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Subject: Seurat's Twighlight Zone Series #2a: The Shop
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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 Shop, by Seurat



     Carol looked out the passenger window again, across the parking lot
at the store at the end of the cul-de-sac.  Just thinking about going in
there was making her nervous.  Hell, she thought, just sitting in the
parking lot was making her nervous.  How was she going to get herself
inside?
     Not that she would be the only one there.  The lot was half filled
with cars, attesting to the popularity of the store.  Whoever owned the
store had chosen a perfect spot; one of the old 'company' buildings from
the city's boomtown eras, it was accessible yet secluded.  Even so, Carol
was nervous that somebody would recognize her.  Again she looked out
the window at the non-descript store.  A few mannequins posed in the
windows in skimpy costumes, a hint of what lay inside.  A huge walnut
and leaded glass led to the secrets that lay behind.  Over the door was
painted the name: The Twighlight Zone.  Underneath was written: The
store with the exotic twist.  Only, the 'x' was written ambiguously enough
that it could make the word 'erotic'.
     A porn shop, or at least as close as this city would get to a porn
shop.  Rumor had it that any type of clothing or sexual toy could be had
in
there.  A treasure trove of delights.  And therein lied her problem.  If
she
was seen going in there, it would be admitting to the world that she and
her husband had sex, and that she was willing to add some spice to it.  If
she were seen she would be branded as a slut.
     Carol thought it over for the hundredth time that afternoon.  It
wasn't for her she was doing this; it was for Thomas, her husband.  Just a
little something to thrill him on their anniversary.  Steeling up her
courage, she got out of the car and headed for the front door.  Nobody
would see her.  Nobody had better see her.  Her pace quickened as she
started up the steps.  Was it difficult for men to walk into pornography
shops?  The rush of adrenaline, the racing heart, the sweaty palms?
     Just as she reached the front door, it opened, and Carol nearly
turned and ran back to the car when she realized it was a doorman
opening the door so she could enter.  Ducking her head in thanks and in a
vain attempt not to be seen, Carol hurried inside.  And stopped dead in
her tracks just a few feet inside the door.
     The store was huge.  Huge like a major mall store.  Far beyond what
she had expected, or thought could exist, given the store front.  Marble
and carpet covered the floors, and racks of clothes surrounded her.  It
was
so far beyond what she expected that Carol stood in the entryway, mouth
agape.
     "Ma'am?  May I help you?"
     "Excuse me?"  Carol turned to the saleslady that had come up
beside her.  She was dressed in a sharp business suit, again, not what
Carol
had expected.
     "I asked if I could help you.  You have the look of a first timer."
     "Well, yes, but I think I would like to look around by myself.  Thank
you."
     "Quite alright, ma'am.  If you have any questions, feel free to ask. 
My name's Janice."
     Carol hadn't taken three steps into the bizarre store before she
turned to find Janice straightening a rack.
     "Janice?  I think maybe I could use a little help.  All this rubber
and
leather and whatnot is all very confusing to me.  I just wanted to get
something to, um, I mean, it's for my husband."  Carol blushed deeply.
     "That's quite alright, ma'am.  Let me show you what we have; The
Twighlight Zone prides itself on satisfying every customer, or your money
back."  Janice beamed at Carol, pride showing in her face.  Carol calmed
a bit.
     "Before we go too far, Janice, I was wondering if you could tell me
about the name.  You know, what with the television show, and
everything."
     Janice smiled again.  "Actually, ma'am, we don't have anything to
do with the show.  The owner is from Europe, and had never seen the
show.  She wanted a name that conveyed a feeling between day and night,
between light and dark.  When the creatures of the dark come forth.  A
twighlight time, and thus a twighlight zone."
     "You make it sound so...I don't know, almost malicious."
     "In a way it is, ma'am.  We at the Zone realize that our products are
about the loss of innocence.  Traditionally the role of hedonists.  What
most people come to realize, though, is that we are here to help improve
relationships, whatever they may be."
     "Hedonism is quite the word.  Everything here reeks of sex."
     "I assure you, ma'am, none of our products have been used, and
except for the leather, has been de-scented as far as possible."
     Carol laughed.  "I meant that it all has an essence of sex."
     "Sorry, ma'am.  It's just that some people are very accusatory when
they come in here.  Back to the reason you are here: a present for your
husband.  Did you mean you wanted something to wear for your husband,
or something for your husband to wear?"
     "You have clothing for men?  As in lingerie?"
     "Yes, ma'am.  In fact, we are currently running a special package
deal called,'Seven Saturdays to complete Sexual Slavery".  It comes with
costumes, make-up, and sex toys, along with an instruction manual on
how to sexually enslave your man.  It's been a very popular item."
     "Slave?  You mean, it turns my husband into my slave?  I don't
think I want that."
     "It's meant to make a female the dominant partner in a sexual
relationship by playing on a male's sexual fantasies.  There are some
drawbacks.  Not every women can handle or even desires the
responsibility of constantly being in charge of her husband.  Also, some
men get too far into the fantasy and refuse to return to the former
relationship.  They have too much fun."
     "Fun as a slave?"
     "Yes ma'am.  The lack of decision making responsibilities is a
strong sexual fantasy among many men.  Being tied up, sexual
deprivation, the whole leather and boots thing."
     "I had wondered about that."
     "Many women do, ma'am.  They wonder what the attraction is, and
are afraid to try it.  Some really get into it, some decide they don't
like it.  The reason we suggest it, at least once, is that as a dominant
she can order your mate to tell you about his fantasies.  From there, she
can match up elements with her own fantasies and improve her sex life."
     "Hmm.  The way you put it, I might have to give it a try.  Show me
what else you have."


     Janice led Carol through the front section of the store, where racks
of silk and lace lingerie crowded the aisles.  As they moved deeper into
the store, they encountered more and more customers, each attended by one
or more salespeople.  Many were filling baskets or writing on notepads. 
They reached the center of the store, and Carol noticed that the store was
laid out like a wagon wheel with aisle spokes separating each section.  
Lingerie that you might find in a Victoria's Secret store.  Leather
outfits.  
Clothes made of rubber.  Bondage devices.  Toys.  Electronics.  Other
sections that Carol could only imagine.
     "Ma'am?"  Carol snapped back to reality.  "It can be a little
overwhelming, at first.  Have you decided if the gift is to be for you or
your husband, or would you like something for both of you?"
     "Um, I thought maybe a little slave girl outfit.  Or maybe something
to tie him down with.  Oh, I don't know.  Help!"  Carol laughed in
exasperation.  "It's for our tenth wedding anniversary, and we're possibly

going to the shore for two weeks.  I just wanted something to add a little

bang to the beginning, if you catch my drift.
     "I think I know what might do.  Have a seat in here, and I'll bring
some items back for you."  Janice led her to a changing area, then
retreated into the store.
     Carol looked around her, at the people and the clothing.  Ten
minutes ago she was merely a housewife; now she was a sexual deviant. 
She looked at a mannequin dressed head to toe in a zippered leather body
suit complete with spike heeled boots.  How could anybody walk in those
things?  Carol walked over to get a better look, and realized that the
mannequin was breathing.  She was so startled, she jumped back and
bumped right into Janice.
     "There's somebody in there!"  Carol blurted out in surprise.
     "Yes, ma'am.  All the mannequin's you see are actually models.  If
you would prefer not to try on a piece of clothing, or if you would like
to
see how something would look on a certain body type, they are here for
your shopping pleasure."
     Carol took another look around the store, paying closer attention to
where the 'mannequins' were.  A male in the 'toys' area was trussed in
chains and had his mouth filled with a bright red ball.  She thought of
herself dressed in the zippered leather outfit, with Thomas all trussed up
and unable to protest as she teased and tormented him.  He always did
talk too much and ruin the mood.  She would be in control for once. 
Maybe be just use his body for her own.  Maybe she should try this
dominance thing.
     "What's that over there, Janice?"
     "It's called 'The Housewife Harness'.  Instructions on how to mount
the eye bolts and hide them as plant hangers until they're needed.  The
set
includes wrist and ankle restraints, the spreader bar, blindfold, the
leather posing pouch, and your choice of a ball or penis gag.  Cock rings,
butt plugs, and nipple clamps are extra."
     "Penis gag?"
     "Yes ma'am.  Different sized gags in the shape of a penis, molded
out of plastic, rubber, or leather.  Gives a straight male the feeling
that he is being forced to suck a penis.  Great for threats."
     "Come again?"
     "If he acts up, you threaten to get a real penis to replace it, or
tell
him it's all just practice.  As I said, great for threats."
     "I couldn't bring another man into our bedroom."
     "It's the thought that counts, ma'am.  The mind is the most erotic
device ever created." 
     "What were those other things you mentioned?  Cock rings, butt
plugs, and clamps?  What are they for?"
     "I can show you, if you want."  Janice led Carol over to where the
model hung.


     Carol was truly intrigued by the entire idea now.  "How would I get
him into this.  I mean, I don't think he's about to let me truss him up
like
that."
     "You do it in steps, ma'am.  Dress in something sexy, and surprise
him while he watches the t.v.  Entice him back to the bedroom, promising
him that you have something special in store.  Have him put on the pouch
and blindfold while you change into something really kinky.  Take down
the plants and truss him up, then take off the blindfold.  You'll be able
to
gauge his reaction by the bulge in the pouch.  The rest is up to you.  It
does come with a beginner's guide."
     Carol looked back at the zippered leather outfit, the one with the
heels.  "Do you have that in my size?"
     "Yes, ma'am.  In fact, I've already picked one up for you."


     Carol smoothed tight leather over her legs, and stood up.  Her legs
wobbled on the towering high heels and her legs were cramping from the
strain, but Janice assured her that she would get used to wearing them in
time, even if it was for only short periods of time.  She strode over to
the
mirror and looked at the figure before her.  A domina, Janice called it. 
This was going to be an anniversary that Thomas wouldn't soon forget.
     "Janice, I think this could be the start of a beautiful
relationship."
     "I certainly hope so, ma'am.  I certainly hope so."
    

     Carol spread out the packages on the master bed, then ran
downstairs to get her husbands drill and some other tools.  When she
returned, she stripped naked and, dropping the tools on the bed, reached
for the little instruction booklet.  She began reading it as she went to
her dresser and pulled out a sweatsuit.  The book gave instructions on how
to find the rafters in her ceiling, the best placement of the eye bolts
for minimal embarrassment when dealing with visiting family, and a host of
other
things.  Carol noticed that she was having a hard time concentrating on
the work before her.  Visions of Thomas trussed up flitted through her
mind.  She might just have to masturbate before she got started.

     
     Thomas sat in his favorite chair and clicked on ESPN.  Carol had
told him to cancel their dinner reservations that night as she had cooked
up something special for him.  He didn't smell anything from the kitchen,
and when he got home Carol had told him to watch fifteen minutes of
television, then he could come upstairs.  The thought of sex was making
him erect; they didn't make love that often, and if he was lucky he might
even get a blowjob.
     Fifteen minutes dragged on forever, or so it seemed, and Thomas
went upstairs.  As he reached the landing he was surprised to find Carol's
sweatsuit in a small heap.  His pace quickened as he went up the second
half of the stairs.  The door to the master bedroom was wide open, and
the room itself was lit with candles.  A few extra hanging plants were set
in front of two of the windows.  On their bed was his wife Carol, dressed
in sexy red lingerie, and holding a glass of red wine.  A teddy, Thomas
thought, that's what they call it, I think.
     "You're still dressed.  How can I tell if you like my anniversary
present if you still have your pants on?"
     Thomas kicked off his shoes, unzipped his pants and pulled
everything from the waist down in one fell swoop.  He unbuttoned his
shirt and pulled both his undershirt and dress shirt off over his head. 
His
member was growing visibly at the sight of his wife sitting up in bed.
     "Oh, Thomas, always jumping the gun.  If you can blow out all
these candles and get onto this bed by the time I count ten, I promise
I'll
give you a night you won't ever forget.  Over ten, and we'll make love but
you'll never get to see my other surprises.  Ever.  GO!"
     After a moment of hesitation while the words registered in his
mind, Thomas ran around the room, his now erect cock slapping into his
legs and apparently trying to trip him up.  Carol counted out loud, slowly
at first, then getting quicker as he neared completion.  In total darkness
he leaped onto the bed just as she said, "Zero."
     "How's that?"
     "Very good!  Wait, don't say anything, and don't touch me unless I
tell you.  I've got something special planned for us tonight, and if it
works out, the it will last the entire weekend.  Maybe the whole two
weeks.  So be quiet and do everything I tell you, understand?"
     "Mmmm-hmmm."  Thomas agreed through closed lips.
     "Good.  Thomas, I have to tell you, I haven't had a thing to eat all
day, and I'm really hungry.  Why don't you slide your legs over the edge
here and give me something to fill my stomach?"  Thomas' prick jumped
at the thought of his wife giving him a blow job, let alone swallowing. 
She'd always said she would taste his cum as soon as he had.  In the dark
he watched the silhouette of his wife slip off the bed, pulling his legs
in
her direction.  He scuttled over to the edge, laying flat on his back with
his feet on the floor, erection hanging over the edge of the bed.  He felt
his wife's hands caress his inner thighs, then push his legs further apart
as she moved her body between them.  One hand lifted his cock from were it
lay stiff against his belly while the other began playing with his ball
sac. 
His wife's mouth kissed the head of his cock, then she ran her tongue
slowly licked up it's underside.  Thomas relaxed on the bed, enjoying the
sensations his wife's mouth were creating.  He could feel his climax
rising, and evidently so could she, because she stopped before he could
cum.
     "Thomas?  If I let you cum now, will you be able to 'perform' for me
later?"
     "Um,"  Thomas debated answering.  A blow job usually drained
him in more ways than one, and he was never up to sex afterwards. 
"Probably not."
     "Didn't I tell you not to talk?"
     "Mmmm-hmm."  He tried to make it sound apologetic.
     "Then we'll just save it for later, okay?  You may answer that
question."
     "But...It feels so good, and I'm so close."
     "Stop your whining.  What I've got planned for you will feel better. 
A whole lot better."  Carol got up from her position on the floor and
stood 
before Thomas, her body a dark shadow in the room.  She leaned over
and pushed the wine glass into his hand.  "I'm gonna go change into
something a little more appropriate to what's going to happen next.  I've
left you something I want you to wear under your pillow.  If you don't
think
about it, it'll be easier to put on.  I'll be out in about fifteen
minutes." 
Carol turned and walked to their bathroom.

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