Black Owned: The Collection: Vol. 1: Books 1 - 3
The first three Black Owned themed books by erotic and fetish author Constance Pennington Smythe have been assembled into this Volume 1 collection. The books include Black Owned, Black Owned: Society Slaves, and WSB Club. The books contain stories and scenes of Dominant Females, Black Masters, chastity, cuckolds, cross dressing, sissy maids and humiliation. Note: While the manuscripts have been tweaked there is NO new content, all the original characters, scenes, dialogue and story lines are intact. If you bought the original books, the story has not changed. This collection simply puts a cleaner version all in one place in reading order. The discounted collection price represents a good buy over purchasing the individual books for someone who has not read them.
FROM the AUTHOR: When I first wrote Black Owned (OMG, it seems ages ago!) it was a one-off, simply a short story on a new theme: Interracial BDSM. It was never intended to be a ‘series’. Yet, it sold. And sold. Much better than my other fetish fiction: Gay, Lesbian, Vanilla Bedroom Bondage, etc. So my publisher said we should do more. And we did, rolling out several other “Black Owned” themed books. It was a series only in that they all dealt with the Interracial BDSM theme. Any of the books could have been read on their own.
And now, the first three of these Black Owned themed works have been assembled into this collection. I have taken the opportunity to look over the manuscripts, fix errors, and do a rewrite here or there to clarify a scene. But the characters, content, scenes and dialogue remain intact. If you’ve purchased and read the original individual books there is nothing “new” here for you.
I did rewrite the original Black Owned for this collection, changing it from a first person Point of View to third person, to make it more in line with the other books in the ‘series’. I originally wrote Black Owned in the first person as an experiment, in hopes of drawing the reader more into the scenes. It was not something, a writing style, I was comfortable with, however, and I was never really completely satisfied with the results. First person POV can be wonderful, if handled in the correct literary hands: Robert B. Parker in his Spenser novels for instance. For me, not so much. As I said, these books are not necessarily a series in the strict sequential sense, however they do have some recurring characters that crop up here and there (something I borrowed from the late, great Robert B. Parker) so I have assembled the books in this collection in that order.
To reiterate, there is nothing “new” here, but if you’d like the tweaked versions, all in one place and in ‘order’, here it is my darlings. Enjoy, C. P.Smythe
The story so far (from Black Owned)…
Executive Craig Desmond found his life turned upside down when his social-climbing and over-sexed wife, Rebecca, invited her black lover, Marcus, into their lives. Shortly thereafter, Rebecca became pregnant with Marcus’ baby and submissive husband, Craig, had been feminized and turned into the nanny! It didn’t take long for Rebecca and Marcus to completely take over the house and lives of Craig’s rich parents. Rebecca turned her socialite mother-in-law, Evelyn, into a much abused maid, and family scion, Peter Desmond, became the house butler. With their new money and status, and ready access to the Country Club scene, Rebecca begins planning her next moves.
“Are they ready?” Rebecca Desmond brushed a lock of red hair from her dazzling green eyes and observed the creature before her. The young woman wore a spandex mini-dress that hugged her curves just right; especially the curves of her enormous breasts that threatened to spill out of the miniscule garment. She balanced expertly on a pair of spindly six-inch fuck-me pumps.
“Yes, Mistress.” Sara curtsied and her enormous breasts seemed to move on their own as she bent down to honor her Mistress.
“Their outfits are; shall we say… Appropriate?”
“Oh yes, Mistress!” Sara’s blue eyes gleamed with excitement. A large mane of teased blonde hair framed a pretty face and long black lashes and dark eye makeup made it sultry. Sara looked like a slut. “Just as Mistress ordered; cute pink satin party dresses, lots of white petticoats, seamed stockings, white opera gloves, blonde wigs and pink patent heels.”
“Excellent.” Rebecca nodded her approval. “I will see them tomorrow. Bring them to me at two-thirty. That way I can make any necessary adjustments before my guests arrive the next day.”
The young woman curtsied again. “As Mistress wishes.”
Rebecca studied her submissive slut for a moment before speaking. “And are you ready?”
“Oh, yes, Mistress I am,” Sara gushed.
Rebecca snapped her fingers, summoning the young woman forward. Her hand slipped under Sara’s dress, finding her slut’s wet and slick sex. Rebecca chuckled. “I believe you are ready. This gets your hot little slut pussy wet, doesn’t it?” Rebecca’s fingers stroked Sara’s clit.
Sara’s knees buckled and she moaned. “Oh, yes, Mistress.”
Rebecca smiled as she continued to finger-fuck her slut. “I expect you to put on a good show for my guests; show them what a little whore you are.”
“Oh, oh, yesss, Mistress I will be the best little whore for you.”
Rebecca removed her fingers and held them to Sara’s mouth. “Lick.”
Sara’s tongue flicked out and like a greedy kitten lapping up milk she tasted her own sex.
“Good girl.” Rebecca stroked Sara’s cheek. “Such a good, good girl.”
Sara purred at the praise from her Mistress.
“Kiss my feet,” Rebecca commanded.
Despite her sexual frenzy, Sara gracefully fell to her knees to bathe Mistress Rebecca’s high heels with loving kisses.
Rebecca smiled down at her slave. Soon you will be joined by others.
He was naked. She’d made him strip before Master Antoine, she and her lover laughing at his cock enclosed in the pink plastic chastity device. Master had placed thick black cuffs on his wrists and ankles, the locks clicking with a terrifying finality. He’d watched as his wife rolled the orange foam earplugs between her black gloved fingers, another sensory input denied as she slipped them into his ears and they expanded. Master Antoine held forth the leather hood, pulling it over his face as both Master and Wife/Mistress slipped into blackness. A gag probed at his lips and he instinctively opened his mouth, accepting the phallic invader, his tongue running over the life-like veins, tasting the sterile cock. He gasped and felt the intake of air, the gag had holes, it was breathable; his panic subsided.
Leather fingers closed over his balls and he winced, he felt the tug and followed, padding on his bare feet out the door, his wife leading the way. Strong black arms enveloped him and lifted him into the air. He felt the scratchy carpet and the closing of the trunk and the car doors. He was in the trunk of Master Antoine’s Cadillac—destination unknown.
Simon didn’t know how far they’d driven; he was thankful for Master’s Cadillac; it made the ride somewhat smoother. He knew the car well, although it was his first time in the trunk. He often washed and waxed Master’s car while Antoine bedded Michelle, Simon’s wife. As Master and Mistress enjoyed what had been Simon’s marital bed, he slaved over the car, carefully polishing the chrome and vacuuming the inside. His humiliation was abetted by the pink short-shorts and halter top they made him wear.
He slid forward, reaching out to brace himself as the car pulled to a stop. A few moments later he felt fresh air as the trunk opened and the massive hands grabbed him and lifted him out. Fine gravel dug into his hands as he was placed on his hands and knees on the ground. A new set of hands, not those of Mistress and Master he knew so well, placed a stiff leather collar around his neck. He was pulled forward and scurried ahead, the gravel abrading his hands and knees, blindly following—who—where?
Lenora Dubois rose from her chair and crossed the room. Her tight black pencil skirt and black knee-high boots with their pointed toes and four-inch spike heels did not impede her regal stride. She hugged her son Antoine in greeting and then embraced the beautiful blonde woman with him. Lenora took the delicate blonde’s hands in her own and held them at arm’s length, studying Antoine’s latest conquest. Blonde hair, stunning green eyes, perfect body, yes, this one is quite lovely, perhaps the prettiest one yet. “You must be Michelle; Antoine has told me so much about you.”
“Yes, mother, may I present Michelle Baxter?” Antoine’s basso voice contained a Caribbean lilt that beguiled many women.
“It’s so good to meet you,” Michelle said. “You have a lovely home.”
“Thank you,” Lenora led them to the sofa, “Antoine will give you the grand tour during your stay with us this weekend.” She noted what a stunning couple her son and his new woman made; even in her five-inch designer heels, Michelle was much shorter than the strapping six-five Antoine. His rich dark ebony skin was quite the contrast to the creamy peach tones of the diminutive white woman. Lenora’s eyes narrowed and her lips curled into a contented smile as she imagined Antoine’s giant cock sliding into Michelle’s many willing orifices—while Michelle’s submissive husband looked on.
“I realize you two have a wonderful evening planned,” Lenora said, “and you can meet the rest of the family for cocktails before you leave for your date.”
Michelle smiled, she felt relaxed and at home. Antoine was right; his mother is quite an impressive woman. Her voice held that same mellifluous quality as Antoine’s, but with perhaps more culture and better diction. He did say that she was a lecturer at colleges and universities. She was certainly a physically imposing woman, over six feet tall in the high-heeled boots she wore. Her skirt clung to wide, womanly hips and the cream-colored silk blouse did nothing to hide a pair of large, but proportioned to her frame, breasts. Straight jet-black hair fell to her shoulders and her coffee-brown eyes were alive and inquisitive. Michelle knew immediately where Antoine had inherited his good looks and stature, and undoubtedly his intellect as well.
“Antoine mentioned my husband being inducted into some club?” Michelle looked from Lenora to Antoine, “The WSB…?”
In lieu of an answer, Lenora merely picked up a silver bell, “Coffee?” She gave the bell two quick shakes. She and Antoine relaxed into the sofa.
Michelle sat forward, waiting, watching for…