A Use for Cuckolds?

I’m hard at work on new Chastity Cuckold Tales stories. I hope to release Black Owned on 12 November. There is another story that has a similar theme that I’m working on called the WSB Club. WSB stands for White Sissy Bitch. You want to be a member of that club? I thought so.

Last evening was a wonderful night of dancing. I’m thinking that might make a rather elegant story: a dance hall where women go to meet and dance with Alpha Male Bulls while the hapless chastised husbands serve as coat-check girls and waitresses. Yes, I think I’ll start making some notes on that. How many of you would volunteer for such duty? Can you imagine yourself mincing about in your heels and scandalously short cocktail waitress uniform, taking the drink orders of your wife and her lover, kneeling to shine his shoes during a short break in the dancing? What if your wife invites some of the people from your office as her guests that evening? Your boss, your secretary, will see how you curtsy and grovel in serving your wife and her lover. My, my, your work life will never be the same.

Then again, that’s really what you need isn’t it, darling? To serve and submit. And that’s what we want for you too, baby. So go put on your prettiest dress and your highest heels and polish your silver serving tray. You’re going to need lots of practice walking and serving; small steps, bend at the waist and offer the tray. And smile sweetheart, we want to see a happy cheerful sissy maid attending our events. I’d love to hear what you’re planning to wear.

© 2010 Constance Pennington Smythe

Mistress Constance

Foot Worship

My Darlings,

It's another evening of dance for Mistress. Don't you wish you were here, on your knees, watching me pull the dance tights up my legs. So smooth, so shiny. Think how that handsome younger man will feel when I do a sensuous leg crawl up his leg during the Tango. Or when I do an American Spin in the Swing, and my dress flies up, showing so much leg.
And here you are, at home, on your hands and knees, scrubbing the bathroom tile with your toothbrush. Didn't you do that last night? Oh well, it can never be too clean. If you manage to finsih that chore I've left a list of others on the refrigerator. When I come home you may service me.


I'm home. Ah there you are. Miss me? Hmm, that curtsy was sloppy; do fifty more before bed and remind me to cane you tomorrow. Crawl to me and remove my shoes. Now...smell my feet; do you like the way they smell after hours of dancing? You may assist in removing my tights, but put on your opera gloves, I don't want your hands actually touching me. Young, strong male hands have been holding me all evening. Hands that deserve me, excite me. Yours are the hands of a sissy maid.
Yes, you may smell the crotch of my dance tights. If you do a good job of foot worship you may even take them to bed with you, to sniff, to suck, to taste. To think and dream...of ME.
Lick my feet, show me how much you love and adore me, let me feel the depth of your submission through your tongue. Lick between the toes, suck them. Goodness you really are a slut. What else would you do for me? I wonder.
(c) 2010 Constance Pennington Smythe

Nighty Nite, my babies,
Mistress Constance

New High Heel Ritual

Good Morning My Darlings,

Here's a little something to start your day. I wrote this in first person so that you may better put yourself into it as you read. I want you to become that tortured and tormented submissive. That is what you want, isn't it. To suffer for ME, endure MY humiliations?

Enjoy...

The tinkling bell catches my attention. I dry my hands and straighten my apron. My stilettos click across the floor as I scurry, with tiny steps, to Mistress. She insists I take small steps, having once complained, 'I don't want you clomping about like some fisher woman'. The proper gait and posture were obtained with countless walking drills and punishments for non-performance. I knew that Mistress would be listening to my approach, her ear could tell when my walk did not meet her strict specifications. I executed a low and delicate feminine curtsy, another requirement dictated by Mistress. Then I waited, in silence.
Mistress ignored me, didn't even acknowledge my presence. She read a few more pages in her book then looked up at me. "Display," she ordered.
I performed another curtsy, this time lifting my dress as I rose, to display my chastity device.
She picked up her crop, using it to move the chastity device around, inspecting it and my cock imprisoned inside. "Mmm, these look rather full and tight," she used the slapper on the end of her crop to tap my balls. "No, you're not getting released, what's the point in that? Present," she said.
At this command I turned and bent at the waist, still holding up my dress. My bottom, framed by the straps of my garter belt and the tops of my stockings, was presented to Mistress. This posture was used for punishment, humiliation, or to present my pussi for use by any Master or Mistress.
"Spread," she ordered.
I reached around and grabbed my buttocks, opening my ass cheeks to display what Mistress called my 'pussi'.
She poked it with her crop, "Are you plugging this slut-hole in the shower?"
"Yes, Ma'am," she required me to plug my pussi in the shower, to keep it conditioned to being 'used'.
She set the crop on the sofa. "Dress down."
I lowered my dress, turned around and placed my hands behind my back.
"You like wearing high heels, don't you," she asked.
"Yes, Ma'am," I performed a small 'bob curtsy' a bending of my knees, a ritual that accompanied every response to acknowledge an order from a superior.
Her smile was not one of warmth, rather it was a prognosticator of misery. "Good, then you will wear heels all the time in my house."
"Yes, Ma'am."
She was silent, it was an uneasy silence. "All...the...time, from the minute you get out of bed until you go to bed. Not in the shower of course, but at all other times."
"Yes, Ma'am."
"I'd advise you to keep a pair by the door so you can slip into them the moment you enter the house."
"Yes, Ma'am."
"If there are times when this will not be practical "I" will decide." She paused, "You are not allowed on the furniture." She saw my confusion and smiled, "Something you don't understand?"
"No, Mistress, I mean-"
"This is MY furniture, in MY house. You are not allowed on it unless I give you express permission, which won't happen often. There's simply no need for you to 'sit'. There is plenty of work to keep a maid and secretary occupied, and none of it requires sitting."
"Yes, Mistress"
"You like to wear high heels, I'm simply providing you an opportunity to wear them...constantly...all the time. Rather generous of me, don't you think?"
"Yes, Ma'am. Thank you Ma'am."
She cocked her head toward the kitchen, "Move your computer to the ledge above the counter. That should provide a place for you to use it while standing. You can work, standing on a hardwood floor in your heels, and be readily accessible to service me."
"Yes, Ma'am."
"You have a lot of heels, don't you?"
"Yes, Ma'am. Mistress has been very generous in allowing me heels."
"I have, haven't I? And I expect to see you wearing all of them. You will change throughout the day...and afternoon...and evening. My own little living high heel model. You may change whenever you like." She picked up her bell, "But if I ring this bell and say 'Heels' you will go and change, and return and model your heel selection. If I don't happen to like them, you'll be disciplined with six strokes, cane, whip, paddle, my choice. Then you'll go and change into something else...and you'd better hope I like those."
"Yes, Ma'am."
"No matter how many hours you've been in heels, I expect perfect posture, you will take tiny steps, your tushy and titties out, tummy in. Perhaps I'll allow you to kneel or crawl at times...maybe."
"Yes, Ma'am, thank you, Ma'am."
She laughed, "I condemn you to days and hours of foot misery, and you thank me." Seems reasonable enough. Also, you will begin wearing gloves at all times."
I nodded and bobbed another curtsy, "Yes, Ma'am."
"Do you know why?"
"Because, uh, it please Mistress to make me do so?"
She considered this. "I suppose so. After all, you do things simply because I order you to. Three reasons. One, you will wear gloves because I say you will. Two, you will wear them because I don't want you touching my things with your bare hands." She waved her hands to indicate her house, "Everything here is mine, even you belong...to ME. This," she poked at my chastity device with her crop, "and the useless and hideous thing inside belong to me. And I don't want you touching any of it with your bare hands. Three, the gloves will make you look cute and sexy. When I have guests they will enjoy seeing my little slutty sissy maid in her dress and heels and gloves mince about my house, serving me and my guests. Perhaps they'll even be excited by your appearance and want to fuck that sissy pussi of yours. You'd like that wouldn't you?"
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Slut! You may find it difficult, at first, performing all your daily tasks wearing gloves. Not my problem, I don't care. You'll adapt soon enough, in a few weeks or months. I'll also expect to see several glove changes throughout the day. We'll start getting some use out of all your gloves and heels...won't we?"
"Yes, Ma'am."
She snapped her fingers. "Go change your heels and put on gloves, then make me some fresh coffee."
I executed the deep curtsy required when leaving her presence and teetered away, remembering to take small steps and swish my bottom as required.
"Shorter steps," I heard her call out to me as I walked away, "or I'll bind those knees again."
I remembered when she first started my "training". By Saturday afternoon she was disgusted with my 'steps' and wrapped me in saran wrap from my waist to my knees, leaving my chastised cock free and on hideous display. She secured the wrapping with duct tape. The rest of the weekend I struggled around the house, forced into the tiniest of steps, taking forever to move from one place to the other. Mistress was amused by my plight. "Too difficult?" she said. "Too bad. My advice is to learn to walk like a proper slutty sissy maid, and the sooner for you...the better."
(c) 2010 Constance Pennington Smythe

Did you enjoy that my darlings? Then go and do it, stay in those heels ALL day. Let the sound of your stilettos clicking around the house be music to my ears. Be my precious high-heeled slut.

Mistress Constance

Your Release

Darling, I'm very impressed with your alacrity in answering my bell. Your training is coming along quite nicely. Mistress Diana was also suitably impressed the other day by the enthusiasm and thoroughness shown in your cleaning of her shoes. Your exceptional tonguing was duly noticed. I believe you deserve an award...perhaps a release from your device?
Bring me the tray from the kitchen. Careful, there's a wine glass full of water on it!
Good girl, over here stand in front of me; let me remove your device. How long has it been? Weeks? Poor baby, you must be so frustrated.
There all off; feel good?
Let's see, you're right handed? Then hold the tray in your left hand. Higher, sweetherat and hold it out further.
Feet together. I like the six-inch heels you're wearing, quite lovely. Feet together. Careful, keep your balance. Don't spill any water from the glass on the tray.
Now, you may stroke your clitty. Use the thumb and little finger of your right hand. On the out stroke say 'Thank you, Mistress Constance' and on the back stroke say 'I'm a sissy slut'.
You have five minutes to pleasure yourself. Feet together, posture, darling. Hold the tray up. Don't spill the water! If you spill a single drop of water we stop and you get locked back up.
Stroke and repeat your little mantra; try to make sissy cummies for Mistress. Hurry, baby, time is running out.
Sweetheart, you are so precious. Are you humiliated? Suffering? Excellent.
Mistress Constance
(c) 2010 Constance Pennington Smythe

Relaxing at Home

My Darlings,

Mistress is about to enjoy some of her guilty pleasures: a Cognac, Dancing with the Stars on the television and a human footstool.
After my subby brings me my Cognac I'll send him to fetch the...punishment heels (insert ominous music here). It's so amusing to watch him crawl up the stairs and return, holding the wicked heels so tenderly between his lips.
The shoes? They are black patent, perfect for some tongue worship; with pointed toes and wicked 5-inch silver (metal) heels.
Ahhh, so nice to relax, watch my slave gingerly slip the shoes on my feet and then take his place on hands and knees before me...my human footstool.
I'll enjoy the dancing (Maxim and Tony...yummy!) and torment my human footstool. Don't worry, I won't break the skin, but I'll leave bruises and nice red marks where I s-l-o-w-l-y drag that metal heel across that tender sissy maid flesh.
It's so good to be me. And where would "you" be in my little scenario? Hmmm?

Mistress Constance

Excerpt from Black Owned

Good Morning my darlings,

Mistress slept in after an evening of dancing. My subby made coffee, he looks so sweet in his white lacy ankle socks, black patent Mary Janes with a 4" stiletto heel, white apron over his black dress, white/black lace choker and white lace wrist-length gloves with a cute ruffle. Don't "you" wish you could be my Saturday morning sissy maid?

Mistress has a treat for you this morning, an excerpt from my next Chastity Cuckold Tales: Black Owned. I "do" spoil you, don't I? You may read it after you've finished all your chores. THAT includes scrubbing my kitchen floor with a toothbrush; I found a couple of crumbs behind the trash can. I know you can do better, so here's your toothbrush, down on your knees and get to work.

From BLACK OWNED:

Marcus reached out and grabbed handfuls of Rebecca’s breasts, kneading the creamy flesh in his large, strong hands. “Better git your white ass up here boy, git mah cock hard, ‘cause that’s the way your wife likes her cocks, big, black and hard.”

“Better do it,” my wife taunted. “And hurry, your wife doesn’t like to wait for cocks.”

I climbed onto the bed, licking my lips, lubricating them to encircle Marcus’s massive fleshy pole. It was Sunday morning, and I’d been serving Master and Mistress since Friday evening when their love-nest weekend started. I didn’t even bother counting the number of times I’d had a cock in my mouth, either getting it hard for Mistress’s pleasure or cleaning it after Master had fucked my wife. The number of occurrences no longer mattered; my focus was providing Master and Mistress the best sexual experience possible and I was expected to be both enthusiastic and appreciative.

Rebecca looked over her shoulder to see me taking Marcus’s cock in my mouth. “That’s a good husband. See, we both get to enjoy a real cock…”

A Real Cock. Our prior sex games, a little BDSM and Female Domination, had led to this, me sucking her lover’s black cock. One weekend at a swinger’s party hosted by a neighbor (who knew?) and Rebecca had her taste of a real cock. She’d fucked two men that night, one a well-hung black lawyer, and there was no turning back. She became a swing party regular until one of the women turned her on to the world of cuckolding, chastity and black lovers.

“It’s a chastity device,” she explained, holding out the CB-6000. “I thought the whole Female Domination/male slave thing turned you on?”

“It-it does, but…” I stared at the device; the tube that would enclose my penis looked so small.

She read my thoughts, “It IS small. It’s the short version, smallest one they make.” She stood back, sexily rocking one foot on its stiletto heel. “Are you going to be my slave? Isn’t this what you’ve been badgering me about? To take control?”

Her voice had an abrasive edge, but I couldn’t deny the scene was turning me on. “Sure, I fantasize about you being this type of Mistress who—”

“Then get fucking naked and on your knees.” She waited, “Well?”

Within seconds my clothes were on a chair and I was naked, on my knees in the middle of the room.

“Geez, was that really so fuckin’ hard?” She held the device out, “Do you know how to put this on?”

I nodded, “Yea, I’ve seen—”

She slapped me, hard, nearly knocking me over. “Listen, do you want to do this Mistress/slave thing or not?” She grabbed my hair and pulled my head up, “Yes or no?”

“Yes, I—”

She slapped me again. I cringed.

“There’s no ‘yes’ or ‘yea’. It’s ‘yes, Mistress’ or ‘no, Mistress’. Now,” she continued, “do you want to be my chastity slave?”

I swallowed, “Yes…Mistress.” She brought up her hand and I flinched, but she caressed my cheek.

“See,” she smiled, “that wasn’t so hard. When you do what you’re told it will go much easier for you.” She brought her fingers to my lips and I kissed them. She placed the device in my hand. “Go upstairs, shower, shave your groin. Come to think of it, get rid of all the body hair. You can keep the eyebrows and your head hair, but all the rest…it has to go. Put on the device and report back to me.” She stepped back and extended her foot.

I bent down and kissed it. Kissed away my manhood, my marital bed, my cock and balls for all the use I get out of them.

Things progressed quickly from that point. We kept going to the swing parties, but I no longer participated, Mistress dismissed my situation with a, “It’s locked up, really no use to anyone here; honey, why don’t you go help the hostess, wash some glasses, clean some ashtrays.” My submissiveness and chastity quickly became a boon to the swing parties and I was little more than a servant to those in attendance.

Rebecca soon took to sleeping only with black men, praising their physical endowments, sexual prowess and physical stamina. I admit I’d never been a dynamo in bed, but always thought Rebecca had been satisfied. Perhaps she had, until she discovered real cock…

Now, here I was, naked, my cock locked away now for several months, and sucking Marcus’s cock.

Rebecca was leaning forward, dangling her tits in Marcus’s face, and waving her well-fucked bottom in my face. She’d never performed anal sex with me, but couldn’t get enough of that huge cock in her back door.

“Is he doin’a good job, honey?” She moaned as Marcus pinched her nipple. “Getting you all hard and wet for me?”

BYE for now. Whips and Kisses,

Mistress Constance

Foot Slave

I'll be going dancing tonight. Ballroom dancing. In the arms of younger men. I imagine all my submissives will be at home, polishing and organizing my shoe collection, cleaning bathrooms, washing and ironing my boyfriend's shirts. Perhaps, if you've done your chores, you'll be allowed to worship my feet when I come home. Yes, no doubt your eyes will be drawn to my legs encased in the shiny dance tights, but do try and focus darling. I want to feel your tongue on my sole, long loving licks from heel to toe. Who among you will earn the right to worship Mistress's feet?

Mistress Constance