The Perfect Beginning Ch. 25

This is the 25th installment of an ongoing story about Michele a and Tim. For sure, it is a disturbing relationship and is in no way intended to describe something healthy or ideal. Emotional sadism is central to it all. If this bothers you, this is not the story for you and I suggest you venture elsewhere.

What makes the story interesting to me is what takes place in the minds of the characters. Withouts words and ideas and the feelings that go with them, it's all just mechanics and honestly, that's not so interesting to me. Simple, pure fucking is a great thing to do. I don't need to read about it. Perhaps when I was verrrrrrrry young, that alone would have intrigued me. Now...yawn. This is a dark, emotional journey. I hope you enjoy it.

The following preface is cut and pasted from installment II. For a more comprehensive understanding of their world, you can venture back to the first installment. Read it or skip it.

This story takes place in a very male dominant society, one which is even more patriarchal than our own. Our hero, Michele, is enchanted by the discovery of her own sexual super power. Poor, lucky Tim, on the other hand comes to realize that he falls under Michels's spell, he does not measure up to societal expectations. These two young people are discovering and becoming as they grow together as a couple.

Psychological conflict and tension are central themes in this saga.

*

The story has been formatted to meet the publishing requirement of our host and I am hopeful the necessary kinks have been worked out.

A more complete preface can be found at the beginning of the first installment and if you did not read it, it could be helpful to do so. Here are some of the contextual parameters of the fictional world the story takes place within.

* People are legal adults at 18 years of age.

* People usually live to about 2,000 years of age.

* The cultural norm has almost all legal adults living with their family of origin until they turn 200 years old.

* Young people between the ages of 18 and 200 are treated as and referred to as children when they choose to continue living with their parents.

* Young people between the ages of 18 and 200 often behave much as we would expect teenagers to behave here in our world. They are kept in a state of arrested emotional development.

* Young people between the ages of 18 and 200 years customarily consume "blockers" which prevent them from having sexual feelings or impulses.

* Often young people will begin to "date" around 160 yers of age and while they are expected to continue to take their blockers, some will surreptitiously stop taking them while a few will stop responding to them.

* Age and masculinity are revered in this world. Everybody looks up to their elders and few seriously question the patriarchy.

All characters in the story are over 18 years of age.

It is customary for those below the age of 200 to demonstrate their status by wearing clothing which signify to others that they are off limits. They would wear what we would think of as children's clothing. Remember, an 18 year old and a 1,900 year old would look exactly the same age, so children's clothes are very useful for signaling to those over 200 years to abstain from any romantic or sexual pursuit of another who was deemed of an inappropriate age.

Lastly, sex is not technically illegal for people between the ages of 18 and 200 years. It is considered profoundly taboo. Adult-children (18+) do have sex but it is kept very quiet. Some parents punish their children for engaging in this sinful pleasure and adult-children almost never tell-on one another in this regard, even those who might not like one another. Adult children live by a code and violation of said code subjects one to complete ostracization. Almost none experiment until they are well over 160 years old.

****

****

Tim was inconsolable regarding his loss. He was left behind while his bestie was selected ahead of him to live with his One Love. It took a while before he stopped crying for good.

Though Donna expected him to run her home, it was not as though she was insensitive or heartless about his sense of loss. While she would allow no slacking in Tim's domestic duties, she was no less serious about her role and responsibilities as his Mother.

Tim cared for the house. Donna made this easier for him in a way as she took the time to script for him a cleaning routine. "If you are going to care for our home, you might as well do it right."

In many ways, Donna was just as controlling as her daughter, and in some ways, more so. He continued to do all the shopping and at least some of the cooking and he ran errands for Donna.

Donna's perception of Tim in this niche alternated between that of a boy-maid and as her son fulfilling his chores. Regardless, the outcome had better be a tidy home.

For the first time since she'd had Michele, Donna enjoyed some free time. Her business was a smashing success and she was able to pay a highly competent young woman to run it while she reacquainted herself with...herself.

She continued to work plenty and manage her business, but now she could do other things. She joined a private tennis club where several of her wealthy and very much liked clients where exclusive members.

Donna had been a very good tennis player since childhood and advanced far while in under-school. With her unexpected early pregnancy, all that went away.

Recently, she played tennis three to four times a week with the girls before a light and leisure lunch, usually at the club.

All the women were eager to set Donna up with an eligible guy and all were excited and eager to cozy up to the single life as lived vicariously through their pretty, unattached friend Donna. Donna often drove away from their easy and delightful lunch time get togethers smiling like that cat that ate two canaries.

She maintained a lot of object clarity about her life and felt tremendous gratitude. She felt her life should be savored.

Her working of Tim was not just for her. She explained to him that through service, he would get his mind off his loss. She was right, to a degree.

It took Tim a long time to come out of his pain, but he did recover and the work helped...both of them. As hard as she worked Tim, she also loved and mothered her adoring son. And private, intimate servitude was a form of motherly love and proved most therapeutic to the boy.

Though she grew up with wealth, Donna was nonetheless surprised to discover she had a knack for the rich life. Once she had Michele, her wealthy lifestyle became a thing of the past and she spent years living a very frugal life. Through all the hard years, there was a spoiled rich woman trying to get out.

When she arrived home, Tim was on point. He was expected to check in with her immediately, but to do so in silence. He was now, very clearly in his boy-maid role. He'd stand before her and wait for her to speak.

She did like formal routines, such as how he greeted her upon arrival. If she were to ring a hand-bell, he was to present formally. If while serving as a houseboy, he disappointed her, discipline was meted out in a formal manner though still over the knee. Donna believed that simply because discipline was formal did not mean it should not be intimate.

She kept very close tabs on the boy and knew where he was at all times. He was required to ask for permission to participate in anything that was not a part of his daily routine.

More often than not, they enjoyed a normal, warm, easy going (as long as he did what was expected) relationship. That is to say that while he served, they enjoyed sharing thoughts, feelings, and insights in the warm sunshine of their mutual love and affection.

Donna got a kick out of how she could give his ass a nice smack when he walked by or when he was bent over. She absolutely hated herself and Michele's father when he used to do that to her. In this relationship, the display never got old and it always made Tim feel sexy and proved a suitable affirmation of his Mother's love and acceptance.

She loved how while he made dinner for them, she could move into him, reach under his apron and grab his balls firmly in one hand while gently stroking his smoothly shaven face with the back of her other hand. Looking him dead in the eye (Donna loved how when holding a man's balls, she had his undivided attention) she asked, "Who's Mommy's good little boy?"

She loved how when he always responded with a shy and red faced, "I am, Mommy," she could always see him emotionally melt with the needed affection.

She loved his vulnerability to her.

After dinner, they enjoyed a very, very intimate Mother, son relationship.

Tim absolutely loved his Mommy and was so immensely grateful to be her son. Whether he was massaging her, doing her nails, rubbing her feet while she read, nursing at her hard nipples, licking her sacred pussy or pushing his face deep into her beautifully round bottom and sucking hungrily and mindlessly on her pretty anus, life almost felt like it was back in balance.

It wasn't of course, but it was a welcome escape. The best times were when she cuddled him in bed, gently molesting her son's body while they reaffirmed their love for one another. With her arms around him and her tongue in his mouth, he felt such love and connection. Mother's love was very therapeutic for the troubled boy and his need for her in this capacity was ever present.

"I love you, I love you, I love you, Mommy." He was half lidded and giddy.

****

Tim approached his mother's bed where she reclined with a book. He waited as unobtrusively as he could until she addressed him.

Putting her book down on the side table, "Mmmmm there's my boy. And how is my teenage boy tonight?"

In a gentle voice, "I'm well, Mother."

"You are a good, respectful boy. I do appreciate your manners and that you address me formally as 'Mother.' Who's my good boy?"

"I...I am, Mother...or I try to be. I always want to be good for Mother."

She smiled lovingly at her son. "Here and now you can call me Mommy. That's comforting to you, isn't it?"

"Oh yes, Mommy." He brightened but knew to keep his enthusiasm in check. Enthusiasm had a way of appearing like willfulness. Willfulness was something Mother simply would not allow from her boy.

"Of course you do. Come to Mommy." She patted the bed beside her.

Tim knew to read his mother's mood. There were times when enthusiasm was acceptable, but only when matching Mother's energy. Certainly, Donna could be playful and enjoyed a mirthful, playful son. Not now, however. Tim crawled gently onto his Mother's bed and snuggled in next to her and closed his eyes. "I love you, Mommy."

"Of course you do and Mommy loves you too." Tim's whole body went flush with warmth. This was the affection he no longer got from Michele. He felt like he could just float off the bed with his Mother's loving attention. He felt safe and cherished and dreamy. Her warmth and smell excited and settled him.

Love my Mommy.

She brushed his face and put a gentle kiss on his cheek. She ran her hand down his arm and then the game began. "Oh, forgive your mother. Honestly, I can be such a silly-head. At last you are a teenager! What youngster wants his mother's loving caress? Did that bother you, Timmy? Did Mommy upset her baby boy?"

"No, Mommy, no!" eager to dispel such thoughts. "It's okay. I...I liked it. I love you so much, Mommy."

Smiling, "You still need your Mother's love, don't you, little boy?"

"Yes, Mommy."

"Who's my little boy?"

"I am, Mommy."

This was magic to Donna. She simply loved the marriage of real, romanic love and sexual perversion. Molesting her son was to Donna, life's greatest pleasure.

She continued to smile warmly and the love poured from her gentle touch. With Tim laying on his side, she'd pet his arm, hip and upper thigh. She gently guided him to lay on his back.

Tim eagerly drank in the attention, his Mother's love. He knew she enjoyed his hard body and when she ran her fingertips over his abs, he enjoyed gently flexing for her. It was so loving and sweet and he needed it so desperately. He needed to be the focus of her attention and the source of her pleasure.

Please, please think I'm pretty, Mommy.

The boy needed to be needed.

Yet there was a pacing to this game and Tim knew his role.

"I have the very prettiest Mommy."

"That's my good boy."

Leaning over him, she gave him the softest, most sensual, lingering kiss on his cheek. Pulling away, she took in her pleasure. On her son's face was a look of unadulterated and radiant love, love for his Mother. She did it again and was treated to the softest sigh of pleasure from her adoring son. Once more she leaned down and enjoyed the very same kiss on his lips.

Pulling away her eyes went large with concern, "Oh my, was that okay of Mommy? Was that too much of a kissy-kiss for my boy? Is it okay for Mommy to give her little boy a kissy-kiss?"

"It's okay, Mother," he said beseechingly. "I...I...I liked it."

"Did you now? Does my little boy love Mommy's kissy-kiss?"

"Yes, Mother. It's okay...really. I know you just want to show me your affection. And I...and I really, really like it! I love you, Mommy."

"We'll just see about that. You are a good boy and you love your mother very much. But if you want your mother's love and my loving kisses, I'll not share you with another."

Tim's love and his need for his mother's love and attention was paramount. "Yes, Mother. Only for you."

"That means you will need to break off your cute little relationship with your girlfriend, Justine."

In this fantasy, he and his imaginary girlfriend were off their blocker.

Without hesitation, "Yes, Mother." This always reminded him of when Michele made him call Mindy when back in high school.

It seemed the Lanza women knew how to keep their boys well under their skirts.

"And once you have your Mother's love and her kisses, well, you'll never be allowed to be with another. There is a magic that comes with this kind of love. Once you take your Mother's love and she gives you her special kiss, you will need it forever and ever and ever and ever.

"A romantic kiss between mother and son is so special, it is magical.

"Once I cast this loving spell on you, you will do anything for my love and attention. You will never be with another girl. You will be my boy and you will belong to me. Mommy will own you, little boy.

"Yet I will not belong to you. Mommy may sometimes be with men, yet you will never be a man. No matter how old you become, you will be my loving teenager, forever and ever. This magic will keep you a boy forever."

Donna smiled as she cast her spell on her son. Her sharp fingernails tranced lightly, almost absent mindedly over one of Tim's erect nipples.

"You will have to obey your Mother always, in all things. Do you understand?" she said sweetly, teetering on her baby voice.

"Yes, Mother, yes Mommy!" he responded as though begging.

"Okaaaaay," with a tone that belied that her son might regret his decision. "Ask nicely."

"Please, please, Mommy, give me your kissy-kiss!" Though his voice was quiet and intimate, it was laced with desperation. "Please, I'll do anything. I want to be your boy forever and ever. I'll do as you say forever and ever. Please own me. Please, Mommy. May I pretty-please have your kissy-kiss."

She leaned down and kissed his lips again as gently as she could. She took her time as she wanted this moment to last. She liked keeping them both on the edge. Eventually she licked her sweet, loving boy's lips and joyed in feeling him shudder with need. They both knew it was the magic. And then her tongue slipped into his eager mouth and she was almost there.

"Almost there, baby boy." She smiled and he was already lost to her.

They'd played this game many times so she did not need to direct him. She liked to imagine it was now the magic that guided her son's actions. She bewildered, charmed and manipulated him in the most sensual and wicked way.

As she lay back on the pillows, he came to her. Face at her chest, he waited with barely concealed impatience for her to reveal a very long and oh so erect nipple for him to suckle. As he went from one to the other, the cycle was complete and the spell had been cast. Each shuddered with need.

After allowing him the longest time to worship her blessed body, she pulled him off of her. She felt so wonderfully wicked. In a concerned baby voice, "I wonder if little Timmy should not have done that." Changing her tone, "Mommy can be kinda...kinda bad. I can be a bad Mommy," she said with relish. "Now you are going to be Mommy's slave. You are going to learn to be Mommy's pussy slave, forever and ever. Mommy owns you now."

"I love you so much, Mommy!"

She smiled down at him feeling most pleased. As though surprised, she looked down at what her playful fingertips were doing to her son's oh so hard nipple. "Why look at that! Goodness gracious! My son has the most sensitive nipples. Why if I did not know better, I'd say you had little-girl nipples," she said playfully.

Tim smiled with her, overjoyed at the lightheartedness of the moment.

"Maybe Tomorrow Mommy will put you in a training bra and keep you as her little girl!"

They smiled happily.

She went back to kissing her son and feeling up his hard body. Like her daughter, she was patient with her pleasure and liked to luxuriate in the sensation and the intimacy. The two would touch and kiss for the longest time, each driving the other crazy with need. She enjoyed taking her time because, like Michele, she knew her orgasm was inevitable. And it was love and sex like she'd never known and she enjoyed both luxuriating in it and savoring it. She so loved the journey.

And she loved putting him to bed hard for her. She slept better knowing that he tossed and turned with unsatisfied need for her, his loving mother.

****

Some time in January of Michele's freshman year, mother and daughter were sharing a few moments on the phone. They usually spoke once or twice a week and before hanging up, Michele always inquired about Tim (that was if their entire conversation did not involve their boy.)

"Do you ever notice how when you two are intimate, how he...god, I can't believe I'm embarrassed to ask this, but you really should know. You know how after a long day...when you are not your most fresh, let's say...ever notice how it effects your loving son?"

"Wait a minute, what exactly are you getting at? What are we talking about?" Donna thought she knew what Michele was talking about, but she still squirmed when it came to discussing explicit sex. It was worse when with her own daughter. Donna was first and foremost, a virtuous Continuant woman and mother.

Michele smiled with pleasure and discomfort both, as she continued, "You know Mom, like when your sweet, adoring son kisses mommy after you have had a long day. Like if you taught a class that day, say in the morning."

It was all she could say without just coming and being blunt: have you ever let him go down on you after you have let a good day's sweat dry on your vagina?

"Okay, so like if you were to teach a morning class and then not shower all day. Maybe you keep your workout outfit on all day, and then in the evening, you are with you boy. Ever notice what it does to him?"

"Young lady, some times I can't believe you are my daughter! The things you say!"

Michele laughed, "Oh Mom, get over it, I am so your daughter! Oh my god, I am so totally the modern you and you are the old fashioned me."

"Maybe so, but I could never speak the way you do (except with her boy when she was as dirty as hell!)

"I know, dear Mother, that's why I'm the one bringing it up. And since you are not gushing about it, pun intended, I assume you haven't."