The Perfect Beginning Ch. 27

This is the 27th 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.

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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.

****

Though he kept his thoughts and feelings secret, Donna sensed a shift in her son. His attendance and servitude that evening was like nothing she'd enjoyed before. She did not question it, instead she chose to just enjoy growing closer with her boy.

He's a growing boy and growing boys need a mother's care.

She smiled contentedly.

Just like her daughter, Donna loved being teased up. And she liked it to last and last and last. There was almost a meditative quality to it all as she dove deep into the sensation of building pleasure. And it was their pleasure as love was meant to be shared between a loving mother and her son, and it built for both of them in equal measure.

There were distinctions, of course. Since she held all the power...as it should be... she never felt a need, or more accurately, needy. She was being served pleasure at a slow, leisure pace. Certainly if it did not eventually culminate in orgasm, it would be maddening, but orgasm always came for she was in control of her situation, her boy, her play toy; Donna controlled her son.

This thought, the thought about maddening denial made her smile as she considered Tim's state of near constant denial

As he should be! Poor, poor boy. Such a mean, controlling mommy!

Such thoughts inspired greater delight as she took in the soft rubbing, gentle tickling and whispered kisses to her pantied crotch. She sipped her wine and floated with it all. His soft whimpers and quiet moans of desire for her delighted her all the more and reenforced her understanding of their shared love. She especially loved the sight, sound and sensation of him breathing deeply from her fragrant panties. It was so profoundly perverse and erotic taking in how desperate her sexual essence made him.

This was her naughty-place, as she liked to think of it as. For her, there was something so exciting about having a boy attend to her while she wore her white cotton panties. Wearing them made her feel little-girl pure.

Nothing could make her feel naughtier than having a boy touching her, tickling her and kissing her on her white cotton crotch. Nothing made her feel more like a hot, horny, naughty little girl except if he were trying, with desperate restraint to breath in and smell her fragrant bush through those very same pure-girl panties.

On the outside, she was his mother. Yet internally, she was a little girl again.

Her only distraction was the intruding regret that she'd not fastened the chastity device on her loving boy and while she wanted to pop up and do just that, it all felt too good to part with.

Next time.

After at least an hour, a blessed hour of her son trace teasing her crotch and bottom with his lips and fingertips, she was struck by the Good Lord's insight. She positioned her son on his back and mounted his face.

Donna had never done such a thing as it was fundamentally lewd and perverse. It was something a lady would never do! Yet God gave her permission. It went beyond that, she thought, it was God's suggestion. She knew she was divinely inspired.

The inner conflict between right and wrong was its own thrill, which by itself could have captivated Donna's attention.

This is wrong; but God wills it! Does She? What would Mother say? God would not have put this thought in my head if She did not will it to be.

Or maybe you are just a naughty woman?

No, She wants this for me. Thank you, Lord.

It was difficult to deny the rightness of her life since her daughter had helped her navigate a new life path for herself. Sister Ann's insights and encouragements only served to settle her conscious and reassure her need for righteous action.

The troubling conflict of thought and emotion was one thrill. The physical sensation was another. Adding to all of it was the fact that what she was doing, she was doing to her son. And as she thought about all of it, she felt all of it. She bathed in the blessed light of the Lord as She allowed Donna to experience it all at once. One thing did not distract from the other and she swirled delightfully with the entirety of the sensation.

So intoxicated by thought and sensation was Donna that she retreated once more to her naughty-place. Once more, she was a girl and she was experiencing all of it as an innocent and pure girl. She was a girl again and experiencing an intimate touch for the very first time in her life. At once, she got to be good and naughty and the excitement she felt from being both at once electrified her whole body.

God lets me be both! Thank you, God!

Feels...sooooooo...ohhhhh my Goddess, so good!

Her son's mouth was on her pussy while his nose was pushed deep into her ass and pressed hard into her anus.

Again, a shadow of regret that she'd not removed her panties.

Instantly she dismissed the thought as wearing plain white, cotton panties reminded her of her virginal purity. As a girl, she always wore plain white undies to church and because she wore panties just like them every Sunday when she attended church as a girl, she believed they made her more pure and that God liked it. Realizing they were still on then made her hornier.

I'm a pretty girl for God! Thank you, God, thank you!

She did what was at once wrong and what God willed when she settled all her weight on her son's face. She just relaxed and let the entirety of her crotch mold to her son's beautiful face. After an hour of nothing but teasing, she was now more than just scratching the itch. His face fit so perfectly to her crotch, it seemed almost form fitted and made clear to her at once why God willed this. It was clear in her mind that this is what she was meant to do and his role was primary to his reason for living.

It's what he was made for, this and spanking! Oh, God, thank you!

He was so deep in her crotch, positioned they way he was, he could not see her.

With this knowledge, she went with the impulse to touch her own nipples. Her Continuant upbringing made the taboo of self touch all the more naughty and exciting.

Her higher self was actually more embarrassed that she actually cared if he saw her do this.

Her nipples had always been so sensitive and the slightest touch made them rock hard. She spied herself in the mirror riding her son's face while cradling her perfect, little tits.

She was uncomfortable with notions of sexual vanity.

But goodness, my hard, little breasts are sexy. Yes they are. Men and women look at them all the time. It's cause they're so pretty.

What she saw in the mirror was breath taking and supremely sexual.

I'm a pretty girl. Look at me. Oh my!

Certainly Donna had always been very attractive. Yet her strict Continuant up bringing and her early experience with sex never allowed her to appreciate what others saw when looking at her.

It was in this moment, when she was admiring herself in the mirror while cupping her hard, upturned, little breasts and riding her son's face that she began to view herself differently. With her lips pursed, with her approaching orgasm, it was like she saw herself for the very first time.

Donna would take this vision with her out into the world and with it, a new, elevated sense of confidence. For the first time, she allowed herself a sense of physical and sexual superiority to others...and it felt good!

The entire sensation was fantastic but their was something beyond special about having the tip of Tim's nose pressing into her tight, pretty, little bung. It fueled her sense of being naughty and pretty at the same time and pushed her closer to climax. She wanted to feel his nose deep in her ass.

Oooooo, get in! Deep!

It seemed Donna had left her childhood so long ago and so completely, the whole experiencing was a shocking joyous reminder of what she'd left behind but what was still available to her. She was alive as a hot, sexy, spoiled little girl again.

Thank you, God!

As damp as her cotton, under-panties were, they were all the more air tight over his face.

He could not breath and this turned her on and annoyed her at once.

Donna liked having this kind of intimate control over her son's life and she felt as though she deserved it. He was fighting for his life but still he struggled as he'd been trained to: he fought gently so as to make it more enjoyable to her.

His moaning and gentle writhing stimulated her emotionally and physically. Donna began to do up-downs on his face which was really more of a forward-backward shifting of her weight done to stimulate her entire crotch. Too, she loved occasionally clenching her butt cheeks and anus on his nose.

Her annoyance stemmed from having to periodically lift up to allow her son to catch a breath or two before dropping back down on him to drive herself to orgasm. With her annoyance, she received God's inspiration, she was sure, when she raised her hand above her head and while leaning down, brought it down in a wide arch, slapping the length of Tim's cock. The thin cotton of his panties was little protection and as she looked down and took in the sight of his masculinity mastered by a pair of delicate panties, she drove closer to her climax.

It did not take long and that might be what saved Tim's life. After several very hard strikes to his hard cock, she was overcome. And she came hard. She convulsed and gushed for almost two minutes. After gushing, her orgasm continued for another two minutes.

Tim was literally drowning in Donna's orgasm. His growing struggles only drove her to greater heights.

As the blessed sensations receded, she did gentle gyrations on his face. She was in no hurry to return to adulthood. Again she looked to the mirror to see herself in profile. She was almost out of breath as she discovered she was gently pinching her own nipples as the waves of orgasmic pleasure washed through her.

Oh, I am a pretty girl!

Donna absolutely loved her life and she counted her blessings each and every day. Every day she thanked God in her prayers for all She'd given Donna. She loved everything about her life. Everything. Yet being a girl again felt therapeutic and emotionally healing.

Eyes closed, mouth open, she breathed deeply and enjoyed lingering vibrations of her orgasms that she ground out on his face with her slow gyrations. In this transitional space, she slowly came back to adulthood. She knew that God had put her lovely daughter, Krista and Sister Ann in her life to help her find this place again. Through these special people, God spoke to Donna and led her back to childhood. God used these people to give Donna yet another blessed gift.

She knew her way back now. She now knew her inner child. This was their shared playground and she knew where to come when she felt inspired to play again as a girl. Her eyes opened as did her smile.

Upon dismounting her son's face, she was struck by a spike of terror as she took in Tim's unresponsive form and thought she might have killed him. Immediately she was relieved to know he'd only passed out.

She made a mental note to take greater care in the future as while she was more than comfortable using her sex to smother him into unconscious, she would protect Tim as any mother would her own son.

She had to admit there was a certain thrill in the notion, however, in killing her son with her sex. There was something powerfully feminine and deeply erotic about the thought. They'd replay this one many times and this very thought would propel her to many, many more orgasms. It was not really a homicidal desire, yet she relished power and the power of life or death was the ultimate power.

Smugly she thought:

And I might now have one to share with my daughter.

While she'd want to share something of this value with Michele, she knew speaking of such things might be a challenge too far. Still, she was learning a certain thrill in sharing thoughts one was not even supposed to have.

But God willed it! Of course I can!

****

While Becky was home, Michele and Devon spent ten days in Bora-Bora. Though her life was very well managed, it moved at an incredible pace and her work load, her thought-load, mind always running at what seemed like maximum capacity, was getting to her. She did not realize it until they left it all behind. The long flight alone was a heavenly escape.

Michele was grateful that she had such a strong sex drive because while at home, sex was her one refuge. She loved that she could escape it all with Becky's gorgeous face between her legs.

The couple spent their time sunning, snorkeling, biking and luxuriating in tropical paradise. Of course they had lots of sex; they were young and each had needs. On their last evening, they were enjoying their dinner in the open air restaurant when Devon went to his knees. Michele was confused as it was known to her solely as an act of intimate submission which held profound significance to her. It made no sense at all. She was actually put off by it.

Devon's not submissive!

And she did not want him to be submissive.

Devon thought the look of confusion on her face to be adorable. He presented the open ring box "Michele, I've never met anyone like you and I'm sure I never will. You amaze me. Will you take my hand? Will you marry me?"

Her jaw nearly came unhinged. It likely was the first time in her adult life that she might not have looked totally dignified. The diamond was huge!

"Yes! Oh my god, yes!"

After dinner, the two went back to their bungalow and made love in their particular way.

As he slept away, Michele savored the taste of his cum and enjoyed the after glow of her own orgasm. She knew she was in matrimonial bliss as it was aptly referred to. Yet just before sleep came, she had a troubling thought.

What about Tim?

Michele had a well disciplined mind and shut that uncomfortable thought aside and closed her mind to the world.

They returned home and got back to their lives.

****

It was a beautiful, late summer afternoon and the weather was perfect for a party.

The expansive, accordion, glass doors were open and the tide of well dressed women casually flowed in and out, between Michele's house and her four acre yard and garden. All The Ladies were present and a few other of Michele's childhood friends like Tanya and Missy. Tim was elated that Michele was home and though large parties were not an everyday affair, life was always better with Michele in it and was always better with Her home.

Krista was upset.

That's the girl! That's the fucking girl?

She was upset with Michele and just as upset with herself. She was being absolutely irrational. She knew Michele had intentionally kept her from Krista and she resented it. She knew it was not fair.

As soon as she saw the vision of utterly, lady-like, down right dainty, submissive beauty, she was so affected, she almost had to sit down. She was shaken with instant jealousy.

To call her a beauty was insufficient. She was so much more exquisite than beautiful. Beautiful suddenly struck Krista as a cheap and completely over used word to describe what might have previously been attractive but was now still way too attached to the ordinary.

She was so long and lean, but athletic... and the way she's dressed! She was in a short, baby blue, little girl dress with heeled sandals and laced ankle socks. Krista could not imagine a more exceptional vision of human perfection coupled with the projection of sexual submission.

On several occasions, Michele had dismissively referred to her as "...just some girl..." who she slept with and who took care of her domestic needs.

Bitch!

Krista recognized the girl as a former student at the under-school she interned at. They'd never met and Krista saw to it that they didn't. She found it difficult to look at the girl as she was certain that her desire would fall out, embarrassingly before her as though she'd wet herself.

Making her way about campus, she'd always scan the crowd to find her. On a few occasions, while on campus, she thought the girl was checking her out. She dismissed such thoughts as they were inappropriate and on several levels and in spite of her shame, she couldn't let herself hope for such a thing.