The Perfect Beginning Ch. 02

If I really wanted to destroy Tim, that would be abuse. What we do is humiliation-therapy because it is good for him. Yes, I break Tim down emotionally and among other things, this really turns us on...not just me. Yes, I make him cry and that's one of my favorite things to think about.

Oh, no, I hurt little boy's feelings. Poor baby.

Laughing.

Beyond that though, when I do this to him, he is like totally broken and vulnerable. I LOVE when I have him in this place. And it's so not just about him being all hurt and wanting to cry; it's the joy and the pleasure and the goodness of me doing it to him. When I see that what I said to him makes him want to cry...Mmmmmm, oh my! Goodness, is it hot in here? Smiles.

And yes, I do have a mean streak, but this lets me use it in a positive way. Let me explain. OK self, go ahead and explain. Smile!

When he's broken, he needs me like SOOOO badly. He's like a puppy dog in the cold rain. He totally wears the hurt on his whole body. I'll say something and I can see his eyes get wet and he gets totally emotionally overwhelmed and it sounds like he's having a hard time breathing. All this happens while his dick stands up for me. It reminds me of how a gentleman stands up when a lady enters the room. Ha, another thing to teach him to do!

Anyway, this is often when he tries to defend himself even though he can barely speak. More like pleads. It's when he tries to talk, either to "please be nice," or "that's not true," or "please, Michele, I love you," (like that would ever make me stop!!!) that he's going to cry for me.

He does not cry all the time but if he does, it's usually when he tries to speak. Like, he's trying not to, trying to hold it in but once he starts talking, his voice breaks and he has a hard time breathing and then I get what I want so badly. I make my boy cry. Yay!

And then I bring him back in from the cold. And the humiliation therapy helps him get in tune with his own vulnerability and when that happens, he's totally open to me. Like, total emotional need. Like, "Please make my boo-boos better."

And when we circle back to something more openly affectionate, he just kisses my pretty, little ass. Ha! It's amazing, I can give him just the tiniest bit of affection and he just falls all over himself with the need to please me.

That's good for us because my happiness is our happiness. I feel happy!

I keep going back to the first time Tim told me he loved me. I was deep into some intense humiliation therapy with him (god that was hot!) and he came all over himself and began crying from it all. Mmmmmm tingling! I did give him one little slap but most of what I was doing was just playing with his emotions. He was as low as he could be and could not stop crying as I continued to lay into him (getting horny just thinking about it.)

So, without touching him, with just my words, I could make him cum and cry for me like a little girl and then with just a touch of affection, he shares with me how much he loves me. That's so beautiful.

Totally wholesome.

It's pure, proper, healthy and even virtuous.

It's wholesome.

Mmmmmmm, what we have is so pretty! Thank you, God.

****

They were very new to their relationship and spanking was one of their many fantastic discoveries. They'd not yet reached a point with themselves and each other when they could experience the freedom to work it into complex, perverted sexual psycho dramas, yet they were expressing their most essential, complementaries selves in this deeply gratifying ritual.

Michele wanted to forge ahead in this way yet her eager beaver was kept in check by a plethora of reasons, first among them was the anxiety she shouldered when imagining saying some of the perverted things she'd like to say to her boy.

Wouldn't it be fun to accuse him of playing with my undies? Oh my god, he'd be mortified!

She knew that while crossing that line, she'd be mortified. Sharing that mortification was half the fun.

She imagined holding up a pair of panties to his face, "Just what is the meaning of this, little man? What on Earth would cause you to play with my under-panties?"

Oh my God, that would be so dirty! Just thinking 'under-panties' sounds dirty!

Michele laughed.

But so much fun!

Michele was a remarkably patient young woman and understood that with patience, things would play out as she'd like.

Yet they were learning how to play and brought her attention back to the play at hand.

***

"But why, Ms. Michele, I haven't done anything?" he pleaded as she led him to her room by his wrist.

*

Tim had been dying for his spanking, rather he'd been craving his spanky. Of course he adored being with Michele but for some reason, on this particular evening, his need was especially acute and he was desperate to express his love. He'd wanted to be draped over Michele's knee since before he walked through her door and when he saw her standing their in her tiny, little comfies, his cock shot to attention.

Fifth period was about kissing and puppy love. Sixth period was spent day dreaming about a hot, romantic spanking.

She was his teacher and he was her student and their love was forbidden. Yet at last she acknowledged that it was impossible to deny the inevitability of their coupling.

She took him in hand and kissed him. He was beyond smitten and whimpered with desire and joy. Eventually she put him over her knee and consummated their love.

"I love you, I love you, I love you!" he declared.

"You will always be mine, little one," she replied. That was the movie that played in his head for all of sixth period. He was in love.

And there were occasions when she did spank him the moment he came through the door. Yet it was not the norm and it was not the case on this particular afternoon.

*

This was one of the most exciting parts of it all: the set up and the announcement.

"But why, Ms. Michele, I haven't done anything?" He very gently "tried" to pull loose from her grip. "If I did anything...I mean, whatever I did, I'm sorry. Please don't... Please don't..."

"Please don't, what?"

"Please don't spank me!"

She took a deep breath and felt the calm wash over her body. She revealed her contented pleasure with her smile. That word was so beautiful to her and she knew it was like a favorite song she'd listen to for the rest of her life and not get the least tired of hearing.

Please don't spank me! Goodness gracious! Very special.

And of course, 'Please don't...' meant Please do. She liked it when he begged for it. Sometimes begging for it meant that he got down on his knees and begged for it. Other times he begged for it by gently begging her not to spank him. Sometimes he begged for it by gently and playfully fighting against her.

Once in her room, "So you are sorry for 'whatever' you did? Really?" the last asked with equal parts disdain and disbelief. "To me that sounds like, 'I don't care what I did because it does not matter. The only thing that matters is that I don't get spanked on my naughty, naughty bottom.' Do you know how upsetting that is to me?"

He felt his anxiety spike but he knew to remain silent as Michele was not finished and did not yet expect a response. He'd learned so much about the pacing of their ritual.

Captivated as ever, he admired her beauty, he could not get over how almost perfect she looked just then. Controlled, stern vexation framed her beauty to perfection.

He was always so confused by his reaction to Michele. When she was cross or in some way on edge, he felt the strangest amalgam of fear and attraction. It always got hard to breath. For reasons he really did not want to understand, it was at this point that she might be her prettiest and he was absolutely in her thrall every single time.

"It's very upsetting, young man. I want you to understand why you get spanked. And don't you know that I only spank you to help you, to teach you? Don't you know that I only spank you because I care? You need to know that this is for your own good. Naughty, little boys get spanked. It's what's best for you. You will always get spankings."

In this declaration there was great comfort for the boy. Her guidance buoyed him.

And here is where it was not play. "Yes, Ms. Michele, I know. I'm sorry."

"Listen here, little-mister, just you not knowing what you are apologizing for, just you apologizing for anything shows me you don't mean it. You have to mean it. Why, this is reason enough to spank you."

This was when Tim became more frightened. On occasion, a play spanking morphed into an actual punishment. She had him dead to rites with his insincere apology. It was true that he threw out a blanket apology with no curiosity of lesson learned.

But it was just play! We are just playing!

"I know, you are totally right!" said with a bit of desperation. "I know the lesson is the most important part and I want to learn from you."

He began to calm back down a bit. Facing her squarely, he put both hands on his soon to be spanked bottom, head tilted down and in a soft voice. "Learning from you is always the most important thing. You are always so far above me. I have so much to learn from you." Now slowly wagging his hips from side to side. "Ms. Michele, will you please teach me now? Will you please, please spank...spank my bot...bottom."

He could not believe how genuinely difficult it still was for him to say those words. Though provocative and shameful, this was what they did all the time. Face still looking down but lifting his eyes to hers, "Please make me good."

All these things triggered her affection and arousal. His hands on his butt, the wagging, the head down and the soft, little-boy voice, his hard penis, all of it demonstrated intellectual, sexual and spiritual surrender and submission.

The gift that keeps giving. Oh my, I'm a smug girl!

Sitting down in the spanking chair, "Well then, if it's a spanking you need, it's a spanking you shall have! Let's get those shorts off of you, shall we?"

She parted her knees and he stood in the sacred valley of her thighs. She shimmied his shorts down and once to his knees, they dropped to the floor. She clamped her knees over his legs, gently but possessively. She made as though to pull his boxers down with the weakest of tugs. "Why, it seems your undies are hooked on something!"

She smiled, but he knew not to smile back. He felt a little cute, but found it easy enough to indulge in the shame of his noticeably aroused state. And his shame was all too real to him.

"We'll just leave them on then." Taking him by the wrist, she gently pulled down as she loosened her hold of his legs, "Over you go now, little boy," she said warmly.

Instantly, he looked to the side, into the mirror, so he could see her and watch. Here was when she was stunningly gorgeous and with the possible exception of her ass, watching her spank him was the most mesmerizing and compelling vision he'd ever been treated to.

"Let's get you warmed up," she said happily as she reached for the hairbrush. "You bad little boy!" she said as though to encourage.

He did not know he was still waggling his bottom, still inviting her spanking, still begging for it.

The first four always felt good. The first four were Heaven. It almost did not matter how hard she struck him, when she alternated cheeks, the first four were pure, joyous love.

"You naughty boy!" Spank Spank "You will learn your lesson!" Spank Spank

Tim's eyes went large as he realized what he'd so badly wanted...and then did not want it anymore. Yet had she stopped just then, he'd be heartbroken. He was such a confused boy.

Getting him warmed up, meant she'd use the hairbrush for the first 20 or 30. After that, she put down the brush and used her hand. She found that once warm, she could use her hand gently but effectively without hurting her own hand.

Though her hand spankings burned some, it was a good burn. This is what he'd longed for all day. This was togetherness. This was profound romance. This was to Tim what a candle lit, intimate dinner for two, dressed in the cutest cocktail dress was to a young woman on the night he proposed. And of course, to him, it was the definition of romantic sex.

I love her so much!

They felt as one.

These hand spankings were so intensely sexual that he had to often raise his rump off Michele's leg as he feared the pressure coupled with the rest of the experience would cause him to lose control and cum on her leg.

"You bad, little boy!" she said in baby voice.

spank

And he felt it in his cock at once.

spank

"You will do as you are told!"

spank

"You will always mind me!"

spank

Crossly, "Do you hear me, mister? Do you?"

One of his hands touched her calf which she interpreted instantly as an infraction from which she experienced very real indignation. And his hand stayed there. She was irritated and confused.

"Oh no! Oh no, no, no!"

She could not quite believe her ears when she thought she heard him moan, "no, no." Fueled by irritation and disbelief, "Why how dare you, young man! I have a mind to give you something to really cry about!"

She began spanking in earnest. As she spanked, she realized what was happening, what he was doing.

*

He was so joyous at going over her knee and since he'd craved this particular, shameful contact all day long, it seemed like a relief. That was until he realized he only wanted more.

Only Michele.

Spanks 5 through 30 stung terribly, but they did nothing to sate his need.

He watched her intently as she spanked and could not get over how stunningly gorgeous she was. Though incredibly young, she exuded confidence the likes of which he'd never seen on another person ever in his life.

Though dressed as a girl, he could only view her as an adult. She looked like an incredibly sexy, remarkably focused and provocatively conservative librarian. And it was not a show. He'd come to view Michele as the most confident person he'd ever met.

He had complete faith in Michele and though it was scary, he knew on some level that he was putting his life in her hands. She's my leader. Her competence along with her beauty and sex appeal reenforced the pinnacle descriptor that Tim held in his mind for Michele: she was superior.

Usually at this juncture of his thinking he came to a profound sense of gratitude and fear. He was incredibly grateful she'd chosen him and instantly fearful she'd realize her mistake.

Even with the painful hairbrush spanking, he was mesmerized by her authoritarian air and striking beauty. And he felt his orgasm coming.

For a second, he chose not to recognize it; for to recognize it was to be responsible for it. And it just felt too good to want to stop. And then the dawning realization that filled him with dread: he was going over the falls.

Going over the falls was the point at which one realized one was going to be pulled into a powerful ocean wave and was about to be slammed into the sand while being powerless to stop it. One was not yet in pain, but their was an inevitability to it all which was always panic inducing. And it was all his fault. He could have stopped it had he acted earlier.

In the past, when he realized he was getting dangerously close, he kind of did a push up, lifting himself momentarily from her lap. She always smiled knowingly and just let him hover there until he was in the clear, at which point he lowered himself back down on her knee and they'd resume their play. It was always at this pause that she went from being a grown woman to being an under-girl again; in Tim's eyes she just looked so delighted.

This time he'd waited too long to do his push up, "Oh my god, no, no, no!"

To be fair, his orgasm rushed up on him with unusually rapid urgency. He pushed up nonetheless for to not do so would be to smear his soon to be soaking boxers all over Michele's legs. As much as he'd enjoy doing just this, it would be an affront to her and was therefore unthinkable.

It took all his strength to hold his body over her lap as his orgasm overtook him. Not only was he fighting to maintain some control over his body while it was being racked by convulsions but the pressure of his own weight pushing his cock into her lap would have felt so much better.

In this moment, Tim's awareness came down to two things: he was cuming and profound shame. Though pleasurable, without some pressure, it was somehow not very satisfying. Soon it would be gone, but the shame would live forever. Not considered by the boy was that forever too would be the link between pleasure and shame.

Michele could not have been more pleased by what she'd achieved. She'd made her boy cum while spanking and shaming him.

She watched him in the mirror. She saw his head arch back and with his eyes closed, she felt free to wear her wonder and joy. She'd already cum once when scolding and spanking the boy and with him cumming now, she had another small orgasm. Yet she knew she'd need to compose herself quickly. T

his was another opportunity to groom her boy. It was not enough to control his actions, she wanted to control his self perception. She wanted to control his mind.

As he came back to himself, her expression was replaced by shock and indignation. "Oh my lord!" That was the perfect tone, just what she was after. "Did you just...? Oh my goodness, you did! You did it again!"

When he was done convulsing and his breathing was regulating back to normal, she pushed him off her knee and onto the floor. He brought his hands to his lap to cover his wet shame.

Michele leaned forward and delivered a short but very smart slap to his face. "Don't you dare cover yourself, young man! Don't you dare! And just what do you have to say for yourself, you naughty, little boy?"

"I don't... I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, Ms. Michele. I didn't...I didn't mean to!"

"You ...'didn't mean to?' Really? Listen here, little mister."

Just then Tim's thoughts ran off with "little mister." References like this and naughty boy or goodness gracious, don't you dare, under any other circumstances would be a joke. These were the utterances of a bygone generation, spoken from cross mother to misbehaved son. They were so out of time that to hear them in any other context would make Tim smile. Here with Michele they were very serious.

Even if spoken playfully, it was the language of their affection. Just as easily they could be directed with force and displeasure. This is my life now.

"Are you listening to me?"

He knew he was close to another slap and he did not want this to devolve into a full blown slap down. "Yes, I'm sorry...I am listening Ms. Michele. I really did not mean to. I don't know what happened."

"Well I do. I know what happened: you lost control of yourself. You have absolutely no control of yourself, no self discipline. You should be ashamed of yourself."

"I am."

"Good. Listen, the only reason I do this, the only reason I spank your naughty bottom, other than when you actually deserve punishment, is because you like it so much. I do this for you so that we can be close. The weird thing is that I'm almost starting to enjoy it and I have you to blame for that."

Instantly Tim was overjoyed and more ashamed than ever.

"I might do this for you, but that does not mean I'm ready to go all the way. I'm way too young for sex. God, I feel like the victim of sexual assault or something. Yuck! And to feel that way from my own boyfriend! I'm so ashamed of you."

Looking up at her, he felt as through she was standing on top of him. He was so frightened. He was not sure if she was going to slap him or leave him because he was so disgusting.

"Oh. My. God! Oh my god!" Balanced atop her knee was a single dollop of creamy boy cum about the size of a nickel.