you   
   have to do is say 'Ow' or 'Don't' or 'Stop' or 'No', and I'll stop. OK??   
      
   She had reluctantly agreed. He took her in his arms for a while, just   
   hugging her close. Then he gently bent her under his arm, lifted the hem   
   of her skirt, and pulled down her panties. He took a moment to softly   
   rub her bare bottom as she trembled. WAPWAPWAPWAP! he suddenly smacked   
   her jiggling buttocks, briskly, but not severely, leaving only faint red   
   marks where his hand impacted her flesh. She gasped but didn't cry out.   
   Then it was over, so quickly she was almost...disappointed. Again he   
   rubbed her bottom, soothingly, tenderly, cuddling her against him. He   
   tipped her little face up to look at him.   
      
   "So? Was that too much?" he inquired.   
      
   "N-no, I-I guess not. It didn't really hurt that bad. It just stung,   
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)