Gwendolyn
Copyright© 2026 by yfnsp
Chapter 10: Gwendolyn Has a Plan
BDSM Story: Chapter 10: Gwendolyn Has a Plan - 18-year old Gwendolyn was never going to have a boyfriend. She went to college planning to fuck a lot of different boys, not believing that her fantasy, a sexy boy who would worship and obey her, was possible. But on the very first day of class, she meets a boy who had worshipped her from afar. Could this be the man of her dreams? Gwendolyn is determined to test him and find out.
Caution: This BDSM Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Coercion Consensual Romantic Lesbian Heterosexual Fiction Cuckold BDSM DomSub FemaleDom Humiliation Spanking Analingus Cream Pie First Masturbation Oral Sex Pegging Petting Water Sports
Gwendolyn swung her legs out of bed and stretched. I watched her fluid movements in the morning sunlight filtered through the curtains of her childhood bedroom. Her arms up over her head revealed her alluring armpits. She arched her back, thrusting her nipples against the thin material of her sleeveless tee.
Instantly awake and aroused, I straightened my legs and stretched out on the floor beside her bed where I had slept.
“None the worse for wear, I see,” she said, noting my erection.
I looked down. “No, everything still works.” I smiled at her. The pain of her kick in the balls had faded quickly. I was glad that she had accepted its boost to her confidence.
“That’s good!” She grinned, “‘Cause I might want to do it again. How did you know I would like it so much?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. You were fading - your power was wavering or something. You’ve always been so sure of yourself.” My heartbeat was accelerating just looking at her, nearly naked, her hair all bed-tangled.
I got up and sat cross-legged. “It was worth it,” I said, looking up at her.
Her smile flashed from playful to imperious. “You are a good and faithful servant. You may worship me now.”
She reached a hand out to me. I stood and she guided my face into her armpit, warm and sticky and rewarding. And so we began our morning rituals, culminating in a naked dash across the hall to the bathroom where I drank her strong morning piss and we showered together.
We made plans as we dressed. I wore yesterday’s jeans with a clean shirt, she put on a skirt. We didn’t need to leave until mid-afternoon. I wanted to drive over to my parents’ house to pick up my sleeping bag. Gwendolyn thought that was a good idea. “I’m going to want you to sleep over more often,” she said.
She decided not to come with me. “I want to meet your parents, but not today. If you go right after breakfast, I’ll use that time to talk to Mom. I’m going to tell her about us. When you get back, I’m going to go out to see someone and I want you to stay with her.”
She had been planning something, it was evident, but she wouldn’t tell me what. I knew she was worried about leaving her mom alone.
We found Teresa in the kitchen, sipping coffee and waiting for us. She hadn’t dressed, but she was modestly garbed in a large blue bathrobe over pale green pajamas.
“There you are!” she said cheerfully. “Want some breakfast? I was just about to scramble some eggs.”
“Morning, Mom,” Gwendolyn said giving her a kiss on the cheek. “Yes, eggs would be great!”
I watched them interact. Gwendolyn helped her mom instinctively, taking tings out of drawers or cupboards, handing her things or taking things from her, cleaning up, putting things away, all while speaking of other things entirely. It looked like telepathy.
I saw how alike they were, how beautiful. Teresa was a glimpse into Gwendolyn’s future, how exquisitely attractive she would remain after thirty-odd years. I surprised myself, feeling the sense of permanence that implied. I wanted to belong to Gwendolyn forever.
My parents were surprised to see me. I explained somewhat briefly about Gwendolyn and her cat and my volunteering to provide transport. I said I needed my sleeping bag for a weekend camping trip I was planning. So, I lied. I wanted to tell them the truth, to tell them everything, but this was neither the time nor the place.
I was gone about forty minutes. Gwendolyn and Teresa were still at the kitchen table with coffee when I returned. Everything else had been cleaned up and put away. And Teresa had changed into black leggings and an oversized pale yellow tee shirt. She was still barefoot.
“ ... and she’s a lot older, at least twenty-five years,” Gwendolyn was saying.
“Okay,” Teresa responded, “but they’re hardly a normal couple by any stretch of imagination.”
“Hi, Mike. Get undressed,” Gwendolyn said before resuming the conversation with her mom.
“All I’m saying is don’t rule it out. There are lots of younger men out there. Age is no reason - not by itself - to throw away a chance for happiness. Seriously!” she said seriously.
Teresa sighed. “I’ll try to keep an open mind.”
Gwendolyn smiled. “That’s all I’m asking.”
She got up and hugged her mother, one of those awkward standing to seated person hugs. I had been taking off my clothes and was down to my underpants. I shot Gwendolyn an inquiring glance as I hooked my thumbs in the waistband. My cock had been rising. It was now fully erect.
She nodded affirmatively at me and said, “I told Mom that you are a very obedient boy and that you will do everything she tells you.”
“Yes, Gwendolyn.” My boner bounced free as I pulled down my briefs and cast them aside.
“I should be back in an hour or two,” she announced. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” she added with a wink, going out the door to the garage to take her mother’s car.
I stood there for a moment, feeling awkward, while Teresa looked me over calmly, silently. I was grateful that she seemed unperturbed. Maybe she didn’t want anything from me.
“Do you mind if I sit down?” I asked, adding, “I’d like to sit on the floor, please.”
“Of course. Sure,” she said, amused.
I sat, or rather knelt, sitting on my feet.
“May I kneel at your feet?” I wanted to be closer to her.
“Okay.” Now her amusement was more evident. She was probably waiting to see what I would do. It appeared she had no interest in ordering me around.
She was interested in our relationship, though. Understandably.
“Gwendolyn says you ‘worship’ her. What does that mean exactly?”
“It means a lot of things,” I began. I had thought about this. “I had a serious crush on her in high school, ‘worship from afar.’ It means that and, you know, longing, sexual attraction. And also obedience - it’s not worship if you don’t obey. And then the best part is the physical attention, body worship, you could call it. She lets me kiss her body. All over. I act like very part is ... sacred, to be kissed and licked, tasted and savored...”
I was getting carried away. My cock was throbbing. Teresa could easily discern my pulse rate.
“Every part?” she repeated, wondering.
“Yes,” I asserted, “her vagina, her bottom, her breasts, her armpits. I love them all.”
She took it all in, her brows knitted. “Is that what you were doing this morning? I couldn’t help wondering. You weren’t exactly quiet.”
“Yes, all of that.”
“Well, we’re not doing any of that!” she said emphatically, but with a note of playfulness. “Assuming you’d want to with an old lady.”
“It isn’t about what I want...” I wanted to be clear. “But all things being equal, I can’t imagine passing up an opportunity like that. With you.”
She blushed.
“Oh, and I also drank her pee,” I said, wanting to give her a more complete picture of my willing subservience.
That made her blink. She shifted in her chair. The movement of her foot caught my eye.
“And I kiss her feet, of course,” I added, staring at her toes. They were quite alluring, with well shaped nails coated in clear varnish.
“Do you want to kiss my feet?” she wondered aloud, seeing my interest.
“Oh, yes, please, Ma’am. May I?”
She laughed, a giggle that got away from her. “Seriously? ... All right.”
It seemed she’d had a sudden change of mind, or perhaps a thought of “What harm could there be?’
I didn’t have to feign the reverent humility with which I bowed my head to kiss her toes. My lips landed softly in the midst of them and she responded by extending her foot, providing me easier access. I felt blessed.
I kissed all her toes and the top of her arch before repeating the ritual on her other foot. Her feet smelled clean, her scent similar to Gwendolyn’s.
“That’s nice,” Teresa sighed. “You really like it, don’t you?” she said, noting my dripping precum.
I responded by picking up the first foot and applying my tongue, licking her from each space between toes, up, over her arch to her ankle. Four long, wet caresses, and then I sucked her toes, each one, reveling in the sensuous submissiveness that sucking effects.
She moaned softly when I reached for her second foot. She shifted to allow me to lift it to my lips. Her thighs parted slightly and I became aware that I was not alone in my arousal. The aroma was unmistakable; the sweet perfume of feminine receptivity.
She allowed me to finish sucking all of her toes before she gently removed her foot from my grasp.
“That’s good, Mike,” she sighed. “You’re really very sweet.”
She bent forward and patted me on the head, resting her fingers in my hair.
“It was a surprise, you know, Gwen having a boyfriend. She always said she didn’t want one. I didn’t know if she even liked boys, that she might be a lesbian. Not that there were any signs of that.
“Gwen tried to explain it to me. But it’s ... you’re not at all what I expected,” she said. “She said you had a female-led relationship ... Well, that was intriguing, but, well, it got weird with the worship and obedience stuff.
“She said she won’t let you fuck her, but she’s free to fuck anyone she wants. Is that true?”
“Yes,” I said simply.
“But why? Why would you agree to that?”
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