An adult stories – The Perfect Beginning Ch. 12 by KimberlyGirl,KimberlyGirl This is the 12th 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.
***
Dear Diary,
There is no denying it: I am my mother’s girl. Mom really gets it and it seems I get it because of her…strangely. It’s strange because she did not teach me any of this. Is that true? OK, she did not teach me any of this directly or like, on purpose, yet so much of who I am is because of her.
Had she been in my situation, instead of the completely backwards situ she came from, she’d have likely done as I have.
It’s because of my mom that Krista and I are writing a third book. She and every woman like her, deserves this.
OK, here is another thing. I’ve been reading a LOT about “deviant” sex and one thing that is very common is bondage. Not really into it and don’t even know why. I suppose it just seems like work and little about it seems exciting. Yet there is something about the symbolism that I really do get.
So today I had this really wonderful realization that Tim and I do practice bondage.
Way more powerful than what I could do to his body with a piece of rope, I’ve put Tim into deep, deep emotional…mental…psychological bondage. Win! He’s in spiritual bondage. Like really, I’ve harnessed his thoughts and feelings. mmmmmmm Just want to bind him tighter and tighter and tighter! I know I’ve considered this before, but it seems so much more …I don’t know…more complete now. smiles.
****
Michele always knew when Tim was going to ask to see Becky. Any time he was challenged or they transitioned as a couple, he sought Becky’s council and comfort. She thought a little comfort was only fair since it usually came when she was having the most fun. Besides, Becky was her good girl and could be counted on.
*
Becky could tell he was shaken up over the phone, so when he met her in the Lounge she steadied herself. With serious concern, “What’s happened? Is everything alright?”
He told her the whole story, including the embarrassing truth that he’d been “taking care of” himself throughout the entire relationship.
He was a bit thrown off by her reaction to this embarrassing detail. “I don’t understand, why were you cheating on her? Seriously Tim, what more could you want in life? Isn’t she good enough for you?”
“I…no, she’s good enough. I mean, she’s amazing…perfect, but I don’t know… I just need to, you know…”
“Cum? No. You’re wrong. Gosh, just when I think you’ve figured it out…”
Tim did not expect his bestie to be so disappointed with him yet neither did he imagine that Michele had already gotten to and prepped Becky for this conversation.
“You still don’t get it. Okay, like, men need that. Men. Men have powerful needs. And they get to because they are Men. They get to fire away any old time they want. BANG-BANG! It’s actually beautiful. Oh my, getting horny. And they deserve that. They’re Men. They’ve earned it. Men enjoy privilege. They deserve it and good for them! Thank god for men! Thank god!
“Men are like a whole different species than you. You’re just a boy, sweet one. Do as you are told and be grateful. I’m kinda surprised you did not know you needed to ask. Boys need to ask. They need Mommy to say it’s okay. You don’t get to make choices on your own. You know, it’s a permission thing. And I know you know exactly what I’m talking about.”
Sitting just close enough to take it all in was Madison White who pretended to read a book. She could not help but to shake her head in the negative when she found out what Tim had done. As ever, she viewed Tim’s actions in the context of the future relationship she hoped to have with him.
Oh no, you didn’t! There will be none of that! Little boy’s gonna get it!
A “permission thing,” yes, he did know about that. Seeking permission from Michele was a foundational aspect of their relationship. But where was the line? Had he no autonomy?
“But I didn’t. You really don’t think I get to make that choice on my own?” Tim was shocked by Becky’s assessment.
“Nope,” said Madison. Tim and Becky looked across the courtyard to see her shaking her head in the negative as she read her book and both assumed it was in reaction to something she’d just read.
“Of course you don’t. Gosh, Tim, I don’t know if you are being dishonest with me or with yourself.”
“Beck…”
“If I’m wrong, why didn’t you just tell Michele to suck your cock?”
What is she talking about? “Because…because it just does not work that way.”
“Duh, of course it does not work that way because you aren’t a man. You don’t even have a cock. You have a cute, little-boy dickie.” She said the last with a sweet smile and as though she were talking to an adorable puppy dog. “You could never do that.
Just the way she said it was so confusing to him. She had just said the most devastating thing she could say to any guy but said it like it made him cute, special and of value.
“Okay, so why didn’t you, you know like the last time you two were together,” she used air-quotes, “whip out your big man cock and stroke out a load right in front of her? Like maybe in her face? Oh my god, I’d so L-O-V-E that! Getting hungry.”
The thought inspired great guilt and fear. “Because I can’t…I’m not allowed,” he said quietly.
She’d never actually told him he was not “allowed” to do this but something about it ran counter to their shared, romantic values.
Sometimes he was still surprised that he still felt shame over his own weakness. He was still ashamed that he submitted to and obeyed a girl. Yet shame and submission where now part of him.
Becky’s vision terrified him and without thought, he looked around to see if Michele heard what Becky said. He knew she was not even on the same campus but he could not help himself.
He noticed Madison shaking her head in the negative and assumed something in that book of hers must have been off putting to her.
None of the girls in the Lounge were friends of Michele but it worried him. He was frightened of the secret police.
“Well that’s my point exactly: you are not allowed. Look, even if you never spoke about this before, you knew. You know Michele and you understand your relationship. You even go to couples therapy. You have some awareness. You knew and it’s why you kept it a secret.”
“It’s not fair,” he said petulantly.
“You are sure right about that,” she said with bitter irony. “It’s not fair. You get to be with her. Maybe you should feel a bit more gratitude?
“And like, in the way you mean it, when was fair ever part of it? If you really wanted fair, why are you not going steady with Brenda Hawkins? She’s cute and you two could be together and making all your choices together. Trying not to fall asleep. I think I could yawn so big, I could curl up inside of it and take a nap. Are we done with this equal stuff?”
“Sorry.”
Madison rolled her eyes in consternation.
Becky took a deep breath to steady herself. “Anyway, that’s over now but, oh…my…god! You are telling me you have to wait two weeks to cum?”
Becky was mortified. Becky came so often in the course of a day that Tim’s dilemma was unthinkable!
And she was not sure of what to think about how she masturbated all the time when she went down on Michele and sometimes Michele got her off with Becky’s dildo. She wondered why there was such a double standard.
And then it occurred to her that Michele knew she could not do to Becky what she did with Tim. She knew that Michele and Tim got off on humiliation. This was doable in part because of Tim’s conventional notions of appropriate sexual conduct and how he was “supposed” to behave as a sexual man. Shame was built into it all.
Becky had no such notions, therefore, it was not a sexual trigger and control point like it was with her best friend.
Poor, lucky boy is right in her trap.
There was another perspective on this too. Becky LOVED to make her guy cum. It was the best. She loved when he came inside her but she also loved swallowing a man’s cum.
Mmmmmm yummy.
But she did like making him hard. There was tremendous satisfaction in knowing she could make him want her. Keeping him hard might actually be a lot of fun. The more she thought about it, the more she liked the idea.
Like if he wanted me so badly, it hurt him. What if he wanted me so badly it made him cry? Oh, yeah.
It was not hurting him in this way that aroused her, it was the idea of that she could get a guy that into her.
That’s hot!
If she thought Michele would approve, she’d go out that very day and pick a boy to do this to.
She won’t. Oh, well.
And then she saw it from the other side.
She does this to him because he is more important than I am.
She sublimated her anger and heartache.
Once every two weeks!
At once she was soooooooo grateful Michele did not do this to her, yet there was continued whisper of envy in the back of her mind. She was not sure she could remain sane if she were kept from orgasming as often as she did, but a part of her, Tim’s twinsie, was envious.
Like Tim, Becky liked being controlled by her special somebody, it was both erotic and comforting.
Secondly, it demonstrated commitment. This was a significant relationship bond that her best friend and Michele had that she did not have. She knew Michele would not make this choice for Tim if he was not important enough to her.
Since she found a little bit of hurt at the bottom of this story, she did not mind sweetly rubbing it in her friends face a little. “Oh my god, I am so grateful!”
“How so, Beck?”
“I just love to orgasm! I do it like all day long.”
“Really?”
“Totally. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve cum with you sitting right next to me as we just talk about something sexual.”
Tim was blown away. He could not count the number of times he’d been hard during their conversations, but to think Becky was so sensitive that she could cum without even touching herself was mind blowing.
How does she do that?
As he felt Missy get hard inside her panties, he became so pointedly envious of her freedom. He loved Michele, but this was too much!
“How am I going to do this Becky!” came his plaintive cry.
“I’ll tell you how: You are going to put on your panties one leg at a time, like every other girl. Then you are going to put on your big boy pants and do as you are told, that’s how.
“Don’t get me wrong, I’d hate if I could not cum less than like…many times a day, but you seem to be missing the big picture here. First of all, she would not do this if she did not care about you. You know that don’t you?”
“I guess,” he said in a pouting sort of way.
“I’m not going to even talk about you leaving her because we both know you can’t. But you don’t want to. So here is the big question: How do you feel about Michele right now today? Do you love her any less? Do you love her any more?”
And this was the most obvious question. Tim was so consumed by his penis and his orgasms and his loss that he was not thinking about his Love. And when he did, the answer was just as obvious as the question. He was not focused on his gain. He was so head over heels in love with Michele, any effusive declaration would be inadequate and silly sounding.
“I love you so much, Becky. I’m sorry, I know sometimes I come to you sounding like such a crybaby. You are the best friend ever.”
“Well, you are welcome, but there is an entirely different way of looking at all this as well. Men are free, they have power. Sometimes that power makes girls like me, weak. God…hornier!
“You are so lucky you have Michele because she’s different. You need different because you are different. You are so obviously little. Almost any woman could tell. And we always test men just to see. You are just like me, sweetie. You are a gentle boy. And you get just as horny as me when you think about that strong woman, don’t you?”
His cock was throbbing. “Yes.”
“Of course you do. Just close your eyes and think about her totally bossing you around. It makes you want to cum in your Kitties. You are a boy and she spanks you. Do you know what that makes her?”
“What?” he asked gently.
“That makes Michele your Mommy. Think about that.”
Madison was fit to be tied!
Of course he already had but the shiver ran up and down his spine anyway. Her Mommy title had occurred to him naturally and he’d been calling her that for some time.
Becky just gets it. All of it.
“Do you know what little boys and little girls need from Mommy?”
“What?” he asked breathlessly. He felt he was slipping down the rabbit hole.
“They need Mommy’s permission. Like for everything. It’s one of the ways she shows her affection. Her permission, even when she says ‘no,’ is love. Her control is an expression of love.”
“I know.”
“Good,” she said cheerfully. Smiling while feeling the sting of envy, “So how are you holding up? Is it harrrrrd?”
Returning the smile, “It is hard; in every sense of the word.
“You poor baby. Does it like, hurt?”
“Yes! It’s beginning to really ache!”
“Your poor little penis! Oh my god, your poor little-boy balls! They must be just like filling up!”
“I think they are,” he said with concern. “I think that’s why they ache so badly. I think they are swelling.”
“Oh my god, I want to see!
“You better not cheat. She’ll know if you do.”
“No, I won’t. But can she? Really?”
“Totally. You will act totally differently. You won’t notice it, but she is so in tune with you, she’ll see it right away.
“If you ever feel like you are having a crisis…a harrrrrd moment,” she said with a playful smile, “call me. Seriously, I want to support you.
“They do that in AA you know? If somebody feels like they are going to drink, they call their “sponsor” to support and help them. I want to be your moral support. God, I’m such an orgasm-addict, I’d totally need help.”
*
Despair and envy washed over Madison White. Madison perfect. She had a porcelain complexion, a delicate nose, high cheek bones and thick, shoulder length, chestnut hair, worn back to lightly frame her perfect face.
Skirts, knee socks and sweaters, preppy stylings worn in the most tasteful way showcased a proudly conservative disposition.
Her family was wealthy and she was at the top of her class. Supremely confident, she believed in herself and luxuriated in all her privilege. She deserved a boy like Kimberly. Yet while listening to the conversation she became convinced he’d never fall to her. She stomped her foot and pouted.
*
And so he did call Becky when he was close to “slipping.” And though she was there for her friend, she got in a little teasing every time.
****
Dear Diary,
I was just sitting here feeling so grateful and thought I’d journal it. Tim and I have been together for years now. Even though we love each other dearly and we are totally comfortable with each other, we still get to share exciting new experiences with one another. Our intimacy is sooooooo perfect and I love it so much. Controlling his orgasms is a powerful, beautiful and exciting new thing that is bringing us closer together…
****
With Michele’s new expectations, she began inspecting Tim.
Previously she did not think twice about his cock. She always loved seeing it valiantly fighting and straining against those mean little girl panties. That always made her smile as it was somehow both sexy and funny to her.
Mr. Big-Cock wrestled down and beaten by the Little-Girl Panties. Too Funny!
She loved how those bossy, little Hello Kitty panties always bullied Tim’s poor pantycock into submission. To Michele, that was pure girl-power! It was a beautiful and perfect sight to behold.
Every single time she admired it she thought the same thing: I did that to him. It was joyous.
She also always liked when it poked her leg when she spanked her boy, that always turned her on, but that was about it. Now she wanted to exert and monitor greater control.
Before long, they both noticed that Tims balls were actually swelling.
Oh my!
His balls got bigger and heavier and ached terribly and Michele thought that was absolutely delightful. Making him hurt this way was just more good, lighthearted, wholesome, all-Porschian, girl-fun!
When he told her that they really ached, they really hurt, she always smiled with true happiness.
Maybe I should put him in tighter panties?
She could cause him sexual suffering by doing what she loved most: administering control over her boy.
Of course he was not allowed to speak of his discomfort unless she asked, least he get on her nerves. She could not be bothered with whining. Yet she found she enjoyed asking him about it as another form of foreplay. She enjoyed his description of his torment especially before he went down on her.
“Try to like, describe it a little for me.”
“Well it’s really super achy and, and it throbs like really badly in my balls…”
“Tim…” she admonished and used a tone that prompted correction.
Striking a more formal tone, “I’m sorry Ms., I meant in my little-boy-balls. They’re filling up and they are so heavy with…boy mil…milk. Sometimes I don’t think I can take it anymore.”
“But you will take more,” she said warmly. “More and more and more,” she all but cooed. “Won’t you, baby boy?”
“Yes, Miss Michele, yes Mommy. I will take more and more…for you.”
“Oh my gosh, they must be so full now! Why, you haven’t cum in over a week!”
“They are. And they really do hurt a lot. It’s like it radiates through my whole crotch and up into my stomach.”
In the most mocking, sweet voice she could affect, “Goodness gracious, why you almost look like you might cry.”
Often this was just enough torment to trigger her boy’s tears.
“Why don’t you cum, Timmy? Why don’t you just man-up and shoot a big, hot load? Men get to do that all the time.”
“Because my Mother won’t let me.”
Oh yessssss!
That one really got her. Not allowing masturbation felt like overbearing and wonderfully perverted, Mommy control. And that suited Michele quite nicely.
“Oh you poor boy,” she said with big eyes, giving him her full attention. She had a very pleased closed mouth smile on her face and Tim knew she was not just pleased, but turned on.
“I really can be such a demanding and controlling Mother. I can be such a mean Mommy,” said in the most sweet and regrettable way.
“No, Mother, I love you so much. More than ever.”
In a warm, caring and inviting voice, “More than ever? Really? Even after I’ve been maybe just a teensy bit mean?”
“I’ve never been more in love with you.”
Michele laughed. “Tell me more about how it feels,” she prodded greedily.
“The pain actually goes all they way up into my stomach. It’s not quite as acute, but it is the same feeling a man gets when he’s kicked in the balls…”
“‘A man’s… ‘balls’?” she once more indicated his mischaracterization by way of questioning. Ms. Michele believed that good teachers helped their students find their mistakes.
“I…I mean when a boy gets kicked in his little-boy-balls.”
“Gosh, you must want to cum like sooooo badly!”
“Yes, Mommy! Really, really badly!”
“And you are such a good boy for not asking.” Changing her tone to reflect imagined annoyance, “God that would anger me. Little boys get spanked hard for that.”
“I know Mother,” he said with some urgency. “I’d never ask.”
With that, she smiled and then again in her concerned little girl voice, “You’re not mad at me, are you?”
“No…goodness no! Why would I be mad?”
She was very pleased that he genuinely did not know to feel resentment…or at least while in her magnificent presence, lost all sight of his resentment.
“Because I’ve like cum twice today. You made me cum when I woke up, right after my morning pee. Then again after I lazed in bed when I called you over while you tended to your chores. It surprised me how hard that second one was.” She looked dreamy for a beat.
Tim was so fucking hard! He felt the urgent need building and building in his balls!
She’s so perfect. Oh my god I’m so lucky!
“And I’m pretty sure I’m going to use you to cum at least two more times today. Wouldn’t you like that?” she asked in her sexy little girl voice.
He imagined breathing her musk. “Yes, Ms. Michele, more than anything in the whole wide world!”
She giggled. “So I get to cum all the time. My gosh, I lose track of all the orgasms I have. It feels like my tight, pretty little body…you do like my body?” she asked innocently and while losing track of her point.
“Yes! Yes! Oh my golly, yes!”
“How about my little girl bottom? Does it look good?” She swiveled her hips to give him an eye full. She wore plain, white, cotton, little girl panties and her ass popped perfectly. His mouth began to water.
“It’s perfect. I love her,” said from some far away place.
She smiled sweetly. “My tight, little, pretty little body is like tingling from orgasms all the time. And all that time, your pretty, little boy penis and little-boy-balls just ache and throb and burn with need. It almost seems unfair.
“So you are not mad at me, are you?
“My pretty, little girl pussy is so happy and loved. I love that she’s so pampered. She gets so much attention and so many sweet kisses and she gets to cum like all the time.
“Your poor little panty-cock is so frustrated and poor, poor, swollen ballsies! Your sweet, harmless, petite dickiepoo gets manhandled and beaten up by those mean, little-girl panties all the time! Mean, mean panties. I almost, sort of feel bad for it. Almost. Are you mad at me?”
“No, no, no!” he said with emphasis. “I totally get it. It’s good for me. I know that. And…and it makes you happy so it really is the most important thing. It’s, it’s good that you don’t let me cum. Thank you.”
Later he’d hate himself for saying all this, but in the moment, he was powerless against her. He’d reason that it was simply what love did to a boy.
Maybe tonight she’ll let me worship Princess.
How the boy loved making out with her ass. That followed by sucking her off was his greatest pleasure in life.
That last bit was new and unexpected. She was so pleased with him and smiled widely. “You really are such a good boy.”
Making a show of looking at his crotch, she said with concern, “Oh my, Missy looks really…tense right now. Why I bet if I just touched her with my little finger, you’d shoot like a gallon of boy milk inside your panties.” She laughed.
He nodded while his whole being revealed a great internal struggle.
With big eyes and smile she playfully made as though she were going to touch Missy with her fingertip. “Ask me nicely not to touch you, or I will.”
And she was right, a touch would be all it would take. Tim’s orgasm was resting on the razor’s edge at that very instant. Hell, a change in cabin pressure would have been enough to cause his premature ejaculation.
“Please, Ms. Michele, please don’t touch my…I mean her. Please don’t touch her or I will, I’ll have a terrible accident.” That was a scary thought.
“And terrible accidents bring terrible punishments! Missy’s so sensitive. She’s a delicate, little girl.
“You not cumming really is the best thing.
“I have to admit, a little part of me thinks that’s kind of funny. I mean the part of it hurting in your swollen, little, boy balls. I think it’s sort of funny yet on the other hand, it is incredibly satisfying to me to know all your boycow milk is trapped inside your little, baby balls. It makes me feel really good. Does that make me bad?”
“No, Michele, not at all. It makes you good. It’s really is what I want too, because…because it makes you happy…”
She’s the sexiest creature on earth.
He just wanted to get down on his knees and kiss her pretty little crotch. In his imagination, he could smell her womanly scent and it alone held him on the edge of cuming in his panties.
“Well okay then. I’ll be a good girlfriend and not even touch your little baby-dick. But don’t say I never do anything for you,” she said playfully.
“I love you so much, Michele.”
“Of course you do.
“So like, right now, they are throbbing pretty good?”
“Yes. My whole crotch and lower stomach ache terribly.”
“Mmmmmm, that makes me so very happy. It just feels so good to me…everywhere.”
Enthusiastically, “I just want to make you happy, Ms. Michele.”
“Do you now? Really?”
“Yes, yes! I do, really!”
“Cuz there’s something I’d like to do but…I’m just not sure…” She looked dramatically troubled.
“But I do! Really!”
“There’s something I really want to do but… I’m just not sure… We’ve never done it. There is something I’d like to do but… But then when I think about it, I feel like I’m missing out.” She looked at him expectantly.
As she toyed with him in this manipulative and playful way, her anticipation and arousal built.
Tim knew on some level that he was being lured, it was just that it did not matter. Forcing his way right into Michele’s delightful dilemma, “But what? What is it?”
“I’m just scared you won’t want me to is all,” said like a hurt and rejected, little girl.
Nothing was more terrible than being the source of Michele’s disappointment or being linked in anyway with failing her.
“Please, please, could you just tell me?”
With a hint of her cute baby-girl voice, “Okay, but I’m really scared you are going to think I’m a bad girlfriend, or that I’m just bad. And I just want to be a good girlfriend all the time. That’s all I’ve ever wanted to be.”
“I so, totally know! And you are the best girlfriend in the world. I so, totally mean that. It’s okay, really. Just tell me what it is. You could never be bad.”
“Okay, I’ll tell you, but please don’t hate me.” Her tone suggested that he might already hate her and she was preparing for hurt feelings.
It was a ridiculous plea and made it clear as day that he was really being set up for something big…but he did not care. He only wanted to make her happy.
“I could never, ever feel anything but love for you, Ms. Michele. You are my whole world.”
She smiled.
Oh, I’m going to make you regret that. Mmmmmmmmm.
“I’d really like to…” she paused to bite her lower lip and really sell the sense of confliction, “I’d really like to slap your balls right now.
“But only because you’ve told me how much they ache with frustrated need. I only want to because of how swollen they’ve gotten. With you talking about it like that, it almost feels like you are teasing me into it, or something. With you talking about it like that, I almost feel like you are taunting me because you’d just know how much I’d just love to do that.”
Taken aback, “Oh.” He walked into it. He knew something was coming but just the way she set it all up, made him want to rush right into it. And here it was. He did not want to do this. Just considering it, it already hurt. “Ummmm, well…I guess…I guess…”
“No. Never mind,” projecting her hurt feelings. Casting a bit of blame, “Even though you were totally tempting me.”
“No, wait…but why? Like, why not, if you want to so much?”
“Don’t you dare try to make this about my desperation or something weird like that,” she offered in a way that suggested he was close to making her cross with him. “You were the one who was tempting me. Gosh, I almost feel like a victim in this.”
Back to her dejected, little girl voice, “I just think it would be funny. And it would probably be a lot of fun, is all. Oh well…”
“I’m sorry, Ms. Michele. I apologize. Let me ask again: If you think it would be fun, why wouldn’t you? I mean, I want to have fun too. I want to have fun with you. Isn’t that what Ms. Krista said we should have more of?”
“Well, I think it’s pretty obvious that you don’t want me to. And honestly, that kinda hurt my feelings. Like, I feel like I do a lot for you but you don’t really want to do this little thing that would make me so happy.” She subtly pouted and projected hurt petulance.
Instantly reaching for her pleasure, “But, no, no, you totally can.”
“Never mind.”
“Come on, Ms. Michele, we should try it.”
“No. You don’t even want to. If you did, you’d ask me real nicely to do it…because you wanted to also. Like it would be an us thing. Like we’d be doing something fun and meaningful as a couple.” She looked so hurt and rejected.
He did not even think about the consequences of what he was asking for, for to do so might reveal hesitance or insincerity. “Please, Ms. Michele, can we please try it? Pretty please? Just once? Please? Just once, would you please slap my…” And then he had to feel it. And he was terrified.
And Michele’s smile blossomed.
“…slap my…my little-boy balls? Pretty, pretty please? With sugar on top?”
With sugar on top. Mmmmm, so very sweet. I think I might just let you do this for me since you want it so badly.
“Oh my god, you are so sweet. You are such a good little boy! Okay, one slap. This is going to be so much fun! One time.
“Here, lay down on your back.” When he did, she straddled him high on his torso. “Just one. Just one to start. And then we can keep going if it’s fun.” His eyes went big as he realized what he so eagerly got himself into. She expertly tucked her ankles into the side of his head and face to keep him in place before she sat her pantied crotch down over his face.
He was enveloped and nothing but Michele and her pleasure existed.
Where I belong. Even though he always struggled to breath when she did this, it was his happy place.
My purpose.
He was giddy with joy and happiness while at once calmed by knowing in his bones that this really was where he belonged.
This was his spiritual life support.
Mmm, mmm, mmm, so for reals where my good, little boy belongs.
She wiggled, gently down onto his face to get him in there just right. She took a deep, relaxing breath and settled down with all her weight on his face.
Perfect fit. Every time.
She closed her eyes for a moment and relaxed into it with some slow, deep breaths.
She’d grown and matured enough to have a sense of delight, of having a perverted thrill when they had sex while she wore her plain, white cotton, little girl panties. It made it all the more exciting when she embraced her little girl spirit for all this.
Nothing on earth was more pervy than having her desperate boy kiss her crotch through her little girl under-panties. And she always loved the feeling of his nose pushing into her anus.
Opening her eyes and enjoying the view in the mirror, she enjoyed an additional pause to just take it all in. She loved sitting on Tim’s face and every single time she did it, she had the same blissful regret: I really need to do this more often.
There was an undeniable perfection in the way her whole crotch form fitted over his face. She simply enjoyed settling herself in so she might enjoy the sensation as well as the view from above.
Little, girl Princess on her throne. God, I look good!
He was so blissfully happy and calm as he set aside all other thought and concern. He forgot why he was there to begin with. And then she reminded him.
The slap was a shock that startled him from his bliss, but it was not registered in his balls for about two beats. There was the slap …and then the register and radiation of pain up into his stomach.
From fun, relaxed, bad-girl pleasure to absolute excitement as she experienced two thrills for the price of one. Slapping Tim was it’s own joy that she indulged in somewhat regularly. It aways grounded her emotionally, helped her find her calm when she was dis-regulated. And of course it aroused her every single time.
Slapping his balls took the joy to a whole new level and this was the thrill she correctly anticipated. It made her so happy. The unanticipated thrill, the one she new instantly she’d need more and more of came when he screamed deep into her crotch! Her eyes went as big as her smile of shock and joyous enthusiasm.
He was so deeply in there, face so sealed off that audibly it registered as a prolonged, muffled groan. She knew that had she not been sitting on his face with all her weight, it would have rivaled the scream of a six year old girl in pitch and volume. It was the most wonderful vibration into her entire crotch.
She did not get to fully enjoy it as both of his knees shot up at her in a feeble attempt to protect himself. She knew she was lucky to have caught his knees with her hands since otherwise, he’d have involuntarily kneed her quite hard.
She allowed him a few seconds to collect himself before gently pushing his knees back down on the bed into a butterfly position, completely splaying his crotch. She slapped the inside of each thigh and the direction was implicit: stay!
It was clear to Tim that this was not going to be a one and done and he was terrified!
What they were doing and his position with it all was beyond unnerving. He worked hard to maintain his position for Michele but found himself twitching in anticipation of another slap. Certain she was about to strike again, he began to curl up again before catching himself and working to keep himself properly exposed to Michele so that she might continue to slap his balls at her leisure.
She looked down and marveled. He was shaking in fear and twitching in anticipation of the next blow. Yet he was still hard.
She smiled. She was such a happy girl. She felt so pretty. She always felt her prettiest with Tim’s face in her ass. Every single time it was the same and today was no different; right then and there, she was the prettiest girl in the world and it always infused her with a sense of supremely haughty pleasure and self satisfaction.
She knew she was truly in her happy place when she felt like an excited little girl.
I’m the little girl who owns a grown man!
This was profoundly good and she joyed in the realization that they could still discover fun new things together.
She began to scoot back and forth on his face, affecting a gentle friction that she found most enjoyable. Glancing once more in the mirror, she realized she looked like she might have a few years earlier while riding the coin-op mechanical horsey they used to have in front of the grocery store.
Ride’m cowgirl! Yay!
She was so excited that she knew it would not take long even though she did not want it to end.
She slapped him again on the balls. This time he managed to control his protective reflex but to her ultimate pleasure, screamed even harder into her crotch.
Her eyes went wide and her little girl joy and wonder spread over her entire face. She savored it for a moment, edging herself. She slowed and then stopped her rocking.
Once she was off the edge, she began her little girl-horsey ride once more and slapped his crotch again. It was not just the scream, she realized, but also he was convulsing. It was perfect.
Who needs to buy a vibrator! Mine came built in!
This was an orgasm she wanted to draw out.
Poor, little horsey!
She smiled with unadulterated greedy joy. She worked herself back up to the edge with the gentle friction and held it there. She wanted to change up the pacing so he could not anticipate when it was coming. Terrifying him this way excited her all the more. She slapped again…
*
When she came, it was hard. She knew she should be desensitized and satisfied, but she knew she could find her peak again soon if she wanted. She decided to give her pretty, little girl pussy a moments rest,
My little-girl pussy has had so much excitement lately.
She wore a very satisfied smile.
As she dismounted, she saw he was profoundly traumatized. His face was red with tears, sweat and her girl cum. He looked utterly discombobulated.
“Do you think you’d like to make out with Princess?”
“Y…yes, please,” he got out in a hitching whisper.
“Why, you look a little upset. I think someone needs Princess’s love and affection. I think you need Princess to calm you down a little. Kissing her will make you feel so much better. Sometimes I think she’s your pacifier.”
Many times, he’d thought the same thing.
Michele laughed as she rolled over on her tummy. It wasn’t even 11:00 am and she knew after he made out with her asshole, she’d enjoy her fourth orgasm of the day. She just loved that being a bitch to Tim turned them both on so much. She had so much to give.
****
Simply put, the psychological and the specific nature of his physical, sexual suffering aroused her beyond measure. She could not help it, she just thought it was so hot that while she came and came and came, he couldn’t…and it hurt him…in his little pantycock. And she found that she was absolutely mad about squeezing his always aching balls.
Dear Diary,
…Oh—My—God! Ohmygod, discovered the best possible thing today! Can a girl’s life get better? Smacking and squeezing Tim’s balls is like the funnest and funniest thing ever! What is so weird about it is that can be so completely comical and then on the other hand, it can totally turn me on…like when I’m done laughing… And let me say, it’s a SERIOUS turn on. Total pussy-burn!
She did not really spank, slap and squeeze his balls all that hard, so she told him.
“Oh stop being such a sissy-babykins, I’m barely squeezing hard at all. Do you want to know what a hard squeeze feels like?”
To Michele, it was just a sort of firm and relentless kneading…and maybe the occasional hard squeeze…but she was pretty sure she was not really injuring him.
If honest, she could admit that she enjoyed holding that squeeze as she pulled them down, just a little pressure to help them ache all the more.
She also liked to imagine that kneading them also stimulated the production of more boymilk, making her little boycow’s balls ache all the more.
It almost looked like a massage, yet she learned that was the one part of the body no boy wanted squeezed, especially when he’d been kept hard and his balls full for a week or more!
Eventually she came to understand that Tim needed nearly no time at all after an orgasm before reaching his “need point” once more. She liked to watch him squirm as she gently and sometimes…
…okay, okay maybe often…maybe kind of a lot…but he still doesn’t need to be a baby about it…
…rhythmically squeezed his balls rather firmly.
Okay, okay, I like to do it hard. So what!
The hard squeeze was her secret happiness.
Squeezing hard feels good and squeezing harder feels better!
It made her smile more than anything while she told him what a babykins he was.
Sometimes she’d give him a sudden and hard, squeeze and release, and at other times, she’d squeeze and hold it. As he squealed and writhed, trying desperately to hold in his scream, she’d laugh delightedly.
She also liked to bounce his balls. It was no big deal really, (she assured him), she just sort of spanked them from underneath. She could tell it hurt, but not terribly.
Okay, yes, sometimes he doubles over, but really, how bad can it be if he stays hard the whole time!
It was all just play fun. Besides, she was sure she was hitting them with just the right amount of force.
It was funny Michele thought, she knew she’d grown up quickly, yet at certain times, she still felt like a little girl getting to play dolls.
And it was intimate and brought them closer to one another. The love they shared when she stopped squeezing and spanking his balls was wonderful. He was so relieved and wanted to express his love so much that he’d just drop down to his knees and hug her thighs. Just as often he’d kiss her feet. She thought that was extra cute.
Interestingly, this kind of play distanced them from Kimberly. It was pretty simple really: she was playing with a boy. And it felt good to be with her boy.
She also appreciated that Tim learned to like this new form of pain. For quite a while, when she roughed up his balls, he was terrified and desperate for it to end. Yet Michele was a thoughtful and educated young woman and knew she’d simply train his mind and body to respond the way she preferred.
If he lost his erection, she’d break from her ball play and get him hard again before starting over. With the careful, thoughtfully planed out conditioning, he came to welcome this new form of intimate torture such that he was always rock hard for it.
It still hurt and frightened him, but his arousal could not be helped. He was such a “silly headed and confused boy” because in spite of the fact that his constant erection proved he liked the attention she gave him, he was still always so relieved when she stopped. His pain was her pleasure…and his.
Previously, Michele took the physicality of their relationship up to a certain point, especially as it related to Tim’s body. There was always spanking of course but not too much past that.
As she pushed things forward, she realized that in certain ways, she still felt the sexual reservations of a young girl. She loved kissing and she enjoyed feeling Tim over his cloths and over his panties, but there it ended. She loved looking at Tim’s body, but when it came to culminating their sex and reaffirming their bond, well, she just preferred it when Tim pleasured her.
Krista referred to it encouragingly as “Michele centered sex.”
Tim went down on Michele and Tim massaged Michele and that was the way Michele preferred it and she couldn’t think of a single reason to reciprocate.
She made it perfectly clear that they were not having intercourse until marriage and she sure as hell was not putting his “little, tiny baby-dicky” in her mouth…ever!
Yet keeping Tim from orgasm, exerting greater control, infused Michele with a bit more interest in Tim’s body. She looked forward to getting to know it better and discovering if there was a way to use Tim’s body to her better advantage.
Hearing about Tim’s sexual pain as she spanked or squeezed his balls, seeing it in his face as he described it, always made Michele want Tim to lick her, to get her off. It also made her want to work his balls even more. She thrilled at the notion of his balls filling painfully with boymilk. It was soooooo fun squeezing big man balls filled with boymilk.
And he likes it!…and it hates it!…and he needs it!…and he’s terrified of it!
She smiled to herself.
All because of little ol’ me!