The Perfect Beginning Ch. 03

Literotic asexstories – The Perfect Beginning Ch. 03 by KimberlyGirl,KimberlyGirl
This is the 3rd installment of an ongoing story about Michele a and Tim. For sure, it is a disturbing relationship and is in no way intended to describe something healthy or ideal. Emotional sadism is central to it all. If this bothers you, this is not the story for you and I suggest you venture elsewhere.

What makes the story interesting to me is what takes place in the minds of the characters. Withouts words and ideas and the feelings that go with them, it’s all just mechanics and honestly, that’s not so interesting to me. Simple, pure fucking is a great thing to do. I don’t need to read about it. Perhaps when I was verrrrrrrry young, that alone wold have intrigued me. Now…yawn. This is a dark, emotional journey. I hope you enjoy it.

The following preface is cut and pasted from installment II. For a more comprehensive understanding of their world, you can venture back to the first installment. Read it or skip it.

This story takes place in a very male dominant society, one which is even more patriarchal than our own. Our hero, Michele, is enchanted by the discovery of her own sexual super power. Poor, lucky Tim, on the other hand comes to realize that he falls under Michels’s spell, he does not measure up to societal expectations. These two young people are discovering and becoming as they grow together as a couple.

Psychological conflict and tension are central themes in this saga.

*

The story has been formatted to meet the publishing requirement of our host and I am hopeful the necessary kinks have been worked out.

A more complete preface can be found at the beginning of the first installment and if you did not read it, it could be helpful to do so. Here are some of the contextual parameters of the fictional world the story takes place within.

* People are legal adults at 18 years of age.

* People usually live to about 2,000 years of age.

* The cultural norm has almost all legal adults living with their family of origin until they turn 200 years old.

* Young people between the ages of 18 and 200 are treated as and referred to as children when they choose to continue living with their parents.

* Young people between the ages of 18 and 200 often behave much as we would expect teenagers to behave here in our world. They are kept in a state of arrested emotional development.

* Young people between the ages of 18 and 200 years customarily consume “blockers” which prevent them from having sexual feelings or impulses.

* Often young people will begin to “date” around 160 yers of age and while they are expected to continue to take their blockers, some will surreptitiously stop taking them while a few will stop responding to them.

* Age and masculinity are revered in this world. Everybody looks up to their elders and few seriously question the patriarchy.

All characters in the story are over 18 years of age.

It is customary for those below the age of 200 to demonstrate their status by wearing clothing which signify to others that they are off limits. They would wear what we would think of as children’s clothing. Remember, an 18 year old and a 1,900 year old would look exactly the same age, so children’s clothes are very useful for signaling to those over 200 years to abstain from any romantic or sexual pursuit of another who was deemed of an inappropriate age.

Lastly, sex is not technically illegal for people between the ages of 18 and 200 years. It is considered profoundly taboo. Adult-children (18+) do have sex but it is kept very quiet. Some parents punish their children for engaging in this sinful pleasure and adult-children almost never tell-on one another in this regard, even those who might not like one another. Adult children live by a code and violation of said code subjects one to complete ostracization. Almost none experiment until they are well over 160 years old.

From that day on, Michele had Tim between her legs at minimum once a day.  Often she used Tim two or three times a day. Sometimes more. The orgasms were amazing and truly life changing for her. 

And like her mother, Michele came to notice how it changed her mood and her behavior.  Regular orgasms seemed to mellow her out so much and seemed to reduced a stress load she did not know she was carrying.  It occurred to her that orgasms were foundational to any romantic relationship.

Yet it was more than just the orgasms (though their importance should never be minimized), it was also finding a healthy way to channel her inner Bitch.  Now she had Tim.  She continued to share this part of herself with Tim when the mood came to her, and in doing so, no longer did she feel the urge to flash her inner bitch at friends and family. 

And the great thing was just how much she enjoyed sharing this part of herself with her boy. It truly felt wonderful to her when she could be a bitch, just a little mean to her boy. 

The relationship evolved to a point that Michele enjoyed a greater sense of harmony with her life.  For the first time she felt as though it was possible to more fully relax into her true nature and just be herself.  A lot of it had to do with the sense of freedom and authenticity she experienced with this expression.

She was able to live in the moment with her true self.  If she was light, sweet, generous and happy, this is what she projected to the world, including to Tim, and it was reflected in her behavior.  Not for a minute did she feel her dominance and control were in any way diminished by her expression of sweet, gentle love or apparent indifference to the established power hierarchy. 

On the other hand, if she was moody or feeling her Bitch, she simply fed Tim.  She knew Tim needed a strong girl to look up to and was profoundly and undeniably aroused by her bitchy side.  She could not explain why, but sometimes she just felt like being a bitch.  So she became the Bitch-Goddess Tim prayed to. 

If she was in a dark mood, she could pour all her bitchiness into him and he’d eagerly open his mouth and drink it all in. Swallow, bitch, was a refrain she often heard spoken in her own mind after sharing with Tim in this way. And if it ended in tears, so be it.

When she trusted that she could be her honest, authentic self, the relationship would regulate itself.

Other days she enjoyed spoon feeding him her feminine cruelty with cutting, little remarks to either belittle him or play on his insecurities.  She could boss him around, speak down to him, tease him, mock him, dismiss him or ignore him and all the while, she knew she was giving him something he needed.  

And in doing so, in sharing this way, she felt better about herself. When she stomped on his manhood, strangled the life out of his confidence and made him cry, she was free to enjoy her own exquisite pleasure in this along with an honest sense of selfless generosity. When she smiled happily into his tear streaked face, when she stoked all his desperate fear, when she made him know in his heart that he really was not good enough for her, she took satisfaction in knowing how good it all was for him.

She liked having a boy she could kick in the balls and he found his value in the world when she allowed him to be that boy for her to kick. And then when she shared her affection, when she generously shared her validation, she’d watch him float to heaven with relief and joy. Smiling or crying, his arousal was always on display.

I’m just giving the boy what he needs.

Michele was so far beyond smug.

And the gift she gave made her feel so good. Rarely did she take it for granted simply because it was so spiritually invigorating doing and saying the things she said while knowing it was devastating his sense of self, all but obliterating his ego. Without fail, it put her in a better mood. It made her happy.

She did not notice it, but sometimes she wasn’t even in a dark mood but she could find those feelings easily. She could channel her darker side because the motivation was so easy to find. If she thought about what she was doing, she’d realize that she did this to go from a good mood to a better mood. A better mood was always there to be enjoyed when she had her boy to work on.

As she saw it, it was very good for their relationship because it was so intimate and it was an intimacy she saved just for Tim. She got to share a side of herself with Tim that nobody else even knew about. And in this way, with Michele sharing her tender cruelties, they bonded more completely as their needs and preferences seemed to match perfectly.

And through it all, even in the middle of putting him in his place, he’d beg to go down on her!  Nothing seemed to end a day more perfectly than unleashing her inner Bitch on Tim, making him cry and then letting him lick her. 

In the end, during and/or after her orgasm, she always shared her affection so that Tim became settled and bonded once more.  It struck her as a perfect reciprocity as each got from it exactly what they needed.  Interestingly, metaphorically stepping on Tim’s balls fueled a high octane passion between the two while also it took the edge off her day and brought them closer together. 

She felt as though it balanced her hormonally and emotionally.  

Tim was never more in touch with his affection for Michele than after they shared this dark, bonding, therapeutic ritual. The emotional relief and connection he felt when Michele allowed him to make her cum brought with it a flood of tranquility, joy and gratitude.

He was always there to lick the hand that slapped him, always eager and grateful to delight and amuse his young master.

And to be sure, Tim needed to be with her light, sweet and kind side too.  He could not have endured, nor would he have wanted to if all she was to him was a hard bitch.

In this way, Michele experienced the totality of Tim’s love.  She knew he loved everything about her as every dark corner and alley way of her mind was made known to her and then to him.

Michele really cared about Tim and though she sometimes, and naturally, objectified him sexually, she also loved him.  She was settled with the understanding that he was not just a sex toy, servant, he was also her sweet boy whom she loved.  

*

Dear Michele,

Like, realizing something. Spanking is all by itself, The Thing. Amazing.

It accomplishes so many things for us. It’s a teaching and learning tool, it’s a bonding thing, it’s a ceremony. It’s sex. It’s a wellbeing thing (puts me in the best mood ever!) It’s a give take thing too. We both give to the ceremony of it and we both get so much from it. The Ultimate.

Now we have Tim going down on me. And it gives us all the same things: it’s a ceremony that bonds us and I even think it could be used to teach Tim. Like, if I took it from him, it would be a punishment for him. SMUG!

But it’s like these two things compliment each other so amazingly well. Like, I give him a spanking and then he goes down and gives me a kiss. Both things are seriously perfect all on their own, but when brought together…! Wow. Like a peanut butter and chocolate thing.

He needs this so badly. I think I have my own little religion: The Church of Michele! Pop! We’ve created the perfect ceremonies of sacrifice and worship. Oh my God! Yes, yes, The Church of Me!

On occasion she’d hear herself, objectively view what she did and said to Tim and was appalled. She really did want what was best for him and at times when she felt guilty about how she treated him, she reminded herself that on some deep level, he needed it.

Tim reminded her of a certain kind of girl that she’d seen portrayed numerous times on TV and a few times in real life.  There seemed to be a certain kind of girl who was attracted to the abusive guy, a jerk who in no way loved his girl.  He’d treat her like shit, maybe slapped her around and used her sexually.  She’d cry and seek consolation from her friends, but she ALWAYS went back to him. 

Tim was like this, a true Kimberly, except Michele did not abuse Tim at all. 

Of course she smacked her bitch up and used him sexually but the real difference was that she loved him.  Sure she spanked him, slapped him and made him cry, and really enjoyed doing it, but she was just giving him what he needed and did so with love; and it turned out she had a lot to give. 

Besides, even if she was kind of the boss in the relationship, she was only sometimes a Bitch.  Most of the time, they were just a very affectionate couple…with her in charge.  As long as Tim was deferential and appropriately servile, she was often sweet and in light spirits.

Why she was a Bitch was not clear to her. What was clear however, was that she was so glad she had Tim in her life.  They seemed to be two halves of a perfect circle.  Unleashing this side of herself was healthy as it kept it from areas of her life where it did not belong, like with her mother for example. 

And for her, there was true pleasure in sharing.

For Tim it was an aphrodisiac.  It had as much to do with his attraction to a girl as did the cut of her cheekbone, the shape of her nipple or the cleavage of her bottom.  He did not know why he was so attracted to it, but it aroused him to no end.  In fact, the drama and swirl of emotion aroused Tim intensely.  It turned them both on.  

She knew she did not really need a “reason”, but it was always more fun to go after Tim when she had one.  She loved physically going after him in the house, it made her feel like a huntress.  It was fun to stalk him and back him into a wall or a corner as she expressed her displeasure.  It was so exciting to see this big, strong man wince and cower before her. 

“Where’s my big, strong man, huh?  Scared of a little girl?”

Slapping him was exquisite!  It was fun when after slapping him, he’d cower and with a big sadistic smile, mock concern, real affection and big doe-eyes, she’d carefully, gently and lovingly, pull his hand away from his face…and then slap him hard across the cheek again. 

Working over someone bigger and stronger than Michele made her feel so emotionally and spiritually powerful and aroused! 

She’d thrill at seeing his wide eyed fear, “Is little Timmy scared?” she’d taunt. Then happily, she’d slap him again. 

Whenever she unleashed her inner Bitch on Tim, he was awash in a dark vortex of emotion.  And of great significance to both of them was that he was rock hard when she did this to him and he was more attracted to her for it. 

Eventually she showered him with approval and he felt redeemed while bringing her to orgasm and once more winning her favor.  

Oh my god, I get to be this way whenever I want!  I feel like a little girl who’s daddy owns a candy store.  I get to be me!  Thank you God!

****

Dear Diary,

I’m seeing a pattern. 

Fist of all, feeling moody and being a Bitch are NOT the same thing.  Bitches are empowered to show their mood while the rest of the world is trying as hard as they can to hide it all inside.  The Bitch is who she is and she does as she does.  She knows who she is and gets to be herself. 

And it is a clear headed choice.  She knows she deserves to be this way, she deserves to be who she really is and that comes with a freedom. 

So, I’ll be in a mood and be a Bitch to Tim. 

GOD that feels GOOD.  Like everything about it feels good.  When a woman like me really owns who she is and has the freedom to share who she is…even when she’s in a mood, it’s just natural, good and right. 

Tim gets all submissive and turned on and scared. 

And then I really work him in some way.  It might be just with words but often I like to give him a little “physical therapy” (I’m so bad! 🙂 and then we make love. 

What is interesting is that Tim gets all scared and submissive and turned on all at once.  I’m finding that being a Bitch with Tim turns me on.  His fear might arouse me.  His submission might arouse me.  So now, I just get turned on being a Bitch (not always, but I do) because I know what it does to him and it affects me.  And it’s not always the instant physical turn on (though often it is) it’s also a spiritual turn on. 

Something deep within, something spiritual awakens when I share this with my boy.  Kinda neat. 

Sometimes it is real clear to me and that just thinking about being a Bitch to him can turn me on.  Other times it’s not exactly like I’m all horny or anything, but I just feel better being this way and I know my specialness is right there and all I have to do is take it and put it on like a favorite pair of shoes.  I like that. 

What I mean is that I feel like I have some control of it. 

One thing that is important to me though is not just being this way to have sex.  I found myself doing that the other day.  Not OK.  I want it to all be real, no pretend, no playing.  If I feel like a Bitch, I’m going to be a Bitch and if it leads to sex (eventually it usually does) then that’s great.  But I’m not going to be a Bitch just to have sex.  I don’t have to do that.  I can have either, any time I want and that’s the way it should be. 

Besides, I have a seriously big, sweet, happy, Little-Girl side too.  And I like to spoil my inner, Little-Girl.  This side of me is very sweet and happy, but oh so demanding!  SMUG!  BIG smiles 🙂 

That’s the thing: because I am a Bitch, because I truly own this part of myself, I can have whatever I want from my boy.  I can share my mean-girl side and take what I want, or I can be sweet and loving and take what I want.  Again, so SMUG and so HAPPY!  He yields to me.  I get what I want.

****

How she expressed this part of who she was varied.  Sometimes she simply ignored him.  Other times she enjoyed “putting him in his place.”  She’d take issue with something he said and took him to task for it.  Sometimes Tim said something inappropriate as was often the case with immature boys.  Just as often she intentionally took something Tim said out of context, twisted its meaning or simply pretended not to understand his intention.  And then she’d verbally undress him.  

Though Tim quickly learned that defending himself through explanation often made things worse, it was hard to hold back when he was being accused of something he did not do or intend.  She just seemed so unreasonable.

Perhaps what she most enjoyed, what offered her instant satisfaction was belittling him, cutting away at his confidence.  Michele did not even know when the mood was coming.  Before, she felt she was emotionally a little out of control, but now she had the freedom to flow with her moods and doing so just made her feel powerful and pretty.

*

“You have to admit, Tiffany is pretty lucky.”

“What do you mean?”

“Brad is super hot.  I’d kind of like to get to know him.”  Michele smiled and watched Tim.

“God, Michele, what the fuck!”  

“Oh relax, I’m just kidding.  And watch your language, little boy.”

“You know, sometimes I can’t believe you!  You need to learn how to speak to me.  I don’t know if I want to be in a relationship with someone who talks to me like that.”

Laughing at his reactions, “Oh please, you need to learn how to take a joke.  Stop being so emotional,” she said, casually dismissing his pain.

Already she felt the stirrings of arousal.

He absolutely hated being trivialized like that.  Angrily, “You can’t talk to me that way, Michele!”

Not even looking at him and said almost sweetly, “Of course I can, Kimmy.” 

“Stop it!” he said shrilly.

“God, stop being such a prissy, little sissy,” she advised cheerfully.  “Who am I talking to, Kimberly or Tim!  You could at least try to be a man!  And if you can’t be a man, try to be a big girl.” she smiled happily. 

She simply adored minimizing his “hysterical” emotions. 

She knew enough about dysfunctional relationships to know that men often viewed women as “overly emotional” and frequently minimized their “out of control” reaction to slights offered by the man. 

In their case, turn about was fair play because she really loved Tim. This was not abuse, it was love. Michele was very clear on the matter: these conversations, no matter how challenging for Timmy, were an expression of love.

“I’m not being prissy.  I’m just saying that was mean and I don’t want to be spoken to like that.” 

Though he channeled tempered anger, Michele heard just a touch of apology in his tone.  It was the way a child expressed his anger to his mother when he felt he needed to stand up to her injustice but at the same time could not quite lose sight of his fear of her.

Suddenly in a dark mood, she sneered, “Oh my god, you are so sensitive!  Grow up!  And don’t you dare cry!”

“I’m not sensitive!  I just don’t like that.  And I’m not gonna…not gonna cra…cra…”

Interrupting him mid stutter, “Not sensitive?  Not ‘gonna cra…cra…cra…cry?  You’re a little crybaby, sissy-boy.  Is my little boy going to cry?  Are you going to cry again just because I can imagine being with someone else?  It’s not like I’ve done anything and I’m just being honest.  Maybe I do want him.  Maybe I do want a man.  Are you going to cry like always, Little-Miss-Sissy-Panties?”

Crying was not really a common occurrence and he was puzzled by the comment but also upset by it.  Yes, he’d cried a couple of times.

But I’m not a crybaby!  God, totally unfair!  I only sometimes cry… and I never used to. 

Tim had been nowhere near to tears…until she mentioned it.  Suddenly he was in touch with profound feelings of inadequacy and powerlessness.  Desperation and defeat informed his tone, “Stop it!  You can’t say that to me!” 

Oh my god, do not cry! Do NOT! 

His emotions were boiling over and he could feel the tears welling and hated himself.  He heard her laughing. 

Oh my god, do not cry! Please don’t cry.

“‘Stop it!'” she mocked in his exaggerated, baby voice. ‘”You can’t say that to me!'”  She laughed at his powerlessness. 

“Oh my goodness, here come the tears…again.”  She squeezed her thighs and experienced a sweet, little orgasm as she saw the first tears streak down his cheeks.

Do not cry, do not cry!  Please, please, please do not cry!  Oh my god!

Once more her tone shifted, revealing yet  another sudden mood swing.  Suddenly detached, almost bored, “Then go.  Actually, you know what…sometimes I just don’t think I want to deal with you anymore.” 

And there it was again, the ultimate power: the power to leave Tim.  “Maybe we should just break up.” 

By this point, Michele was pissed.  Deep down, Michele knew she was not really angry with Tim even though she channeled real anger.  That she could direct it at Tim and that he became more dependent on her for it, was however, wonderful.  It was beyond wonderful; she consciously thought it was beautiful and perfect.   

Michele loved that she could be mean, experience real anger all while becoming aroused.  She understood early on that Tim was aroused by her demonstrations of power and it created a reciprocity.  Being mean turned Michele on and she loved it.

“Come on Michele…I just…”

“If I wanted to date a little girl, I’d have hooked up with Tanya.  Actually, she’s way more mature than you and she’d smack your ass across this room.”

“No she wouldn’t.”  Tim instantly knew his retort was fool hearty and he regretted saying it.  Challenging Michele was the last thing he wanted to do.

Predictably, he took the bait and Michele’s eyes went dramatically wide with indignity.  In a steely tone, “Bring me the phone.  She will be here in ten minutes.  Actually I’d like to see this.  Oh my god, this will be good!  She totally knows what I do to you! Know for a fact that she’ll enjoy this! God, she’s gonna love it!” 

She sounded excited and eager for the show.  “Maybe I should make some popcorn.”

Now Tim was faced with a possible break up and the humiliation of Tanya seeing how they lived within the confines of Michele’s home.  In a flash, he wondered if Tanya would really slap him around.  Everything he knew about Tanya suggested she would.  And she’d like it. 

He already knew that if Michele really wanted it, he’d let her.  Tim quickly visualized, pretty, little Tanya laughing and totally marveling at the new found and totally unexpected ability to slap a man down to the ground.  He felt profound shame as he noticed his cock twitching of its own accord.  Suddenly it shot up to full mast.

“No…I…I didn’t mean it.  I…I…”

“Go cry in the kitchen, I don’t even want to look at you.”

Tim retreated to the kitchen and ruminated about the possibility of Michele leaving him.  He went from being angry with her to being suddenly terrified she’d leave him.  After about forty minutes, he came back to Michele in a completely different mood.  He was frightened and totally conciliatory.  “I’m sorry I upset you Ms. Michele.  I…I, just…I’m sorry.  I didn’t want to make you mad…”  

She was pleased with his desperation.  She deemed it suitable.  

“Ms. Michele, please forgive me.  It was all my fault.”  

She absolutely loved what the weight of her mood did to him.  She knew his contrition was absolutely genuine and he took full blame for her behavior.  

“What did you do wrong and how do you need to do it better next time?”

“I know you were just having fun and I need to learn how to take a joke.  I can’t be a sass-mouth…ever.  I know better than to use potty-talk.  I’m sorry.  I was wrong about everything and I’m so sorry.  Please forgive me.”

Her superior smirk made him feel small and weak, but he also recognized that it was the first shift towards her acceptance and his redemption. 

Thank god.

And that was how it usually went.  It was actually perfect for both of them: she’d belittle him, he’d attempt to speak to her about how he wanted to be treated, she’d suggest breaking up because he was “too much of a little girl,” or maybe go directly into slap-down mode and soon enough, he’d be apologizing to her.  She was mean and he’d be apologizing.  And if nothing else, she could always hook him with the “I was just kidding, can’t you take a joke” abuse used by so many emotional predators.  

After flashing the threat of ending the relationship, in time, Michele did not even have to say it anymore.  She’d planted the seed and the fear of being left by Michele was a flowering weed that had matured and grew in his mind.  

Often this pattern culminated in their most sacred ceremony with Tim bottom up over her knee.  Michele thought of these as tweener spankings on the scale of severity because they were in between a play spanking and a punishment spanking.  She’d land a handful of really hard ones and gradually dial down the force as she moved forward with the “gentle reminder,” at hand.  The message was clear: I can do this to you anytime I want to…anytime and for any reason.

After lowering his shorts and underwear to his knees, “Now you bend over my knee this instant.”  After gaining his compliance, “You know what, young man, sometimes I feel as though you are trying to upset me.  Is this your little game?”

“No, no, Ms. Michele!  I…I wasn’t!”

“Well, you have earned this one.”

SPANK      SPANK     SPANK   SPANK    SPANK    SPANK

Michele had become an expert at affecting and truly internalizing the role of the vexed and cross Mother to her exasperating son.  “Honestly, Timothy, I don’t know why I put up with this.”

SPANK      SPANK     SPANK   SPANK    SPANK    SPANK

It burned terribly and he had to just try to give into it.

“Do you really think I should have to put up with this nonsense?”

SPANK      SPANK     SPANK   SPANK    SPANK    SPANK

“No!  Owww  No, no, Ms. Michele.  No, Ma’am!”

SPANK      SPANK     SPANK   SPANK    SPANK    SPANK

“Young man, you are far too sensitive.  You need to learn how to take a joke.  I was obviously just teasing you.  I don’t want to be in one of those relationships where I feel like I can’t crack a joke every once in a while.  Honestly!  Goodness, just what am I going to do with you?”

Spank Spank Spank Spank Spank Spank Spank Spank Spank

“Teach me?”

“Teach you, I will.”

spank  spank  spank  spankspankspankspank…

Then she “let” him pleasure her.  As he pleased her, he was forgiven and found redemption.  For Tim, it was an erotic expression of gratitude in return for her guidance, forgiveness and for having taken him back.  With her approval, he discovered the floor once more beneath his feet.  He expressed his desperate and ever devoted love and she accepted, and all was right in the world once more.  They were an affectionate and by all accounts, loving, normal couple, once again.

****

Perhaps more often she played this game without getting angry at all.  She liked that she could get just as turned on being the light and breezy, yet oh so authoritarian, Happy Bitch.  She could enjoy herself and let her very real smile blaze as she used her words as the sharpest feline claws to work her boy…and be just as aroused as he was.

It was a Saturday and she was in her bathroom.  As Tim walked in, she was pulling on her cut off t-shirt.  Since there were no arms, it was easy to see her bikini top through the arm openings.  She went back to preening and ever so subtly pushed out her exquisitely shaped rear end.

Without giving him a glance, “Do I look pretty?”

“Of course you do, Michele.  You are the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen in my life.”

She appreciated that he truly meant what he said.  “Does my butt look good in these shorts?”

She was wearing the skimpiest Daisy Dukes.  They rode right up her ass and were cut just high enough that a little of her perfect, round, bubble butt was revealed.

“It’s perfect.”

She smiled knowing he was not talking about her shorts.  “Good, cause they always make me feel special.  “Special” was the word Michele liked to use to describe when she was sexually aroused.  “Would you like me to feel more special?”

“Yes!”

Michele laughed at his eagerness.  “Get down on your knees and I’ll let you just kind of pet me right here.”  She used her hand and rubbed it gently over her out thrust ass.

Tim complied with silent, mindless gratitude.  As he rubbed her ass, he could feel a gentle tingling in his cock and knew he’d better adjust his jeans to relieve the binding or he’d pass out…or cum.  

As she continued to primp, “That’s good.  I like feeling special.   Do you like when I feel special?”

“More than anything in the world.”

“Do you think I look prettier when I feel special?  Like, when I’m all completely special, do I look prettier?”

“Oh my god, yes!  You look so pretty!”  He thought of all the times while between her legs, he’d looked up at his Love just as her orgasm overtook her.  Nothing made him feel better about himself than her orgasm.  Nothing was more attractive than Michele’s face, with her eyes closed and her rapture contorting her lovely features.  As she floated back, he’d watch the smile come upon her and and the warmth of the sun shone down from above.  Michele’s arousal and satisfaction was by now permanently linked to his sense of self worth.

Just now, rubbing her ass was really getting to him and he had to bend slightly at the waist so as not to have a premie in his pants.

“Good, cause I’m going over to Cin and Tanya’s house for a little pool party.  I can’t wait.  John’s going to be over there and I want to look my prettiest.”

“What…who?”

“John, silly.  John Sizemore.  Oh my god, he’s so hot!”

John was in echelon 17 and a total alpha male, jock.  Though much bigger than him, Tim was sure he could kick the guy’s ass.

“But, Michele…” he said pleadingly.

“He’s such a stud!  Oh my god, he so completely, totally makes me feel special…just by thinking about him.  He’s the hottest guy I know.”  Suddenly she walked away, taking her perfect ass with her.  

Devastation began to set in.  

“Oh, don’t worry about your chores.  I’ve written them all down and put them on the kitchen table.  Why don’t you see if you can do something extra to surprise me when I get home,” she said with a cheerful smile.  

He remained stunned, on his knees as he watched her spectacularly beautiful bubble-bottom, wiggle its way out of her bedroom and in the next moment, out of the house.

Chores?  Something extra!  Fuck her! 

He was furious…yet he went nowhere. 

Is she really going to hook up with Dickhead-John?  Fuck her…and him.  Gonna kick his ass! 

He continued to go nowhere. 

Fuck it, I guess we are through. 

And still, he went nowhere. 

Extra?  I’m not doing shit!  

As he calmed down and his anger ebbed away, he was left to wonder about life without Michele.  Rubbing her butt was the most erotic thing he’d ever done in his life.  He day-dreamed about doing it all day long. 

Would she let me do it again?  Not if you make her mad she won’t.

Then he worried.  As he worried, he found himself doing his chores.  With the realization came the uncertainty of whether or not he was doing them with fidelity or to specification.  He had been operating somewhat mindlessly, after all.  Quickly, he reasoned that the only way to deal with his anxiety was to channel it into being a better boyfriend and as far as he was concerned, being a better boyfriend meant pleasing Michele. 

He put his mind and his efforts into making Michele’s house look perfect, all the while, hoping and praying that Michele had not hooked up with John…and hoping she’d let him rub her bottom some more.  Then he gave serious consideration to that extra thing he could do to please her.

*

It turned out that Tanya and Cindy were not even having a pool party. 

Who needs video games when I’ve got Tim’s confidence and self worth to play with!

*

As Michele returned several hours later, it was hard not to let his emotions show.  Michele looked refreshed and seemed in a light mood.  After touring their modest home, obviously inspecting his work, she’d not said a word.  However, she did rest her hand on his bottom for a brief time as she took it in and then gave him a very gentle and loving spank.  She looked pleased.

Tim’s hopes shot to the heavens, yet he contained his reaction until he was sure her inspection was concluded.  

He’d ironed many of her skirts and blouses as the extra little thing to please Michele and wanted so badly to throw open her closet and show her.  He knew better to than to make it a big, “Look at me” moment.  That kind of attention seeking, that sort of prompting of approval had a way of backfiring.  

Every once in a while she let her pleasure show and she’d make a big deal out of it by smiling and patting him on the head or butt as she told him he was “good.”  More often she said nothing and Tim was left to wonder if she even noticed what he’d done.  The one time Tim did draw attention to his creative, extra effort, he was rebuked for being a self centered attention seeker and the whole thing was ruined.  

*

“You know, it’s not like I don’t like it that you bought us a steam cleaner and used it to clean some stuff, but you’ve totally ruined it by making it all about you. ‘Look, Ms. Michele,’ she mocked, ‘look what I did!  Don’t you want to praise me?’  Just stop it!  God, you know you probably should have been doing that anyway.  Jesus, who’s job is it to keep this place clean?”

“I guess, mine.”

“You guess?”

“No…I mean it is mine.  I’m sorry.”

“Exactly, so get over yourself.  God, I don’t always have the energy to praise you for every little thing.  Don’t I pay you enough attention?”

No.

But he realized he’d need at least 25 hours in a day of constant Michele time to sate his desire for his one true love.  “No…you do.  I’m…I’m sorry.  I…I won’t do it again.  I’m sorry.”

“God, look what you did!  Now I’m in a bad mood.”  Although irritated, Michele appreciated the opportunity to put her boy in his place.

*

As she thought about how she spoke to Tim that morning, she felt aroused.  “I had the very best day,” she announced.  “Come to my room.”

Reclining on her mountain of pillows, she admired the view: Tim lay prone, before her with his face buried in her crotch.  She still wore her denim shorts and he offered sweet, little kiss after sweet, little kiss to her crotch.  His joy and relief at her return was so endearing.  The boy behaved as would a puppy dog would at the return of his master.  He was so absolutely in love with her; and she was such a happy girl.

That’s right boy, kiss, kiss kiss.  

Tim wondered what she was giggling about as he kissed her crotch.

*

Dear Ms. Michele,

Oh, I do like being called “Ms. Michele,”…even by myself!  Fun. 

I wanted to write a few words on mood and going after Tim. 

Sometimes I think of humiliation therapy as “going after him,” like it’s an attack.  Oh my god, I’m sooooooo the mean little kitty-Cat!  Sharp Claws!  Meow.  More like, sexy, hot black panther. 

OK, so like, there is this pattern to it all.  First I go after him with some pretty humiliation.  Oh my!  Then he just falls apart like a broken, lost, little boy.  Then I discipline him.  Then I make his boo-boos all better with affection. 

Ok, so the moods.  So like in the first part, my moods just switch and change and it’s like…amazing. 

At a certain important point, I become what I think of as The Superior Girlfriend.  The Superior Girlfriend is there to check his attitude and warn him about what will happen if he does not get himself together.  She’s a grown up and she helps him understand he’s a boy and way beneath her.  She’s so above him that she almost comes off as bored by him.  Yet as a grown up, she is responsible and is letting him know that she will deal with him. 

I feel very, very, like O so very haughty when I’m Superior GF.  And I know I look it too. 

Yet much of the time, I become my Mean-Little-Girl.  Mean Little-Girl can say the meanest, MEANEST things to poor, little Timmy and when I do it, I feel so cute and little and pretty.  So there is Mean-Little-Girl, totally bitch slapping Tim with her words (usually just words…at first…oh god, getting special just writing this!) and then when he gets all defensive, I suddenly switch into Superior Girl Friend. 

I don’t plan to be all switchy, I just do it naturally. 

So let me just say, when I cut him down with humiliation therapy, I get soooooooooo incredibly special.  Like way!  Oh my god, it’s almost embarrassing to say, but I’m not sure anything makes me hornier.  Like maybe only slapping and spanking…maybe.  Sometimes this even makes me more special. 

Like, I’ll say the meanest, most outrageous thing and then I watch him.  I’m totally smiling and maybe giggling, but I feel like I’m studying him to drink in his reaction.  Pretty little girl wants to see his little hurties.  Every time, it’s the same and let me say, it’s perfect!  Seriously, seriously, seriously Big-Girl-Fun…even though I’m being my sexy, mean little girl.  Smiles!  I can actually see all these intense emotions just rush up inside of him.   I can actually feel his emotional reaction as it comes off his whole body! 

He gets mad, but he also gets so scared!  Like so!  Often, right about here, his cock gets all hard for me.  Fun! 

Love that he needs this.  It’s so pretty and beautiful.  Even though I soooooooo love saying these things to him, when I see his cock get hard, I feel like such a good, caring and generous girlfriend. That’s how I know that even when I say something that sounds so mean, it’s actually love making for us. Love that!  Even if he doesn’t get hard, it’s love making. He’s having a hard time breathing and nothing and I mean NOTHING is hotter then when I put him in such an emotional state that he cries. I almost always cum when he cries. Obviously my boy needs this.