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Subject: Twighlight Zone 4 by Seurat: Art Critic 6/8
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If you haven't seen 1a, well, too bad.



Wednesday, June 19th

     After Dinner watching the news, my wife left the house excited. 
Nobody had won the big
Super Seven in a few weeks, and the jackpot was close to sixteen million. 
Like we were going to
win.  At the moment I didn't really care if we did win.  I was on short
time as a plaything for Tara
and her friends, and I was filled with mixed emotions.  While the
experiences I was having were
exilerating to say the least, the feeling that I was betraying my wife was
making me a wreck.  Our
relationship was founded on love, not sex, and while I still loved her I
could feel myself being
drawn into this world of bizarre sex.  Part of me wanted the experience
and the guilt to end, but
part of me (mostly the part between my legs) wanted the kinky sex to go on
and on and on.
     This weeks package was on the pillows of our master bed.  White
satiny wrapping paper
and a big red silk bow.  At first I thought it had been left by my wife,
but then I opened it.  Inside
was a wide black leather belt with silver studs and four buckling straps
in the back.  A two inch
strap ran from the back to the front, with what I presumed to be a ball
harness midway and
another harness for my cock which would lie flat against my stomach. 
There were also four sets
of studded black leather cuffs, a matching collar, and a half-hood which
would cover the upper
half of my face.  I had a pretty good idea which of the women I would be
serving tonight.
     I searched through the box, but found nothing but a slip of paper
with an address and a
time written on it.  It was a place in the industrial district, where the
remants of the old steel
factories used to be.
     I stripped naked, then picked up the harness and stepped into it. 
When I got it almost all
the way up, I pulled my semi-erect prick and balls through the hole in the
crotch strap, then pulled
it on the rest of the way.  It was snug to start out with, but getting the
buckling straps to their first
hole made it downright tight.  I affixed the attached ball stretcher,
which then made my balls ache,
and attached the crotch strap to the belt.  With a little help I got my
dick fully erect, and began
buckling it in place, the first strap at the base, the second strap
midway, and the last under the
glans.  They were too tight, and wouldn't let my erection wane anytime
soon.  The cuffs and the
collar were tight, but not restrictive.  When I got the hood on and looked
at myself in the mirror, I
thought I could have played the torturer in a dungeon in one of those old
movies they show on
the classics channel.
     I pulled on a pair of sweats, a t-shirt, and an old pair of sneakers
and went out to the car. 
I could no longer feel ashamed or humiliated at what I was doing.

     The parking lot outside the warehouse looking building was filled
with jags and beemers,
and I felt really out of place.  The harness made me feel acutely aware of
my genitals; the
stretching and strapping made them very sensitive.  I found a space,
parked, and headed for
the only door I could see.  It was huge and made of metal, probably left
over from the days when
the Steel was here.  A buzzer was on one side, and I pressed it.  A small
window opened in the
door, but I could see nobody behind it.
     "I was told to report here."
     A deep male voice replied, "Impossible.  We have a dress code."  The
window slid shut.
     I pulled off the t-shirt, then the sneakers and, looking around and
seeing nobody, the
sweats.  I rolled them all into a bundble and stuffed it into some nearby
bushes.  I pressed the
buzzer again, then dropped my hands in a vain attempt to cover my
genitals.  The window slid
open again.
     "Is this better?"
     The door creaked open, revealing a long corridor lit by a few
overhead bulbs.  The figure
behind the window was not to be seen.  I entered, feeling like I was
walking to a gallows.  I heard
the door shut behind me, but at this point there was no looking back.  The
sound of music came
from down the hall.
     It eventually led to another door, this one painted with a fancy logo
which read, æThe
Twighlight Cafe'.  A heavy industrial bass beat shook the ground and the
walls, and when I
opened the door, it made me take a step back.
     Before me was a huge dance club, but not the type I had ever seen
before.  Most of the
men there were dressed as I was; in fact, their harnesses were identical,
and all were barefoot. 
The women dressed in a variety of sexy clothing, about half of which was
made of red latex, with
leather being the second preference.  It was very surrealistic; the men
were obviously servants of
some sort, and the women were built like busty aerobics instructors. 
There didn't seem to be a
whole lot of body fat anywhere.  I felt very out of place, but the hood
hid my identity, and I could
blend with this crowd.  I went in and tried to figure out who I was
supposed to be with
tonight.
     I didn't have long to work on it, because she found me.  I remembered
her from my night
as an art object.  She was dressed head to toe in studded black leather;
thigh high spike heeled
boots, skirt, bustier, elbow lenght gloves, and a mask, all in the same
metal adorned leather.  Long
curly blonde hair reached her waist.  I felt my cock strain against it's
bonds, and again tried to
cover it.
     "Hands at your side, Alan.  I want to see all of you."  I complied,
blushing a bright red.
     "Not bad.  You could almost pass as a personal servant, if you could
control that blushing
of yours.  But there is something missing."  She held out her hand, which
contained two more
studs, just like those on the leather.  Only these were stud earrings.
     "My ears aren't pierced."
     She seemed contemplative for a moment, then spoke,"Follow me."  She
walked past a bar
to a door I hadn't noticed.  I realized I wasn't noticing much about the
club with her walking in
front of me like that, the heels making her hips sway just so.  A little
constriction pain reminded
me of the harness. 
     We ended up in a little lounge area with a couple of people in it. 
She retrieved a strange
looking gun-like device from a cabinet and put one of the studs in the
tip, which she put to my ear
lobe.  I felt a sharp pain as the needle was driven through, but it went
numb after a few seconds. 
The second one was worse, because I knew it was coming.  Nobody in the
room seemed to care,
or even notice.
     "From this point on you will refer to me as Mistress Dana.  If I give
you a command, you
will follow it.  You will reply to any staement I make to you with æyes,
Mistress Dana' or æNo,
Mistress Dana' or any other appropriate reply.  You will follow two steps
back, and to my left. 
Do you understand?"
     "Yes, Mistress Dana."  My head swam.  It felt like I was drunk or
stoned.  I could hear my
voice speaking, but it seemed detached.  The effect lasted a only a
minute, though.
     "Slave, on your knees."  I dropped before I could even think about
it.  Something was
wrong with me.  She walked over to an overstuffed leather chair, and I
followed on hands and
knees, two steps back and to her left.  She turned, hiked up her skirt,
and sat down.  She wore no
underwear and revealed a well trimmed pussy.  "Lick my pussy."
     My body moved of it's own volition; my mouth opened and my tongue
began lapping at
her clit.  I didn't want to do this, but couldn't force my body to stop. 
I was trapped in a body that
was no longer obeying my commands.
     "Not like that, you ass.  Be gentle, explore, lick here and here. 
Extend your tongue into
my pussy."  She began to give directions on placement and technique; how
hard or soft; how fast
or slow, where and when.  My mind retracted into itself.  I could hear her
voice, but it was no
more than background noise.  After a few minutes her back arched as an
orgasm shook through
her body.
     "See, Slave?  It's easier if you don't resist.  It's amazing what
those earrings can do."
Earrings?  Of course!  There must have been something in the earrings, and
it was having this
effect on me.  My body kept lapping away, trying to bring Mistress Dana to
another orgasm.
     "If you concentrate on what you're doing, you'll enjoy it a lot
more."  I focused my mind
on eating her pussy, and found I was becoming one with my body again.  It
still moved of it's own
volition, though.  Mistress Dana had a second orgasm, then a third.
     "Much better, slave.  I think you need more practice, though."
     "Thank you, Mistress Dana."
     At a motion from her hand, three women dressed in red latex
mini-dresses sat on the
couch.  Each looked like a model, with slim waists, firm chests, and
incredible legs and asses.
"Eat them until they orgasm."  My body crawled over to the first, and as
she lifted the hem of her
dress I stuck my head in and began licking and nibbling away.  She made a
few comments to
Mistress Dana, who corrected me, and reached orgasm in a few minutes.  The
second was even
quicker, and the third had me build her up to just short of cumming and
then had me keep her
there for nearly fifteen minutes before taking her over the edge.  My
tongue and jaw ached, but I
was happy because I had just brought four women to orgasm orally in under
an hour whereas I
had never been able to do it before in my life.  I thanked Mistress Dana.
     "Clean up, slave.  We have work to do."  I took a proferred towel,
wiped off, then
followed Mistress Dana back into the club proper.  I discovered that if I
wanted, I could
disassociate my mind from my body at will, sort of like reading while
watching a movie.  Mistress
Dana could give me commands which I would follow without question and
without me really
paying attention.

     I found myself on the dance floor, opposite Mistress Dana and some
other attractive
women.  They began to show me how to dance, how to move to music, how to
not touch a
women and yet be focused on her, how to let go on a dance floor.  Each of
the women would
make suggestions or corrections, and my body would remember them.  They
showed me how to
slow dance and fast dance, and, once they realized how quickly I was
learning, how to line dance
and follow anothers steps in order to learn a new dance.  I hoped I would
remember all this.
     I looked around us and spotted some familiar people.  The majority of
the women there
were in red latex outfits.  A minority were in black, usually leather.  A
few, however, were
dressed in striking colors.  One dressed in purple looked like my horse
trainer.  Another in green
and yellow made my feet itch.  There were at least a half dozen others. 
It was then that I realized
what was happening.  I was dressed in a leather harness, my strapped down
erection obvious to
all.  I was surrounded by sexy women and guys that were their slaves.  I
stopped dead in my
tracks and felt the heat of my embarassment rise from my skin.  Mistress
Dana noticed, too.
     "What happened to me?"
     She looked resigned.  "Don't you mean, 'What happened to me, Mistress
Dana'?"
     "Um, what happened to me, Mistress Dana?"
     "I gave you a drug to facilitate your learning.  It must have worn
off.  Don't worry, it has
no negative side effects.  It's just that I had only limited time.  Come
with me."  She walked off,
and I fell in step, two paces behind and to her left.
     "Very good.  A good slave knows and remembers his place.  Now get in
here."  She
motioned to a black curtain at the side of the dance floor.  I got in and
she pulled the curtain shut,
leaving me in darkness.  I was in an area about five feet in diameter, in
pitch black.  I heard her
voice over the muffled music.
     "One last service, slave.  Dance as you would if you were a stripper
seducing crowds of
women who wanted your cock.  Be a tease.  Don't stop until I tell you." 
My body began
swaying, thrusting, and gyrating like I had seen strippers do it in
movies.  My hands caressed my
chest, my aching balls, my swollen prick.  I felt the floor move under me,
but I couldn't stop
dancing.  The curtain rose up, revealing to me that I was in a large
stainless steel cage, thirty feet
above the dance floor.  All around the club were other men in similar
cages, all doing similar
dances.  My mind was flooded with music, and all I could think of was my dance.
     I don't know how long it was before it stopped.  The cages were
lowered to the floor, and
Mistress Dana let me out.  "Very good, slave.  You may stop."  My body
dropped from
exhaustion.  "So good, in fact, that I was able to sell your services for
another night.  I hope you
don't mind."  I looked at her, dumbfounded.
     "Well, only one thing more.  You've been very good tonight, and we
like to reward all
slaves.  Follow me."  Again she motioned, and again I followed behind. 
She led me to an alcove
off the main club floor.  A figure squatted inside, and I could see that
it wore a stainless steel
chastity belt which made it look sexless, and a matching stainless steel
hood which left only the
bottom of the nose and the mouth exposed.  I couldn't tell if it was male
or female; budding
breasts and lips in bright red lipstick would lead me to believe the
latter, but the broadness of the
shoulders and the size of the hands I thought it could be male.  It had no
body hair that I could
see.
     "Slave, this is the servitor.  The servitor provides relief for
slaves and personal servants. 
The servitor is only here to please.  Would you prefer anal or oral
gratifacation?"
     I didn't like the idea of forcing sex on anybody, especially not one
like this.  "I don't
require any relief, Mistress Dana."  It wasn't true.  I ached like I had
never cum in my whole life.
     "That doesn't matter.  The servitor is here to provide relief, and I
will have the servitor
perform that function regardless of your wants.  Besides, I don't think
it's been fed tonight, and it
only eats cum."  She reached down and grabbed my balls, and undid the
straps which held my
cock.  It sprung forth with a rush of blood, and my knees went weak.  I
made a mental note
to have my blood pressure checked because of the way my knees buckled
whenever I was with
these weird women.  Mistress Dana pulled me forward, placing my cock in
the servitors mouth.
     The stainless steel head bobbed forward, taking my shaft down to the
root, then began
swirling it's tongue and sucking as if nothing else in the world mattered.
 I came in less than a
minute, and shot what I felt was a months worth of cum down the willing
throat.  When I finally
pulled out my semi-erect prick, it was licked clean.  The servitor seemed
to be searching around,
looking for more.
     Mistress Dana stretched out my cock, and strapped it back in place. 
"If a Mistress ever
gives you an order, you will follow it immediately, no matter how
repulsive.  Understand?"
     "Yes, Mistress Dana."  She led me back to the entrance. I felt her
hand replace the large
stud earrings with small, gold and diamond ones.   "Now get out of here. 
You did well; if I ever
have to train you again, I'll do it with a whip and rack."  I had no doubt
I would rather not
experience that.  I walked down the corridor to the steel door.  This
night was different; I realized
I had been brought here to learn, not to be experimented on.  Looking
back, I discovered most of
my nights were learning experiences.  
     The door swung open as I approached; once I passed through, it
slammed shut behind me. 
I went over to the bushes only to find my clothes gone.  My wallet, now
empy of it's cash, lay a
few feet away.  I was glad that I had left the car keys in a hide-a-key in
the bumper.

     My car's vinyl seat was cold against my bare ass.  I tossed my wallet
on the other seat, and
started her up.  I was late, and would have to make up some time.
     My tires spun as I pulled out of the parking lot, and I sped down the
road.  I knew some
back roads that would get me home quicker, as long as there were no cops
out.  Of course, as
soon as I thought that, I saw the lights flashing behind me.  There was no
way I could out run
them.

     I heard the footsteps come up alongside my car, a flashlight
examining first the back seat,
then the front.  It stopped on my leather harness.
     "Something wrong, officer?" I said through my open window.  The light
moved up and
blinded me.
     A female voice spoke.  "Get out of the car, pervert."
     I unlocked the door and opened it.  "Officer, you see..."
     She cut off my feeble explanation by pulling me out of the car and
slamming me into the
side.  "Yeah, I see plenty.  If you want to be a fucking pervert, you do
it on your own time in your
own house, not speeding through the streets."
     "I'm sorry officer, but my clothes were stolen at a party.  I'm stuck
wearing this."
     "A pervert party, eh?"
     "No ma'am.  I was at a place called the Twighlight Cafe.  I had to
wear this to get in, and
when I came out, my clothes were gone."
     "Bunch of sick fuckers, if you ask me.  What were you doing there,
anyway?"
     "I...I was learning to dance."
     "Dance?"  I could here the laughter in her voice.  "You can dance
anywhere in this city. 
You don't need to wear that thing."
     "I was playing a part.  Acting.  I learned a few other things, too."
     "What are you, a male stripper or something?"
     I thought about the dancing in the cage.  "Yeah, I guess.  But I'm
still learning."
     "Well then, Mr. Pervert, show me this dance you learned.  If you
convince me it was
worthwhile, I'll let you go.  Otherwise you get to see how many friends
that outfit will make you
when I put you in the city lockup."
     I flushed a bright red, but resigned myself.  "Can I have some music?"
     "Sure."  There was still laughter in her voice.
     I reached in and turned up the radio, then followed her back to the
front of her car.  She
sat, leaning against the hood between the headlights.  They way she was
positioned, I was blinded
whenever I looked at her.  I began to dance seductively, as I was taught,
my body taking over for
my mind.  My eyes closed, and I tried to lose myself in the dance.
     The song ended, and she spoke again.  "Very nice.  What else did you
learn?"
     "It's sort of difficult to tell."
     "Do you want your picture in the morning paper?"
     "No."
     "Fess up."
     "I..."  I couldn't say this to a cop, let alone a female cop, but it
was pretty obvious what
my choices were.  "I learned how to perform oral sex on a woman."
     "Oh, really?"
     "Yes ma'am."
     "Then let's see if you can do that as well as you can dance.  Eat me."
     I heard her undo her belt and unzip her pants.  Again, my body seemed
to know what to
do better than my mind.  I walked over to her and dropped to my knees. 
She spread her legs
wide, and I could feel that her panties were already wet.  I moved in
agressively, pulling the
panties aside and driving her to a quick orgasm as I had done to the one
woman on the couch. 
     The cop leaned back on the hood, moaning, her hips thrusting in the
air, grinding into my
face.  The second orgasm I drew out until she finally cried out for
release, then grabbed my head
in both hands and forced it deep into her crotch.  I don't think she was
disappointed.
     She finally let me up.  "Get out of that thing."  She got dressed.
     "But...What'll I wear?"
     "You can tell people you were robbed of your clothes.  Tell them the
story you told me
and they'll never believe it while you're wearing that.  I'll get you a
blanket."
     I undid the harness, took off the cuffs and the hood, and caught the
blanket that she threw at
me.  "I'll take that, as evidence."
     I walked back to my car and got in.  The officer followed me home and
was nice enough to
explain to my wife that I'd been mugged and just needed a good night's rest.


Thursday, June 20th

     The next morning I went out for the newspaper, and sat on the stoop
while I read it.  It
was sunny and the warmth felt good.  We hadn't won the lottery, again.  My
favorite quarterback
was retiring and his team had a first round draft, so I had something to
look forward to.  I had just
turned to the comics when I saw it out of the corner of my eye.  Under a
bush, just to the side of
the door.  A box wrapped in a bright red bow.  I dropped the paper and
reached for it.  Inside was
the harness, the cuffs, and the hood.  There was also two video tapes, the
first entitled, æSlave to
Pussy: One man's story' and the other 'Erotic tales of the Highway Patrol'.
 

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