I write these stories to entertain you. I enjoy writing stories that appeal to me and hope they will appeal to others. They are works of fiction. Someone commented previously about, I'll paraphrase, made up psychological lingo. As chance would have it, I am not a psychologist and as I writer of fiction, I make stuff up. Got me!
Full on...Busted.
For this series of stories I made up, or thought I made up the term "hypersexual." As clever as I thought I was, (and you already know I don't research this stuff,) it happens to be a term already in use. I did not look it up but it would not be hard to infer the meaning.
In this story, a hypersexual is one with a genetic mutation that makes them biologically different than most of the population. It is not merely about sex addition or nymphomania (if that term is even still used.)
While I make stuff up, I do try keep adherence to the rules of the universe. Things have to make sense within the world they are taking place within. Plausibility matters to me.
*
This story takes place in the Perfect Beginning Universe. It makes brief mention of Michele's work.
For me, first time is always the most exciting. Compounding the excitement is the anxiety when at least one character realizes that they are not the person they thought they were.
I strive to keep us in the minds of the characters such that have a more comprehensive voyeuristic experience.
If you like it, give it stars.
If you don't,.. Have a wonderful day with what's left of it. Peace.
This story takes place in a very male dominant society, one which is even more patriarchal than our own. Pete comes to realize that as he falls under Allison'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 story.
*
The following is an outline of how this society operates. The Perfect Beginning provides a slightly more comprehensive description of the universe.
* 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.
* Some 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.
**************************************************************************************
There was fear and pain. They'd reached the point in the spanking where it became unbearable. It needed to stop now. Right now. No more. Not one more spank. One more would be intolerable. One more and he'd lose his mind.
"Please, please, please, no more!"
This was Allison's favorite part of the spanking for she knew where poor Little-Peter was with it all.
Yesssssss, feel that for me. Little boy's bottom is getting hot. Give you a hot bottom!
"How dare you raise your voice at me, young man!"
But I didn't...
To voice it would make it so much worse.
She always made his head spin this way. While taller than most women, she looked and sounded like a young girl. She wore a captivating beauty of a well vexed thirteen year old babysitter who relished to opportunity to set straight a boy in her charge. Yet he was so much older than her.
Just the sight of her inspired gratitude, despair and profound arousal.
*
Peter was in love with Ms. Allison. There was more to it than love, however. She was the perfect girl and he could not look away. Madly in love with her he was, but it was complicated.
It was said that love made people do crazy things, but he wondered if this was what they meant. He discarded wonderment. He knew this was not what they meant. Nobody meant this. Nobody was meant for this. With this crazy love was madness. He still could not understand how he'd gotten to this point in his life.
He was thirty years older than her, he was considered by many, at 156 years of age, a young man.
Young man: in this was the most bitter irony. He was referred to often by this moniker but only when in dutch. Young man, of course, meant boy.
Thirty something years older than her, yet she was his babysitter. Above all else, she was his babysitter.
Never to be a man? She'd assured him his place was fixed. She was committed to making this so. She was committed to keeping him a good boy.
What was it that made him a boy incapable of manhood?
Only a girl. So young. Seen by the world as a prim, proper underschool girl. She was a stunningly pretty picture of flowering girlhood. She'd be too young to be taken seriously by strangers. She'd be glanced at, admired and dismissed. Certainly her height threw people off. She looked like a remarkably tall 13 year old with a little girl voice to match. She wore clothes that were almost inappropriately young. Long neck, perfect posture. She was fresh faced and bright eyed and knew how to sparkle.
She had an ass that broke necks.
Most of the time, she pretended not to see men leering. Yet she took great pleasure in her overall appearance. She knew she was a compelling vision of split images. And her little-girl colors kept most men at bay.
To most, there was the future possibility of something special. For now, she was just a little girl.
Yet she was his babysitter. Above all else. It was unnecessary for them to play their role or even play up their roles as each was clear on where one stood. Additionally, there were times their relationship leaned in different directions. The understanding of this relationship was always present, just not always apparent. She made clear to him who he was to her, how she viewed him. He accepted his place as a boy beneath her.
And it was madness. Pete "the man" was not dead. A part of him still longed for the privileges of manhood. He felt like the house cat that stood at the window, watching enviously of all the cats strutting freely about doing as they wished, occasionally, at least, fucking all the hot girl cats.
He was kept.
He wanted freedom, but he could not imagine not wanting her.
Worse than being viewed and treated as a boy would be living without her, or her mother. Viewing it objectively, she was Allison's mother. He reminded himself this was true.
Yet he called her Mother and sometimes Mommy. Though Mother could be frightening, she sometimes brought him comfort and love. He was in love with her too.
Their care of him was constant. Their care provided him a sense of purpose. Their care informed him and helped shape a new point of view.
Though it seemed a sparse diet, they both nurtured him with comfort. However, comfort was something he had to work for. It did not feel constant and seemed never quite enough, they did share with him warmth. He received this if he were a good boy.
When with either or both, being a good boy was the only thing that mattered to him. He no longer questioned it. He worked hard to be a good boy. Being a good boy was the only thing that mattered to him because it made them pleased with him. He liked being a good boy.
His need for these women was the single most compelling obsession in his life.
And he still could not understand it.
It was when he was not with them that he sometimes questioned it all. When he looked out the window and saw all the other cats in the neighborhood doing as they pleased, that he wondered what the fuck had happened to his life.
It used to be so much better to be a guy.
*
Peter got spanked quite a lot. The Spencer women made clear they were devoted adherents of corrective discipline as its results were so beneficial to everybody involved. A well disciplined home was a happy home. They used corrective discipline liberally and for various reasons. He discovered he had too, a very complicated relationship with all the spanking.
He knew it was for his own good. Spanking was just one of the ways the Spencer women showed him care. They used spanking to guide him and to help insure that he was always a good boy. This was undoubtedly a good thing.
He got spanked for naughtiness, something he was guilty of quite often. Or so they assured him. Sometimes he thought they were a little unfair about this as he felt sure he'd done nothing wrong. He worked not to share this perspective as it promised him a longer spanking.
Naughtiness was a catch phrase.
He was spanked for disobedience.
He was spanked for bad attitude.
He was spanked for willfulness.
He was spanked for not being "thoughtful."
He was spanked for not being self disciplined.
He was never disrespectful as he never lost sight of his respect for Allison and Mother, but he did sometimes get spanked for it.
It's not fair!
And then he'd remind himself that this was how they cared for him. They were going out of their way to make sure he was a good boy which was something he knew he wanted to be. No, it was fair. They were just strict, is all.
Spankings hurt and he hated them yet he knew they were for his own good. They'd told him that so many times that he knew it must be true. What really confused him was how compelling he found them as disciplinarians. They were very pretty women, but they became somehow more attractive to him when they spanked him. No matter how frightened he was of them or the spanking they were about to administer, his cock was always rock hard for them. His cock always saluted their prettiness and their authority. He could not escape it and they teased him a great deal about this "little," unmissable detail almost every time they spanked him. No matter the reason, he hoped there was a mirror about so he could watch them as they corrected his behavior. It never failed as each and every time he was stunned by how attractive they were when they spanked him. If anything, his cock got harder as the spanking went on.
He knew their spanking him was an expression of care.
It's for my own good.
