"Did you really mean it?" I asked Gwendolyn after Nate had left.

"Of course I did. Don't I mean everything I say?" She was seated in the chair that we had all used in turn: first me, then Nate, now her.

"Yes... but it was... I was just so surprised!" I was kneeling between her feet. We were both naked.

"I thought you should know. I just decided it, and so I said it," she explained. "I knew it would make you happy." I was licking her pussy and lapping up the excess fluid around it.

"Mmm," I said, swallowing her delicious juice. "Yes! Of course! I'm the happiest boy in the world!" She had announced that she was going to marry me a moment after she made herself come while watching me give my first blow job.

As if being in my favorite place, doing my favorite thing to pleasure my favorite person weren't enough, Gwendolyn had now confirmed that I was to be hers forever. It wasn't just the throes of orgasm that had spurred her to say, "I'm going to marry him." She really meant it!

"You never said anything. I had no idea you were even thinking about it. Why didn't you ask me?"

Gwendolyn laughed. "Why would I? You're already mine and you do everything I say."

She tousled my hair affectionately. I returned to worshipping her pussy. A warm glow spread from my tingling lips to the tips of my toes. It was true: I was completely and joyfully hers.

"That was the last test," she explained. "When you sucked cock for me. You passed all my tests with flying colors." She pulled my face away from her silky snatch and tilted it to look in my eyes.

"I'm so proud of you, baby. The best part was the way you asked Nate to fuck me. I know that was hard. You were so brave. And the way you said it was so beautiful, so respectful. I almost decided then. But I needed to see you surrender to a man, to take his cock for me."

I was lost in her beautiful eyes. Tears of joy filled mine and I shivered with excitement remembering how thrilling it had been, first tasting Nate's cock, then successfully throating it, and then making him come in my mouth.

"You liked it, didn't you, being a cocksucker for me?"

"Yes, Gwendolyn," I said. Pronouncing her name was a profession of my subservience.

"You liked his cum, too. I could tell."

It was true. I blushed, ashamed of how much I had enjoyed it. And I could see in her eyes that she recognized it. I would have hung my head if she hadn't been holding my chin.

"Oh yes, my little cocksucker, you love eating cum, and not just yours anymore. It was so hot to see you swallow Nate's cum. You want to do it again, don't you?"

"Yes, Gwendolyn." It wasn't just the pleasure it gave her that I had enjoyed. It began as simply that, but it was now the cum itself, the taste and the texture, that had evidently grown on me. And more than that, it was also the act of making a man come and eating it.

"Are you becoming a cumslut, Mike? Do you want me to take you to a glory hole where you can eat load after load from anonymous cocks?"

My cock throbbed. My face was hot. "Yes, Gwendolyn. I'm your cocksucking cumslut now."

"Look at you!" she said. "So eager!" She smiled proudly. "I'm going to reward you now. I'll let you come so you can lick it up and swallow it. Your reward for being so obedient today and asking Nate to fuck me."

She released my face and smoothed my hair affectionately.

"Where do you want to come? You can choose anywhere you like."

"Can I come on your ass? I want to lick your asshole. Please."

"Ooh, that sounds nice," she said seductively, "but then I wouldn't be able to see it. Don't you want me to watch you come?"

"Oh, okay. Yes," I said. I wanted to lick my cum from somewhere new. I had come on her tits and her pussy before. "Someplace new?" I said, uncertain. Coming on her face seemed disrespectful. "Not on your pretty face..."

"Would you like to come in my mouth, baby?" she suggested. "I'll hold all your cum for you and you can kiss me to take it all back."

"Could I?" I was flabbergasted. "Oh, Gwendolyn! That would be awesome!"

"Okay," she said brightly. "Let's trade places."

I sat on the edge of the chair and stroked my throbbing cock while Gwendolyn sat at my feet ready to receive my ejaculate. It felt very unsettling, like a reverse power dynamic, as if I were suddenly the dominant one.

Gwendolyn, with her genius, must have sensed my unease. "No coming until I say so," she said, resuming command.

I felt a comforting sense of relief. I watched Gwendolyn's attentive expression as my hand stroked smoothly, confidently, quickly bringing me to the edge.

"I'm going to count down from ten, then you can come. Count with me," she instructed.

"Ten... nine... eight... seven... six... five... four... three... two... one. Cum NOW!"

I counted with her, ceding control to her voice and the power of her will. I watched her lips as I felt my excitement increase with each successive count, and on command, I came.

It was an almost out-of-body experience. I felt no volition, just the power of her voice and the movement of her lips. Her mouth opened wide as the "NOW" resounded in my brain and my cock began spurting, pouring forth its offering into her waiting mouth.

She stood up, keeping her head tilted back and holding her mouth in that odd shape that keeps stuff from falling out. I leaned back in the chair and opened my mouth expectantly.

Taking my face in both hands, she bent towards me and, with her lips hovering right over mine, let the contents spill out of her mouth into mine. It was fresh and warm and fluid, unlike the cooling, sticky stuff I was used to licking off her tits and thighs.

I swallowed gratefully, noting the familiar flavor tempered with the clean taste of her saliva. Then her lips met mine and she kissed me. Her tongue pushed more cum into my mouth. I sucked her tongue clean and swabbed her mouth with my tongue for more, swallowing everything.

I put my arms around her, pulling her in close. She straddled my legs and sat on my lap. We kissed for a long time.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Later, after I'd done my cat chores, we settled down to study, Gwendolyn at her desk and me close by at the little table in the kitchenette. I found it hard to focus. I had so many questions and literally no idea what marriage meant to her or what she had in mind for our wedding.

"Gwendolyn?" I interrupted her. "When's the big day?"

I didn't mind having no say in the matter. It was totally in character for her and the nature of our relationship that I should follow wherever she chose to lead us. But I was excited at the prospect of formalizing my devotion to her.

"What?" She looked up from her textbook.

"The wedding. When is it going to be?"

A puzzled look on her face quickly dissolved. "Are you thinking about that?" She laughed, smiling benevolently. "That's years away, silly," she said. "We have to finish school first. Your law school and my undergrad. That's nearly four years at least!"

"Oh," I said stupidly. I had no idea she was thinking that far ahead.

"Now, don't you worry your pretty little head about that," she said playfully.

Then, more seriously, "What you need to do is keep your grade point average up. You're going to have get into law school here and that's not easy. I can't let you go away to any old school."

She knew I was maintaining a three point seven average. To be sure of acceptance I would need a three point eight and a high LSAT score.

"Have you registered for the LSAT yet?" she asked.

"No."

"That's okay. You have until April if you're going to take it in June. I'll make sure you don't forget. And I'm going to help you prep."

I was astonished. I couldn't believe that she had involved herself so deeply in my affairs. It reminded me how serious she was about owning me, that I was hers. I looked at her in wonder. She looked so serious. I wanted to kneel at her feet and worship her.

"Don't gawp at me, silly. Don't you have schoolwork to do?"

~*~*~*~*~*~

"I made an appointment for you," Gwendolyn announced at lunch the next day. We had just finished eating and I was getting ready to clean up. She handed me a torn-off piece of notebook paper. It said "Pandora's Paint Box, 964 E Main, 3:30pm."

"That's a tattoo parlor," I said, slightly alarmed.

"You're done with classes at three, so plenty of time to get there," she said. "It'll take about two hours. I'll wait for you in the library. We'll go eat when you get back."

"I'm getting a tattoo?" I was more alarmed now and not a little confused.

"Yes. I designed it. It's going to cost four hundred dollars. Do you have enough money?"

"Four hundred?" I was having trouble processing.

"Yes. Use your credit card. If you can't make the payment, I can help." She smiled at me. "I know you keep a zero balance. I like that." She picked up her bookbag. She had to go; her class was in less than ten minutes.

"A tattoo? What kind? I mean, what will it look like? Where is it going to..."

"You wanted something to let people know you belong to me. Remember?" She smiled at me over her shoulder as she left.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"Mike?" The girl behind the counter looked me up and down curiously.

"Yes. I have an appointment?" I stared at the exotic creature who knew my name. She had piercings in her lips, nose, and a row of them around her left ear. But even more startling were her tattoos, especially the tiger's face on her bald head.

She consulted a notebook behind the register. "Gwendolyn Jones placed the order, traditional calligraphy, two colors. That's five hundred dollars."

"She said it was four hundred," I said. That was already going to take a huge bite out of my savings.

"Ed!" the girl called out toward the back of the shop.

A door opened and tall man appeared. He looked like middle-aged hippy with his long grey pony tail. He was wearing a medical-looking smock over faded jeans.

"Is there a discount on the calli job?" she asked, raising her voice over the grunge track playing in the background.

"Yeah, didn't I put that down?" he replied. "Twenty percent." He came forward, hand extended. "Hi, I'm Ed, professionally known as Pandora." He chuckled.

We shook hands. "I'm Mike," I said.

"Gwendolyn's boy," Ed said. "Come on back and I'll explain how the discount works while I set up for your tat."

He led me to the back room and closed the door. The room was brighter and sparer than the front of he store.

"I understand you were referred by Marti Metzler. How do you know her?"

"Um, she's Gwendolyn's landlady." I guessed she had told Gwendolyn about this place.

"A fine woman," Ed said. "The discount is only available to friends." He seemed to be appraising me.

"So, your mistress says you are a Very Good Boy and will do as you're told." He looked at me expectantly.

My face felt hot. I felt distinctly uncomfortable. "I try to be... to do what Gwendolyn says," I said lamely.

"She says that you're a cocksucker, that you suck cock for her, is that right?"

My discomfort had become a tight constriction in my pants. His humiliating question had that effect, arousing me.

"Yes, sir," I said, assuming the submissive role.

"She asked for the BJ discount. Do you understand what that means?"

As outlandish as it sounded, it seemed pretty obvious. "I think so, sir," I said with a growing need to prove my subservience.

"Tell me," he demanded. His tone had become authoritative.

"I have to give you a blow job?"

"That's right. Any objection?"

"No, sir," I replied firmly. I had already decided I would do it for Gwendolyn, because she wanted me to do it. But my growing excitement was evidence that it was more than that. I wanted to serve this stranger. I wanted his cock in my mouth. I wanted to feel it, I wanted to suck it, to taste it, to bring it to climax. I wanted to make him come. I wanted to feel his cum in my mouth and swallow it.

With a profound sense of gratitude to Gwendolyn, I went to my knees and looked up at Ed. "May I suck your cock, sir?" I asked humbly.

"Go ahead. Enjoy," he said.

I opened his jeans, freeing a long, loose cock that began to stiffen and swell as I handled it. Warm to the touch, its skin became smooth and taut as it rose. It was taller than mine and about the same girth. Like mine it was circumcised, with a neat bell-shaped head.

I immediately put my mouth to it, taking the head in and closing my lips around the shaft. It had a lovely clean flavor. I breathed in the scent of his skin, sweat, and balls. My tongue pressed and explored the contours and texture of his knob as my mouth watered.

Again, I wasted no time, but bowed my head to take more cock inside me and to press it against the back of my throat, enjoying the frisson of resistance and the satisfaction of surrender as I forced it through, into my gullet, swallowing it along with my cock-flavored saliva.

I heard the man groan. I pushed further, all the way down. I held it there for several breaths, taking his musk in through my nose, pressed into his hairy groin. Then I proceeded, bobbing my head, fucking him with my throat. I became a cunt. All of me was focused on the fucking. A cock and a cunt. And pleasure. And a purpose. Make him come. Up and down. In and out. Over and over. Faster and harder. Make him come.

I made him come. I felt the warning tremors. I had enjoyed how far down my throat he reached. Unplumbed depths. I felt like a pussy, a sleeve for his nice long dick. A snug berth for his broad, flanged knob. But I had felt the warning tremors.

I pulled up and I stalled. I waited for the pulsing to begin. Every man knows that split second before the pulse erupts, that hair-trigger moment. Will it blow? Then it goes. And you wouldn't stop it if you could. And you can't. Everything goes, everything blows. And it's just the pulses, just the pumping, nothing else exists.

I waited. And the pulsing began. Into my mouth. On my tongue, filling my mouth with heat, with thick, hot cream. Its fumes filled my sinuses. My cheeks bulged. I let some of the head out through my lip-seal to make room. More! I wanted more cum. I could drown in his cum. That would be fine. He kept pulsing, filling my mouth. And then it was time to swallow. I swirled it and savored it and swallowed it down. I nursed on his cockhead, sucking for more. And it was done.

It hadn't taken long. He seemed surprised. As blow jobs go, it was pretty quick. The tattoo took a long time, though. He worked painfully slowly across the top of my chest and bandaged it when he was finished. I never saw it until Gwendolyn removed the bandage on Friday.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Where was Gwendolyn?

Our usual table in the library was occupied by a large man in a sweat-stained Metallica tee shirt. She wasn't at any of the tables around; several were vacant. I began to sweat.

In the quarter hour since I had left the tattoo shop, I had been feeling a growing sense of unease. Maybe it had begun in the studio, with the pain of the needle and the fading of my cumeater's high.

What had I done? I had sucked another cock - that was two in as many days - and I had submitted to a permanent alteration of my body without even knowing how it was going to look. Why? For Gwendolyn? A girl I had known for less than a week? How did that even begin to make sense?

Where was she!? I began to search.

I finally found her in the fourth floor stacks, among the anthropology periodicals.

"Oh, Gwendolyn! There you are!" I called out, rushing to her down the narrow aisle.

Laying the volume on a shelf, she turned and embraced me. "Mike!" she said, the familiar tones of her voice so sweet to my ears.

"What's wrong? You're upset. What happened?" She held me at arms length "You got the tattoo, didn't you?" She could see the bandage through my shirt.

"Yes, I..."

"Was it the 'discount?' I was sure you would like that," she said, drawing me back in, squeezing me gently.

"No... I... I didn't know where you were," I said lamely. I nuzzled her neck. Her scent was comforting.

"I'm right here, baby," she said soothingly. She stroked my hair. "Did you miss me?"

"Yes, Gwendolyn, I missed you so much!" I don't know why, but I was crying. Tears ran down my nose, wetting her shirt.

She pulled up the hem of her shirt and guided my head to her bare breast. I took her stiff nipple into my mouth and sucked on it gratefully. She stroked my hair with affection.

"I missed you too, baby," she said.

(to be continued)