The Perfect Beginning Ch. 02

So the thing is, there is something about it that scares me. That's not it either. It makes me really uncomfortable.

It's hard for me to just tell him what to do and how to do it and what to think and what to feel and the whole energy of our play-time and...it can be frustrating as hell! Like he eventually gets it and all but I don't like saying like, "OK, we've just gone on our first date and you are this sweet boy and I'm going to rape you and here is what you need to do, feel and think." I can't do it.

What's up with that?

When I think about all the things I've said to Tim, this should be easy.

And here is the THING: I know it is because it's a sex thing and it's play and that's what makes it kinda uncomfortable to say.

OK, so it just dropped on my head. I am just an under-girl. Not "just" a girl. That's lame. I am a kick ass girl. But I'm still an under-girl and this can still make me a little uncomfortable. I'm only a 123 years old.

Also, something else just occurred to me. What we do is kinda perverted. Not kinda, very.

I think I'm OK with that, I mean it does not bother me. But I'd like to use that on Tim. Oh my! Yes! Super happy now. So I'm going to make our perverted fun, his shame. Mmmmmm Not just happy, but happy everywhere! Yum!

Also, there is another thing. The other things I've said to Tim, the outrageous things, none of that was play. It was all just honest...I don't know, me being me. There is more play and theatre in this whole play spanking thing. That does not mean it's not real because it's SO very real. Boyfriending Tim, our first time, was about as real as anything gets! But this play stuff is different and more complicated. Maybe I need to get over it and just start telling him what to do, say and think. Just make it fun! Night-night

****

Over time, they gained the comfort necessary to communicate their needs.

Michele would playfully claim the desire to spank her boy or she might be very playful and assume a play role that suggested that they might have just began dating or maybe even just met. They'd kiss a little on the couch before his date would suggest that he put out. He'd get a little unnerved and seem to be a bit shy. Reaching for his fly, he scooted away from her and with a look of concern, indicated clearly that she was leading him to a place he was not ready to follow.

"Come on boy, don't be shy. You're cute. Just let it happen. I know you want it."

To this, Tim enthusiastically, if not feebly resisted the spontaneous "date spank" as Michele was fond of referring to them as. "No, I'm not ready. I've never done it."

"It's alright, you're going to love it. I can tell. A cute, little boy like you, swishing around on those little hips... You're going to be a natural. Trust me, you're going to learn to crave it. I can tell just by looking at your cute, little body. You're made for it."

He was struck with fear as it became clear, She's one of those girls.

*

While a game, it was all so profoundly important to the young couple. Michele was leading them, but she always led him to the most fundamental truths. The play allowed them to consecrate that which was foundational to each as individuals and to them as a couple.

When she'd declare to her spanking virgin that he'd soon crave spankings, it resonated deeply. Tim the boyfriend already craved it all the time. Almost every time he got himself off, he did so with an image of Michele spanking and humiliating him.

And in this game, Tim maintained a separate, invented identity. He was shocked at how real the entire invention often felt. Tim the date spank victim, while frightened of what she might do to him, was even more frightened because he suspected that she was right. Deep down, he knew she was right. He was scared because his secret shame was that beneath his always proper, good boy veneer was a desperately needy spanking slut.

He was terrified that once she took his cherry, he'd become dependent upon her for what he craved. If things got really out of his control, his sinful cravings might take over his life. Ironically, fear of this outcome, one playing out in his real world, were reduced and mostly contained to this fictional plane of existence. Coping brought with it complications and irony.

It's not as though he were a prude either. He loved kissing and gentle, appropriate petting. And he was a healthy, growing boy so of course he had natural, biological desires and impulses, so of course he thought about it a little. Okay, maybe more than just a little, maybe a lot.

Certainly one day I'll want to go all the way.

But that did not mean he did not want to be a good boy and wait. He went to church and at the very least, wanted his first time to be special and probably on his wedding night. He was raised properly.

He might even have been overly proud of himself for being a goodie-two-shoes. His projections of prideful purity was one thing that Michele found so tempting about the boy she wanted to bend over.

Like a good boy, he remembered in detail about how at church school, one of the moms took all the boys into a room for "the talk."

He was actually relieved to learn that his urges were typical for a growing boy. "Spanking fantasies are natural and common for boys and girls. The real question is: what boy doesn't grow up day dreaming about being over the knee of his one true love?"

The room was alight with sheepish smiles and red faces. "It's natural, boys. It's God's will. But of course God sees all. God does not judge you for your desires as you are thinking and fantasizing in accordance with your nature and God's intention. Romantic ideas and feelings such as these are quite normal and even healthy.

I know my Lloyd was a good boy, but that does not mean he did not want to go all the way before we married. But he wouldn't. He saved himself for marriage and I'm very proud of him for doing so.

And I certainly thought about it. I'll admit that I very likely thought about it even more than he did. I was a normal but very spirited girl." She beamed a confident smile and all the boys giggled with equal parts titilation and relief. Conceding, "Maybe even a lot more than him." She all but winked at the red faced boys.

"But we did as God intended, we waited until we were Woman and husband. And I have Lloyd to thank for that. Every time I pressed him, he demurred like a good, proper boy."

Tim wondered if she did it with other boys, other than her husband to be. She said herself that she was spirited and she might have sowed her oats with some of those slutty, naughty boys.

*

"I don't mind saying that spanking is a significant expression of love and when we meet again in heaven, we'll be right back at it. You boys will save yourself for marriage. You know how spirited girls can get but it's up to you to preserve your purity. You will abstain until marriage. Then you will be safely and soundly in the hands of your wives, the women who love you before and after you make love.

"You will remain among the Lord's flock. Those who stray are among the destitute. There are legions of sinning little bad-boys who will burn in hell for their venality. And it's an easy path to take.

"All you have to do is to meet the quote, right girl. She's not right, of course, she's all wrong. She's exciting, she's a bad girl. She's going to want you to go all the way. She get's excited when she leads a good boy astray. For her, that's a big part of it, believe me.

"And it's not wrong to feel the draw of this kind of girl. She's pretty, she's enticing and she'll give you what you crave. She'll give you a ride on her knee and then wham bam thank you ma'am, she's done with you. You might as well get the tramp stamp on your lower back that tells the world who you really are: slut.

"Of course she'll tell all her friends how easy you were. They might all take a turn with you. You will be called to one girl's house after the next. Of course you'll be using the back door, the servant's entrance. You are now the easy boy and they will take you for a ride.

"You can never take it back and it will be with you forever. Nobody's putting a ring on that finger. And from their it is a short walk to the dark side. In my time here at the church, I've seen a few boys stray and if you were to drive down Delaney St. late at night, you'd see them walking the street, hanging out on street corners waiting to be picked up by some lonely housewife who wants to take some young boy on a joyride. Spanking whores don't go to heaven, boys.

"You will be good boys and wait for Ms. Right."

Since he was a young boy, he fantasized about marriage. He'd gladly put out for his wife but that would be different. They'd be married. There would be commitment. If she judged his desires to fulfill his duties, she judged positively, because in his marriage fantasy, his wife was even more wild about bending him over her knee than he was about being there for her. The whole thing was beautiful and fulfilling to each and contributed to their ongoing marital bliss. He wanted to be a spanking slut, but only with his wife.

Increasingly, he was torn between his duty as a proper boy and his physical desires. As he became approached a socially acceptable dating age , he found himself thinking more and more about his secret yearning. It was proper and good to share this in marriage, but to do so out of wedlock made a boy like him a common slut. The notion about craving it struck at the heart of his fear.

And he had to work overtime to not think about all the messages he got from the wide world about how to conduct himself. And the media seemed to be constantly projecting the imagery and telling the story of temptation.

Commercials and print adds were choked with images of cute boy models in very spankable situations. So many TV shows and movie after movie seemed almost to suggest that boys should aspire to be a naughty-boy and hook up with any number of willing women or girls for a hot little spanking romance.

Teen romcoms put boys over the knees of starlets in film after film. But these were idealized films in which the actors always, by the end of the film, walked away hand in hand. He knew that was not the way it usually ended up.

Of course he was a good boy and that was the most important thing.

Yet in addition to his secret longings, there were all the fashions that he was addicted to. It seemed that all the clothes he most wanted to wear were the most suggestive.

He did not want to dress like a whore, but he did want to dress cute.

And it was not as though he did not want to attract the attention of girls. It wasn't as though he did not want girls to want to spank him. Of course he knew that dressing cute drew attention and enticed girls to want him.

So what, it's natural.

Making them want him was not the same as going all the way.

He refused to think of it as slutty or designed to make him look like he would go all the way, so instead he viewed his fashion sense as pretty and designed to make him look cute. All boys want to be cute.

Yet all good boys knew there was a fine line between slutty and cute. He found himself getting closer and closer to that line.

He did not like to think about how he was only looking for attention and for women to validate his looks, so he just reminded himself that he was dressing in a way that expressed his individual style preferences.

And he was always drawn to cloths that showed off his butt.

It's just dressing cute, what's the big...? God!

He hated all the spank-slut shaming judgment because he was not a slut.

I'm not!

Even if his clothes were a teensy bit sexy, so what? It was not whorish and a boy had a right to dress how he wanted.

I just like dressing little-boy cute!

He did not know what to think of the way women looked at him. He liked being pretty and it was not as though he did not appreciate some attention, but they way women often leered at him was inappropriate.

Most of the girls at school were wolves. What were their mothers teaching them? And of course there were the times they'd get handsy with him.

Just the week before he'd been at a house party when he'd been nearly assaulted by three drunk girls. They'd been in conversation when he appeared looking for a bottle opener. He knew he was wearing a very "cute" little number but it was a party. He had to rummage through the drawers to find what he was looking for when the comments began.

He looked over his shoulder and smiled at them but went back to looking.

Before he knew it, the girls had closed in on him and were right up against him. One of them touched his bottom and when he turned to face her, one of the other girls did the same thing. His eyes went big and he began to panic!

Selma Potter leaned in and whispered in his ear while rubbing his crotch, "Give it up and stop being a pussy-tease."

He was shocked to his core and bolted from the kitchen, frantic to get back to Michele and grateful those girls did not go further.

He hated what they'd done but hated himself more when at home he got himself off while imagining that they had taken him into a room and gang banged him in the middle of a party.

There had been some other close calls, but he'd been lucky enough to get out of whatever trouble he'd made for himself, cherry intact, thank you very much.

Probably the worst was when he had to walk past a group of women. Their leers and cat-calls excited and frightened the boy terribly.

He'd been advised by his mother, his therapist, Ms. Shaw and the school guidance counselor, Ms. Peters to take it as a compliment. And he did like it. He knew he was lucky to be so pretty that women wanted to spank him. He wanted to be wanted in that way but he wanted too to feel safe. Sometimes before passing a group of women, he'd cross the street first.

Grown-up, adult women were sometimes the worst.

He wanted to trust adults and when he was little, he could. Yet his body was venturing into adult territory while his mind was still very much that of a boy.

He'd been babysitting the Collin's girls for years but in the last year or so, he and Mrs. Collins began to develop a friendship of sorts.

She always drove him home and she was so nice to him. She always complimented how he looked, his outfits and his manner. She'd ask about his personal life and made him feel special. They were just friends so it did not bother him at all when she'd adjust a rebellious strand of hair from his cheek.

He felt important when Mrs. Collins confided in him that she and her husband were not getting along at all. Mr. Collins seemed to be drifting away from her.

Timmy did not understand that at all! If he'd been lucky enough to find someone like Ms. Collins, "Here in private, call me Judy," he'd have given her his everything. She was so together and interesting. It certainly did not hurt that she was so dreamy to look at!

She'd pull the car over and they'd just talk. These conversations became very important to the boy and he felt privileged that she took him into her confidence.

She was not sure the marriage was going to work. "If I'd only been lucky enough to have found a boy like you."

"But Mrs. Collins, you're married!"

"Oh, don't I know it," she said as she pet his forearm in a reassuring way.

Timmy was falling in love and wished more than anything that the Collins would get a divorce.

Suddenly the Collins stopped using him as their babysitter and Timmy was heartbroken. He'd been a mess for weeks after that but after telling a friend about it, he came to wonder if Mrs. Collins might have been trying to take advantage of him. Could she have been just trying to use me?

Adults could be so confusing. He knew his changing body could make trouble for him if he was not careful.

*

His hands went, unknowingly, to his bottom to somehow both protect and stimulate what was becoming a very erogenous zone for the boy.

"But we just met! I'm not that kind of boy. I want it to be special. I'm sorry. Let's just wait. Come on, let's just go back to kissing."

"Kissing? Oh, someone's a little tease!"

"No, it's just nice and I'm not ready for the other thing. Please?"

"Already your cute, naughty, little bottom is begging for it. Don't worry, I'll take care of you. Don't be scared, I'll do you good. If it's your first time, I'll go easy."

With her insightful comment, his face bloomed red and his hands jumped to his "hot" bottom even though it was too late to hide his budding lust and consequent guilt.

I'm a good boy!

Even still, his needy, fully aroused bottom, betrayed him.

He was nearly overwhelmed by her blatant dirty talk. The poor boy internalized everything she said. When she said it, he knew he did have a "naughty bottom" and he wanted it so bad.

My bottom must be begging for it!

The way she said it just made him want it more. She said, "She'll do me good." And he somehow knew she would.

"Just let it happen."

That's the one that got him because it would be so easy to just go along with what he wanted to do anyway.

I wonder how many boys she's done this to? Like, it might not even be special to her. I think she just wants to use me for spanking.

The way she spoke to him, like he was just some sort of toy or sex candy made him feel somehow cheap and special at the same time.

Am I that kind of boy?

A part of him wanted to give in so badly, but he was a good boy and he knew not to forget it.

No, it's for marriage!

They enjoyed putting a lot of theatre into this. He'd try to get away and she'd aggressively pursue him until he was trapped. Tim liked being the defenseless "girl."

And he loved and almost fixated on her complement about his body. He absolutely loved that she thought he had a cute, little body. A part of him really, really did want to be what she wanted him to be.

He knew then he'd be waggling and pushing out his ass whenever she was around and with that he felt the shame. He knew this is what it meant to be a tease. The slut shame was the continuous counter balance to the pleasure he took from her comments about his desirable body.

"I'm not sure, I don't think I'm ready..."

"Did your mommy warn you about girls like me?" She'd roughly manhandle her gentle boy forcing her kisses on him. And while she did hold on for a kiss, his gentle struggles seemed to melt with his growing desire.

When she stopped, he'd resist some more and try to get away from the "frightening, mean and aggressive girl." If he could get away, he would, but she'd pursue. He'd openly beg her, "Please, please let me go...please don't make me..."

Often she was the amused, playful huntress. Her mirthful good mood at his fear and victimization and eventual spank rape frightened and excited him even more.

His whole bottom tingled in anticipation.

Oh my god, I'm such a whore!

"Please, please, I do want to be with you but...I'm not ready! I'm...I'm...I'm a virgin! Please!"

Rubbing his bottom, she wore an expression of predatory hunger. "Oh, you are ready. You are sooooo ready. Just look at those little hips and that needy, hot, little bottom of yours."

With her rubbing, it was so hard not to just give in and give her what she wanted ... what he secretly wanted.

Oh my god, that feels so good!

He could just float away with the sensation of her little, circular rubs on his bottom.

Have...to...fight! Must get...away!

Trying to evade her touches, "But I'm saving myself for marriage, please! Please don't."

"You say you're not ready, but your bottom sure is. Look at it, it's begging for it. You know you want it."

These comments penetrated deeply into Tim's psyche and had a long lasting affect on the boy. Eventually he came to accept that no matter what he said or what he had previously believed he thought, his body communicated a secret, dark and perverted need to be spanked. He began to internalize the belief that he was some sort of perverted spanking slut.