Club Cuckold: Black Owned 3
Chastity Cuckold Tales
WELCOME! To Club Cuckold, the exclusive and private club where Black Masters, and their White dates, enjoy an evening of debauched entertainment provided by pink-clad sissy cuckolds. James takes Sara to Club Cuckold for the first time, Sara’s sissy-cuck-husband, Missy, obediently following in his skirt, heels and leash. From the sissy floor show and musical numbers, to the games and special drinks for cuckolds, it’s a night Sara and Missy won’t soon forget, and one Sara will want to repeat…again and again. Is it Missy’s fate to eventually become a frilly pink cocktail waitress and showgirl, serving Black Masters and White Mistresses? Anything can happen to sissy cucks at CLUB CUCKOLD. Note from the Author: Club Cuckold, Black Owned 3 contains guest appearances from characters in my other three novellas dealing with the themes of Black Masters with their white Female lovers…and those adorable chastised/cuckold sissy maids: Black Owned, Black Owned 2: Life Sentence (coming in the Summer of 2012), and WSB Club. Please enjoy these other works. Constance Pennington Smythe
“I can’t tell you how excited I am about this evening,” Sara shivered as James ran his manly hand under her dress and grabbed her bottom.
“It will be most entertaining, for everyone,” he ran his finger under her garter strap. “I approve.”
“Your instructions were quite specific,” she nearly swooned at the sound of his baritone voice. “And it’s nice to have a man around the house who knows what he wants.”
His laugh was deep and rich, “As opposed to your sissy?” he lifted her chin with his fingers and placed his lips on hers.
She whimpered as she felt his possession and opened her lips, meeting his tongue with her own, but yielding to its entry. Here was a man who knew what he wanted, and took it, and she found his authority compellingly sexy. Even in her nearly six-inch stilettos she had to look up at him; she rose on her toes to get closer, so much did she want to be completely possessed by him.
His hand found her breast and he kneaded it gently, an invitation of things to come. She gasped and moaned into his mouth when his fingers flicked at her nipple.
She broke the kiss, gasping. “Shit, James!” Sara brushed a lock of her auburn hair from her face, her brown eyes alive, “Do you want to take me upstairs and fuck me now?”
The laugh filled the room again. “I apologize, my darling. My ardor had the better of me. It is a tempting invitation, but I think you’ll find this evening most rewarding.”
Sara wiggled her dress back down over her ample hips as she smiled and narrowed her eyes. I don’t know how I ever snagged a piece of man-candy like this, but if that’s what being a Dominant Female Cuckoldress means, then I’m all in. She walked forward, placing one hand on James’s muscled chest and the other on his crotch. “Lover, I wouldn’t miss this night for anything.” She squeezed his crotch, “But there will be a payoff…for me…won’t there?”
“I promise, you’ll be completely satisfied, as you’ve never been.” James looked up as he heard the clicking of high heels approaching down the hall. “Ahh, I think our sissy cuckold approaches.” James put his arm around Sara, pulling her to his side as both watched Missy drop to his knees and crawl forward, planting a reverent kiss on each of their shoes.
Sara sighed to still her throbbing heart—and sex. This act of complete humility and servility always made her hot; to see her feminized sissy-hubby crawl and grovel at the feet of her and her lovers. She snuggled even closer to James. “Our little cuckold looks absolutely darling.” She snapped her fingers, “Look at me, Missy!”
Missy came to his kneeling up position; his hands clasped behind his back and lifted his head, taking care to avert his eyes. He felt Sara’s finger on his cheek, turning his head left and right to inspect.
“Oh—my—God! Look at those eyelashes.” Sara gazed at the obscenely long false eyelashes on cuckold sissy, and the dark eye shadow and Kohl-rimmed eyes. “I’ve never seen any that long.”
Missy blushed, but held his position.
“Bethany styles all of the girls at Club Cuckold,” James reached down to stroke Missy’s blonde locks. “This is the outfit for all the newbies, the pledges who want to become club Cuckold girls. The Club has a strict dress code, girly and slutty for cuckies and sexy for Dominant wives.” James stood back to give Sara and Missy an approving look, “Yes, I do believe we’re ready.”
Sara laughed, “Is that what you want Missy, to be a Club Cuckold girl?”
“Oh yes, Mistress, very much.”
Sara rocked back on one of her stilettos and eyed her sissy maid, “Then I suggest you be on your absolute best behavior this evening.”
“Up!” James snapped his fingers and buckled a pink patent leather collar on Missy when the sissy slut stood. He snapped on a chain leash with a pink leather handle and held it out to Sara, “Your pet for the evening, M’Lady.”
“Let’s go, sissy,” Sara jerked on the leash, pulling sissy behind Mistress and Master as they walked from the house.
As James and Sara settled into the booth Missy took the occasion to get a good look at the club. A large wooden dance floor took up the center of the room. It was surrounded by semi-private booths that gave the lovers a bit of seclusion, yet allowed everyone a clear view of the dance floor. Couples were still filtering into the club, with many already seated; Missy anticipated a full house. A long bar filled one end of the room and a DJ booth the other. The lighting was subdued, more intimate than dark, and the sounds of smooth jazz filled the room.
The audience was mostly black males with their white female dates. Missy noted that all the women, despite their age or figures had dressed like Sara, very sexy, with skintight dresses and fuck-me heels. The sissy cuckold found it quite erotic and his cock began to twitch and stiffen in its cage; especially at the sight of the many frilly pink sissies scurrying around the club.
Missy counted at least ten, but it was hard to establish the exact amount because they moved continually about the club, and all were dressed identically. It was a continual flurry of pink satin and white crinoline as their white, patent six-inch stilettos clicked across the dance floor, going from bar to table and table to table. Missy couldn’t help but notice their tiny steps and how the sky-high heels and the short steps gave them each step an erotic wiggle. He watched as a sissy wiggled over, stopping at the table to curtsy before Sara and James.
The sissy-maid-cocktail-waitress that stood before them had to be almost six-feet-six, yet the creature was absolutely feminine, not a trace of maleness visible. His long legs were encased in black, seamed fishnet stockings. He wore the same dress as all the other cocktail-sissy-maids, all pink satin and white lace at the neck, hem and larger cap sleeves. Long white gloves ran up past the elbow. A blonde shoulder-length wig, and makeup, dark smoky eyes, long lashes and pink pouty lips, made this lovely creature look like all the others.
The waitress curtsied again, “Would you care for a drink?’
Sara leaned in for a closer look, “She’s charming, James. Is it really a male?”
“They’re all males,” James chuckled. “Or at least what used to pass for males. Some, like Paulette here, have been feminized and trained to a rather high level, to become something…in between…man and woman. A true sissy being.”
Sara’s gaze landed on the one difference between Paulette and some of the other sissies in attendance. Paulette wore, rather proudly to Sara it seemed, a pink patent collar with ‘WSB’ emblazoned in glittering crystals. She peered through the dimly lit club and noticed a few other pink-clad mincing sissies wearing the same. “And that?” she nodded at the collar.
James’s smiled glittered in the light flickering from the candle on the table. “A true badge of honor for a sissy, wouldn’t you say, Paulette?”
Despite his size and perilous six-inch heels, Paulette executed a gracious and deep curtsy, “Oh yes, Master James. It is an honor.”
“A Cosmopolitan for the lady and a Gin and Tonic, Bombay Sapphire, for me,” James said.
“Of course, sir,” Paulette curtsied again and teetered of to fetch the drinks.
“She’s gorgeous,” Sara gushed. “What do you think, Missy, would you like to be a sissy like that?”
“Oh yes, Mistress.” Missy’s voice actually throbbed as he watched Paulette wiggle away.
Sara turned to James, snuggling closer in the intimate booth. “So this WSB thing…”
“It stands for White Sissy Bitch. Those who complete the rigorous training are awarded the collar and often put into exclusive service.” James pointed to the many sissies moving about serving drinks, lighting cigarettes and worshipping shoes, “Observe the ones who’ve earned their collars and you’ll see the highest incarnation of the cuckold, sissified male.”
“They seem so polished, demure and feminine.” Sara focused on a few who wore the collars and noted while their posture and movements were fluid, feminine and perfect, there was also a definitive air of submission and service about them. “How…how do they get like that?” She turned and cast an appraising eye at Missy, who remained perched on his pedestal, entranced by the erotic ambience of the club. “Could Missy be a, what was it? WSB?”
“Lenora hasn’t yet encountered a male she couldn’t train.” He chuckled, “Some take more training than others, yet those are often the most fun. To watch a confident male be broken under the authority of his Black owners…” He smiled at Sara, “Most of the wives find it quite erotic to watch their husbands undergo the transformation.”
“Mmmm,” Sara’s eyes narrowed and she felt a wet heat arise in her loins. “Lenora?”
“Lenora Dubois, a well-educated and cultured woman who runs the WSB franchise. She and her staff, family mostly, specialize in taking would-be submissive-white-chastised-cuckold males to their highest level of being. She helps them self-actualize into true sissy maids.”
“Really?” Sara’s mind was reeling at the thought of her Missy becoming like the gorgeous feminized creature that stood before them only moments ago. “Does she ever come here?”
James pointed to a booth set up higher than the others, an opulent enclosure that looked more like an ornate curving throne. “Lenora is one of the founders of Club Cuckold and has a reserved place of honor. And yes, if she is not traveling or lecturing, she can often be found here.”
Paulette minced into place, curtsied and served the drinks.
“Paulette, is your wife here this evening?” Sara asked.
“Yes, Miss Sara, she is here with her lover.”
“All the staff, except for the bartenders and security, are cuckold sissy maids,” James said. “Even when wives go away on romantic weekends with their lovers, they often send their sissy-maid husbands here to work on club weekends.”
Sara reached out to lightly caress the WSB collar and watched Paulette blush. “You’re very pretty, and most feminine.”
“Thank you, Miss Sara.”
“Are those,” Sara’s eyes went to Paulette’s impressive décolletage, “yours?”
Paulette gracefully thrust his breasts forward, “Yes, Miss Sara, the implants were presents from Mistress and Master.”
The lights dimmed and the music faded from the soft jazz that had wafted through the club to a more techno/disco beat. Sara noticed how the patrons took their seats and focused their attention to the dance floor. Next she saw all the pink sissies scurry to the bar. There was a clattering of spike heels over the wooden dance floor as they all rushed, quite sexily, to deposit their trays on the bar and then line up in one long line.
The music rose, not eardrum-splitting, but Sara could “feel” the bass vibrate the floor of their booth. It added a certain visceral element to the growing erotic excitement of the evening.
“Missy!” James’s voice startled the sissy, who jumped, nearly falling off his pedestal perch. “Pay attention,” James ordered.
“Yes, Master James,” Missy bobbed a curtsy on the small platform.
The music settled into a percussive four-four groove and the line of pink sissies began doing a hip-drop with their right hip on two and four; their hands on their waists, proudly thrusting their sissy titties forward.
Sara clapped her hands in glee, “It’s a sissy chorus line! Oh, they’re so sweet.”
James stroked her cheek, watching her in the flickering candle light, “There’s so much more, baby.”
She nestled closer to him, losing herself in his manliness, “This is so awesome. I never imagined…”
The sissies marched forward at the song’s chorus, right foot over left in a pronounced and very feminine catwalk strut. Their hands gracefully rose from their hips and they linked their arms around one another’s shoulders, all the while blowing sissy air kisses to the audience as the strutted to the middle of the dance floor. Suddenly they all turned to the right, bending forward at the waist and placing their hands on the sissy bottom before them. They performed a circuit around the perimeter of the dance floor, mincing on their sky-high stilettos and wiggling their bottoms, all while maintaining strict positions.
Sara laughed out loud and clapped her hands. “They’re really good. Oh my God, they are so precious! Who could have imagined a bunch of men could do that?”
“Yes,” James’s laugh competed with the club music, “I suppose they were men once, but they’re just sissy cuckolds now. Submissive she-males, content to kneel before their wives’ lovers and suck black cock and eat cream pies.”
“Oh, God!” Sara shivered at the erotic images James conjured up.
The sissies had now completed their sissy promenade and were once again lined up in one line in the center of the floor. They locked arms and began a series of unison kicks. Sara noticed the tall and statuesque Paulette holding place in the center of the line, the rest of the sissies fanning out from him by height. Paulette led the center forward as the ends curved around behind him until the sissies formed a circle, facing the audience. Then they sang.
CLUB CUCKOLD WELCOMES YOU! All the sissies blew a kiss with their right hand and pointed to the audience with their left.
LET US SHOW YOU WHAT WE DO! The sissies locked arms and began a series of knee kicks.