The Perfect Beginning Ch. 03

Tim did not like where this was going.  Even if he won whatever little contest she was about to propose, he knew better than to think Michele would ever be his bitch.  He was frightened of any outcome that would even suggest such a thing. 

"Come here.  Get on your knees."  Tim's fear made him eager to obey. 

With a look of total confidence, Michele reached under her cute, little, pleated, school girl skirt and slipped off her panties with a dramatic and adorable little one - two - three shimmy. She stood akimbo, small, hard breasts jutting proudly and with a very smug expression, literally looking down her nose at him.  

It occurred to Tim that he'd gone to his knees on command, which certainly put this 'contest' in perspective.  

"Feeling like my bitch now?"  

Tim looked almost panicky and his balls were really starting to ache.  Was he supposed to stand up for his manhood?  He knew he did not want to piss off Michele, but he did not want to be anybody's bitch and to top it off, he was at the perfect slapping latitude.  

"Kind of looks like it to me," she taunted.  "Okay, get on your hands and knees, like a dog.  Like my bitch." 

Michele stood next to Tim's head and brazenly held her wadded up panties to his nose and mouth.  Coincidentally, they were having a little, late fall heatwave, first period PE had been especially rigorous and it had been a looooong day. 

She just wanted to give him a good, long draw.  Michele smiled as she felt like a super villain, like Catwoman holding chloroform over Batman's face.  And the effect was just as instantaneous. 

Tim closed his eyes as he greedily breathed in Michele's musk.  Even on the panties, it was very strong.  As ever, Tim entered a whole new level of arousal.  The combination of pee, sweat and Michele's pussy were overwhelmingly and masterfully pungent.  Her natural scent did its work on her boy. 

Unbeknownst to him, his hips took on the now familiar slow, humping motion that Michele had come to both expect and appreciate. 

Look at that! 

She loved the feeling of being the powerful, sexy, naughty girl and holding her worn panties over a boys face was oh so naughty! 

It's my super power!  I'm Catwoman! Oooooo, maybe a Catwoman tattoo!

He issued a singular pleading, which was some amalgam of a moan and a whimper.  

Tim simply needed it.  It was his heroin. 

Her smile settled into a smirk.  Michele retracted the panties and Tim slowly opened his eyes.  "Hello, anybody there?" To Tim, Michele's smirk always made him feel small and always made her look her sexiest.  "Feeling like my bitch yet?" she asked cheerfully.  

Tim's face flushed crimson and he could not hold her stare, but he said nothing.  He was desperate to hold onto his masculine dignity.   The ache in his balls became a sort of burning throb.   

Michele saw the fear, confusion, tension, shame and desire on his red face and thought he looked adorable.  She enjoyed that he was trying to fight his nature and stand up to her. 

He's trying to get that monkey off his back.  Yes, fight, fight, fight!  Fight against the mean girl.  It's so cute.

Inspired, Michele pushed him from behind, forcing him back to all fours.  She straddled her pony-boy.  Once sitting on his back, she arranged her panties over his face.  Pulling hard on the elastic waistband, the crotch pulled tightly over his face. 

Her scent was so strong, he simply could not think. 

She assumed her sexy rider pose with her knees splayed and bent deeply with feet resting heel to heel across her boy's lower back.  Posing, she watched herself in the mirror and appreciated how pretty and imperious she looked.  She knew she looked her best, her sexiest, when adorned in power. 

She also LOVED the look of the panties splayed out and stretched tightly over Tim's face.  The crotch ran vertical to his face and was centered perfectly over his mouth and nose.  She thought of it as a sort of face-bit for her mindless sex pony. 

Michele always felt like a horny, powerful, little girl when she played horsey.  In private, she still loved little girl games.  She loved being an imperious, powerful, little girl who got to play with grown men as though they were her dollies.

Michele pulled back on the panty-reigns and roughly guided his head from side to side as though fighting a willful horse.  She felt wonderfully wicked as she considered how she wanted to suffocate him with her scent.

After a few minutes of letting him drown in her musk, she stood up, removed the sacred garment from his face and commanded him up on his knees.  Michele grabbed a fist full of hair and as she pulled Tim's head back, she stepped into him, fitting her crotch over his face. "Now don't kiss me or anything." 

And as his face made its way slowly into her crotch, he heard, "No kissing now.  That's right, just snuggle in there. Just think about how important it is to make me happy.  Nuzzle up into my hot, little-girl crotch."  From innocent, playful little girl to naughty, playful, powerful little girl.

Tim eagerly pushed his face into her pubes and immediately lost himself.  Michele's sexy, little pussy, her full bush, was the strongest Tim had ever experienced.  The scent of sweat, arousal and pee was way more than he could handle with rational thought.  He'd never experienced such an intoxicating sex high in his life. 

The urge to lick and suck almost overtook him.  He somehow wanted to drink her scent and consume her sexual essence. He had to hold on! 

He could only vaguely hear Michele's encouragement and words about pleasing her, "...only thing that matters..." how much she gives to him, and something about him being so "...ridiculously selfish." 

She stood over him, hips extended out over his face, one hand snaked through his hair and the other on her hip.  After a moment or so, she actually arranged her little skirt right over his up turned face and head. 

Now this is keeping my boy beneath me! 

She knew that with each breath, he became more and more lost to his addiction.  She smirked down at him as his hips resumed the slow, familiar humping rhythm.  

Michele dismounted his face and smiled down at him expectantly as he slowly came back to his senses.  Tim had never known such desperation in all his life.  

Michele smiled broadly and happily as she delivered a very powerful, wide arching, downward slap to his face.  "Awake down there?" still beaming. 

Who said a girl had to scowl when slapping her boy? 

During times like these, Michele saw it as a joyous occasion and did not mind in the least sharing her happiness.

"Heel," She led him to the sofa by his hair.  Michele sat down and guided her special boy's face between her legs, stopping him several inches short of her crotch.  

His ears were in line with her knees and he stared at her bush.  Tim could just catch a little of her musk and was crazy for more.  Tim's balls literally hurt with a sort of throbbing, inner-burn and his cock was dribbling a steady flow of pre-cum and bounced with involuntary, spastic contractions.  

The sight of red discoloration on Tim's cheek filled her with happiness. 

"Now listen carefully, little boy.  Kind of seems like you are tired of me making all the decisions.  So this is your big stand, your big chance to change it all.  It's about time you found your courage and put on your big-boy pants."  Her smile mocked the very notion. 

"You are going to stand up to your bossy, Bitch of a girlfriend and be a man...for once.  You are going to show me how strong you are, show me what a big man you are!  You are going to make me suck your cock.  After all, a good, little, girlbitch goes down on her guy, like, whenever he wants.  Isn't that right?  Isn't that what you think?" 

And Tim did have some vague and primitive notion that it sort of was supposed to be like that.  It wasn't that he ever in his life expected it, but it did comport with a blurry image he kept in his closet.

"You are going to just put me right down on my dainty, little girly knees, like you are right now and make me suck that big, hard cock into my tight, wet, pretty little mouth.  You are going to make me suck you gently for the longest time, just keeping your cock hard there in my warm, wet, gently sucking mouth. 

"It will calm and tame me; it will be like my sexy little-girl pacifier, my cock binkie." 

With extreme baby voice, "Big man is really teaching me my place.  Soon you'll really make me want it.  You will make me need it like so badly.  You will tame me with your cock and train me to be your needy, little cock sucking sex-kitten.  You will make me all weak and whimpery with desperation."  With big eyes and the sweetest little girl voice, "I just won't know what to do with myself if I'm not sucking your man-cock and pleasing you. I'll always be obedient and unsure of myself if I'm not sucking you off or making you happy in some way. 

"And you'll get to fuck me any time you want.  You'll bend me at the waist and slowly push your big man cock deep into my wet, little pussy.  You will make me addicted to your cock."  

Not only did everything Michele say sound like nonsense, it made him very uneasy. Tim knew she was summing up and reflecting back to Tim his own small world view and position in life.  Also, she was making it seem like he was responsible for putting her in this position, and with it all out in the open, and described in this way, Tim knew it demonstrated how fundamentally wrong it all was.  She was not meant for this.  

"You are going to make me suck until you squirt like gallons of man-cum into my pretty mouth, down my throat and into my flat, little tummy.  That way, I'll be branded for  life and always know my place in the relationship. 

"Soon, I'll just need to swallow man-cum like all the time; I'll be like crazy for it.  I'll crave it.  I'll be like, totally addicted to your thick, creamy man-cum.  If you aren't putting cum in me somehow, I'll feel lost, alone, desperate and insecure. 

"You know what that's like don't you, boy?"  She smiled brightly, knowingly.

He did know.  If he wasn't going down on Michele, he wanted to be going down on her.  Michele's scent haunted Tim and nothing in the world was greater than breathing in her pungent bush and munching on her sweet, hot, little box.  It was his purpose.  He hungered for her pussy always.

At this moment, Tim had never needed to cum so badly in his life and his balls throbbed with a constant burning sensation.  As much as he wanted Michele to get him off, the way she described it all sounded so profoundly wrong and actually offensive.  

"All you have to do is stand up and tell me to do it and I will.  You'll need to make me switch places with you. All you have to do is be a man, a real man.  I'll be your sweet, hot, horny, weak, and...eager little girlbitch and I'll suck your cock on command, from now on, forever."  Michele smiled brightly as she saw his pained and desperate expression.  She let that hang for a few beats.

Then, "Or...if you ask me real nicely, in your softest, sweetest, prettiest little voice if you can kiss my perfect, little girl pussy, I might let you...but only if you really mean it. 

But that makes you my bitch!"  Michele laughed as she enjoyed this so much.

"So what's it going to be, boy?  Which is more important: you being a man, or wearing the panties yourself and getting to kiss my pretty, little kitty?  My hot, steamy, horny little pussy? 

"Look at my pussy Tim.  Is it really so important to be a man?  Remember, this is a big decision and after you make it, there is no going back.  Do you really want to lose me as your babysitter?"

Tim began shaking.  "I want you to su...suck my...you know" As he was about to say 'cock', intuition told him it would anger her and he'd have only himself to blame for the slap down she'd certainly and in his own mind, rightfully give him.  "...but, but I need to...need to...please, please Ms. Michele, may I please kiss you...here?"  

As the first tears ran from Tim's eyes, Michele giggled down at him. 

Poor baby is so broken.

He felt her hot breath on his face as she leaned in close to laugh intimately in his face. 

Tim cried almost as much from saying goodbye to his manhood and the near overwhelming need to relieve his throbbing balls as from his desperate need to just smell Michele's crotch and to feel her love once more.  He hated that he'd provoked her and wished things could just go back to how they'd been.

Michele's eyes went big and with plenty of mock sympathy, "Well look at you, you're crying!  You want to kiss my pretty pussy so badly, you are crying."  Michele stood back up, towering over her kneeling boy. 

"Do big strong men cry because they want to please under-school girls?  Do men cry because they just like totally need to kiss their 120 something year old girlfriend's pussy?"

"N...no."

"No.  No they don't."  

Tim felt his physical vulnerability grow as Michele began pacing leisurely, like a cat before him.  She looked especially happy and girlish, but Tim had learned that that was often when she was her most cruel and vicious.  He half expected her to suddenly whirl and slap him once more.  He willed himself still in preparation. 

"A real man would not get all weepy and needy.  A real man would just take control.  Isn't that right?  Isn't that what a real man would do?  Wouldn't he take control and fuck me like I was his little sex-doll?"

"Y...y...yes."  He flinched, fearing that imagined slap for agreeing with her assessment of what a real man might do.

 "But not you.  You are crying. What does that make you, baby?"

"Not a real man?" he asked weakly.

"Well for sure we agree, you are not a real man."  Swaying her little hips and striking "thoughtful" poses with exaggerated and matching gesticulations made Michele feel as though she were on a stage.  She knew she looked super cutsy, little girl and she enjoyed how that looked in contrast to the seriousness of their discussion.  She felt a little like a performer and she knew every bit of it effected her boy profoundly. 

She kind of wished some of her friends could see this. 

"It is good that you accept that.  But that is what you are not.  I want to know what you are.  What are you?"

"Am I... your bitch?" he asked sniffling.

"Yes!" Michele said gleefully while clapping her hands before her excitedly. 

Just then, she looked like a seven year old girl marveling for the first time at the trained dog show at the circus. "See Tim, you're the bitch," she said gleefully and sweetly.  "Actually, you are my bitch. My little girlbitch. My lap dog.  You'll never, ever be a man to me.  That must be hard for you.  I know you used to think you were a man. Instead...you are my bitch, my boy-bitch...or my girl-bitch, whichever, forever.  Or until I'm done with you," Michele said cheerfully.

Tim was totally devastated, but he knew what he needed to do.  Looking Michele in the eyes, "Ms. Michele," he said gently, "I'm sorry.  I did not realize how...(and it was hard to say), selfish I'd been.  I'm so sorry. 

"And...and I want to be your bitch.  I really do want to be your good bitch."  Part of him could not believe what he was saying, but he also knew it was true.  He was constantly amazed that Michele often saw his own, inner-truth before he did.  She knew him better than he knew himself.

Michele's heart leapt with joy and she smiled with surprise, affection and self satisfaction.  "You should be proud to be my little girlbitch."  She felt true love for her guy.

"I...I am, and all I really want to do is to go down on you...for you...for us.  May I please...if it is alright?"

"We've taken a really big first step, Tim, but you have a lot to learn.  Going down on me, well...that's like your job now, like your duty.  You really do need to think of it as your higher purpose.  It should be sacred to you. 

"And it's good that you want to, because that is a big reason why you are my bitch.  And being my bitch needs to be important to you now.  Like really important.  See yourself as the bitch. See yourself as my bitch. 

"You are less than me.  But that's okay, as long as I keep you. 

"I want you to be a good, little bitch, a proud bitch. I want you to always be thinking about how you can be the best little bitch and how you can be a better bitch. 

"Needing to kiss me here, (indicating her crotch) and begging to do it, comes naturally to you.  You're like my own little...pussy-slave.  She owns you.  And you need to be both dedicated and completely grateful that I let you.  You should be proud of yourself when you do a good job."  

"I am," Tim said quickly, not caring how obsequious it sounded.

It was embarrassing and he wanted to hide from it, but Tim heard the truth in everything she said.  He already was so proud and excited every time he made Michele cum.  He could not even count the number of times in their relationship that he'd already reverently asked her if he could suck her off.  It already was the emotional highlight of his day.  He already kind of knew it was the only thing that really mattered.

And here she ceased her pacing and stood over him. "I know you are, but you need to know that I'm never putting your little penis in my mouth.  Ever. 

"You shouldn't even want me to."  Michele stood with one hand on her cocked hip, with a look of thoughtful superiority on her face.  Her nipples were all but punching through her threadbare and way too tight Mr. Bubbles t-shirt and her pushed out bottom was any man's dream.  

Tim looked up at her and thought he'd never seen one look more like a mean girl, more of a Bitch, more beautiful nor more alluring in his whole life.  She was utterly perfect to him.   

"It's important," she continued, "for you to know that I'm like...and I want you to know that I'm being as nice as I can possibly be when I say this...like totally superior to you...I'm better than you.  It's part of why you belong to me and not the other way around. 

"Not only will you never put your teeny-tiny thing in my mouth, it's important that you not even want to. 

"And you need to honestly not want me to want to do it either.  You need to see how totally...inappropriate that is since I'm so much better than you. 

"Now I want you to look inside and really...I don't know, search your feelings or something."  Pausing for a few beats, "Listen carefully now. I want you to ask...no, I want you to beg me to never... never...ever...ever...EVER," and upon the last "ever" she reached down and slapped her boy as hard as she'd ever slapped him across the face just for emphasis...and because she just LOVED slapping him, "...put your little boy dicklet in my mouth."  She smiled warmly at him.  "And you really have to mean it. 

"Remember, now you know you are not a man and never were.  Think about it, you don't even want me to, do you?"

Tim was devastated at the realization and it was a lot for him to accept.  While slapping was not unusual, he knew he'd never desensitize to being slapped.  Michele enjoyed his shell shocked expression.  

Challenging was the realization that she'd never do for him what he did for her every day, but devastating was Michele's perception of him as something other than a man.  Did that make it so? he wondered.  And immediately he knew that in fact it did. 

"I...I understand my place," he said quietly as he rubbed burning cheek, his cock pulsed and his balls burned with desire.

"And?" 

"I...um...Ms. Michele, would you please..." and then Tim paused briefly and really thought about this, what he was to say and the import of it all.  He almost just spoke the words simply because they were expected.  He grew suddenly anxious.  They were so young, but Tim wanted to be with his love for the rest of his life.  Was he saying no to this forever?  Was he vowing never to enjoy this singular pleasure?  It was so final and he could hear the steel prison gate sliding closed and for the one and only time.  He was almost seized by panic and then he willed himself still.