Tuesday, April 5, 2011
The book is volume 7 of my Chastity Cuckold Tales series. It follows on the heels of the popular Black Owned with the same basic theme: a white Wife/Mistress and her black lover, and the poor hapless husband turned into a chastised, sissy-maid cuckold.
Check out WSB Club at Amazon. Wouldn't "you" like to become a White Sissy Bitch? I thought so.
Sunday, March 6, 2011
The poor dear was over the moon as he stood naked before this ominous Domme. She commented on his cute, girl-like nipples and gave him a thorough inspection. I simply sat back and enjoyed it all. Yes, darling hubby was going to suffer today, pain and humiliation, and he would literally pay for it.
She feminized him with corset, stockings, bra (with rather large breasts!), locking high heels, a blonde wig and makeup. Hubby was forced to exhibit his sexy walk and "mince". Finally it was time for the darling white leather ankle and wrist cuffs and to strap him over a pink spanking bench.
How he squirmed when she paddled him. First a good old fashioned hairbrush, then on to other wooden paddles. His poor bottom quickly reddened and bruised.
Finally he was allowed a rest, of sorts, to suck at her strap-on. Goodness! He proved to be quite a willing and enthusiastic cock-sucker. My, my, such hidden talents; should I find a lover to put these new-found skills to use? One wonders.
His day ended as he was put back over the spanking horse to receive his caning. He thanked his tormentress for each and every welt. Days later the welts are still there. Poor baby. Of course my little slut can't wait to go back.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
I’m afraid I haven’t been attending to my Blog as I’d hoped. There have been some elder care family issues that needed addressed. I’ve also been consumed with writing and editing projects. Mistress has been editing a contemporary Christian romance work for another author, if you can get your head around that!
I’ve also been writing more of my Chastity Cuckold Tales short stories. For those of you who enjoy reading about wicked Wives, their Alpha Male lovers and the hapless sissy maid cuckolds who serve them, you might enjoy my Chastity Cuckold Tales series. They are available at All Romance E-books, Amazon and will hopefully soon be available at the Apple iBookstore and Barnes and Noble. (End of shameless self-promotion).
How about a contest my darlings? With prizes for the winners! Do read the short excerpt below, preferably on your knees dressed in your frilliest outfit. I’d like those who feel daring to act it out and send me a picture of their best interpretation of the story. The grand-prize winner gets an autographed copy of one of my books and other free goodies. I will select other winners for other prizes. Send me your best picture and a small narrative of how you acted out the scene. I’d like to put this story, and your pictures, on my web site, so obscure your face and anything else you don’t want to show and include the following: “I allow Constance Pennington Smythe full use to post this picture and my narrative on her web site…(signed, you may use your sissy name)”. Deadline for the contest is the end of April 2011.
I will notify those who win prizes. You may contact my publisher @ www.romancedivine.com for details on how to receive your prize. Please feel free to use any shipping address that provides you the necessary privacy. Heaven knows I’m not giving you my address and I don’t want yours either. The last thing I need on our suburban cul-de-sac is the neighborhood women pulling their children off the street away from “that horrid woman!” I also don’t need their husbands tapping on the glass door at my backyard deck at midnight, dressed in their maid’s outfits and offering to clean my toilets!
So get busy my babies. Let’s see what kind of Ice Princess you can be.
Whips and Kisses
He approached the sofa and curtsied. “The dishes are done, Mistress.”
She ignored him and continued to read her novel. Joanna knew he’d remain standing, silent, in his waiting position Her hand dropped lazily to the end table, a perfectly manicured and polished nail tapping only once on her silver cigarette case.
Larry bobbed a short curtsey of acknowledgment and quickly and quietly removed a cigarette, put it in the long black holder and offered it to his Mistress.
She accepted, again without looking at him, and waited for the lighter she knew would quickly follow. Her eyes finally fixed on the uniformed maid who stood waiting. “Take the trash sack out of the waste bin and bring the bin out here.”
For an instant, confusion flashed over his face, and then the conditioning kicked in. He curtsied and backed away, mincing off in his heels to the kitchen. Within seconds he returned, holding the tall plastic waste bin.
She motioned with her cigarette holder, a trail of smoke following, “Put it there, in the middle of the room.” She watched him carefully place the basket in position. “I’ve laid your things out on the bed. Put them on, only those things, do your makeup and come back.”
He silently made his exit from the room, remembering to concentrate on his posture and tiny steps, making each movement as delicate and feminine as he could. True to her word, sometime in the evening she’d arranged his attire on the single bed in his room. My room, he sighed. He took in the walls, the ones he’d painted in the pink and dusty rose, the decidedly feminine décor, complete with frilly pink curtains. His attire for the evening was a heavy white panty girdle and a white, too big for me, long line bra. His clear Lucite five-inch heels were also on the bed, along with opera-length white gloves, his blonde wig, long rhinestone earrings and his rhinestone tiara.
He quickly shed his maid’s uniform, taking care to hang it up, along with the rest of his clothing. Getting dressed for whatever game she has in mind this evening will be easy. It took more time to do his makeup, working to get the dark, slut, fuck-me eyes that Mistress Joanna preferred her submissive maid/husband to have. He gave himself one last look in his full-length mirror. OK, cute enough. But for what?
When he entered the living room he saw a TV tray next to the empty waste bin. As he got closer he saw the tray contained a plain spray bottle and two bowls—of—ice?
Joanna snapped her finger and then made a circular motion with it.
Larry stopped, responding instantly to the non-verbal command. Pose and model for Mistress. He gently brought his arms out, holding them straight at a forty-five degree angle from his body, palms down, parallel to the floor. He did the requisite quarter turns, holding his tummy in and pushing his bottom and breasts out.
“Very lovely,” Joanna mocked. She delighted in these uber-feminine displays. Her finger slowly unfurled from her hand until it was pointing at the waste-bin. “In,” she commanded, “facing me.”
Her submissive lifted first one leg and then the other, quickly assuming a standing position in the waist bin, which came up just below his knees. He waited.
Joanna rose and approached her husband. He doesn’t question any of this, he simply obeys. She circled him, stopping for a moment to adjust his tiara. “We’re going to play a new game tonight… Ice Princess.” She stepped back, “Yes, with the rhinestones and the long gloves you do look princess-like.” Her eyes narrowed, “And now for the ice.” She took a handful of ice and used her other hand to grab the elastic waistband of the confining panty girdle, “I crown thee, Ice Princess!” She pushed the ice in, down, arranging it around his chastity device.
He shivered, but held position.
“Oh, don’t worry, there’s more, your Highness, lots more.” She laughed as she circled him stuffing in more and more ice until his groin, hips and buttocks were encased in ice and the girdle bulged hideously. “Did you wonder why the bra I selected was so big? Were you afraid you wouldn’t be able to fill it?” She laughed, “Let’s give you some big ice boobies…okay?” She began filling the large bra cups with ice, “Glacial Gazongas, oohh, I bet those nipples are getting nice and perky!”
He shivered, afraid to ask what might come next, if I were allowed to speak that is. He watched as she picked up the plain spray bottle. Blasts of frigid, icy water pelted him as she coated his torso with the chilling liquid.
She stepped back, observing her handiwork, “You’re a princess, smile and wave to your subjects.” As he waved his white gloved arm and hand she sprayed more water on him. “I’m going to put this back in the freezer,” she held up the bottle, “to keep it nice and cold. Then I’m going to put in a DVD and watch a movie.” She nodded to the bowls of ice, “Keep stuffing your bra and girdle; don’t worry, I’ll get more if you run out.” She walked to the kitchen to put the spray bottle away.
When she came back she held a large black cock-shaped dildo. “Oh, and you’re a slutty princess who is the sex slave of the evil Black Lord.” She handed him the life-like cock, its dark ebony shape dwarfing his white satin-gloved hand. “Very pretty, okay, princess, suck that cock, grind those hips and wave to your subjects. Wave to those black stable hands, shake your booty for them, show them how you can suck a cock.”
He was cold—and humiliated, obviously her intentions. The cock in his hand was huge, he wasn’t sure he could get his mouth around it, obviously one of her new purchases. He did his best royal wave with one hand, very beauty pageant with the long white glove; while his other hand held the cock to his mouth. Droplets of cold water dripped down his torso as he undulated his hips, throwing in some belly dance waist slides that made Joanna smile.
“Very sexy,” she said, “keep it up. My movie runs about two hours, you be a good ice princess, sexy and quiet.”
© 2011 Constance Pennington Smythe All Rights reserved.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
He had to kneel to use his new desk; she’d had it custom-made according to her specifications. My specifications; he specified nothing in their relationship. Her rule was law, her merest wish a dictum whose violation wrought painful and humiliating retribution. She leaned in the doorway, clearly enjoying the spectacle before her. “Neat and pretty,” she ordered. She watched as her husband knelt, his trembling hands trying to carefully make the cursive lines he’d been taught. This first time is special, she thought, but I’ll never grow tired of enjoying our little ritual.
She straightened her posture, rising even taller in her stiletto heels, as her husband crawled forward, holding the pink heart-shaped tag with the purple writing. “Very nice,” she said, “you know what to do.”
She felt a shiver of power and authority flood through as she imagined the finished product, and watched as he silently nodded, turned and crawled away. Mmm, then again, it will always be a work-in-progress, repeated endlessly, keeping him in total submission.
ONE WEEK EARLIER
Samantha Dillon crossed her leg and flicked her ashes into the large crystal ashtray held in the outstretched arms of her submissive husband. The sound and motion of her legs stirred the captive loins of her husband Ted, now her sissy maid Tedi. She used the pointed toe of her stylish pump to kick his legs further apart. “Does it hurt when you try to erect in that chastity device? It looks so hideous sticking straight out.” Her toe tapped at the plastic cock cage.
“It’s uncomfortable, Mistress.”
She shrugged, “Then I suggest you try not to get hard or excited; seems like a simple enough solution—even for someone like you.” She continued to idly thumb through the pages of a fashion magazine.
Tedi took a deep breath and concentrated on the increasing pain in his arms and shoulders. The large crystal ashtray was getting heavy in his outstretched arms. He was required to keep his arms perfectly straight, stretched to their full length, ‘weight times arm equals moment’ she lectured him. Now she’s using principles of physics to torment me.
He tried to focus elsewhere, think of baseball batting averages, anything to pull his attention away from both the pain and the sexual excitement. He was awash in a sea of sensory stimuli; his eyes drawn to the silky sheen of the expensive stockings that hugged her legs and ended in an expensive pair of designer stilettos. His ears were assaulted by the rustle of the stockings as she crossed her legs, or the way she let the shoe slip partially from her foot and slapped it against her sole. The sweet smell of her perfume mingled with that of her cigarette, so that each breath reminded him of her dominant presence.
“Higher!” she ordered.
The heavy ashtray had dropped an inch and he struggled to bring it back to height.
She flicked an ash, “Keep it up, or you’ll hold it in your mouth.”
“We’re about to enter the next phase of our relationship,” she looked down at him, locking her eyes with his, “the one you begged for.”
He silently nodded; he could deny her nothing. When he’d married Samantha he’d married above his expectations. At five-eight she was only an inch taller than his five-seven, but she loomed over him in her ever-present stilettos. Her blonde hair, blues eyes and a curvy figure had quickly emasculated him and separated him from a six-figure trust fund.
“It’s no one you know, not this time, doesn’t mean that will always be the case.” She flicked an ash in his direction and smiled, “I met him at the gym; he was watching the anklet you bought me, the one that signifies I have a cuck at home. I told him about you; he actually didn’t seem that surprised, said he’d heard of such things.” She cocked her head and looked at him, “You’re sure about this? Once we start there may be no turning back. I may enjoy having lovers on my schedule.” She kicked at his chastity device and he almost dropped the ashtray, “Lovers with cocks that can actually do something for me. Speak.”
“Yes, Mistress, I believe you should have lovers, whomever and whenever you want. I’ll do my best to facilitate your needs in this endeavor.”
“Do your best,” she laughed. “Yes, I have no doubt.” She crushed out her cigarette but gave no command for him to stop holding the ashtray. “Your best will involve a lot; I expect the house to be immaculate when he arrives. You’ll have clean sheets on my bed, the pillowcases will be ironed. Sex toys will be clean with new batteries.”
He nodded, excited at his Mistress’s authoritarian manner and the plans of her love conquest. “It will all be as you desire, Mistress.”
“You’ll be dressed as a maid, not that tarty French maid outfit you have, but as an actual maid in a household. He’s expecting to see a completely submissive, feminized and domesticated sissy husband. You’ll receive more instructions throughout the week. My date is on Friday and he may well be spending the night, so you need to be ready to prepare and serve breakfast the next morning.”
“Oh, yes, Mistress, thank you, Mistress.”
“One last thing, I want you to go shopping this week; you’re to find the perfect pair of panties for me to wear on my date. They need to go with my black garter belt and seamed stockings; something that will excite and please my date, something very special—understand?”
“Yes, Mistress, it will be my pleasure, thank you.”
“And if you have a chance, you are to tell the salesgirl what they are for; that you’re buying that special pair of panties for your wife to wear on her date with her lover.”
His face reddened.
“What? I thought you wanted to be humiliated?”
“Then revel in your submissiveness and whatever public humiliation that may bring. Perhaps the salesgirls can help you select just the right pair of date panties. But I will expect you to present me with the perfect pair of date panties on Friday. Get your book!”
He sighed, grateful to place the heavy ashtray on the coffee table. Tedi rose, curtsied and backed out of the room. He returned, seconds later, standing at the ready, his pink leather journal in his hands.
Samantha didn’t even look at him. “In the corner, ‘I am a chastised, sissy cuck’ one hundred times.”
He curtsied his acknowledgment and went to kneel in the far corner of the room. Tedi lifted his bottom, Mistress enjoyed seeing it displayed when he wrote his lines.
“Neat and pretty, I want you to develop a very feminine hand.”
He wiggled his bottom in reply and set about writing his lines in a careful cursive style.
She smiled; he’s so malleable, so willing. Samantha picked up her cell and dialed her lover. “Hey, thinking about you—he’s in the corner, writing lines—yes, I think he is excited—I know, he’s looking forward to meeting you as well.”
Whips and Kisses
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
I posted three new homework assignments to my FREE on-line Sissy School at my FREE web site. That's right, Mistress never charges for her website or to chat. See how some of my "gurls" are working to become better sissies.
For those who may not know how my Sissy School works, here it is again. Go to my web page and look at Sissy School: Lessons/Assignments. Perhaps you might sit down with your Wife or Girlfriend and ask them where you need help in becoming a better Sissy Maid. Then you do the assignment and e-mail me your homework (written narrative in Word and pictures attached as separate jpegs). I will grade and post your homework on my website (look to see what the other girls have done) where my thousands of members can see how much of a sissy you are! Oh, sweetheart, the humiliation will be delicious.
I hope to receive more homework in 2011, so get busy. The women of the world need more sissy maids!
Whips and Kisses
Friday, December 31, 2010
I did gift my submissive with a lovely blown glass dildo. He was quite impressed with both the artistic quality of the device and it's rather imposing size. Good gurl that he is, he has shown me how well he is loving his new toy. I also got him the cutest little black cami to wear to bed; shamefully short so that his chastity device is on display and he has complete access for his new...ahem...toy. I suppose I spoil the little darling.
There's a new story in the works, another of my Chastity Cuckold Tales; watch for Cuckold Panty Wall to be released soon. You are reading my other Chastity Cuckold Tales...aren't you?
Have a wonderful rest of the year my darlings, what there is left of it. I'd love to hear some of your resolutions for the new year. Why don't you all resolve to increase the height of your heels by at least one inch this year?
Whips and Kisses
Monday, December 20, 2010
It's absolutely FRIGID here; yet I was compelled to make a sojourn to my nail salon...beauty and self-pampering prevails. I suppose that one benefit of this time of year is that fur, stiletto boots and long leather gloves become more than fetish items and serve functional, if fashionable, purposes.
And so I went to get my nails done, the cold will pass, but glamor endures.
Whips and Kisses