Gwendolyn
Copyright© 2026 by yfnsp
Chapter 12: A Lesson in B&D
BDSM Story: Chapter 12: A Lesson in B&D - 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
Author’s Note: This episode involves Martha and Jane, a married couple who live downstairs from Gwendolyn and from whom she rents her attic apartment. Since their kinky relationship is highly relevant, you may want to reread their backstory, which is presented in Chapter 8.
Janie’s thong had been damp the whole time. It wasn’t lost on me, kneeling beside her as we ate from pet bowls on the floor. I remembered that Marti forbade her from wearing clothes at home, much like Gwendolyn’s rule for me.
Except panties. They were a practical necessity. “I leak,” she had explained. “My pussy is always wet when I’m with my mistress. She doesn’t want me to ruin her furniture.”
We two pets could only listen as we chewed our scraps and took turns drinking from Janie’s piss bowl, the dinner conversation being the province of our mistresses, the two women who sat at table like fully agentic human beings.
My ears pricked up when Marti mentioned strap-ons. I had been surreptitiously admiring Janie’s mature breasts. I loved the way they hung soft and full when she put her face into the bowl. And now, when she heard that word, I could see her saturated gusset overflow, leaking her slickness onto her inner thighs.
My thoughts turned to licking her there until Marti announced, “Ever since I spanked your boy there, I’ve been hankering to plunder that pretty ass of his.”
I had learned to enjoy being dominated by Gwendolyn. And Marti had already spanked me once. But I had never considered submitting to anal penetration. I heard Marti say that lots of men enjoy it, presenting this fact as first-hand knowledge. That didn’t assuage my fear much, but Gwendolyn wanted to see me fucked, so I had no choice.
Having no choice is, paradoxically, quite liberating. There’s no point in worrying about what you know you’re going to have to do no matter what. You learn to develop your subspace, the place in your mind where you retreat, where everything degrading arouses you and only makes you more compliant.
Dinner ended and I hardly noticed that I was consigned to help Janie clear the table and do the washing up. Marti left the room taking Gwendolyn with her, presumably to show her the playroom.
I followed Janie into the kitchen carrying the serving vessels from the table and put them on the counter. Janie began loading the dishwasher while I watched, rapt by her fluid grace and the beauty of her sensual frame.
She looked over her shoulder at me and whispered, “Don’t worry, it only hurts a little at first. And then it gets amazing. She’s very good, you know. An expert with the strap-on. I wish it was me getting it.”
“Does she fuck you in the ass?” I wanted to know. That had to be different from taking it in her pussy.
“My mistress fucks all my holes, my pussy, my mouth, and my ass,” she said proudly, with a look of excitement that assuaged my fears substantially.
“Do you actually like it there? In your ass, I mean.” We were speaking barely above a whisper. We could hear the voices of our mistresses, unintelligible, from down the hall. I didn’t know if we were allowed to talk or not, but Janie seemed to be taking precautions.
“That’s what I’m talking about. I wish it was me.”
I looked at her ass. It was pale and unblemished, each rounded cheek forming a half of an upside-down heart that peaked in the dip of her spine at her narrow waist. It was softer and fuller than Gwendolyn’s but just as breathtaking.
“Do you think it’s pretty?” She said, bending forward to adjust the dishes on the lower rack that were just fine the way they were. Her stance was classic, almost pornographic, presenting herself perfectly for rear entry. Her pussy peeked at me through the gap in her thighs beneath the parted globes of her ass. Its folds were clearly discernable in the thin, sodden fabric of her thong, which disappeared into her shadowed cleft that led upward and inward, promising other delights to be explored.
I was so surprised! Not by the beauty so much as by the implied invitation, so wantonly presented. Her pose was so primal, so fitting with the pet status we had assumed. I wanted to mount her and breed her like a dog with a bitch.
But first I wanted to smell her, to open her up and taste her hidden treasures. I wondered if she tasted like Gwendolyn, whose puckered anus I had been worshiping daily.
“Can I taste you?” I whispered hoarsely.
“Yes, hurry! I don’t want to get caught!” she answered quickly.
I was on my knees behind her instantly. She pulled her thong out from between her cheeks and spread them apart with both hands. But the scent of her juices below pulled me off course. Her gusset was overflowing again, giving her inner thighs a new coat of slick on top of layers that had already dried in concentrated flavor.
My tongue went there first. I lapped hungrily at the top of both thighs up to the edge of her gusset, the salt and tang making my mouth water as my nose pressed into her sodden gusset and filled my senses with her heady musk.
“No, you silly boy!” she admonished in sotto voce remonstrance. “Not there! Put your tongue in my asshole!” Apparently this submissive milf was capable of summoning some authority, at least where I was concerned.
Obediently, but not without a little selfish opportunism, I dragged my broad tongue up the entire length of her gusset on the way to her rectal cleft, denuded and spread welcomely. I washed the juices from her pussy and my watering mouth into her earthy crack and up over the circular bump of her shithole.
My nose had preceded my mouth, exciting me with her anal aroma and preparing me to delve eagerly into her puckered hole. But just as I began to drill, we were interrupted.
“Stop that!” It was Marti’s voice.
“Come here, Mike!” came Gwendolyn’s command.
I scurried on my knees to my mistress’s feet. She had a collar and leash in her hands, which she bent to buckle on my neck.
“You see what a slut she is?” Marti said to Gwendolyn. “Just as I said. This is why she has to be under strict supervision all the time.”
Gwendolyn squatted beside me and, holding the leash in one hand and my chin in the other, she brought her face close to mine.
“What were you thinking? Your face smells like pussy! And not mine! Did you think that was appropriate behavior?” Her beautiful eyes searched mine. “Do I have to punish you?”
Marti had clipped a leash to Janie’s collar and tugged it to turn her around and down on all fours. She swung the end of the leash, striking Janie’s broad pale ass with a stinging smack.
“To the playroom!” she commanded sternly. “Now!”
Janie crawled surprisingly fast and Gwendolyn led me by the leash to follow them down the hall to a room at the back corner of the house. The size of a moderately large bedroom, it was sparsely and oddly furnished. Except for the cupboard in a corner, there was nothing at all bedroomy.
Marti was securing Janie in a pillory, bent at the waist. Gwendolyn and I watched as she closed the hinged board over Janie’s neck and wrists and then cuffed her ankles to a spreader bar. I was fascinated. Janie was flushed, clearly excited - I could see it in her eyes until Marti slipped a blindfold on her - but completely compliant. Then she put a pair of acoustic earmuffs on her head. I thought they were headphones.
“There,” said Marti. “Now she can’t hear us or see us. She’s going to get a serious paddling, but she’s going to have to wait for it, and she won’t know how long.”
She gave one of Janie’s hanging tits a sharp smack, leaving a red handprint on her milky skin.
“Ohhh,” Janie moaned. I saw a bead of dew roll down her thigh.
“We shouldn’t have to listen to noise from the slut, should we?” Marti said, bringing a ball gag from the cupboard and securing it in place. She also had a couple of clothes pins, which she clipped to Janie’s long nipples.
That only made Janie wetter. She seemed to quiver as her gusset dripped.
Gwendolyn was watching as intently as I. “She really likes getting punished!” she observed.
Marti laughed. “This isn’t punishment,” she said. “I’m just giving my baby exactly what she wants. I knew she was going to ‘misbehave’ and she knew I would catch her.”
“So this is all just a game?” asked Gwendolyn.
“What you see here, yes, it’s all fun and games. For me too. We both get off on it. I won’t tell you how wet I get when I slap her tits like that. I can’t wait to redden that pretty ass of hers!
“No, if I really had to punish her, if she had really displeased me, she’d be locked in her cage in the basement in the dark with only a water bottle attached to the bars. Sometimes with her hands cuffed. For hours. Up to ten or twelve hours or more. I usually leave her there until she soils her cage. And then I leave her to wallow in it because she’s so prissy and hates to be dirty. It’s very hard on both of us, but the make up sex is awesome.”
“Wow,” Gwendolyn exhaled softly. “You really do love each other, don’t you?”
That surprised me a little, because my first thought had been how intense the feeling of helpless submission must be for Janie, but Gwendolyn’s reaction came as a revelation.
“So, my boy has been naughty too,” Gwendolyn said eagerly. “How would you punish him if he were yours?”
“Oh, I have some very devious cruelties in mind. If you’ll allow me, I’d like to borrow him for the evening and show you. Would that be okay?”
“Yes, I’d like that!” Gwendolyn enthused. And then she added earnestly, “As long as you stop whatever you’re doing if I don’t like it.”
“Yes, of course.”
“Because, he’s mine!”
I saw a look of admiration on Marti’s face as she nodded approvingly. “May I take his leash?”
She walked me over to a large wooden frame in the shape of an “X” and fastened my wrists and ankles to the cuffs at the four extremities of the frame so that my legs were splayed and my arms spread wide. I felt extremely vulnerable. My cock was semi erect and horizontal.
After checking that I was fully secured, she went to the cupboard to get some things.
“Now,” she said, “we’re going to correct your very bad behavior, little boy.”
Her tone and demeanor made my cock rise higher.
She held up a plastic clip. She was also wielding a riding crop.
“You’ve been sticking your nose into places it doesn’t belong, haven’t you?” She paused expectantly.
“Yes, ma’am,” I answered.
She struck my cock with the riding crop.
“Ow!” I cried out in surprise.
“Silence!” she shouted. The crop hit my cheek. “You will only speak to answer me. You will address me as ‘Miss.’”
“Yes, Miss,” I replied meekly, while inside, I trembled excitedly.
“Answer me. Where have you been sticking your nose?”
“In Janie’s ass, Miss.” It sounded absolutely ridiculous, but it made me dizzy with lust. I wanted to fall at Marti’s feet and bury my face in her pussy.
“Why would you do a nasty thing like that? Are you a nasty little slut?”
“Yes, Miss.”
“Say it.”
“I’m a nasty little slut, Miss.”
“This is to remind you to keep your nose where it belongs.”
She put the clip on my nose. I had to breathe through my mouth.
“And your tongue? Where has it been?”
“In Janie’s ass, Miss.”
“Are you an asslicker, little boy?”
“Yes, Miss.”
“And what right do you have to lick Janie’s ass? Does she belong to you?”
“No, Miss.”
She picked up a wooden clamp. “Stick out your tongue, boy.”
She attached the clamp to my tongue, making it impossible to close my mouth or to bring my tongue back inside.
“There. That will keep you from putting it where it doesn’t belong.”
She put down the crop and slipped out of her dress and shoes. I ogled the bulging flesh spilling from her sheer bra and the dark shadowy mass in her matching panties that failed to contain all of her wild curls.
Then, she blindfolded me.