THE KINDLY DR. NOSTRA

BY CC

For 'Nostradamus'

SMACK-SMACK-SMACK! "OOO! OOO! OOO!" The little preteen girl cried
out as the paddle came down smartly on her bare bottom. Dr.
Nostra knew how best to spank a child. Each stroke was sharp, yet
somehow gentle at the same time. He never left a mark more
intense than a mild redness that faded slowly, yet he spanked
soundly, with loud smacks, and wild cries from each transgressor
brought for his ministrations.

A steady stream found its way into his office. The bulk were from
the local orphanage, close by his office, whose understaffed,
underpaid, and somewhat lazy personel found it easier to simply
deposit any of their charges determined to be erring on his
doorstep so that the kindly Dr Nostra could administer whatever
punishment he deemed fit. His current 'victim' had failed to make
her bed to matron's satisfaction. The doctor did not entirely
approve of the over-strict rules, but he enjoyed his avocation
too much to refuse to oblige when punishment was requested. Plus,
he feared that any alternative to his ministrations would be even
harder on this child, and the others brought to him for similar
infractions. He finished the little girl's discipline with a
final swat, then enfolded her in a gentle hug, rocking and
soothing her, rubbing her reddened bottom, as she melted into his
arms, tears staining his shirt. The little hugs she gave him back
bespoke of an accepting, even forgiving attitude towards him for
the spanking he had meted out to her. He let her little shift
fall back over her buttocks and sent her on her way, suitably
chastened, back to the institution.

How did this arrangement, so curious, yet so satisfying to all
concerned, begin? He had originally arrived in the village, a
small, out-of-the-way community in rural ***-ania, with a mission
group for medium-term service, opening a clnic for which he was
the main, and often the only, staff. The rest of the missionaries
left after planting the local church, but he decided to stay. He
seemed to fit in, speaking the language fluently, if with a
distinct American accent. There was a great need for a competent,
caring physician, and he certainly was that. He also, mostly
unbeknownst to the villagers, was independently wealthy, and he
stocked the clinic at his own expense, such that the quality of
medical care in the village was substantially above that found in
similar towns in the backwards nation. Antibiotics, vaccines,
antihypertensives, insulin, local and general anesthesia, as well
as general surgery and obstetrics, all were now available at
nearly Western standards, thanks to Dr Nostra.

He was perhaps middle-aged, tall and somewhat thin, with
distinguished features and graying hair. There was a hint of
tragedy about him, although none in the village, and no one even
on the missionary team, knew his background...

"Oh, 'Daddy', please, please!" his 'little girl' would beg,
fetchingly. But to no avail. He brought the paddle down again and
again, smacking her bare bottom as she yelped and moaned. She lay
across his lap, kicking and wriggling. The paddle was leather,
supple, well-worn but well-cared-for, intricately embroidered. It
was almost an heirloom, having been used on his bottom, and his
mother's bottom before him. He suspected that his father had used
it on his wife, Dr Nostra's mother, her father having given it to
her husband on their wedding day as a honeymoon gift.

"Hold still, young lady!" he commanded sternly, and swatted her
gleaming thighs as she keened. When he judged her buttocks to be
sufficiently reddened, he flipped her over on his lap, raising
the paddle high.

Her eyes widened, and she cried out, "'DaddyDaddy'
pleasepleaseplease, do I haveta be paddled on my cleft! O,
'Daddy', I'm only ten!" but to no avail. He brought the stinging
implement to bear sharply upon her mons and vulva, reddening her
sweet little sex as she wailed and jerked with each WAK! His free
hand roamed over her chest, pinching and twisting her little
nipples.

After amusing himself in this fashion for a while, he slid her
off his lap, and arranged her in knee-chest position as she
trembled, whimpering, "W-whuttya gonna do to me, 'Daddy'?" He
stood, towering over her, and ran his hands in to her private
parts. She yipped and yiped as he molested her with lubricated
fingers, piercing, penetrating, and probing her tender, delicate
anus with first one, then two, then finally three fingers. His
other hand pinched and twisted her cleft lips and clitoris. She
writhed in his grasp as he kneaded and worked her nakedness.
Finally he could hold back no longer. He pressed the end of his
rampant rod against her lubricated anus, and thrust forcefully,
raping her bottomflower, driving to the hilt as she screamed and
arched. He pounded into her, reaching around to seize and molest
her clitoris. Soon she was crying out hoarsely, bucking her hips
in time to his thrusts, finally climaxing violently even as he
poured his hot seed into her rectum. He collapsed over her as
they lay panting on the bed.

Then he and his wife headed to the bathroom for a much-needed
shower!

His life was a dream. He had inherited a fair bit of money. He
had a thriving practice in a good community, with theater,
recreation, and a good church all nearby, and best of all, a
beautiful young wife. And not only was she cute and sexy, but she
willingly threw herself into his sexual fantasies, dark as some
might have found them to be. She wisely decided not to fight his
tendencies, but to try and satisfy them. To do that, she assumed
the role of his 'preteen daughter' in their sexplay, receiving
sexual punishment at his hands, that, as time went on, excited
her more and more, until she yearned each day to feel his paddle
smacking her thighs or bottom, his hands firmly seizing her
cleft, his hard rod driving deep into her anus, as she screamed
and called him 'Daddy', pretending to be his ten-year- old
daughter getting raped of the virginity of her anus.

But it all ended so soon, so soon...

A sudden illness, all his medical abilities of no use, nothing to
be done. She was gone in 6 months. He was vacant, bereft, wiped
out, for nearly a year. He stumbled through the motions of
pursuing his practice, but the heart was gone out of it. He had
to get away.

Through his denomination he found the missionary group going to
***ania. He through himself into the task of setting up the
clinic, moved by the depictions of the poverty of the area, the
desperate need, the adorable children waiting for his aid...

He hung the paddle on the wall of his clinic office. If asked
about it, he would only say, "It's for naughty little boys and
girls." It wasn't long before the matron of the nearby orphanage
asked him if he would consider using it on her charges. She had
some vague idea that a physician would know how to punish a child
'scientifically and safely'. He didn't try to disabuse her of
this curious notion. And so the string of little boys and girls
coming to him for punishment began. Some of the parents of the
community, mostly single mothers with no husband to assume the
task, followed suit.

Stateside this would have been unheard of. Even in ***-ania it
would have been remarked upon, if he had had any staff. But he
ran the clinic alone, since the rest of the group had left,
enlisting whatever aid he needed for surgeries on an adhoc basis.
So there was no nurse or receptionist to wonder about the
propriety of the physician paddling the local youngsters.

The children themselves viewed the affair with some ambivalence.
Dr Nostra was well-liked by them for his gentleness, friendly
manner, warm hands, and welcoming smile. He never talked down to
them or ignored them. And as for the punishment, well, he was not
brutal; his paddle stung, but no more than that. And he nearly
always gave each child he disciplined some treat or other, such
as a piece of candy or gum. Often he gave a small toy, such as a
truck, doll, or stuffed animal, to the sweeter children, who were
the ones he thought had been particularly unjustly condemned to
his ministrations.

This went on for some time, providing substantial amusement
(along with frustration!) for Dr Nostra. In truth, the activities
had so awakened him to life that he was considering moving on,
finding another wife, settling down again. Then something
happened...

She was just a girl, like all the rest. Perhaps nine, slender,
dark-haired, cute; but then, many of the little girls in ***-ania
were attractive. She shuffled in, propelled through the door by a
push from one of the under-Matrons, who closed the door and left
the girl for her punishment, glad to be relieved of her charge
for a time so that she could smoke a cigarette in peace.

"Come here, little one," Dr Nostra commanded, but quietly. She
sidled up and stood before him, head down, twisting her hands
together, turning her toes in as she squirmed a bit. She was new
to Dr Nostra. "What's your name?" he inquired.

"K-Katya," she whispered, peeping up at him through her lowered
lashes. "Sir!" she hastily remembered to add.

"What did you do, to earn this punishment?"

"I-I didn't do my sums right, Sir," she answered, miserably. Dr
Nostra sighed. This was not his idea of an offence deserving of
real punishment. As he often did in such cases, he determined to
give the little girl only a token paddling, barely reddening her
bottom.

"Over my lap, young lady!" he ordered, and tipped her face down
onto his knees. He tossed the hem of her shift up and pulled her
panties down to her knees. SMACK-SMACK-SMACK! went the ancient
paddle as she squirmed and yelped. But, true to his intentions,
he wasn't spanking her hard. Twenty smacks later he was done,
putting the paddle down, gently rubbing her little bottom to
soothe her, as he pulled her up to sit on his lap, cuddling her
and comforting her. A few tears leaked out, staining his shirt,
but mostly she just melted into his arms. It came to him that
this girl was starved for affection, little of it being available
at the orphanage. He rocked her back and forth, humming a soft
tune in her ears. Finally she turned and startled him with a big
hug, then slipped off his lap and ran for the door.

In the weeks that followed he saw her a few more times, but not
for punishment. She was sent to him for minor complaints:
earache, sore throat, a cough. As usual, no orphanage personnel
accompanied her. She sat quietly, eyes downcast, on the exam
table, as he puttered about collecting whatever equipment he
required for the visit, peeping shyly at him through her
eyelashes. He never actually found her to be ill.

He wondered, a bit, what was going on with her. At the end of the
last of a string of such visits she finally plucked up enough
courage to say, "D-Dr Nostra?"

"Yes, sweetheart, what is it?" he answered.

"...Nuthin'!" she turned shyly away.

"Little one, you can ask me anything; it's OK. Go ahead, Katya,
what do you want?" he looked intently but gently into her sweet
face.

"Would you...can I...I need a spankin'!" she finally blurted out,
then blushed and crouched down, hiding her face in her hands.

Dr Nostra was struck dumb for a moment. He had never had any
youngster ASK for a paddling before! He knelt down and asked the
little preteen, "Did matron send you over for punishment?" She
shook her head. He picked her up and held her on his lap. She
pasted herself against his chest, trembling. "Did you do
something wrong?" he inquired. She hung her head even lower, but
shook it, no. "Do you really want a spanking?" he asked. She
didn't look up, but, after a beat, she nodded her head, almost
violently. He was in a daze. He could barely believe this was
happening, and he didn't want to ask the next question: why.
So...

"Then it's a spanking you'll get, young lady!" he announced, and
gently but firmly shifted her to lie across his knees. He tossed
up the hem of her shift, and stopped in amazement for a moment:
she wore no panties! He couldn't help himself; his hand moved of
its own accord to caress and squeeze the firm-soft globes of her
little bottom, so smooth and tender, kneading and working them,
pulling them apart to expose her tiny rosebud. Then,
SMACK-SMACK-SMACK! he began her spanking with his bare hand,
lovingly but firmly disciplining the young girl. She shivered and
yipped. After a while he reached up and snagged the paddle off
the wall, and WHAP-WHAP-WHAP! went the tool on her buttocks.
"AAA-AAA- AAA!" she cried out at the sting as her rear end was
reddened even more.

Finally he judged it to be enough. He put the paddle down and
gently rubbed her bottom, now hot from the paddling, as she
whimpered and squirmed at his touch, but quieted quickly as he
continued to soothe her. As he caressed her, he occasionally let
his fingers stray...

After a while she squirmed up, sat on his lap, and threw herself
against him in a fierce hug. Then she dashed out the door. He
stared after her in a daze. He went through the next day's work
as if in a trance, hardly daring to even remember what had
happened, let alone hope for a repetition. But, at the end of the
day, there Katya was again, peeking around the door. She slipped
in and sidled up to him, still shy, head down, twisting her hands
together and fidgeting nervously.

"Hello, Katya," Dr Nostra said, in a pleasant, neutral tone, and
waited. He didn't want to presume anything, and he was intensely
curious to see what she would do next.

"Would you sp....." her voice trailed off into an inaudible
mutter.

"Speak up, Katya, I couldn't hear you," Dr Nostra insisted.

"...spank me again," he finally made out.

"Do you need another paddling?" he asked, almost holding his
breath. After a moment's hesitation, she just nodded, and headed
for his lap. Over she went, and again he gave her a sound
spanking, with bare hand and the paddle. A soothing rub
afterwards, a quick hug from the little girl, and again she was
out the door. As the days went by she came nearly every day, and
somehow, to Dr Nostra's continuing delight, managed to stammer
out her desire for a spanking.

This went on for a few weeks. After the next three or four
spankings, Dr Nostra began to alter the sequence somewhat. When
he soothed her bottom afterwards, he became a little bolder each
time, slipping his fingers down, down, until finally he was
tracing along her anus and girlcleft after every spanking. Her
little sex actually moistened under his ministrations, and,
though she never actually came, she seemed close to it at times,
eyes half closed, breath short, hips moving rhythmically.

There came a day when, after spanking her bottom for a while, he
rolled her over on his lap and raised the paddle. She stared at
it, eyes wide, a gasp coming to her lips, then SWAK-SWAK-SWAK! he
brought it down three times in quick succession onto her
unfledged girlcleft as she jerked and yelped. Then he tossed it
aside and gathered her into his arms, stroking and caressing her
as her tears stained his shirt and her little sobs died away. Any
anxiety he might have had about her reaction to getting a
front-spanking was assuaged when she gave him her usual fierce
hug, and even skipped a bit as she headed out the door!

After that he moved things along expeditiously. Instead of just
putting her over his lap, he began having her stand up, holding
her shift to her waist when it was time for her punishment. She
looked so gorgeous, a little angel in despair, as she awaited
discipline. Heartbreakingly slender, her unfledged girlcleft
peeping out from between her gleaming thighs. After reddening her
thighs and bottom, he would move to her front and deliver a few
smacks onto her mons and immature vulva with the paddle as she
writhed and moaned. Soon after that he began to make her strip
naked for her spankings, blushing sweetly to the tips of her
little breasts, no more than buds that barely broke the plane of
her chest. He would put her in knee-chest position on the exam
table, marveling at the sight: a pretty little preteen in a
doctori's office, her bottom raised in the air, sweet little
rosebud clenching in the breeze, her unfledged cleftlips and
prominent clitoris below a scrumptious spectacle as she awaited
his paddle. He brought it slapping down onto her private parts,
cry after cry rising from her lips. As he paddled her, he slipped
his free hand around her waist and underneath her, as if to
steady her. His fingers probed in to her cleft, seizing her
clitoris, pinching and pulling, twisting and pressing, as he
continued her discipline. Her cries became more and more
impassioned, her jerking under the paddle more pronounced, until,
to Dr Nostra's deep satisfaction, she clearly orgasmed, yipping
and yelping, pressing her underaged quim against his molesting
hand as he spanked her to climax.

When she was finally spent, he swept her into a hug, her little
arms wrapped around his neck and her slender legs around his
waist, her face buried in his neck, her tears staining his
collar, as he rocked her back and forth, crooning to her and
rubbing her bottom. After a while he sat down with her, and held
her a bit away, looking intently into her eyes. "Little one, what
if I were to adopt you? Would you like that?" Her face blossomed
with one of her rare smiles, lighting up the room.

"Can I, really? That'd be great!!" she exclaimed.

So it was settled. It took a bit of paperwork, more time, and
even more money to the right parties, but eventually she was
officially his daughter. From then on she was in the office with
him every day, and despite her tender age learned quickly to be
his assistant, for she was a bright little girl. But this
arrangement afforded many opportunities for her to fall short in
some minor way or other, rendering her liable for another session
with the paddle. Dr Nostra made sure to find a reason to
discipline her nearly every day, and most of those times
succeeded in bringing her again to a yipping and yelping orgasm
as he spanked her. Often she deliberately disobeyed in some
inconsequential way, then whispered in his ear, "I need a
spankin', Daddy!"

He continued to advance her punishments, also. He made sure to
have an open container of K-Y handy during her discipline
sessions, and, having sent her to the bathroom beforehand, he
soon was piercing, penetrating, and probing her anus with first
one, then two and even three lubricated fingers, while he paddled
her clitoris and unfledged cleftlips. She bucked and writhed in
his hands, her little rosebud clenching spasmodically around the
invading hand. Dr Nostra revelled in the feel of probing a little
preteen's anus, so tender and soft, so sweet and virginal, while
he spanked her naked private parts and drove her to climax.

Of course all of this stimulation, while delightful in one sense,
was enormously frustrating in another for the kindly doctor.
Finally he sat her down one day and told her he was thinking of
getting married. Her reaction was to screw her cute little face
into a typical preteen 'yuck' expression, and to exclaim, "Waddya
wanna do that for? Daddy?" she remembered to add.

"Well, a man likes to have a woman around, to help him, and keep
him company, and...other things," he added, lamely.

"But I kin help you, and I can keep you company,
and...and...anything else a wife kin do. I wanna be your wife,
can't I? Please, Daddy?" she begged, cocking her head up at him
fetchingly.

He looked at her, seriously. This was going as he had hoped, but
he wanted to make sure she knew what she was getting herself
into. "Little Katya," he asked, solemnly, "Do you know what that
would mean?"

The little preteen ducked her head for a moment, then, peeping up
at him through her eyelashes, whispered, "It means you get to
rape me, don't it?"

"'Doesn't it'," he corrected, automatically, but his mind was in
a daze, so astonished to receive from her this question, which
hung between them, revolving lazily. A jolt of...joy, so strong
as to be almost nauseating, shot through him.

She mistook his pallor, sweat, and unsteadiness for disapproval.
She jumped to her feet, tears springing to her eyes, and cried
out, "I know, you don't want me, cuz I'm just little and not sexy
like big girls!" and she stumbled off towards her room, weeping.

Dr Nostra had never been a fast runner, but he could have beaten
any track star to her side that day! He gathered her in his arms,
and held her, rocking her back and forth, and told her how much
he loved her, that he desired her more than anyone else, that she
was the most beautiful, sweet, and sexy little girl he'd ever
known, and similar endearments. She melted against him, content.

The right money to the right people quickly gained them a
marriage license and a willing priest, and by that evening they
were married. He took her home and swept her up in a hug that
went on forever, rocking her back and forth, reveling in the feel
of her slender preteen frame in his arms.

After a little while, she relaxed her hold on him, got on her
tiptoes, and whispered in his ear, "I need a spankin', Daddy!"