The Perfect Beginning Ch. 03

He was deeply disturbed by how crying was becoming a regular thing. She liked making him cry and he was becoming so emotionally out of control! Every bit of it was so shameful. Why do I let her?

What's wrong with me?

Then Becky would come along and make it seem like he was the luckiest boy in town and it reassured him. Becky made being with Michele easier.

Then he'd find himself alone and he he was right back down at the bottom of the shame-pit.

Still, there were some things he'd held back from Becky. 

No one in his world, nobody other than Michele, nobody that he had any regular contact with, would ever know he was spanked.  He'd take that to the grave. 

He'd had the naked at school dream and assumed nothing would be worse than to discover oneself naked with kids one knew, laughing at you.  This was imagined as the lowest low.  And then he had the spanking school dream and imagined a new low. 

Young, little Michele walked into class and enthusiastically announced his spanking right in front of all these over-school kids many of whom respected him.  He awoke with a wide eyes and a shiver of pure dread down his spine.  Some secrets were forever.

His higher self, the part of him that knew what he let Michele do to him only had his full, objective attention when he was in the shame-pit. He needed to break up with Michele, to get away from her and re-acquire his autonomy and his self-respect.

Yet in this pit was only despair. It was narrow and confining. The walls of the pit were sheer and eighteen feet high. He could see light up above, but it was so far away. Up there was where healthy, normal people lived. There was no way up and out.

****

Her bff was clearly at odds with himself.  Her intuition told her that something important had happened.  She'd tried to coax it from him but he'd resisted sharing with her.  Yet in her sweet little way, Becky could be insistent.  She had her cute, little way with men.

Although terrified, Tim wondered what was the use of holding it all inside.  Becky always made things better.  So he told her of what happened last night at Nordstrom.

*

"I want to buy a whole new replacement set of underwear," Michele told the sales woman.

This made a lot of sense to Tim.  Michele was very clearly growing into womanhood, but still wore little-girl undies.  She wore little, cotton bikinis, half of which had cutsy cartoon images on them.  Countless times he'd kissed the cartoon image of a princess, cheerleader or unicorn adorning the crotch of Michele's panties.  

"Well let's get started," replied Brenda, the Norstroms saleswoman.  As a four hundred something year old and having worked retail for several months now, Brenda took Michele's measure and knew exactly how to steer her.  A girl, way too young to be dating the quiet guy she was with, spoke of a need to "grow up" fast.  Judging by her clothes and colors, she'd be a hundred 120 something year old.

And she was desperate to be a "woman."  She was pretty and did have a nice little body. 

Amazing butt!

So, thought Brenda, she's throwing away all her little girl undies and buying a more sophisticated set. 

Well good for the girl, but too bad she feels this is what she needs to do to keep her boyfriend.  And shame on him for taking advantage of such a sweet girl!  She wants to be a hundred eighty something year old like him and is probably having sex.

After showing her several pairs that were sure to catch the girl's eye, she was feeling a little rebuffed when none of her suggestions were approved by the young lady.

"All these are nice and all, but they are way too... I don't know... fancy or too grown up.  Do you have anything more..." Michele trailed off not knowing how to describe what she had in mind.  "Can we try the girl's section?"  

A look of total surprise washed over Brenda's attractive face for just an instant before she recovered with a smile.  

She led the young couple to the Young Ms. section and this time asked Michele what caught her eye.  "First of all, we'll need a couple packs of everyday, cotton panties.  In fact, I want everything to be stretch cotton.  I don't know, I suppose boyshorts and bikinis might be best.  Not too high waisted but not too low either, wide gusset and pink.  I'd like to focus mostly on panties that have at least some sort of pink accent.  I want them to scream 'girly,' or even 'little girl.'  I want them to be like little girl princess panties.  Something that makes her feel pretty and special."

This certainly was not what Brenda expected but showed her a set similar to what Michele described, which came in four different shades of pink.  She referred to "her;" are we shopping for her sister?

"I think the darker shades are best.  What do you think?" asked Michele.

"I think with your complexion, you could wear any of these, it's just a matter of preference."

"Oh, no, no, they are not for me," Michele smiled.  "They're for him," indicating the young man who had been up until just then, totally silent.  "He loves wearing panties," she said, just barley able to conceal her exhilaration behind a gleaming smile.  Michele felt her nipples go from hard to harder.

For a moment, Brenda was utterly confounded and unable to make any sense out of what was happening. 

Not her boyfriend?  Her gay pal?  

Michele savored the looks that contorted Tim's face.  In seconds he went from being totally shocked and mortified to being terrified.  At last a look that could only be described as one of silent pleading came upon him.  

Brenda quickly understood that she was becoming intimately connected with this young couple and was utterly amazed at the realization. 

Her initial assumptions about these young people had been completely wrong. 

Not gay!  The girl controls the man. How is this possible? Verrrrrrrry interesting.  He did not know they were shopping for him either.  He's scared...really scared!  She's blackmailing him? 

Brenda did not want to consider why she thought this was good, why she liked that he was straight and being coerced by the girl. 

This asshole probably crossed the line with her but now she has the goods on him.  Justice!

For a moment Brenda just smiled.  And with a deep breath, "In that case, I think I agree, the darker shade is better with his coloring, a hot pink, but I think he can do it all.  He could go from carnation pink to hot pink to ultra pink and look good doing it.  I think with his body type, finding the right cut is what is important." 

This could be fun. 

She crossed over to Tim and held the light pink bikinis up to his face to show the favorable contrast.  Seeing his fear, Brenda was surprised by how it all felt.

This is fun!

For Michele, these were the truly priceless moments.  Tim was again, because of Michele, in ego free fall.  Tim did not want to wear panties.  Michele knew he wanted nothing to do with them...except when they were on her of course. 

Making him do something that shamed and embarrassed him while sexualizing it at the same time, made Michele tingle all over. 

And she knew in the end, some part of Tim would come to want to wear panties because they would forever be associated with these profound feelings that Michele caused him.  He would struggle with conflict as he would always be a boy who naturally rejected femininity.  Yet in time, she would exert the power to make him want to wear them for her.

"Michele, please...can't we talk about this?"  

Oh Michele, girl, please say 'no.'

Brenda wanted the sale, but more importantly wanted to understand what was happening here.  

In response, Michele said to Brenda, "I see what you mean; the light pink looks good on him too."

"But Michele...these...these are for girls!" Tim hissed desperately.  He was trying to keep his voice low so as not to be heard, he was trying to contain his hysteria but he did draw the attention of a mother/daughter couple not far away.  "I can't wear these!"  

The daughter gave him a queer regard.

There was something about his fear, in this strange context, that began to physically and emotionally arouse Brenda.  She was a little disconcerted to discover the emergence of some sort of inner predator, but she chose not to think about that.

"Don't be silly, of course you can.  And you will.  There is nothing to discuss.  Now don't make a scene."

"Please Michele...please..."

For Brenda, it was not just his fear that aroused her, it was how a girl controlled him.  It seemed almost unnatural and for sure, darkly erotic.  She'd never seen anything remotely like it. Brenda suppressed an ongoing sense of puzzlement both at what she was witness to, or apart of, and her own reaction to it.

"Tim, I'm telling you for the last time, don't embarrass me.  If you make a scene, if you don't do as I tell you, if you don't obey me to the letter, I'll ask Brenda if we can use a changing room where I can put you over my knee."  Michele made sure to speak loud enough for not only Brenda to hear, but also the orbiting mother and daughter.  

Brenda was floored by the assertion but through force of will, maintained her composure.  She had to fight to keep her jaw from hitting the floor and was grateful for her years of disciplined poker playing.  The implication of a spanking was utterly beyond anything of this world.

Spanking a man?

It just wan't done.

The mother and daughter looked at one another and burst out laughing.  Without a word passing between them, they decided to hover about this unexpected and delightful theatre.  They pretended to shop as they listened intently to everything said.

Tim's heart stopped as he realized there was a crack in the vault in which he kept his darkest shame. 

They don't know me...they don't know me!

The shaken boy wondered how many children had been spanked by their mother's in those changing rooms.  How many moms smiled to themselves while shopping with the sounds of a spanking and the pleasurable knowledge of justice being served to the deserving bottoms of obstreperous and very deserving children.  Would they smile when they heard his spanking? 

Tim looked like he'd been punched in the stomach as he looked to Brenda, hoping she'd put an end to this.  

Brenda offered him the most delightful smile.  He knew instantly he'd not found an ally.  He knew she was into this, his humiliation.

Oh my sweet Lord!

Brenda fell unto utter amazement when unexpected delight reaching out of the dark to excite her. 

She spanks him!  Unreal!  How is this even possible?

With her warmest smile and gentlest tone, "Don't you worry, we will find you some undies that make you feel pretty and oh so special." 

After all, that's what my boss is always telling me to do. 

She smiled inwardly.

This was exactly what Michele hoped for when she planned this little outing.  She wanted to somehow claim Tim as her own.  She knew the chances of Tim meeting and succumbing to another woman who was as strong as herself were very slim, but she knew it was possible.  She never forgot how self conscious, embarrassed and ashamed Tim was at wearing panties to Cindy's party.  Tim would be mortified at anyone knowing he was in panties, and therefore, even with a stronger woman, he would resist taking down his pants for her.  Tim's reaction in the department store just confirmed that she'd made the right decision.

"You know, I always say shopping for panties is fun, but this is going to be extra special," said Brenda smiling brightly to them both.  "I've never helped a boy with panties before." Pinning Tim with the warmest smile, "Will these be your first big-girl panties?" 

Tim was speechless.

"I won't warn you again: don't embarrass me.  Answer the lady."

"I...uh, yes ma'am," came Tim's whispered response.

With a warmth of tone used for a shy girl shopping with her mother in the ladies section for the first time, "What's that darling?  I couldn't hear you."  And with a false kindness, she encouraged the 'girl,' "Speak up."  Brenda was shocked at how quickly and happily she jumped into this.  Her response was not at all like her, but the circumstances were so unique and she felt certain she was being given permission, by this wonderful girl, to indulge in this, until now, unknown pleasure. 

There was something so thrilling about it!  She simply loved his fear and she knew immediately that she wanted to stoke it, play with it.  This was all public, but somehow intimate and sexual.  Brenda was delighted to discover that the sexual undertones, coupled with his fear, elicited a sexual predator from within that she had no idea was there.  And the more comfortable she got with it, the more pleasure she took from it. 

Yet why is this so sexual?  Why is this turning me on? 

She knew she should feel guilty for her sudden attraction to all this, but she didn't.  And the girl made it all safe and alright.

"Yes," came Tim's slightly louder but intentionally abbreviated reply.  

"'Yes', what?" required Michele.

"Yes, they will be my first 'big girl panties,' Madam."

"Well I am so happy to help you both.  We are going to find you the prettiest, little, princess under-panties, I just know it!"  Turning to Michele "I'm already having so much fun!"  She felt it was important to communicate to Michele that whatever this was all about, whatever strange little journey they were setting off on, Brenda was on board. 

Hearing all this, and with the look of obvious excitement on her daughter's face, mom spoke up, addressing both Michele and Brenda, "I beg your pardon ladies, I'm terribly sorry, I hope you don't mind, but my daughter and I could not help but overhear your conversation.  Please don't think us rude." 

Mother had a very sonorous and symphonic, upper class British accent which spoke of superiority, cultivated sophistication and fine breeding. 

"My Miranda here is shopping for delicates as well."  And with a meaningful look at Michele, "Might we tag along with you for suggestions?"  

Her look and request meant one thing to Michele: I want my daughter to learn from you, and it was very complimentary.

Brenda turned to Michele, understanding well that she ran the show.  

Michele appraised the girl who, although a little older than Michele, looked so very young and whom she did not know from school.  Her colors shared that she was a hundred seventy something. The girl was tall, thin, delicate and pretty like her mother, excited, a little frightened of this new territory, yet very inquisitive.  Mother looked far more certain and keen for her daughter to come away from this a little more woman than girl.

In the blink of an eye Michele measured her own emotional threat level and with the assumption that these women were tourists, calculated that this was a risk well worth taking as Michele enjoyed playing teacher even as a girl. "It'll be fun," said Michele with a smile.  

Brenda, "It looks as though we are going to enjoy a little panty shopping party!"  

The ladies were in a fine mood, very relaxed as each wanted to take her sweet time with this extremely unusual and scintillating experience.  They all became acquainted with smiles.  Brenda turned to Dorothy and Miranda explaining that it was only fair that she focus her attention on her boy customer, since she was helping him first, but to please ask as many questions as they liked. 

"Besides, as we just found out," fixing Tim with a wolfish smile, "these will be his first big-girl panties.  I want this to be special for him.  And it seems he's fond of 'little girl, princess' panties!"  

She went on to suggest 'undies' that were described as "pretty, darling, precious, fun," and  Michele's favorite (and secretly Tim's too) "sassy." 

The ladies really did seem to have a fun time of it.  Michele especially delighted in holding up certain pairs to Tim's arm to check the coloring.  She could see that even Miranda was overcoming her nervousness and relaxing into the fun of it all.  They spent at least an hour discussing colors, textures and above all the cuts that would look best on Tim.

Dorothy and Miranda didn't even pretend to be shopping for themselves any longer and were just as much a part of hunting for the best pair of panties for Tim as the other two ladies were.

The entire event was a profound realization for Tim.  To be sure, throughout the entirety of his relationship with Michele he suffered at the question of his own autonomy.  He never felt in control of his own life and this profoundly devastating sensation haunted him constantly.  Yet he told himself, in spite of evidence to the contrary, that he still had the ability to leave Michele. 

As this evening began, as it really began, as Michele made clear to him what they were doing, the voice of independence emerged from from some distant recess and spurred him to run. 

Yet with Michele's happy announcements and happy wonderings, with Brenda's ambivalent and quickly warm acceptance, and with Dorothy's declarative approval and Miranda's furtive yet growing arousal, Tim's urgent warning to get out and just run, signaled as a mere whisper. Uncertainty and fear took over.

In spite of his need to flee, he found himself inching closer to Michele, relying on Her protection.  On a couple occasions, he discovered himself holding her hand while he stood behind Michele, attempting to shield himself from all the trauma. 

Having the women talk about him as though he were not there or was unworthy of consultation was unnerving to say the least.  He felt so objectified, so trivialized.  But what was he going to say?  He did not want any of this, but it was happening.  And he knew nothing of panties.

"I think this would be a fun and complimentary cut for him."  Looking to Michele, "May I?"

"Certainly."  Michele appreciated the deference, it reassured her.

Brenda stood next to Tim while handling the panties by the elastic waist-band and held them up and over his bulging erection as though to appreciate the look and possible fit.  She looked like the brilliantly pleased matador holding out her pink cape for the very aroused but subdued bull. "What do you think, ladies?"

Until now, Tim had adhered to his tried and true approach to public erections: he simply pretended not to know he was hard and possibly noticeable and, so as to avoid even more social tension and awkwardness, most people tried their best not to notice too.  Yet Brenda thrilled at training all eyes on his bulging crotch.  She smiled at her new lady friends, allowing another to compliment the look.

"Oh, I like that," declared Dorothy.  "Very pretty, but still appropriately little-girl."  

Tim hated that they were looking at his arousal, but was confused and was not sure what upset him more, that they delighted in dressing his manhood in panties or that his bulge was so small or insignificant as to be regarded as "little girl." 

Is she saying it's small?  Of course she is. 

He hated that they spoke of Missy that way. 

Fuck, what the hell has she done to me!

"Yes," added Michele, "almost like a little girl trying to be a big girl."  The ladies laughed.

The feeling had long since emerged but at times like this, it shot to the fore of his consciousness.  It was as though he were driving down the street with a smile on his face and not a care in the world but was suddenly t-boned by cement mixer.  Everything slowed down and he was able to fully appreciate that there was nothing he could do, forces consumed him of which he had no control.  He knew intellectually that along the way, he'd made choices, but he could not help but feel like this all just happened to him.

"Oh, I almost forgot, may I suggest a pair of Hello Kitties?  Every little girl should have a pair."  Michele enjoyed the joke almost as much as Brenda.