The Perfect Beginning

"I don't...I can't..."

"Just imagine it.  Close your eyes and see her.  Keep kneeling.  That's right, on your knees, where you belong.  Yes, right in front of me.  Good."  Tim kept his eyes closed but felt Michele take his hand.  It felt so nice and so reassuring.  "She's young and pretty and so smart and super sexy.  It's not Tiff.  This girl gets you, really gets you.  Don't you see her?  Answer me."

Still with eyes closed, "Yes."

"Deep down, don't you know this is who you are?"  Michele's warm tone seemed to have a hypnotic quality.

"Yes."  

"It's obvious this is who you are, Timmy.  You need, really, really need a strong girl to love you.

"Isn't she amazing?"

"Yes."

"Look at her face."  Tim almost opened his eyes.  In his mind's eye, he saw Michele looking down her nose at him with a solemn and exquisitely imperious expression.  

"Do you see how strong she is?"

"Yes." And he could. Michele was a force far beyond his comprehension.

"She does not need you, Timmothy.  She's above you.  And I don't mean just because you are on your knees. Like, just as a person. You are beneath her, far beneath her." 

And Tim was dispirited as he knew that feeling down to his bones. 

"But you do need her." 

Through closed eyes, Tim could hear the knowing pleasure in Michele's voice. 

"You do need her don't you, Timmy?"  She rubbed his hand in reassurance.  "It's alright, you can admit it.  I'm the only one who will know.  And I already know who you really are."

Even though Michele already knew, it was so shameful!  He felt paralyzed.  

Realizing the significance of the hesitation, she dropped his hand as she asked, "Really?"  There was more than a hint of irritated, incredulity.  "Don't you think this amazing girl deserves at least this much from you?"

He knew She did deserve it.  Looking up from his knees he imagined Her.  Michele stood above him, arms akimbo.  She looked like a super hero.  Michele had forced him to get real with himself.  He could never have Michele, but he wanted her so badly it hurt.  And she really was:

...soooooo amazing.

And Tim knew then he was in the killing jar.  This was the question that exposed it all.  He actually felt his whole body go limp in defeat.  Michele would not allow him to hide from it. Yet it was too much!  This was a terrible, terrible thing to admit to himself.  Had beautiful Michele not pressed him, he'd never even consider such a thought...such a terrifying and profoundly painful truth.  Now it was out on the center stage of his thoughts.  How could he speak it out loud? 

At least I only have to speak of it and not actually do it, he consoled himself.

Warmly, reassuringly, "It's alright, little boy, you can say it."  And in this somehow sweet and condescending tone, "I think we both already know the truth.  We know your truth."

With that there seemed no point in trying to lie, "Yes, god!" he said in irritation.  It was so challenging to be pushed like this and truth be told, he was mostly irritated with himself for being so weak.

"Watch your tone, young man.  If you take that attitude with me...maybe we should start using slap-therapy now, or maybe I should just leave you."  

Tim was shaken by the threat and quickly expressed contrition.  "I'm sorry, Ms. Michele.  I do need her and I do need you... your help."

Without further delay, Michele pressed on, "She's better than you isn't she?"  This was one she really looked forward to.

It hurt so badly.  "Yes."

"Say it!"

"She's...she...she is better than me."

Michele clapped her hands together in triumph.  "Mmmmmmm yes, she is stronger than you, smarter than you and more insightful than you.  She is better than you.  You are so, so, so very lucky she would even be with you.  Isn't that so?"

"Yes," he breathed.

"So I'll ask again: would you beg her to love you?  Keep your eyes closed and imagine it."

"Yes."

And it was right there in his face, in his whole body.  She'd taken him in hand and walked him lovingly to the cliffs edge and asked him sweetly to step off the edge for her...just to make her happy.  And he did!

"We are going back into our roles.  I'm your girlfriend again.  While remaining on your knees, beg me to love you.  I'm that girl.  Prove your devotion to me.  Put it on display and entertain me."

Tim opened his eyes and looked at Michele.  He was stunned by her natural beauty.  Looking her in the eye, "Ms. Michele, you are the most beautiful girl I've ever seen in my life.  To me, you are perfect.  I love and adore you more than anything on Earth."  Then his eyes fell away to her feet, no longer able to look at her.  In his moment of spiritual immolation, he was so beneath her, he was so low, he could not hold her stare. With quiet shame and profound urgency, "I...I... I know you are better than me."

"Yes I am," she affirmed.

"So much better. Michele, will you please, please, please love me back.  I'd do anything for you to love me.  Please love me.  I'll do anything for your love.  Anything. Please love me, please!"  And he meant every word of it.

And she knew he did.

In his begging, he slumped down toward her feet.  He did as he thought he should: he kissed the top of her, deliciously stinky and to him, perfect toes.

Between kisses, "Please!"

In a commanding tone, one which would broker no nonsense, "Look at me now.  Look up here.  Look at me and say it."

Tim was shocked as he thought she sounded like such a mean bitch all of a sudden.

Static electricity snapped and hissed all around them.  Suddenly Michele seemed angry when just moments ago, she seemed so warm and caring.

Her tone frightened him.  In all of existence, it was only Tim and Michele yet Tim did not understand the world he opened his eyes to. 

He was so desperate to hold on, but he had no choice.  She was making him! 

Tim opened his eyes to see Ms. Michele seated before and above him.  For some reason she looked almost angry or more accurately, contemptuous, yet also pleased, radiant and gorgeous.  In Tim's entire life, nobody had ever looked more stunningly dignified and beautiful than Michele did in that very moment. 

It was very hard for him to look her in the eye as he saw all her judgment of him reflected back in her utterly haughty disdain.  

"Yes, I'd beg for your love," he said desperately.  "I'd beg her to love me," he said in total defeat.  He was the captive and shamefully love struck slave dragged before the gorgeous Princess.  He was undeniably in love with his oppressor and longed for continued bondage. 

"I'm begging you because you deserves my begging and, and, and because you are better than me.  I'm beneath you.  You're on top and I'm on the bottom.  And I have to find a way to keep her from leaving me.  I...need to somehow keep you on top of me. I'm...I'm not really good enough for you and I know it.  I love you so much and you are better than me. 

"And I'm so scared you'll leave me.  Please don't hate me!" He did not know who he was addressing with the last comment.  It could have been his imaginary girlfriend, it could have been his therapist, it could have been Michele, the girl he babysits or it could have been himself.

He did not yet know that Michele, the therapist and imaginary girlfriend were all real and all the same person.

She was elated.  Her face spoke of contemptuous pleasure and total superiority.  God she wanted to slap him!  And she wanted to own him! 

All in good time.

With unadulterated contempt, "Leave, go home."

"But, I'm suppose to stay until..."  He was completely confused.

"Leave now," she spat the words in his face.  She turned and walked away from him.  "Get out!" she yelled angrily as she left the room.

He felt himself sliding off the edge.

He fought to hold back the tears he felt about to spill.  He was totally destroyed.  For a moment he wondered if he should first finish folding the laundry, or do some other chore around the house so as to somehow please Michele.  He walked from Michele's home not even aware that he still held Michele's panties, was in fact still rubbing them.

Michele hates me. 

He was convinced that now that she knew who he really was, she could no longer tolerate him.  He was not sure he could stand himself.

*

At home in his bed, he curled into a ball.  What would he do without Michele, he wondered as he held her panties to his cheek.  This was somehow so much worse than with Tiffany. 

His only comfort was this soft intimate cotton and the smell of detergent.  He wondered what Michele really smelled like.  After laying in his bed for a while, he realized a voice was making its way through his head.  When he listened to it, he froze.  The voice was begging Michele to take him back, to somehow allow him to be in her life.  The voice was begging Michele to love him.

*

Dearest Diary,

I think I just had the most exciting night of my life.  Does that make me bad? 

I said I was going to stop thinking that way. Stop questioning what I was doing with Tim.  Stop judging myself.  I do like Tim and he was so totally destroyed when he left tonight.  And I did that.  And I liked it SO much!  I LOVED it!  I could do it again and again and again!  So, can I do things like this to someone I like and still be a good person? 

Calm reflection.  OK, here goes: Yes I can. 

Sometimes in the moment I can feel guilty and I think that is natural, but I have to remember the bigger picture. 

First of all, I'm growing like crazy.  I'm learning so much about myself and gaining confidence and strength and it feels sooooooo good and so right! 

So how about Tim.  Even though I hurt him tonight, I still think this is best for him, so my intentions, even for him, are good.  Thinking about that some more, I believe my intentions are pure. 

First of all, I want to keep him and I like him sooooooo much better this way!  He can be such a good boy!  And he does need to learn to be with someone who really cares about him and I do.  He needs to learn  how to be with me. 

Tiff didn't care about him at all. 

And yes, I am breaking him and that's going to be hard for him.  Sometimes growth is painful.  But afterward, I'm going to be there for him.  More than that actually.  I'm going to help nurse him back to health and make him better than he was before.  I'm going to be his knight in shining armor and I'm going to sweep him off his feet!  Yay for the hero! 

I believe with all my heart that he is better off with a girl like me.  He'd never be happy with a Kimberly.  Never. 

Also, even though it hurts him, this is what he needs to be prepared to accept that he is now my boyfriend. 

I know this is hard for him.  Sometimes I try to put myself in his position.  I try to imagine I was his age and going steady with someone as young as I am right now and I shiver at the thought!  Oh my god!  And then on top of it I try to imagine being controlled by someone so much younger!  Oh my god x 17, impossible, unthinkable!  As disturbing as anything I can imagine.  It's right there with one of those naked at school dreams...maybe worse. 

I'm in a top echelon, basically a grown woman and I'm being controlled by a 120 something year old boy? No. Not possible in any world.

I am just as amazed looking at it from my point of view but like it so much more. 

Being so young and getting to control someone his age is really neat and fun...double happiness!  Every girl, every girl who's not a Kimberly, should get to do this. 

So the thing is, I know in my heart that this is best for Tim and it's really good for me! 

Tonight was amazing!  I really got to see how things can be...how I think they will be! 

I love that Tim adores me for who I really am.  I don't have to pretend to be anybody else and just be me.  I love that I can be strong and powerful and tell him what to do and not always be nice about it, flash my not so nice side and he accepts me...not just accepts me but wants me, needs me...loves me?  Yep.  Smiles.  I can see it in his face and body and everything about him.  Tim loves that I can be a Bitch to him.  He loves the real me.  There is no show here. 

His big dick is hard around me like all the time!  Love that!  Besides, he said so.  He said my personality was what he loved the most about me!  I so LOVE that I get to be this way too. 

It makes me feel special and pretty and sexy.  And it's real.  It is who I am.  So really, Tim's helped me too.  I'm going to own my very own boyfriend. 

Yay!  So tonight I play acted a scene with him and had him beg his girlfriend (Me, thank you very much) to love him...and he did it!  He admitted that he he'd beg her not to leave him and to love him.  He said she deserved his begging because she (Me) was better than him!  Unbelievable and totally cool! Oh and "I'm not really good enough for her."  Wow.  I got that out of him!  Vibrating.  Oh, and don't forget, "She's on the top and I'm on the bottom."  Goodness that makes me so hot! 

I want him to think he's not good enough for me because I want him to always feel like he really, really needs me.  Dependent!  That's the word I was tying to think of.  I want him emotionally dependent.  Why?  Cuz that gives me all the power.  Happy! 

Power makes me so much happier!  I want him to know in his heart that I'm better than him because I want him to need me.  He might have doubts about himself but I don't.  I value him quite a lot.  It's going to take a while to get to sleep tonight.  night-night

*

Oh my god!  Tonight was perfect!

Michele thought as she lay in bed. 

He is so ready to be taken.  More like: ready to be owned.

Actually, that was the catch.  She knew she could now initiate some sort of romantic intimacy.  In many ways, they already had.  Most of their interaction served to bring them closer to one another and it was undeniably and profoundly sexual and intimate. 

Of course they'd not done anything physical.  Most of what they'd shared had been romance...just a special kind of romance.  She was just not certain that he was ready to be claimed, if he was ready to surrender himself to her completely.  

It's got to be for keepsies! 

And Michele wanted ownership rights.  It was all too much fun to have even imagined, but she'd also worked hard on Tim and on herself.  She deserved all the rights and privileges of ownership. 

I totally deserve to own him!  And he's finally there!  He's ready! 

It was like fishing: she had him hooked, now she just had to reel him in.  She knew she just had to work up the nerve to turn the whole thing in a new direction.  Yet Michele was fully confident that when the moment was right, she'd have more than enough confidence to take them both where they needed to go. 

I decide!

Over the last couple of months, since he became her babysitter, on several occasions she'd almost kissed Tim.  And she knew she could have.  Yet she was not certain that afterward he'd still be hers.  She knew he wanted her.  The problem was her age and what that did to him and all the social pressure of being with someone so young and someone who was supposed to be affected by blockers. 

She thought it interesting that although she'd lacked the confidence to kiss him, she had no problem rejecting him. 

What was that about absence making the heart grow fonder?  Or was that abstinence making the cock grow harder? 

Michele smiled with the knowledge that rejection was what she needed to keep Tim.  They'd been talking about irony at school and Michele decided she thought it was pretty cool. 

Maybe Rejection Therapy is good for Tim?  It can be used with Slap Therapy and Spanking Therapy. 

She smiled as her body responded with profound arousal at the consideration.

Life was funny.

Tonight was soooooooo much fun! 

One thing that Michele had always appreciated and never lost sight of, was how natural all this was to her.  Being this way truly came naturally to her. 

On previous occasions while with Tim, she'd been the sweetly condescending Bitch.  And now Michele absolutely loved the word Bitch. 

Of course she was nuanced enough to understand it held more than one meaning, some of which she'd never relate to.  Yet above all others, it just meant she was a strong, self assured, confident and commanding woman.  That's who she was and Michele was proud of it. 

Michele smiled in bed.  And maybe she'd been a little bit of the Loving Bitch.  Not too much as Tim had not earned that yet.  He'd get more of that once he was hers.  She'd been mostly the sweet, giggling, condescending, mean Bitch. 

At any rate, she was as surprised as Tim when a new facet of who she was, who she'd always been but did not know it, came out suddenly: the Angry Bitch. 

Michele would not want to feel that all the time, but it did feel really good.  Like she felt so often with Tim, it felt sexy good and empowering.  She had no idea she'd respond they way she did.  She knew she was as surprised by it as Tim was, even if their respective responses to it were completely different.  

Sometimes Michele was mercurial, so be it.  She was so young, she had only an inkling of how liberating it could be to not feel the burden of having to contain her unpredictability and sometimes explosive nature.

On the face of it, it seemed dangerous to turn him out like that.  Yet she knew in her heart it was the best possible thing she could have done. 

Kimberlys are needy and always wait obediently by the phone. 

She was just preparing Tim, helping him to be his most vulnerable.  Though she felt a little badly for him, she did not feel guilty as she knew she'd be there to pick up all the pieces...all the pieces of his shattered ego.

And for the first time, she wondered what her mother would think about all of this.  She'd not allowed herself to consider this until now because they were dangerous, anxiety provoking thoughts. 

And they still were, but Michele knew she was just about to have her first real, official boyfriend and at some point, her mother would know. 

Of course her mother would freak if she were to walk in and see Michele sauntering around before any man or boy while in her comfies, witnessed the flirting, Tim's constant erection and knew not only of Michele's romantic feelings for Tim, but her soon to be realized plans to sweep a 180 something over-boy off his feet and make him her boyfriend. 

But would not her mother be impressed by any of it? 

Like if Mom really got it, would she be proud of me?  Like if she knew how safe it all was, and really knew, would she have to be upset?  I know she likes having an antiseptic bathroom, a spotless kitchen and fresh linens every five days.  Would she be proud of me?

****

Dear Diary,

OK, now that all the questions are answered, I've been able to just feel.  I love what I'm doing.  I love how it feels.  This is good and right and even beautiful!  This is the best thing that's ever happened to me.  No.  This is the best thing I've ever done!  I did this.  I made this happen.  I like who I am.  Doers, do!

OK, so like now is the time to talk about a really important topic: Love.  Love, love, love, lovey, lovey-dovey. 

It's funny for me to think about it in the flowery, little girl way.  That's not me, that's Tim.  Kimmy's falling deep-deep!  Well how about me? 

Yes, this is about love for me too.  Every day we get closer.  Every day, I know him better.  Every day, he means more to me.  Every day there is more affection.  I'm just not the type of girl to sit around and write our names in pictures of hearts.  I'd much rather work on our relationship. 

Every thing I do with Tim is about love.  Breaking him is love.  Humiliation therapy is love.  Nurturing the qualities in him that I value is love.  Turning him into the boy I want him to be is love.  Owning him is SO about love.  I'll let him write our name in little hearts.