Saturday dawned overcast and a little gloomy on the stairway landing at Gwendolyn's door where I awoke. I had to pee.

Gwendolyn had given me permission to stay overnight for the first time.

"But you'll have to stay out on the landing," was her edict. "I've got an extra blanket you can use," she added magnanimously.

It didn't occur to me to complain. I was glad I didn't have to get dressed and drive back to sleep in my dorm room. But now I was cold - my clothes were on the other side of the door - and I had to pee. I didn't think the door was locked, but it hardly seemed appropriate to open it without permission, nor did I feel it was my place to knock. That would be awfully presumptuous, wouldn't it? I thought, as if Gwendolyn were at my beck and call.

The thought of her asleep all snug in bed while I waited at her pleasure aroused my already semi-erect cock. That helped a little, both to hold in my pee and to warm me. But after a few minutes I became anxious again. There was no telling how soon she would rouse herself. We had decided not to do our morning runs on weekends and, besides, she was probably worn out from so much cumming that night.

Thinking like that had me diamond-hard, but I needed bladder relief urgently. I did not want an accident. I was getting terribly wiggly.

Finally, I went down the stairs and carefully opened the door to the veranda. I peeked around the door in both directions, and seeing no one in sight, I ventured out into the chilly morning air, making sure the door was unlocked. I didn't want to be stuck outside naked. I sneaked to the back yard and peed onto the flower bed at the corner of the house. I made it back without being seen; at least I hadn't seen anyone. What a relief!

I could hear Gwendolyn moving about as I waited. I folded the blanket and sat down on it, idly playing with my erection as I tried to imagine Gwendolyn's movements from the sounds she was making. When she opened the door to let me in, she looked fresh and radiant in a sleeveless tee and a cute pair of denim shorts.

"C'mon, Mike, get your clothes on. We're going to eat at the dining hall and you need to shower and change first. Are you hungry? I'm famished!"

As we approached the steps to the driveway, the homeowner, a large, grey-haired woman in faded jeans and a plaid flannel shirt, stepped out onto the porch.

"Morning, Gwen," she said cheerfully. "Could I have a word before you go?"

"Sure, Marti." Gwen smiled back. Her nipples were hard points against her shirt in the morning chill.

"Mike, this is Dr. Metzler, Martha Metzler, my landlady." She turned back to Martha. "Mike is my boyfriend!" she said proudly.

"Hi," I said, reaching out to shake hands.

She nodded to me politely, but held up the steaming coffee mug in her right hand.

She addressed Gwendolyn. "That's what I want to talk about. Do you know that your 'boyfriend' was out peeing on my flowers this morning?" She raised an admonishing eyebrow like a disappointed teacher.

Gwendolyn looked astonished. "Really?" She glanced at my mortified expression and giggled.

"Was he naked?" she asked.

"Oh, yes," Marti replied, "and shamelessly displaying an erect penis. He had some trouble pointing it down to pee." It was evident hat she was enjoying this, both the telling and observing my flushed reaction.

"Mike!" Gwendolyn said sharply. "Is this true?" Her tone and my humiliation made my cock pulse and leak in my underwear.

"Yes, Gwendolyn," I replied, hanging my head in a show of contrition I didn't feel. I wanted this buxom older woman to know our secrets. "I had to pee and I didn't want to wake you up."

"Well, that's alright," she said approvingly. "But you can't just pee on other people's flowers," she added, frowning.

"But I didn't," I said. "I peed around the flowers. On the mulch."

Both women looked at me. They were trying not to laugh.

Marti turned to Gwendolyn. "I don't understand." She sounded curious and intrigued. "Why was he naked? And why couldn't he use the toilet?"

Gwendolyn sighed. "Well, he was naked because he's not allowed to wear clothes in my house. And he wanted to stay overnight, so I made him sleep on the landing."

"Well, it certainly sounds like you have an interesting relationship!" the elderly woman said brightly. "I want to hear more. Where are you headed now?"

"To Mike's dorm and then to breakfast," Gwendolyn said.

"Why don't you join us? We haven't had breakfast yet and Janie loves company. I'll just tell her to make extra. Pancakes okay?"

"Sure! Yes, thanks!" Gwendolyn answered for both of us. "We have time." I didn't need to be at work until eleven.

"Good," said Marti, ushering us to the door. "And then there's the matter of Mike's punishment."

"I suppose..." Gwendolyn said thoughtfully as we followed. "I've never punished him before."

"Janie!" Marti shouted. "We have guests, dear. They're staying for breakfast."

"Oh! Okay."

I turned toward the sound of that musical voice and caught a glimpse of a neat pair of bare legs retreating up the stairs.

Marti led us into the roomy kitchen and bade us sit at the table.

"Really? You've never punished him?" she asked with genuine surprise. "Not even a spanking?"

She took two mugs down from a cupboard, divided the remaining coffee in the carafe between them and set them before us.

"Well, no," Gwendolyn replied frankly. "We've only been together three days," she explained. "And he's such a good boy!" She smiled at me with something like pride. "He's been wonderful."

Gwendolyn's tone and her smile were not lost on Marti, who was refilling the coffeemaker.

"That's so sweet," she said, sounding a bit condescending. "I just assumed you were into the lifestyle."

Gwendolyn was quick to respond. "We have a female-led relationship. But I'm not into all that BDSM stuff." She gave me a reassuring smile.

I smiled back, but I was nonetheless intrigued by Marti's point of view.

"Ah, here she is," Marti said, turning toward the entryway. "My wife, Janie."

Janie was really pretty, in a mature womanly way, probably in her late thirties or early forties. She wore a simple floral-print housedress made elegant by the belt tied around her slim waist, accentuating her tight curves above and below. She was lightly but expertly made up with lipstick and eyeliner that emphasized her femininity. Her dark auburn hair flowed stylishly over her shoulders.

"You know Gwen, of course," Marti was saying. "This is her boyfriend, Mike."

"Hi!" Janie chirped. "How nice of you to join us. I was just going to make breakfast... We always have pancakes on Saturday. Is that okay?"

"Oh, yes, that sounds great," said Gwendolyn. "Thank you so much!"

"It was Mike in the yard this morning," Marti informed her wife.

"Why ever did he do it?" she asked, amused.

"Well, he was apparently in difficult circumstances because of Gwen's strict orders."

There was genuine mirth in Janie's voice when she said, "Oh, that's so neat! I knew there was something special about Gwen. I told you there was!"

"Yes, but I thought that it was just because she's so pretty."

Janie had started taking out implements and assembling ingredients. She addressed Gwendolyn over her shoulder. "Do you keep him naked all the time?"

I found it oddly arousing to spoken of, rather than to, as if my point of view were irrelevant. Being objectified by all these females.

"Well, yes, when he's in my home, he has to be," said Gwendolyn. And seeing the exchange of looks between the ladies, she posed a query of her own.

"Why? Do you have rules like that too?"

Marti answered, "I make the rules. Janie is a submissive and needs to be under my absolute control. And, yes she isn't allowed to wear clothes when we're home together. Except panties. She has to wear panties. When she's not in bed. Tell them why, Janie."

Janie blushed. "I leak," she said. "My pussy is always wet when I'm with my mistress. She doesn't want me to ruin her furniture."

"Are you wet now?" Gwendolyn asked. I was so proud of her. So bold. Outspoken.

"Yes, miss," Janie said, her eyes lowered. She blushed.

"My! You really are submissive."

I could tell Gwendolyn was intrigued.

"Come over here and let me see," Gwendolyn said, assuming a natural dominance over this pretty lady who was old enough to be her mother.

"Just hold on," Martha's voice of authority interrupted. "Finish cooking breakfast and serve your guests," she commanded.

To Gwendolyn, she said, "We can resume this conversation after we've eaten. We also have the subject of your boyfriend's punishment to discuss."

"Okay," Gwendolyn smiled. "Tell me your story first. I mean, you put me through an interview before renting to me. I want to know about you too."

I don't know how Gwendolyn did that. Marti was pretty intimidating. To me she was, anyway. Awesome and intimidating.

"So, how did you two meet?" Gwendolyn prodded.

And Marti acceded. While Janie worked at the stove, making four batches of pancakes and putting stacks of them in the oven to keep warm, Marti told her tale as the three of us sat at the kitchen table with our coffees. By the time Janie had everything served and joined us to eat, Gwendolyn and I had been regaled with a fascinating love story.

"Janie was an undergraduate when we first met. I was completing my PhD and was TA for a class she was in. I was in my late forties, recently divorced and not interested in girls at all, but I remember how pretty she was and how shy, and I was flattered that she had a crush on me.

"That was almost twenty years ago," she added as an aside. "I was a real MILF back then and I had to shoot down a lot of flirtatious kids. I wasn't dating anyone, but I was exploring my dominant side and joined a BDSM club.

"Then, in grad school, a couple of years later, she started flirting with me again. I was on the faculty, but not in her area, so she wasn't off limits, and I had discovered by then that I was undeniably bi. I liked dominating women just as much as men. In some ways, more. I was into control more than B&D, and I really liked making girls do tings that...

She smiled and shrugged, sidestepping a rabbit hole.

"Janie was so eager to get me to like her. And I couldn't resist toying with her. And it turned me on to push her buttons. I would make her undress for me in my office - gosh, she was pretty - and masturbate. And in public places. She used to get so frantic - humiliated and aroused. It was adorable. And I taught how to eat pussy exactly how I like it.

"I took her to the BDSM meetups to show her off. I made her my pet - naked, collared and leashed - she loved it, displaying her sexy body, something she would never have dared to do. So being my sub really freed her. She was very popular - we, as a couple, were - but things changed and I didn't want to share her with anyone. So we stopped going.

"When I bought the house, eleven years ago, I brought her with me." She smiled. "I told her I needed a house pet. And she became much more than that, doing all the housework and treating me like a queen. She asked me to make her my slave. She wanted to quit her job - she was teaching high school English - and belong to me completely.

"That's when I realized I was in love with her. When I admitted it to myself. I had been for years. So, two years ago, I married her. She vowed to obey and to serve me, to love, honor, and keep me. And she has. I've never known anyone so obedient."

Janie put the platter on the table and slid onto the chair next to me and announced, "I warmed up the maple syrup and that's Irish butter. Does anyone need anything else?"

"Everything's perfect, baby," said Marti, proudly.

It was. We buttered and syruped and began eating with gusto.

"Okay," Marti said after a bite or two. "Your turn. What's your story? Did you say three days?"

"Mmm-hmm," Gwendolyn said before swallowing a mouthful of breakfast. "I just met him on Wednesday." She grinned and let the question just hang there while she took another bite.

"I didn't know him from Adam." She paused again, this time for a gulp of coffee. I was enjoying how she was teasing them.

"But it turned out he had a crush on me in high school. He told me that. And so I got him to admit that he worshipped me from afar. I could tell from the way he was acting that it was more than just a crush." She grinned her adorable aren't-I-clever grin and took another bite.

"I always wanted to be worshipped, you see," she said. "He was pretty cute and I could see how much he wanted me to like him - stumbling all over himself to make a good impression. So I wanted to tease him. At first. But he was so serious, it turned me on. Like he was granting me this power over him, you know?"

She took another bite. I glanced at our hostesses. Janie was watching her with rapt attention. Marti nodded as if she understood completely. For me, it was fascinating to hear it from her point of view. It made things so much clearer.

Gwendolyn continued. "I liked the feeling so much! I wondered if this was a boy who would really worship me the way I dreamed of. So I tested him. I made him confess that he thought about me when he masturbated. And he was so humble about it! So I made him whip it out and show me!" She looked to make sure they were following her. "I made him masturbate for me right there, in the open, on campus."

She took another bite while her audience digested that bit of information.

"That's how it felt, really!" she went on earnestly. "Like I made him do it. Like he didn't have any choice. It was amazing. I felt so powerful! It made my pussy wet." She took in Marti's expression - I checked too - a look of recognition, almost of complicity.

"And his cock was really pretty. And he looked at me with such devotion. And he came so much! And he didn't seem ashamed, only adoring." She smiled at me. It felt like a caress.

"That's when I decided."

It was quiet after that for a minute or two. Everyone seemed to be focused on breakfast. Or maybe also chewing over the intimate information that had been shared. Two relationships, one long established and tested by time, the other brand new, and yet with so much in common.

It was Marti who broke the silence.

"Well! I'm impressed, Gwen. I have to tell you: we only interviewed you because of your references. We had no intention of renting to an undergraduate. But Janie was right; I'm glad I took her advice."

She looked at me. "It was certainly a surprise to find you have a boyfriend, though. That goes against the impression you gave us in your interview."

She seemed to be assessing me. She turned back to Gwendolyn.

"He does seem well-behaved. You say he's obedient, but we can't allow people to pee in our flower beds, can we? Let alone an unexpected guest, wandering around the property naked. I'm afraid I have to insist that he be punished."

I watched her as she spoke, feeling excitedly vulnerable. Her calm authority was powerfully attractive to me. She looked so strong, an impression that wasn't diminished in the least by her ample curves and the enormous breasts that her flannel shirt could not disguise.

"I understand," Gwendolyn said. "It's, like, even more important because he's a submissive, isn't it?"

"One hundred percent," Marti confirmed. "That's it exactly!" She nodded at Gwendolyn expectantly.

"Well," Gwendolyn said, picking up the thread. "You mentioned spanking. That's the kind of punishment that seems appropriate for an infraction like this. And I'll admit, it sounds very exciting."

She glanced at me. I'm sure she could tell I was aroused. I know she was.

"I'm very tempted, but I'm not sure I'm prepared to deliver it. You see, he's been a perfect angel so far. Except for a little bratty pouting. But even then, perfectly obedient."

I felt a wave of grateful desire.

"I know he's my responsibility, so I'm culpable too, right?"

Marti chose to treat that question as rhetorical.

"Would you mind," Gwendolyn continued, "if I asked you to step in and do it for me? I know it's a lot to ask, but I've never done it before." She managed to sound humble and respectful.

"I know both Mike and I would benefit from your experience," she concluded.

Marti sat up tall in her seat, increasing the majesty of her presence. "Yes, I can do that. I've already given it some thought. Given the circumstances that led to his misbehavior, and seeing it's a first offense, I see no reason for anything more severe than a bare-handed spanking."

My nerve endings were tingling. Would she pull down my pants and spank my naked butt? Would she bend me over her knee? I was becoming breathless with anticipation.

Marti was still addressing Gwendolyn. "But first, I need you to tell me how you're going to prevent him from doing it again."

"Yes, of course," she replied. "From now on, he's going to take a mason jar with him to pee in if he can't hold it. And then he'll have to drink it, because I won't allow him to carry a jar of piss into my home."

Marti nodded. "That would be satisfactory. Thank you."

Seeing everyone's plate was empty, Janie got up and began clearing the table. Marti, too, stood up.

"Let's go to the living room," she announced. To Janie, she said, "We'll wait for you."

This room, unlike the updated kitchen, was styled more in fitting with the age of the house. Marti directed us with her eyes, Gwendolyn to the couch along the interior wall that faced the bay window, and me to stand beside her as she took her seat on the armless upholstered chair opposite the doorway.

"Take your clothes off," Gwendolyn commanded, making it clear that she was still in charge of me. Whatever was going to happen here would be under her authority, with her assent. I acknowledged her gratefully with a terse smile as I quickly disrobed.

"I apologize for his condition," she said to Marti as I bared my pale flesh. "He hasn't bathed yet this morning. Those are yesterday's clothes."

Marti seemed unperturbed. I wondered if she could detect any traces of Gwendolyn under my stale odors.

"Is he always hard like this?" Marti asked.

Gwendolyn smiled. "Oh, yes, most of the time." I loved how pleased she looked. It helped relieve some of my apprehension. "I don't let him cum very often," she added, as if an explanation were needed.

"I see what you mean about his cock," Marti said. "It's very nice." She watched me straighten up after pulling off my socks.

"Is he going to cum when I spank him?"

"I don't know. He might."

"A lot of boys do," Marti commented. The voice of experience.

Janie had joined us. She sat on the couch next to Gwendolyn. She watched me intently, eyes big and round.

"Well, if he does, he'll have to clean it up. I make him swallow all of his cum."

Janie put a hand to her mouth, stifling a giggle. I managed to remain impassive, if you can call it that when your cock is visibly throbbing.

"I hope you won't mind the mess," Gwendolyn added. "He makes a lot of cum."

"Thanks for the warning," Marti said.

She stood up and pulled her jeans down, revealing a pair of sheer, lavender panties through which a dark, bushy mass of hair was visible.

"I'd rather not get stains on my clothes."

After peeling herself out of the tight denim, she removed her shirt. I almost gasped at the impressive sight of her huge pendulous breasts. They were encased in a matching bra whose sheer fabric failed to hide her large, dark areolas and thick, stiff nipples. She was a goddess, an earth-mother, a pagan fertility figure.

"I'd better remove these too."

Now, completely naked, she sat on her spanking chair and patted her wide, white thigh invitingly. I laid myself across her lap. My stiff cock slid between her legs and wedged itself under her left thigh. I felt her body heat. I could smell her femininity. I sensed her muscularity, the strength beneath her ample flesh.

She squeezed my ass cheeks, feeling their consistency and resilience, as if to calculate the correct force she would need to apply. I felt intensely vulnerable, helpless in a way that I knew was voluntary. I didn't have to be so compliant. I wanted to be, for my Gwendolyn and for myself, the submissive I had become.

I could hear whispering coming from the couch, behind me. Janie.

Marti gave my butt a light slap that resounded like a clap. She spoke.

"Do you wish this were you, baby?"

Janie's voice came, intense in its softness. "Yes, Mommy."

"Are you very wet, babygirl?" Marti's voice was as warm as Jamie's was needy.

"So wet..." she moaned softly, almost a whine.

"Do you want to masturbate?"

"Yes, Mommy. Can I please?"

"Do you want Gwendolyn to watch you masturbate?" I noticed it was "Gwendolyn," not "Gwen."

"Yes! I want her to see what a slut I am!"

I thought I might cum hearing her say that.

"Take off your clothes, slut." Marti's voice had become husky. "Get down on the floor and debase yourself." Her scent was now more musky.

Now she spoke to me for the first time.

"Tell me, little boy. Why are you here?"

"I need a spanking, ma'am. I've been bad."

"Yes, that's right. Bad little boys get spanked. Say it."

"Bad little boys get spanked," I repeated. It felt so deliciously humiliating. I was acutely aware of Gwendolyn watching me and maybe Janie too. My cock was leaking, making a slippery smear on the underside of Marti's thigh.

"Are you a bad little boy?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Say it."

"I'm a bad little boy."

"Do you need to be spanked?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Ask for it."

"Please spank me, ma'am."

*SMACK*

Her hand came down hard, suddenly, unexpectedly. My whole body jerked. Then I felt heat radiating from the place she had struck...

*SMACK* *SMACK* *SMACK* *SMACK* *SMACK* *SMACK* *SMACK* *SMACK* *SMACK*

Delivered with her open hand in a steady rhythm, each blow fell just as the shock of the previous strike dissolved into red-hot burning heat. Both of my cheeks were aflame and my eyes and nose were running.

"That's ten," Marti said with finality. "Now get up."

And that's when it happened. As I moved to get off her lap, my cock erupted, spewing its hot lava in clotted streaks over Marti's inner thighs. I quickly got down on my knees, and she spread her thighs for me to perform my task.

No one said a word as I licked Marti clean. The only sound was the wet squishes of Janie's fingers and cunt. Until she came with a low, moaning cry.

I was reaching the end of the last trail of cum, up near the rapidly dampening juncture of Marti's thighs. I could taste her musk and smell Janie's too. My head was swimming.

Marti stood up, leaving me kneeling. She helped Janie up too and took her naked wife by the hand.

"Thank you for coming," she said politely, heading for the stairs. "Would you mind seeing yourselves out? I'm afraid I have to put Janie to bed right now."