Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. The Hobbit-Girl and the Man of the Big People (Mg ped rom reluc spank) Written by cc In a hole in the ground hid a little hobbit-girl. It was not a hobbit-hole, for that would have meant Comfort: pantries and parlors, bedrooms and kitchen, and a nice round door painted bright green. Nor was it a damp muddy hole, full of the ends of worms and an oozy smell. It was a bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat. She had found it and enlarged it a bit (hobbits are naturally good at digging) and used it to hide in, which she had to do frequently. She was a pre-tween hobbit-girl, the 'tweens being the irresponsible twenties before a hobbit-child's 'coming of age' at 33; in build and development she resembled a human child of 9-12 years old, but was only as tall as a 4 or 5 year old of the Big People. She was more slender than most hobbits, partly because her nutrition had not been of the best lately, but partly by nature. She was primarily a Fallohide hobbit, and they are more elfin than the Stoors and Harfoots. Her name was Tulip (many hobbits had botanical names). She was hiding from Men, and there were many around. She had been the slave of a Man until she had run away. How had she come to belong to him? She had no idea. She had no memory of life before him, save for a vague idea that her mother had been ill. Probably she had died, and the little hobbit-girl had been seized by the Man, or some other who had sold her to him. As she huddled in her hiding place she couldn't help but recall what her life had been like with him... [Whap! Smack!] "Aaah! OOO!" the little naked hobbit-girl cried out as her Master spanked her bare bottom. Then the tawse: [WAPWAPWAPWAP!] He brought it repeatedly to bear on her naked thighs, front and back as she keened. He whipped her buttocks, bringing a faint red glow to her cheeks as she whimpered and danced from foot to foot. Then he casually cupped and squeezed her bottom, and seized her nipples, kneading and working them as she writhed and gasped. He tawsed her nipples sharply, bringing cry after cry to her lips. Soon they were erect and reddened. He whipped her on her tender, delicate anus, then full upon her cleftlips as she nearly screamed from the intensity of her punishment. Once he judged her tender hobbit-girlflesh to be sufficiently chastened, he tossed the tawse aside and seized her buttocks and thighs, kneading and working her charms lasciviously. Soon he was pinching and twisting her cleftlips and clitoris as her breath came short, her lips dry, her knees trembling. After amusing himself in this way for a bit he let her go. She fumbled for her clothes, deeply embarrassed. He had disciplined her in this way for as long as she could remember. Although he whipped her regularly, it was never hard enough to leave a mark more than a faint redness that faded slowly. The embarrassment of it was worse than the pain. Even more embarrassing, although not yet consciously acknowledged by the little hobbit-girl, was the fact that there was a part of her that actually looked forward to her discipline sessions, the strap snapping against her mons and cleftlips, his hands molesting her tender charms... Even now, as she hid in the cave, when she recalled those times her hand strayed to her little hobbit-girlhood, and she even spanked herself on her bottom and girlcleft, as that burning sensation glowed between her thighs. Hobbits were a dwindling people. It was some hundreds of years since the War of the Ring. Although the goodwill of the Kings of Gondor and Arnor had protected them for a long time, it was inevitable that they would lose out to the larger and stronger humans. In the conflicts over land and resources, some unscrupulous Men would take hobbits captive. Although they did not make very strong slaves, they were dexterous and intelligent. Men were not above taking sexual advantage of female hobbits as well. Although many hobbits inclined to the plump, they were often still quite attractive. In the case of the hobbit-girl, her master had not yet fully used her sexually, limiting himself to the discipline sessions and the molestation of her slender body. Other than that he was not especially cruel; she had to do housework and wait at the dinner table, but she was not misused except for the sexualized discipline. Still, as she grew older, she became aware that her lot was not what it should be. Also she became aware that he was becoming more and more insistent when he touched her body. She could feel his rod poking her through his clothes and her thin shift. She sensed that soon he would take her discipline sessions to a new, dreaded level. However, unacknowledged consciously, a certain part of her was excited at the thought of him using her sexually. Finally she decided to run away. This was not really so difficult to do; hobbits can move with nearly complete silence when they want to. She made her way to a village some distance from the one she had been in and, finding a hole to hide in, eked out a meager living stealing food. Which took substantial effort; feeding a young hobbit takes a lot of provender. It was dusk, and she was hungry, so she snuck out once again to the nearby village. She had found food in a number of locations, but one in particular had been most convenient: the house of a Healer of the Big People. The Healer was a Man who lived alone, no wife, no family, and his dwelling place was somewhat larger than most, with many rooms, so once inside she had many places to hide from him. He also kept a well-stocked larder. So back she went again. "Once too often to the well" is an old saying which she had never heard, but it proved true this time for the little hobbit-girl. She was busy in one corner of the larder, stuffing 'taters in her skirt, when she heard the Man coming. She tucked herself away out of sight. The door of the larder closed and she realized fearfully that he was in there with her! "Well, Thief, I know you're in here. You might as well come out," she heard his voice; a pleasant baritone. She waited; perhaps he was only bluffing? "All right, since you choose to be obstinate, it will be the worse for you when I find you." He headed unerringly for her hiding place. She squeaked and bolted, but, despite her hobbit agility, he snagged her with a long arm as she tried to dart past him. She fought, but she had no strength to match him. Soon she was pinned in his arms. He carried her out of the larder to a parlor and sat on a chair, pulling her across his lap. "Little girl-thieves get what's coming to them: a good spanking!" He tossed the hem of her ragged skirt over her back and landed smack after smack on her jiggling bottom as she kicked and wailed. In fact, he really was not spanking her very hard. He thought she was a 5-year old child of the Big People, a little small for her age, perhaps. He had suspected for the last few days that there was some pilfering going on, and had lain in wait for the thief. Now he was only doing what was fairly routine in villages of the Big People. If a small child was 'caught red-handed', and no parent was around, whoever was handy was expected to deliver the discipline. But even as he spanked her, he gradually became more and more aware that the situation was a bit different than he had supposed. For one thing, this child was more agile than any small child of the Big People; it was all he could do to keep her on his lap as she writhed and kicked. For another, despite her yelping and squirming, she appeared to be responding surprisingly...favorably to his ministrations: she pressed her little hips down onto his lap, almost grinding her mons against the front of his pants, which was disconcerting, as his rod was swelling rapidly. And not just in response to the pressure. Indeed, he had known for some time that the idea of sexually disciplining a young girl was strongly exciting to him. While his young wife was alive she had satisfied him very well... *********************************************************************** Most of the day she had acted normally. No one would have been able to tell, unless they had listened carefully to the things she said, and the tone of voice she had used. They might have seemed a little...child-like, perhaps. But then, so many young women were immature, they might not have even noticed. But, no matter how old she had been in real years, his wife had always been ten years old to him. And although they had been legally married, she had always been his little "daughter", and he had been her "Daddy". They had gone through some rough times, when his predilection had first been revealed, but she had wisely decided to try and satisfy it as best she could, hoping that would help to keep him on "the straight and narrow", as it were. It had worked well, for the short time they had had together. On a typical evening, after the day's duties were done, he'd have been reclining in the main room. She would have come trudging into the room, looking downcast. She'd have been dressed in child's clothes, perhaps a nightshirt, all frills and lacy, very sheer, with nothing on underneath. Her hair would have been in a blue, little-girl's bow. "Come here, young lady!" he would have growled. She would have shuffled over to his side. "You've been very naughty today, haven't you?" he would have enquired. She would have just nodded, glumly. "Speak up, little missy, I can't hear you!" he would have commanded, punctuating it with a smack to the front of her bare thighs. "OH!" she would have gasped, and, "Yes, Daddy, I've been naughty!" she would have added. "And naughty girls should be punished, shouldn't they, young lady?" he would have asked rhetorically. "Oh, yes Daddy, I know, but Oh, please, Daddy, must I be punished?!" she would have pleaded, fetchingly. But to no avail. He would have tipped her unceremoniously over his lap, tossing up the hem of her nightie, and commencing to rain smack after open-handed smack on her buttocks, alternating cheeks, and frequently aiming for the groove between them, almost spanking her on her anus, as she would wail and sob. After her bottom was suitably reddened, he would have slowed down, and gently rubbed her bottom, often pulling the cheeks apart so she could feel the cool air on her little bottomflower. She would have gasped and moaned softly. He would have pushed her off his lap and commanded her to stand up. She would have rubbed her nose and her bottom, snuffling. "You're not done with your punishment yet, young lady!" he would have barked. "Take off that nightgown this instant!" She would have dithered. "Oh, but Daddy, please! Do I haveta? Then I'll be all...naked! It'll be so 'barassing!" "Right now, young lady!" he would have replied, with a smack on her bottom. "You should have thought of that before you misbehaved!" Seemingly reluctantly she would have pulled the nightie up and over her head. In his mind's eye she would have been heartbreakingly slender, hips just beginning to think about flaring, breasts no more than buds, nipples barely breaking the plane of her chest. Her girlcleft would have nearly matched his imagination: smooth, unfledged, shyly peeping from between her thighs, as she would have writhed a bit in seeming embarrassment at his avid gaze. "I think it will be the tawse, tonite, little missy," he would have announced. "Oh, Daddy, but please, please, please!" she would have seemed to beg, piteously. But he would have been determined. He would have circled her, slapping the end of the tawse into his palm, ominously. Suddenly he would have flashed it out, smacking the back of her thighs as she jumped and yelped. He would have whipped her with the tawse until the backs of her thighs were suitably reddened. As he would have done so he would have rested his left hand on her shoulder, then would have slid it down, almost casually, then have seized her left breast, pinching and twisting her tender nipple. She would have writhed prettily in reaction. He would have swing around, circling his hand from her breast to her bottom, seizing her recently-spanked cheeks in a firm grasp, as he would bring the tawse down sharply across the front of her bare thighs. She would have cried out repeatedly as he would discipline her. After a bit of that he would have paused, looking her up and down. She would have shivered and sniffled, waiting. He would have tenderly kissed her forehead and hugged her a bit, as she pressed against him. "You're so precious and pretty, little one. But you're getting bigger, aren't you! I think you may be ready for Big Girl's punishment tonite," he would have announced. "Oh, but Daddy, please! Big Girl's punishment??!! But that means I haveta be whipped on" she would have trailed off, seeming to not want to finish the thought. "That's right, young lady and right now!" With that he would have brought the tawse down sharply across her breasts with a smack! She would have wailed and sobbed as he would have repeatedly whipped her top, reddening her little-girl breasts, her nipples becoming erect from the stimulation. "You know what I think you need, little one? I think you need an 'undergarments' whipping," he would have opined solemnly. "Wh-what's th-that?" she would have inquired, apparently nervously twisting her hands together and fidgeting. "That's where I use this," he would have said, holding up the tawse, "To make it look like you have on a girl's undergarments, but it's really just your hide being tanned from your punishment!" She would gape in seeming astonishment at this, and then beg and plead. "Oh, Daddy, please, do I have to have an undergarments whipping??!! Oh, Daddy, it's gonna sting so much on my little nipples and cleft! Oh, Daddy, please!" WHAP! would have gone the tawse on her breasts again, and "AAAA!" would cry out his little child-wife. Her moans and cries would have filled the air as he would redden her little breasts completely, not neglecting the undersides and lateral surfaces. Then he would have shifted his aim to her bottom, fading but still reddened from her spanking, and bring the flush back to her "cheeks" with the tawse, as she would have danced from foot to foot. Shifting to her front, without mercy he would have swung the tawse back and forth across her mons as she would wail and sob. He would have ordered her to spread her little legs, and she would obey after a sharp smack to her breasts convinced her that he meant business. Then he would have completed her 'undergarments whipping' by thoroughly reddening her cleft and anus with the tawse. By then she would have been sobbing convulsively, the tears running down her little cheeks. He would have stopped, finally, and sat down, pulling her down onto his lap. She would have clung to him, staining his shirt with her tears as she sniffled. His rod, fully swollen, would have been pressing into her little groove. She would have shifted a little uncomfortably, and asked, "Daddy, what's that lump in your pants pressing on my bottom?" "That's Daddy's punishment rod, honey," he would have responded. "Yyour ppunishment rod?!" she would have inquired, apparently nervously. "Are you going to p-punish me with it?" "Yes, baby doll, I am." "Are you going to...whip me with it?" she would have asked, her little face screwed up as she seemed to try to imagine how he would do that. "No, honey, Daddies use their punishment rods to punish their little girls by raping them in their little anuses and girlclefts when they've been naughty. And you've been very naughty, so it's time for you to be raped," he would have announced. Without further talk he would have put her in knee-chest position. She would have seemed too astonished and stunned to speak. He would have lubricated her rosebud, and suddenly pierced, penetrated, and probed her tender, delicate anus. With the other hand he would have seized her clitoris, kneading and working it. She would have moaned and writhed in 'preteen' passion. Soon she would have been obviously nearing climax, so he would have withdrawn his hand and spanked her a few times sharply on her anus and cleft. She would have bucked and sobbed, nearly screaming as she came. Even before she had sobbed out the last of her little-girl orgasm, he would have positioned his rod at her rosebud, and thrust deep, raping her in her anus. She would have screamed, "OH, DADDY, YOU'RE RAPING ME! YOU'RE RAPING MY ANUS! OHDADDYPLEASEI'LLBEGOOD! OH, DADDY, YOU'RE STRETCHING MY LITTLE ANUS!" The scene would have been so intense, in practically no time he would have been emptying his seed into her rectum as she would have cried out rhythmically with each thrust. They would have collapsed together, he still buried inside of her, as she would have sobbed out the last of her come in his arms. After a while he would have withdrawn. "We need to get you cleaned up, young lady, you're a mess!" he would have said, and propelled her, with a swat to her naked bottom, to the 'necessary'. In the tub he would have cleaned her well, scrubbing her nipples, anus, cleft, and clitoris with a rough terry washcloth. She would have squirmed away from his ministrations, so he would have sternly ordered her, "Hold still, young lady!" and spanked her wet thighs, bottom, anus, and cleft, as! she would have sobbed, "Oh, Daddy, please, I'll hold still! Please, Daddy, please!" Finally he would have released her, and resumed her cleaning. She would have shivered and moaned, but would hold still as he scrubbed her intimate parts. Out of the tub, he would have toweled her off and swatted her on the bottom as he would send her back to the main room. He would have laid her naked, supine, knees spread. She would have blushed as an unfledged preteen girl would if she had been so exposed to his gaze. He would have brought the tawse down full upon her cleft and clitoris, SMACK! "OOOOOO!" would cry his sweet 'little girl', giving voice repeatedly as he would have whipped her again and again. Soon he would have been fully ready. He would have covered her slender body with his, and unceremoniously have thrust his rampant rod deep into her girlcleft, raping her to her cervix with one stroke. "AAAAAAH!" she would have screamed, and "OH, DADDY! YOU'RE RAPING ME! YOU RAPED MY LITTLE MAIDENHEAD FROM ME! OH, DADDY, PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE!" She would have continued to cry out, rhythmically, as he would rape her in earnest: long, hard, quick thrusts, bringing her quickly to a bucking, writhing, screaming orgasm. He would have forced her to endure more intimate punishment as he would continue to rape her vigorously for a few more minutes while she moaned and sobbed before he would finally deign to empty himself inside her abused unfledged girlcleft. Then they would have collapsed together in each other's arms, with long, sweet, passionate kisses. How he had cherished her, and appreciated the gift she gave him nearly every day, for the brief time they had together. He had been a Knight of the Mark, an UnderMarshal in fact. He had been stationed on the borders of the Entwash, in northern Rohan, where wild men and even the occasional orc were still known to attempt to slip over the border to raid and harass. He had had a successful command, highly valued by the Third Marshal of the Mark, and loved by his men. He had a beautiful and loving wife, and they planned to have a family together. Yet all his power and authority could not defeat the disease that took her from him so suddenly. It had been a type of plague that, as he found out later, if northern Rohan had only had ready access to the proper medicines, she might have survived. Some men might have descended into despondency after such a blow, and indeed he had been shaken by it. He gave up his command and drifted for a short time, but had been drawn inexorably to Gondor, where he enrolled in the Academy of Healers. There he learned much about how to defeat the disease that took his wife as well as many other maladies. He took his new-found knowledge where he judged it would do the most good: to the newly-opened territories of Eregion, which had so long lain fallow before the War of the Ring. This land lay just south of Eriador, where hobbits had long lived. So it was that, in the rough and ready frontier, butting up against the ancient territory of the hobbits, there were many opportunities for unscrupulous men to take advantage of the smaller and weaker race. The Man himself desired nothing but good for hobbits, if he thought of them at all. Even in Gondor, despite the respect the small people were held in due to the memory of Frodo and Samwise, the heroes of the War of the Ring, little was known about them. In Rohan there was only the fading remembrance of Meriadoc who had aided the famous Eowyn when she slew the Lord of the Nazgul, and the handful of old folk tales concerning the 'holbytlan', who hid in sand-dunes and could change their voices to resemble the piping of birds. Her incredible agility, the level of development of her body, the silky hair that grew on the tops of her feet...the Man suddenly realized that this was no 5 year old human child; this was a somewhat older hobbit-child. And she was continuing to respond most disturbingly to his ministrations, grinding her mons against his swelling rod, writhing and moaning passionately. As astonishing as it was to him, it appeared that, indeed it was so; she was climaxing even as he continued to spank her! As all this realization rushed upon him, he was overwhelmed by a flood of emotion: pity for the oppressed hobbits in general, combined with concern for this little hobbit-girl (who obviously must be in dire straits, considering her ragged attire and her thefts from his larder), the memories of his wife, and the thought of the children they had never had. He swept her off his lap and into his arms, holding her close, patting her back, rubbing her reddened bottom, rocking her comfortingly as she wailed and shuddered out the last of her pre-tween orgasm, her tears staining his tunic. After a bit she settled down, but remained snug in his arms, clinging to him, shivering a little. He stroked her hair. Finally he pulled her out a bit so he could look in her face. "Little one, are you hungry?" he inquired. Nothing he could have said would have reassured and encouraged her more! She nodded enthusiastically, and was soon settled at his table, perched on a high chair with cushions to raise her high enough to reach the table, packing away a meal that would have done credit to many a grown Man of the Big People. When she finally slowed down, the table beginning to look rather empty, he said, "We need to talk, but first you need a wash, young lady!" She readily agreed, and he led her to a tub, well supplied with hot water from a nearby boiler in which he kept a fire banked. A bar of lye soap and some towels completed the washing supplies. He provided her with a dressing gown that fit her well enough, kept in store in case he had to care for a small child of the Big People overnight. When she was done they sat down and talked for a long time. Having been well-fed, washed, and dressed, she was inclined to trust him. Unbeknownst to her, the memory of the punishment-orgasm she had received at his hands also colored her affections. She unfolded her life to him, leaving nothing out, even the discipline she had received at the other Man's hands, and her reaction to it. He found her charming and sweet, with an alien, elfin beauty. It was perhaps a foregone conclusion. There was no readily available place for him to take her to, no 'hobbit child welfare agency', no consular office of The Shire nearby. He offered to convey her to Eriador, perhaps to Tuckborough or even Hobbiton itself, but she shook her head. She knew no one there. She didn't know what they would do with her. Couldn't she stay with him, please? He could not resist. So he said, "For now, little one, for now. But we'll need to talk again, soon..." Thus began an idyllic interval for the little hobbit-girl. She had never been so well-fed in her life (although the Man was careful not to let her eat enough to get as plump as some hobbits!), or worn such comfortable and pretty clothes (the Man had the tailor make her some to suit). He taught her her letters, and was even able to find a rare copy of the Red Book for her to read. She helped out in the household, and he even found her to be useful in his practice as a nimble-fingered assistant. But she was still a pre-tween hobbit-girl. No matter how well-behaved she might have been usually, some degree of mischievousness was inevitable. A bit of talking back here, staying up too late there, pulling a prank or two; it added up. Finally one evening the Man called the little hobbit-girl to his study. "You've been naughty lately, haven't you, young lady?" he inquired. She hung her head, but didn't answer. "It is considered polite to answer when you are spoken to, especially when an adult is speaking and a child is being addressed," he intoned softly but firmly. She looked up, a bit taken aback. He had not spoken sternly to her since he had taken her in. "I-I'm s-sorry, Sir, I didn't mean...I mean I'm not trying..." she began, then burst into tears. He enfolded her in his arms and held her for a while. "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry" she kept sobbing out. After a bit the Man hushed her, held her out a bit, and dried her tears. "It's all right, I know you didn't mean to be naughty. It's hard for little girls to behave themselves all the time. But what do you think I should do with you now?" he said, and waited expectantly. She hung her head and didn't say anything for a moment, then, "Y-you should p-punish me, Sir," she whispered. "And how do you think I should do that?" he inquired. "I g-guess I should g-get a wh-whippin'," she said, and began to weep. Story3: The Man immediately knelt down beside her and cradled the little hobbit-girl in his arms. "Listen to me, little one. I'm not going to punish you hard. If I whip you, I don't think it will be bad as you think. Tell you what: let's try it. If it hurts too much, all you have to do is say "Ouch" or "No" or "Don't" or "Stop", and I'll quit. All right?" She looked up, with perhaps a bit of a hopeful look in her eye, and nodded again. He bent her under his arm, tossed up the hem of her shift, pulled down her little undergarments, and gave her a quick spanking, not particularly hard. When he was done, he stood her up, her undergarments still down around her ankles. She gave him a quizzical look and said, "Is that all? I-I used to get much more of a spanking than that, Sir. I-it's not enough, don't you think?" With an opening like that, the Man could not resist. He replied, "Very well, Tulip, you're right. You should be punished properly." He bent her over a footstool, and pulled his belt off. He wrapped it around his fist, letting about 6 inches of it dangle. He swung it back and forth across her faintly reddened bottom, bringing a fresh flush to the cheeks, and whimpers and yelps from the little pre-tween hobbit girl's lips. But she never said, "No", or "Stop", or "Don't", or "Ouch"! When he was done he hugged her for a while, gently rubbing her faintly reddened bottom as she whimpered a bit, snuggling down in his arms. After a while he picked her up, laid her in her little bed, pulled her undergarments over her bottom and the covers up to her chin, smoothed her hair back and kissed her forehead, saying, "Good night little one." She was asleep almost immediately. From that time on the little hobbit-girl, already a pleasant companion in most ways, became even more attached to the Man. She would often come to him for a hug, or to be picked up and cuddled, giving him sweet little hobbit-kisses which he returned most willingly. She would tease him and get him to tickle her, dissolving helplessly on the floor in gales of laughter. She would cuddle against him in the evening, and he would read to her out of the Red Book, or they would sing together. And she continued to misbehave at times. Nothing very bad; in fact it seemed to the Man that she would actually try to find ways to misbehave enough to warrant a spanking, without doing anything truly damaging or dangerous. He was quite willing to oblige her, and soon she found herself over his lap, or on the business end of his belt, nearly every day, for strict but fairly gentle punishments. And she clearly continued to respond sexually to being disciplined. She would arch and buck as she was spanked or whipped, rubbing her thighs together. When over his lap she would grind her little mons against his swelling rod. And after her punishments, when he would gently rub her tender hobbit girl-flesh, she would coo and writhe, spreading her legs and wriggling her little bottom in a way that brought his soothing hand closer and closer to her little girl-cleft. Naturally the Man found all this both intensely pleasurable and very frustrating. Almost subconsciously he began to push things along. When he spanked her, he let his hand stray closer and closer to her anus and girl-cleft, and when he whipped her with his belt, he let the strap-end curl around her thighs, snapping closer and closer to her mons, cleftlips, and clitoris. When he 'soothed' her afterwards, he let his hands drift closer and closer to her intimacies. Soon her discipline had become openly sexual. He would strip her naked, and ogle her sweet little hobbit-girl body, in development like that of a 10-year old girlchild of the Big People, but in size more like that of a 4 or 5-year old, as she blushed and squirmed, deeply embarrassed to be so exposed to his ardent gaze. She was surprisingly slender for a hobbit, and quite pretty: curly auburn hair, green eyes, upturned nose dusted with freckles, a sweet pouting lips, slim shoulders, nipples barely breaking the plane of her chest atop mere breast buds, unfledged girlcleft peeping from between her thighs. He would whip her buttocks, admiring the red glow imparted to her cheeks by his belt as she whimpered and danced from foot to foot. Then he might whip her thighs, back and front, as he casually cupped and squeezed her bottom, and even seized her nipples, kneading and working them as she writhed and gasped Next he would use the strap-end of his belt on her nipples sharply, bringing cry after cry to her lips. Soon they would be erect, and reddened fetchingly. Finally he would whip her on her tender, delicate anus, or full upon her cleftlips as she nearly screamed from the intensity of her punishment. Then would come the gentle rubbing of her sweet, punished body. He would pull her naked down onto his lap, and caress her nipples and buttocks as she sighed, then run his hand down, down to the core of her being, sliding his finger between her unfledged cleftlips to find her clitoris as her sighs progressed to moans and soft cries. Her hips would buck and rock, and soon she would be crying out and coming in his hands, collapsing into his arms as he cuddled and rocked her, her shoulders shaking, her tears staining his tunic. This sort of thing went on regularly for a few weeks. Finally the Man decided he could hold out no longer. He sat her down and talked with the little hobbit-girl one evening. "Tulip, are you happy here, with me?" he asked her. Her eyes sparkled as she nodded her head vigorously. "Then I have a question for you. Would you like for us to be married?" "Yes, Sir, yes!" she cried happily, nearly dancing up and down with excitement. The Man wanted to make sure she understood fully what that meant, and asked her if she knew. She lowered her head, but looked up shyly at him from under her eyelashes. "It means that you will rape me, won't you, Sir?" she asked, softly. His head spun. He managed to croak out an affirmative answer to her astonishing question. Then he spent some time simply holding her, and kissing her hair and forehead, as she melted against his chest. Abruptly she pulled back, looked the Man hard in the eye, and demanded, "You'll still punish me after we're married, right?" He nodded, dazed and joyful at her attitude, and enfolded her back in his arms as she snuggled happily. After a while he whispered in her ear, "I think it's time for you to be punished, don't you, little one?" He waited for a long beat, then she gave one short nod. He lost no time in bending her under his arm, tossing up her skirt, and giving her a brisk, businesslike spanking on her bare bottom as she yelped and danced from foot to foot. When he judged her little cheeks to be sufficiently reddened he let her up, sniffling and whimpering. He took his belt and swung it back and forth against the back of her thighs. His left hand rested on her shoulder as he did so, ostensibly to steady her, but soon he slid it down to her chest, and commenced to knead and work her little breast buds and nipples through her thin blouse. She moaned and writhed. He moved around to her front, smacking her slender thighs with the belt as she cried out. His other hand cupped and massaged her tender bottom. He stripped her of her shift, leaving her naked, a pretty little pre-tween hobbit girl fully exposed in front of a grown man. He drank in the sight of her, trembling, nipples erect but barely breaking the plane of her chest, tears in her eyes, her face like an angel in despair. Her unfledged cleft peeped shyly from between her slender thighs. He swung the belt across her breast buds, bringing fresh cries to her lips and a fetching red glow to her nipples. Then he snapped it repeatedly across her mons, as she nearly screamed from the intensity of her punishment. He swept her up in his arms and held her close for a while, as she burrowed her face into his shirt, shivering with anxiety and passion. He laid her down upon his bed, and kissed her all over: forehead, glabellas, the tip of her nose, spending time at her sweet lips, then nibbling her neck, sliding down to her nipples, sucking and biting them as she writhed and moaned, slipping down to her navel where he blew a flurbish, bringing a giggle to her lips which he mock-squelched with a 'stern' command and a sharp slap to her thighs, then suddenly there, essentially raping her with his mouth, pressing firmly against her abused cleftlips, probing to her hymen, then seizing her clitoris in a long, excruciating bite between tongue and teeth that left her bucking, sobbing, nearly yelling, and finally beginning to come. As she did so he suddenly stood, seized the belt and brought it down sharply onto her gleaming, reddened girlcleft. She gave a short scream and bucked wildly, yipping and yelping as he repeatedly disciplined her on her underdeveloped sex, as she came and came and came. A few days later they were married in the Gate. Her age did not provoke as much comment as we might think nowadays; after all, most girls of the Big People were married by the time they were thirteen, anyway. And in the frontiers of Eregion no one was liable to question what anyone did with a little hobbit-girl, in any event. Because of her size, he was concerned for her safety once they became more...intimate. He prepared a series of instruments, designed to simulate an erect male member, of increasing size culminating in one about the size of the penis of an aroused 12-year old boy of the Big People. During her discipline sessions, he would lubricate one and thrust it into her anus as she yelped, then fasten it with a slim chain that passed between her legs and around her waist so that she could not easily expel it with internal efforts. He required her to wear it all day, only removing it when she told him she needed to relieve herself. After she was done in the 'necessary', he would put her in the tub. The Man would clean her well, scrubbing her nipples, anus, cleft, and clitoris with a rough terry washcloth. She would squirm away from his ministrations, so he would sternly order her, "Hold still, young lady!" and spank her wet thighs, bottom, anus, and cleft, as she would sob, "Oh, Sir, please, I'll hold still! Please, Sir, please!" Finally he would release her, and resume her cleaning. She would shiver and moan, but hold still as he scrubbed her intimate parts. When he was satisfied with her cleanliness, he would replace the dilator, working it in and out of her little rosebud a few times as she yelped, then leave it deeply within her, and refasten the chain. Out of the tub, he would towel her off and swat her on the bottom as he would send her back to the main room for more sweet, sexual discipline, finally driving her to a noisy punishment-orgasm. Finally there came the day when he had completed the preparation of the little hobbit-girl's bottomflower. That night he punished her again, her sweet, slender body swaying from the intensity, little nipples, bottom, cleft, even her anus feeling the sting of the belt as she crouched in knee-chest position on his bed, deeply embarrassed to know that her pudenda was fully exposed to the Man's gaze and the administration of strict, intimate discipline. As he whipped her, he reached under her and seized her cleftlips and clitoris, pinching and twisting them, pressing her pleasure button excruciatingly against her pubic bone. Soon she was bucking and rocking, moaning and crying out, yipping and yiping as she came and came. He could hold back no longer. Smearing spit on his rampant rod, he stretched his full Man's form over the little hobbit-girl's tiny frame. He poised his tool at her bottomflower, then thrust forcefully and deeply through her rosebud, raping her of the virginity of her anus as she screamed. After the first thrust he halted for a moment, holding her slim shoulders and kissing her hair, until her distress died down to the occasional sob and sniffle. After a bit he resumed her punishment-rape, pounding into her rear passageway rhythmically as she yelped, reaching around to seize and molest her cleft and clitoris. Soon she was climaxing again, even as he poured his hot seed into her abused rectum. They collapsed on the bed together. He held her close, whispering to her of his love, as she melted into his arms, sobbing out the last of her pre-tween orgasm, and the reaction to her punishment and rape. Soon she was asleep. So began their long, wonderful time together. For years she would remain much the same, for she would not resemble even a teenager of the Big People in her level of development until she was well into her 'tweens, and she would never be taller than a preteen of the Big People. Even though he was of only average size himself, his rod was massive compared to her tiny cleft. To avoid damaging her, he refrained from raping her of her maidenhead for many years, limiting himself to disciplining her to orgasm, then raping her anus nearly nightly as she cried out hoarsely. Only when she was almost 'of age', as they would say in The Shire, did he finally take her fully. By then her breasts, while small, were well developed, and he devoted strict attention to disciplining them with the belt as she keened. He did not allow her to retain her pubic hair, of course. On the night he finally took her fully, he whipped her thoroughly, breasts, buttocks, thighs, anus, vulva, and clitoris as she moaned and yelped. He fastened his mouth upon her sex and quickly drove her to a noisy orgasm. Squirting some lubricant on his rampant rod, he raised his Man's form over her little hobbit frame, still no bigger than that of a 10-year-old girl of the Big People, poised his tool at her cleft, then rammed it balls deep with one stroke, raping her of her maidenhead, driving for her cervix as she spasmed and screamed under him. He waited, caressing her tenderly and soothingly, until her wild cries and writhing had stilled to coos and little tremors, then proceeded to rape her in earnest, long, insistent strokes, rocking her forcefully, pinning her to the bed, bringing cry after cry to her lips, until finally she was over the top again, giving voice to the intensity of her passion. Even after the wave of sexual release had passed, he continued to punish her with quick, hard thrusts for a few more minutes as she sobbed, until he deigned to empty himself at her cervix. Then he collapsed on the bed next to her, shifting his weight to one side so as not to crush her little form, holding her and kissing her as she clung to him and kissed him back, delighting in their love together. And they lived happily ever after. The End By cc All comments gratefully welcomed!