The Perfect Beginning Ch. 02

"You are such a pretty girl, but you are so naughty. Such a saucy little bottom, it's just begging to be spanked. Bad," spank "bad," spank "bad girl!" She was encouraging Tim to accept his place. She wanted him to see what she was making him. "This little girl needs to learn her lesson. Little Kimmy needs to learn to obey. It seems I'm going to have to spend a lot more time with my little girl. I'm going to have to make sure you behave like a proper young lady."

And she knew she was encouraging his arousal with her breathy little words and her gentle spanks to his cute tushy, enticed the erection she felt pushing into her leg.

Tim was so undone by the image that he was actually a little light headed.

"Yes, Ms." He had to lift off of her lap in order to hold off his eruption.

"That'a girl. We'll have no accidents, young lady."

After several minutes, yet before Tim could shoot his boy cream all over her leg, she realized it was time to get down to business and administer the real spanking Tim richly deserved. Reaching for the hairbrush, "Time for your spanking, bad boy."

Through trial and error, Michele learned that she enjoyed token resistance, but if Tim squirmed too much, threatened to fall from her lap, she became irritated and very stern.

Watching him gently kick with flipped skirt and white panties was just precious, and a little unnerving. She had no problem laying into Tim, but a part of her just did not want to strike a girl quite so hard. She realized this was affecting her as well as little Kimmy. Taking a hairbrush to her panties was exhilarating even if it was not quite a full force spanking. Nonetheless, the first few had to be hard.

Even naughty girls need to be taught.

SPANK SPANK SPANK

"You will do as I say.

SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK

You will mind me. Do I make myself clear, young lady?"

Spank Spank

"Yes, yes, I understand, owww! Please!"

Spank Spank Spank Spank

"It goes beyond that, little-Missy. You need to acknowledge the truth: you don't have any choice!"

Spank Spank Spank

"Owww, yes, I know!"

Spank Spank Spank

"You know what?"

Spank Spank Spank

"Ouch....oh, god, please...I have no choice, I have to obey you!"

Spank Spank Spank Spank

"No Tim, I don't think you do. I've taken this from you, I beat you. I beat you a long time ago and you still don't acknowledge it.

SPANK SPANK

"You had your chance and you could not stand up to me. I'm stronger than you ... I'm ... I'm dominating you. You lost to a girl and you are mine now.

SPANK SPANK SPANK

"You are so weak. Say it!"

SPANK SPANK

"I'm weak...owww...ouch. I'm weak. You are stronger than me. Oh my god, so much stronger...owww. Please...please stop. Oh god that burns, Michele."

SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK

"I'll stop when I'm good and ready. You need to know it, Tim, you need to know I'm stronger than you. You are being completely dominated by a girl and I'm only half your size!"

SPANK SPANK

"Yes, yes ... I, I know! "

SPANK

"Say it again!"

SPANK

"You dominate me! You are dominating me! You are stronger than me! So much stronger! You are my dominant."

SPANK

"Yes, I'm your dominant."

SPANK

"Who's the babysitter, Tim?"

SPANK

"You are. You are the babysitter. Oh my god, Michele! I will obey you! I will always obey you! I will always obey you! Always, always, always, always, always, always, forever! Please let me obey you! You are dominant! You are my dominant! Please be my dominant! Please always let me be your bottom. Always want to be beneath you! It's where I belong!"

SPANK

"Who's the lil' boy?"

"I am. I'm the little boy. I'm your little boy. And you are my babysitter!"

"And who's my little girl?"

Spank

"I am! I'm your little girl and, and...I love it! And I love you."

"Kneel."

Tim knew the position well as he'd knelt before Michele many times after a spanking. He was so grateful to do so as it meant the spanking was over and forgiveness was close at hand. After a real punishment, kissing Michele's hand was his very favorite thing to do as it brought punishment to an official close.

Yet for Michele this was time to get a few things straightened out.

She held his face in her hands. "Things have changed and it will never be like it was. Ever. You are not like a normal person anymore. You kind of like...belong to me now. You're not just my boyfriend, it's much more like I own you," she said with a smile.

Though she'd felt a certain possessive comfort of Tim, the notion about really owning him, as actual property while making it clear to him had just occurred to Michele so she spoke it extemporaneously. It was then that she understood what true objectification was!

"You have to do what I tell you. From now on, I'm the only real authority in your life. Not your mother. Me. Actually, in some ways I'm replacing your mother or your mommy, if that's what you need."

Once more, Tim's anxiety threatened to wash him away. When he felt Michele exerting herself, taking over his life, it was like free falling backwards down into some deep, dark well. It was soooooo much easier when they did not have to put words to any of this, they did not talk about it. Speaking it aloud always made it so much more undeniably real to Tim.

"Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Yes."

"Then say it." Intuitively, Michele knew the words carried much more weight when he had to state them himself. It was sort of like making him watch himself get spanked. She wanted him to internalize and accept all of this.

"I have to do what you say. In certain ways, you are taking the place of my...my mother because I have to obey you and you can spank me.

"But it's more than that, you kind of... kind of...you kind of own me now."

Saying the words had the intended consequence and she could tell he was short of breath and she pleasured at his sudden involuntary shudder. He was giving his free will to a very young under-girl. The most amazing person he'd ever met in his life, but still, he was agreeing to her demands of obedience.

It went beyond obedience, she was openly claiming ownership of him and he was agreeing. On some level, Tim knew he was beginning to accept that he was becoming Her property.

She owns me now...does it even matter if I agree? Am I agreeing or just telling her I understand? Once you become someones else's property, can you ever take yourself back?

"I guess I just want you to know that I understand that you own me now. You...you...you are my owner."

If she owns me, does that make me her slave?

And then the question slipped out before he could think to stop himself. "Does that make you my Master?" He could not believe he let it slip out and held his breath as he wondered how he could use his arms to collect all the words he'd spoken and force them back into his mouth.

A shiver traveled up and down Michele's spine, goose bumps spread across her arms and her nipples turned to stone. It was laid bare, they were talking about slavery. And for them, this was also about love. Michele was elated and smiled broadly. "Why yes, yes it does! I'm your Master now."

God, that feels soooooooooo fucking good!

"Say it."

"Ms. Michele, you are my Master."

And that seemed right to him, it felt very right to him. It was so far beyond odd, but there was comfort in this realization. And he shivered again with trepidation. Everything she'd done, everything she'd made him do, everything they were together confirmed this simple truth. Though totally dumbfounded, he knew he wanted to belong to her. He loved his owner...his Master.

She's my Master. Michele is my Master! Oh my god!

He felt all the more in love.

As he spoke the words she commanded, she saw Tim visibly shiver, once again. She knew he was accepting the truth of his life. Michele's eyes went wide with wonder.

Oh my god, he's going along with it! What an incredible world this is! I am so lucky to be me!

A broad and delighted smile spread across her pretty, young face. She could not believe how it just kept getting better.

"And Michele..." he whispered.

"Yes, princess?"

"Thank you. Thank you so much for spanking me. I don't know what gets into me sometimes and ... well, I guess I'm just so glad you are here to take care of me. I love you so much. I love you so much."

"I know you do, baby and you are welcome." Goodness, what a Kimberlyboy!

On impulse, Michele scooted forward on her chair and at once spread her knees apart, reached forward with both hands, holding Tim firmly by the back of his head and pulled him in. She looked down at his face pressed into her crotch when she brought her knees back together.

Tim struggled gently between her legs which sent shivers through her body. She did not know if he resisted because he was frightened or because he was having a hard time breathing, but she knew she liked the little bit of resistance.

She also enjoyed holding him firmly in place by squeezing her thighs and holding him by the hair. Twining her fingers into his thick hair felt good! She was riveted by his light resistance and she loved having his face in her crotch.

Oh...my...god! This is so fucking hot!

At one point early in their relationship, she wondered what it might look like for a girl to rape a man and now it seemed like she had some idea.

I'm a girl and he's a man and I'm doing this to him! Can you say rape? Why yes I can!

Her little cotton sweatpants/capris fit so snug and tight, it was almost like having his face right on her little pussy. And it was amazing in every way. To Michele, there was perfection in this.

Grasping him tightly by the hair, so as to maintain possession and quell any thoughts of escape, she released her gentle squeeze of his head and repositioned the two of them so that he was lower and so her legs went over his shoulders. Back into her crotch went Tim's face.

As it turned out, Tim struggled because it was hard to breath...and he was scared.

Poor Tim was so confused. On the one hand, there was something basically intimidating about having one's face forced into a woman's crotch. On the other hand, it was one more degrading act that he'd endure upon Michele's insistence; and in this case, forceful insistence. Once more there was the duel shame of being too weak to stop it coupled with his erection.

She was right, his cock did betray him. He so desperately wanted to lie to himself and say that he hated this, yet his cock was like a lie detector that would not allow such self deception. He was ashamed that he was dominated by a girl and he was twice again shamed by the fact that he was aroused by it.

What's wrong with me!

Right now, I'm doing what the girl is supposed to be doing.

Tim went on to consider that right then, all over the country, young girls were on their knees sucking on their guys' cocks.

It's a girl thing.

And he honestly believed that; sucking cock or more specifically, giving head, was a girl thing. And some of them really loved it, he had to believe. In his mind it was what caring girls, girls who did not want to actually "go all the way", did for their boyfriends.

And although Tim did not agree with it, he knew sometimes the guy even kind of forced it on her, at least initially.

It's what she's supposed to do, her duty.

So far at least, Michele was not giving it up, yet it was Tim who's face was buried in her hot, little crotch. He was the one on his knees. He was the one being forced against his will.

It was degrading and humiliating, the whole thing. As his hand brushed against his skirt, it dawned on him:

Am I being...raped?

In his mind, those less than eager girlfriends were being "kind of" raped. It was like an initiation rape, just so the girl knew her duty. He, the boyfriend, had needs and in this initiation rape, he showed the girlfriend her place and her duty, fulfillment of which was part of what made her a good girlfriend.

Tim then understood how appropriate his cheerleading outfit was.

Am I the one who's really the girlfriend?

As the initial shock wore off, he began to relax a little. Although she never gave him the sense that she'd do anything less than suffocate him with her sex if he tried to extricate himself from her crotch, she did let him breath.

Up until this point, Michele had no illusions about the profound sexual nature of their relationship. They were not having intercourse, but that did not mean they were not engaged in deep and profound sexual ceremony. Tim knew it was erotic, but had a hard time thinking about it as "sex" because they did not have intercourse; more specifically, she did not make him orgasm.

What about her blockers?

Assuming she did not have a real sex drive made him wonder why she'd be doing this at all.

Michele had wanted to take it further but was in no hurry.

The previous year, there was a rumor that Missy Thompson, a 160 something year old girl a few doors down the street, made her little brother Billy lick her pussy. At least that was the story. Michele thought that was pretty weird, but she could not stop thinking about it. In spite of herself, she could not stop thinking the idea of Billy licking his sister's pussy was hot. All along, this thrill was Michele's secret guilt.

As Tim grew calmer she realized now that it was hot not just because Billy was licking Missy's pussy, it was hot because Missy was forcing him. For Michele, that was the hook, even though she never wanted to acknowledge it. She never let herself openly recognize how exciting that was until right then.

Maybe I should get to know Missy.

Michele smiled.

She kept Tim more or less clamped between her legs for at least half an hour.

When she recognized she'd ridden the fight out of him, she more fully relaxed and splayed her knees out wide. She snaked her fingers through Tim's hair and ever so slowly and gently, began humping his face with her crotch.

She tilted his head back slightly, breaking Tims hypnosis. He looked up and their eyes locked. She smiled at him as she gently and with slow deliberation humped his face, running just the tip of his nose up and down her thinly covered pussy.

As she smiled a triumphant and almost malicious smile at Tim, they were both confirming the same thing to themselves: Michele was in fact raping Tim. He was the less than eager girlfriend, but he'd learn. After all, giving head was a girl thing.

It's what I'll be doing next.

And some girls needed that initiation rape to learn their place in the bedroom, to learn their duty.

It will be my duty. Will I learn to like it?

He already knew he would.

Who knew one smile could say so many things all at once. It spoke of her sexual pleasure, her confidence, her dominance and pleasure at Tim's submission. Perhaps most of all, it spoke of conquest.

To Tim, her smile silently, but passionately said, "I own you, bitch."

She's my Master and this is my place.

Yet a part of Tim also felt important, felt a sort of affection. Yes, Tim was being raped, he had not wanted this and certainly had not consented, but he was in love with his rapist, and in spite of everything, he took pride in what he perceived to be his value to Michele.

She chose me to rape when she could have taken somebody else. At least that's something. This is part of my new purpose.

"My mother will be home soon." She got up and went to her room, closing the door behind her. Suddenly Tim was at a complete loss. He did not want to think about just how quickly he'd come to not just accept having his face in Michele's crotch, but how much he wanted it in her crotch. He looked around blinking, not sure what to do. As ever, the boy was completely confused.

He knew he'd better get dressed quickly and put on his apron before Donna arrived.

****

Dear Diary,

Wow. So much happened tonight and I feel like I'm just on the edge of understanding a lot of it.

OK, I began "Operation Spanky-Pants" when I put Tim in his Halloween outfit. HUGE fun. Funner than I imagined.

He was very upset to be dressed as a girl. Wicked smiles! Oh my god, I feel so bad...I LOVE it.

Then something began that I did not consider.

Oh, but before I get to that, I want to think for a moment about how I referred to his penis. I kept calling it "little." It's not little...not at all. And it's not like I don't know what that does to a boy. Boys are weird about wanting huge penises.

I was talking to Cindy about it. They all want to be huge and she told me that some who are not huge even convince themselves that they are. T

alking to Cindy, I got the impression that some girls...more likely Women, might even want it to be really big so maybe there is a reason boys are all insecure about their size. And I don't know, maybe small can be too small, like it just doesn't feel like anything. I have no idea.

Anyway, Tim is not at all small, but I said he was and the reaction was perfect. Can you say humiliation-therapy? Oh yes I can! Happy! I was having serious, Big-Girl fun.

Every time I said it, I saw him get this hurt feeling all over his body. Mmmmmmm, tingling spine! God that makes me special!

There is something else important about this but I'm not sure what it is. It's like it is right in front of me, but I'm not seeing it.

So then there is the whole dressing thing. He's not a pretty girl. Laughing! But it was fun and it was more than just humiliating him by turning him into a sweet girl. It was power. Pure power.

So first, I got inspired and named his penis. I called her "Missy" and wow!

Then after he shaved his legs and I was spanking him...something happened. He started to become a girl. It was so weird! ...and so cool!

Again, it was power. It was not just like he was playing at being a girl either. A part of him really got into it so much that he really was part girl. I liked that. I think I like my little Kimberly-girl.

Anyway, she inspired me. Laughing! After her spanking (now I can't help myself, it's funny) we took a step together and things became more physical and more intimate.

There is too much to write about here right now. I need to think about it all a little bit more. My mind keeps wondering back to the things I said about his penis and the wonderful psychological effect it had on him. Giving it a girl name and calling it tiny was like my Cute-Little-Girl-Magic. S

ometimes I LOVE feeling like a super cute, but powerful Little-Girl controlling the mind of a grown man. Sometimes I still feel like a little girl but with super powers. Most of the time I feel like a grown woman, but the girl fun is still there, for sures! God, I love my life!

****

Dear Me,

Journaling has become one of my favorite things. I suppose I like it so much because it helps me think about things so much and helps me get clear on so many things that just make my head spin. And my head is not spinning in a bad way, it's just that things in my life are happening really fast and there is a lot! I want to understand all of it. I want to know what it means. I don't want to lose track of it. I don't want it to get out of my control. I don't want to lose Tim because I was not paying attention. And mostly, I want to know who I am.

I've been thinking a lot about what happened last night with Tim. First of all, I should have written down something very important last night and didn't. Tim told me he loves me. It was very sweet and means a LOT to me. He really is a sweet boy. It's important that he loves me and it's important that he says he loves me but I think it's also important that he said it the way he did...or the when he did. It just shows again how different and wonderful things are between us.