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From: dantedibby@aol.com (Dantedibby)
Subject: Seurat's Twighlight Zone #3a :The Twighlight Cafe
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Warning!  The following material is adult in nature.  That means
if you are underage or this material is not suitable in content to
survive the scrutiny of those who make the laws in your area of
the world, do not read it.

This material most probably contains: Male and Female
domination; vaginal, oral, and anal sex; sex of a
semi-consensual nature; fetishistic adornments and sex toys;
nasty torture for characters I didn't like; and a little plot thrown
in for good measure and to separate the sex scenes.

The characters in these stories are not real, but may be based on
real people that I have known, met, or seen.  I'll never tell.

This and all my other stories are copyright (c) by me, Seurat. 
Permission is given to reproduce this material only in electronic
form and then only for personal use.  If I find out that you are
selling my material without my permission, I will track you
down.  What the characters in my stories do to each other is
nothing compared to what I can do.  On with the stories.


  The Twighlight Cafe, by Seurat


     "C'mon, Hank."  Joseph protested, "It's a once in a lifetime chance,
and as
senior's we ain't gonna be around much longer.  We're talking the
Twighlight Cafe,
where they give blowjobs with every drink.  Besides, this party's a bust."
     Hank looked around, nodded agreement.  He hadn't been able to get any
of
the girls loaded enough to go upstairs with him tonight.  "Who's getting
us in?  It's
special invite only, or so I'm told."
     Joseph hesitated.  "Jerry.  Jerry O'Neill.  He has some connections."
     "What is it, fag night?"
     "You know he ain't queer.  Besides, he said tonight is models night. 
All them
babes from The Twighlight Zone are going to be there.  It's the only night
that 
outsiders can get in."
     "Could have surprised me.  Get the guys, we all go."  They'd all seen
the
dog-eared catalog from the 'Zone'.  It was like the one from Frederick's,
only a lot
thicker and nastier.  More expensive, too.  They carried everything for
anybody;
latex to lace to leather, jewelry to bondage gear.  And every piece was
modeled,
with three or four shots, viewed from different angles.  It was a
fraternity treasure;
they'd never been able to get another one.  Hank started getting a hard-on
just
thinking about it.
     "Nope.  Said he could sneak in only four.  I figured me, you, Fitz,
and maybe
Larry."
     "Sounds good.  You drive.  Be good to get away from the fraternity
scene for
a while, get me some fresh meat."
     "He said dress nice.  Suits if possible."
     "Suits?  I ain't changing to go to some fag bar."
     "At least sports jackets and ties, then.  Can't get in without them."
     "Okay." 


     Jerry was waiting in the parking lot when the boys pulled in.  BMWs,
Porches, Ferraris, and a multitude of other expensive cars filled the lot.
 Hank
sneered, "the cover better not be too much.  I only got about fifty on
me."  The other
boys laughed.
     Jerry looked at them, and turned to Joseph.  "I thought you were
going to get
dressed, you know, suits?"  Joseph averted his eyes, knowing Hank would be
the
one to reply.
     "What's the matter, pansy, should we have dressed all queer-like,
like you?  If
jackets and ties ain't enough for these people, then screw 'em."  Jerry
was dressed
all in black; black leather pants, black boots, black denim shirt, and a
black sports
coat.  Around his right wrist was a thick white bracelet.
     "Yeah, who died?  What's with the clothing?  What are you, some type
of
artsy-fartsy?"  Larry quipped.  "There better be some hot fuckin' babes in
here, or
your ass is grass, man."
     Jerry stared at them a moment, as if contemplating a  comeback.  "If
you're
coming, then lets go."  He led the way to a non-descript steel door in the
back of a
large warehouse.  To the side was a buzzer, and after Jerry pressed it, a
window in
the door slid open.  Jerry raised his right arm, exposing the bracelet. 
"And four
guests." he said, though the boys could see nobody behind the window.
     The door creaked open, revealing a long dark hallway lit only
intermitantly by
overhead lights.  Jerry walked in, turned and waited.  After a second,
Hank led the
others in.  "This better not be a scam, O'Neill, or I'll bash your fucking
head in." 
Jerry started walking down the hall.
     As they headed down the dim corridor, the entrance door slammed shut.

"Just like in them movies, eh Hank?"  Larry chanted.  Jerry was really
getting tired
of his fawning.  <fucking toadie>
     The faint sounds of music could be heard from down the hall, a heavy
bass
vibrating the floor.  They turned a corner, and were almost deafened by
dance
music.
     "Man, oh man.  Look at these fuckin' babes.  Looks like the little
Larry is
gonna be makin' a lot of honeys happy tonight." Larry bragged.
     Fitz murmured, "I always wondered what heaven was like."
     Hank had to set the mood.  "Yeah, so what.  I betcha if O'Neill here
can get
laid here half these bitches are either whores or guys in drag."
     No matter what they said, the four boys were impressed.  This was no
frat
house, and this definitely was no frat party.  Before them was a flight a
stairs leading
down to a huge round dance floor, complete with lasers, strobes, and
diamond balls. 
The ceiling, 50 feet over the dance floor, was made of huge plates of
stainless steel
that reflected the lights back down.  To the left of the entrance was a
long bar, and
beyond that were cocktail tables on a balcony so the floor could be
watched.  To the
other side were booths for more private meetings.  Another bar connected
the
cocktail area to the booths, completing the outer ring.
     It wasn't the Twighlight Cafe that overwhelmed them though, as
impressive as
it was.  It was the people that filled it.  All told there was probably a
few hundred
people in there, the likes of which they had only dreamed about.
     The women seemed to all shop at the same store.  High heels and spike
heel
boots adorned all their feet.  Tight dresses and pants suits were the
standard, no
t-shirts or even sweaters.  And gloves were worn by at least half of them.
 Leather
and latex were the preferred materials, and most of the women were in red.
 All of
them looked like they worked out for hours a day and had surgery done to
enhance
areas of their bodies.  None looked over thirty-five.
     The guys, if they wore clothing, were dressed in all black, like
Jerry, or in
white or blue.  The ones not wearing clothes wore g-strings or leather and
steel
harnesses.  They appeared to be waiters.  Even so, their was probably one
server for
every two women their.
     "Told you.  Look at them guys.  It's a fucking queer bar."  Hank
always had
an opinion.
     "Well, you've seen it.  If you want to leave, go ahead."  Jerry
seemed a little
pissed.
     A very attractive brunette in white with matching cowboy boots at the
bar
spotted them standing in the doorway and came over. "Jerry, I'm so glad
you could
make it.  Are these your friends?"
     "Yes, Ms. Worthington, these are the ones I was telling you about. 
Guys, this
is Ms. Worthington.  She owns the Twighlight Cafe.  Ms. Worthington, this
is
Joseph Seift, Larry Lade, Fitz Urban, and Hank Prah."
     She smiled,"Pleased to meet you all.  Any friend of Jerry's is a
friend of
mine."
     Joseph and Fitz mumbled a "and very pleased to meet you" back.
     Hank spoke.  "Nice place you got here.  I don't suppose they serve
beer here,
do they?"
     "Could you point me to the bathroom? I have to see a man about a
horse."
Larry interjected.
     Ms. Worthington seemed a little taken aback.  She pointed, "Bathrooms
are
over there.  I'm sure we can get you a beer, dear."
     "Gonna see what the action's like." Fitz said, as he headed towards
the dance
floor.  "C'mon, Joe."
     The group dispersed, leaving Jerry and Ms. Worthington.
     "Nice friends you got there, Guest Jerry."
     "Yes, Mistress Worthington.  Very nice." 



     Hank sidled up to the bar.  <look at these fucking whores.  Betcha I
could
show them a thing or two>  He ordered a beer.  A blonde woman next to him
turned
and said,"Beer?  I would have thought a handsome guy like you would have
ordered
something a little stronger."
     Hank looked at her.  She was something out of the movies. 
Zebra-striped
elbow length gloves matched the striped knee high boots, complete with
four inch
spike heels.  She was wearing a black leather dress that didn't hide much
of her
ample cleavage.  Long blonde hair framed a zebra skin mask through which
green eyes 
and full pink lips were visible.  Hank caught himself before he started to
drool from his 
open mouth.
     "Excuse me?"  He couldn't remember what she had just said.
     "I just thought you were more of the whiskey or vodka type."
     "I sort of wanted to gauge the prices first.  Looks like they have to
pay the
rent here somehow."
     "Then how about I buy.  Gary?"  
     The bartender appeared, "Yes, mistress?"
     "Give my friend here an 'On All Fours'.  You do like rum, don't you?"
 Hank
nodded.
     "Very well, Mistress."
     "Mistress?  Isn't that like one of those bondage things?" said Hank.
     "Actually, it's a term of respect.  I have enough stature in this
place that that is
what they call me.  Someday you may respect me enough to call me
'Mistress', too"
     Hank felt a sort of erotic fear.  He knew she was hitting on him, but
that
usually happened when a girl had been drinking.  Besides, she could have
had any
guy in the joint.
     "I'm Hank.  Pleased to meet you."
     "Pleased to meet you, Hank.  I'm...not giving my name out to open
range
guests.  You came with Jerry, didn't you?"
     "Yeah.  Who would have believed the little fag could get us in a
place like
this?"  Hank took a swig of the drink.  It was strong, but tasted good.  A
couple of
these in a girl and she'd be flat on her back with legs spread.  Or, as
the name
implied, on all fours.  "What's an 'open range guest'?"
     "You are.  You don't dress in the clothing of a member.  And you're
not
showing the band of an invited guest.  Which means you're here unattached;
free to
roam the open range.  Lucky for you that you're exactly what I'm in the
mood for. 
Big, smart, and handsome.  To tell you the truth, Hank, sitting here at
this bar
looking at all these perfect bodies has made me really horny and, seeing
as your
here alone, I wondered if I could take you upstairs and fuck you."
     Hank's mouth dropped again.  He'd used a line like that plenty of
times and
had ended up in bed plenty of times.  He already had a hard-on, and now
this babe
wanted to go fuck him. <slut>
     Doubts surfaced.  "I don't know.  I better not.  My friends."
     "Screw them.  Let them get their own excitement.  This is a one time
offer,
buddy.  Take it or leave it."  She stood up, looked Hank in the eye, then
turned and
walked away.
     "Wait!"  Hank gulped down the drink, put the glass on the bar and
trotted
after the woman.  The stories he was gonna tell about this bitch would be
far beyond
anything she was going to do to him. 



     Larry maneuvered his way through the crowd.  <Most of these babes
could
be porn stars! Look at them tits!  None of the super huge ones, either!  I
gotta get to
the bathroom.>  It seemed to Larry that a fair share of the women were
dressed in
clothes like they had in the Twighlight Zone catalog.  His head snapped
around,
recognizing one women.  <Holy shit!>
     He was positive.  She was one of the models from the catalog.  He
looked
around again, noticing that the women in red all looked like they were
models.  The
other women were beautiful, too, but he hadn't masturbated over their
pictures. 
Two very attractive brunettes in red latex teddies and red latex boots
stood
outside the doors to the bathrooms.  Larry looked close.  The Twins!  The
times he
had fantasized about them were too numerous to remember.  He moved in for
the kill.  
     "Good evening, ladies.  I was wondering if you would like to come in
and
give me a hand?"
     The girls smiled.  One looked down at Larry's right hand, then
whispered
something to the other.  "We'd like to, but we can't fuck free roamers."
     It wasn't the reaction Larry expected.  Usually it got him a 'pig' or
'asshole' or,
if he really leered, a 'why, can't find it by yourself?'.  He entered the
bathroom
slightly dumbfounded.
     Inside was just like any other bathroom.  Larry found an empty stall,
dropped
his pants, and began to jerk off.  This was too much.  What was with the
look they
gave his hand?  <Jerry wore one of those bracelets.  Must mean he's a
member.  I
bet they would've fucked me right there if I had one of them things> 
Larry started
to scheme.  He listened carefully as he heard another person come in, and
by the
sound of it he was drunk.  Larry zipped up, and waited.
     Larry heard the person enter the stall to his right, close the door,
and after a
few moments he heard vomiting.  <so even a ritzy place like this has
drunks>  The
person got up and opened the door, and Larry did also.  He turned and
walked right
into the guy.
     "Hey man, be careful!"  He grabbed the guy to keep him from falling
backwards.
     "Sorry.  Must have had too much to drink."  The guy was dressed in an
Armani suit, they same medium blue as some of the other people.  He didn't
notice
Larry open the bracelet and slide it off as Larry led him to the sinks.
     "Why don't you cool down a little.  The heat out there will do it to
you every
time."  The man mumbled a response.  Larry turned, but before he opened
the door
he went to put the red and gold bracelet on.  The catch was a little
mangled, and
wouldn't close correctly.  "Shit."  Larry pulled out his wallet, found a
postage stamp
he kept in there.  He licked it and smoothed it over the catch, keeping it
in place. 
"Time to get some pussy."
     The door opened and Larry walked out, immediately looking for the
twins. 
He saw them talking to a very attractive redhead dressed black leather
boots, pants,
and shirt.  Now that he knew to look, he noticed that none of the three
wore
bracelets.  He adjusted his and walked over.
     The three women looked up at him.  The one in black frowned at first,
then
smiled when she  saw the red and gold bracelet around his wrist.  She said
something to the twins, and the giggled.  As Larry reached them, both
stood
straighter, thrusting out their chests.  Larry realized the latex not only
was red and
tight, but let some of what was underneath show through.  His erection,
the job in
the bathroom left uncompleted, was twisted painfully in his underwear.
     "Ladies, we meet again.  Are you sure you wouldn't like to change
your
mind?  I might teach you something new."  Both giggled, and looked at the
other
woman.
     She spoke.  "I am Agent Katherine, their trainer.  If you are
interested in
buying their contracts, I'm sure we could work out some kind of deal." 
Her voice
had a Gaelic lilt to it,  and her green eyes flashed at him.  Larry found
it hard to
speak.
     <must be a modeling agent>  He'd heard a lot of 'mistress' comments,
along with a
bunch of other titles, like 'guest' and 'agent'. <She thinks I'm one of
these big shots
'cause of this bracelet.  man -o-man, have I stepped in it>
     "Pleased to meet you.  I'm Larry, um, guest Larry."
     "Well, Guest Larry, this is slut Mitzy and her partner slut Ditzy. 
I'm sure we
could go to a private room  upstairs so you could check their training. 
That is, if
you are so inclined."
     "You mean have sex?  Sure!"  <slut? Must be okay with them if she
calls
them that.  Hank must've been right; they were whores>  "Um, How much is
this
going to cost me?"
     "Your first experience at the club, eh?  They can only be bought or
sold, not
rented.  Consider it a trial run.  I expect them to pass any of your tests
with flying
colors."
     <wow>  "Then lets get them upstairs.  It's been a few hours since I
had sex,
and little Larry is getting mighty anxious."  The Twins giggled. 



     Jerry and Joseph sat at one of the small tables with a view of the
dance floor,
where Fitz danced with nobody in particular, enjoying the feel of the
crowd around
him.  He usually had problems finding partners.
     "How the hell did you ever get into this place?"
     "My aunt is one of the owners.  In fact, she is probably going to be
here
tonight.  It looks like most of the other owners are here already."
     Joseph looked out over the crowd.  "How can you tell?"
     "Simple.  Citizens are big shots who want a chunk of the action; they
and
their guests are in white.  Agents and their guests are in black. 
Twighlight Zone 
Models are in red;  Owners wear their own colors, and their guests wear
what 
they want.  The ones without much on are their personal servants."
     "Ms. Worthington's a citizen?  She was wearing white."
     "She's the owner.  She can wear whatever she wants."
     "So we're owners guests, and your an agent?"
     Jerry smiled.  "No.  That's what the bracelets are for.  All guests
wear them. 
As guests of a guest, you guys don't get them.  Most of the members won't
have
anything to do with you."  He took a drink. "But you might get lucky with
another
guest.  Sex is pretty open at these events."
     Joseph mulled it over.  "You mean, those women in red out there, the
ones I
would give my left nut for, are all models for the Twighlight Zone?"
     "Yeah, the guys too.  They can do stuff in bed you can't imagine."
     "So Fitz doesn't have a prayer out there, does he?"
     "Nope."  Jerry took another drink.  "Joe?  What happened to us?  I
mean, we
were pretty good friends in grade school.  But you sort of dumped me for
that ass
Hank."
     "I don't know.  He's very powerful; he's always doing something.  I
guess I'm
sort of drawn to him.  I know it sounds weird, but he's very charismatic."
     "Why does he hate me?  I get you guys in here, and he still just
gives me
shit."
     "You don't fight back.  Give him shit back; show him your his equal. 
He
doesn't pick on people he respects.  He just doesn't respect you."
     "So if I give him shit, he'll stop harassing me?"
     "I didn't say that.  He harasses everybody.  He just won't do it as
much."
     At that point Tara Worthington showed up, seating herself between the
two. 
"Are you boys talking about me?"
     "No, Ms. Worthington," Jerry replied.  "We were discussing some stuff
from
school." 
     "Oh.  Jerry, would you mind getting us some drinks.  I'd like a
little time with
Joseph, here."  Jerry nodded and left, dismissed.
     "So Joseph.  Have you made any plans for after graduation?"
     "No ma'am.  I've been on a lot of interviews, but nothing has panned
out.  I
guess I'm not really sure what I want to do.  Four years of college, and
no ideas yet. 
I was thinking of going into grad school."  Joseph thought she couldn't be
more than
thirty, but she seemed wiser and more confident than anybody he knew.  Her

attitude demanded respect; Joseph felt like a little kid talking to the
principal.
     "Have you ever thought of modeling?  The Zone is always looking for
good
looking guys like you.  A little more meat, a little training, and you
could be out
there dancing with a six-figure contract in your back pocket."
     He looked at the men on the dance floor.  Most were wearing only
tight 
leather shorts."Dress like that?  I don't think so."
     "Independent models start at two thousand a day per shoot; those with
contracts earn more than twice that and enjoy special perks.  Two years
out of
college you would have all your student loans paid off, a nice car, and a
place to call
your own."
     "Are you kidding me?  You think I could do that?"
     "Sure.  Why don't you come to my office tomorrow and we'll work up
some
contracts.  I've an office over at the Baum Dietrich center."
     "Can't tomorrow.  I've a big test.  Could I do it the day after, Ms.
Worthington?"
     "That would be fine.  Here comes Jerry with our drinks."



     Fitz moved his hips, swaying to the music.  Girls surrounded him.  He
was
smart enough to know they weren't really dancing with him, but he'd had a
few
drinks (they were free) and didn't really care.  One really caught his
eye.  She was in
a black leotard, heels, and gloves, but unlike others in black she also
wore a white
bow tie with a matching ribbon in her tightly bunned brunette hair.  She
spotted him
staring at her and moved in.  "HI!"  She shouted over the music.
     "HI!"  He shouted back.
     "I LIKE THE WAY YOU DANCE!"
     "THANKS!"
     She moved in close, matching his movements flawlessly.  The went
through
three songs, then the music paused.
     "Could we rest for a moment?"
     "Sure."  He motioned towards the back bar.  This woman was incredible
looking.  Big brown eyes, pouting lips.  He  couldn't take his eyes off
her hips.
     "I was wondering.  I noticed you're a free roaming guest.  I've got a
magic
show to do in a little while, and I was wondering if you would help me
out."
     "Sure, I guess.  I just thought..."
     "That I wanted you for something else?  I guess I do, but we can
discuss that
later.  Will you do the show?  It's only one trick; an transformation
illusion."
     "Okay.  What do I have to do?

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