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From: "Seurat" <seurat7@enter.net>
Subject: {ASSM} RP Seurat's Twighlight Zone Chapter 4(d):Art Critic (femdom, bondage, spanking, public mast)
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 Sorry about the delay; see part (a) for what's going on.






    
     I don't know how long I spun, but when I opened my eyes there 
was a different scene in the room.  The lights were up, and I could 
see know that the room had more occupants than before.  They were 
across the room looking at other sculptures.  I noticed that 
depending on how I rotated the spheres, The wiring would cross and 
I could hear what was being said.  Or Tara was giving me the feeling 
that I was doing it.  More likely, she was doing it on purpose.
     "...sisters to this years art show..."
     "...paintings and sculptures for bid..."
     "...for preparation..."  They were moving closer to me.
     "...erotic satisfaction..."  There were about two dozen of them, 
dressed in costumes and all wearing masks of some sort.  As they 
approached, I felt the spheres slowing again, and I pressed the 
buttons to keep it going.  Only this time, I kept slowing down.  
Before they arrived, I got a good look at them.  Seven were dressed 
in colored leather outfits; Tara in her white (only now she had on 
cowboy boots), one each in red, purple, and blue, one in green with 
yellow diamonds, another in black, and the last in zebra stripes.  
Each wore a veiled mask fitted to a hood which covered their face, 
their hair pulled through a hole in the top of the hood pony style.  
Around them were at least a dozen women dressed in black leather 
bras and panties, with matching hoods. Only their hoods were full 
face, and wouldn't allow speach.  All were in stockings and heels 
of some sort.  They were fantasies from one of my wet dreams. 
     The music kicked off just before they reached me.  "This 
gentleman will be providing service for the next few weeks.  As 
you can see, he has been prepared as stated in the program.  You 
can also see that he is quite capable of a hearty erection, and," 
the sphere rack stopped completely, and the vibrator rose into my 
ass, try as I might to keep it out, and stimulated my prostrate to 
a quick orgasm,"he can culminate his actions too."  One of the full 
hooded women ran forward and caught the ejaculte in a clear cup while 
they all had a laugh at the joke.  When I was finshed and the 
dizziness stopped, I got a better look at them.
     Tara stood next to the device, and retracted the vibrator from 
my ass.  She was stunning in her white outfit, with her long black 
hair cascading from the top of the hood.  There must have been a 
lot of fake hair in there, because I knew her hair wasn't that 
long - it almost reached her waist.
     Second was one completely dressed in red; long curly brown hair 
framed the hooded and veiled face.  She was nicely built, and her 
outfit was cut to show off cleavage.  She stood in front of me in 
her high heels, and looked me up and down.  I had the feeling that 
she was smiling, when she turned and walked away.
     Third was dressed in a purple leather bodysuit, complete with 
purple high heeled boots.  A thick brown braid trailed from her hood 
to her waist, laced at the bottom with purple leather straps.  She 
was tall and stocky, like a basketball player, and probably stood 
six and a half feet in her heels.
     The next was dressed in a blue silk shirt and a matching leather 
skirt, with a long blue leather overcoat.  Her topknot was made of 
long, straight black hair which reached midway down her back.  Her 
body was more petite than the others, but was no less impressive.
     In contrast to the solid colors I had seen so far, the next one 
was dressed in a combination of green leather and green and yellow 
diamond silk.  The diamonds were large, and tickled some memory in 
my head, but I couldn't place it.  Her costume was a snug bodysuit 
of green silk, with green leather corset and calf high boots.  The 
hood was also diamond covered, and actually had two holes through 
which the red hair was pulled through.  Both were on top, but one 
each on either side of the centerline, giving her a twin ponytail 
look.
     Next to last was the poster girl for Dominatrix Inc.  
Strategically placed sections of Spiked black leather covered 
what they had to while exposing much more.  She wore spiked 
black leather gloves with a matching collar, and her blonde 
hair spilled from a hood that was aslo covered in studs.  The 
boots were spike heeled,  and rose almost all the way to her 
hips. 
     Last of the seven was dressed in zebra stripes, from the 
thigh high spike heeled boots to the short skirt, corset, and 
half cup bra, to the short jacket and hood.  Dirty blonde hair 
cascaded down her back.  This last one was bustier than the 
others, and when she stopped in front of me, she grabbed hold 
of my cock roughly and gave it a twist.  I yelped into the ball 
gag in pain, and she let out a low laugh, turned and walked away.   
     Once all of the main watchers were past, the group of 
women in full hoods surrounded me.  Each wore a black leather 
bra and panties, and knee high black leather boots.  Around 
each wrist was a thick leather bracelet, and around each neck 
was a studded collar.  On their left butt cheek was a gold 
beta-alpha-delta.  All were nearly identical dressed; the only 
differences were their hair topknots.  They all stared at me, 
and if I thought I was hard before, then I was a rock now.
     Tara spoke again.  "See, girls, how your dress affects 
the normal male?  The correct use of clothing can excite a man 
without any other stimuli.  This one evidently has a passion 
for leather and heels.  Most men do."  As they turned and 
walked away, Tara grabbed my erect cock.  "Gotta go, big boy.  
Be back soon."  She adjusted something on the rack, and walked 
away.  Again, the heavy sounds of Trent Reznor filled my ears.  
The vibrator buzzed and again pushed at my anus.  I started 
pushing buttons, and the spheres began there rotation once 
again.  I closed my eyes in an attempt to stop the dizziness 
this caused, and lost track of time.

     Next thing I knew I was being disconnected from the sphere.  
My body ached, and my mind swam with dizziness and a self-induced 
trance I had entered to keep from being sick.  Tara undid the 
ball gag, and I flexed my jaw to see if the muscles still worked.  
While she unhooked the rest of the bars, I looked around at the 
now dark hall.  Most of the sculptures were gone or disassembled, 
and I wondered if they had also held occupants during the show.  
I hadn't been in much of a position to notice at the time.
     "Mind telling me what went on here tonight?  I mean, this was 
no one night stand with a little kinky sex thrown in.  This was 
full blown crazy.  Who were all these people?  And what is all this 
leather crap, with the women and the heels and shit?"  The more I 
talked, the more worked up I was getting, and I decided to quit 
before I lost my temper.
     "Alan, Beta Alpha Delta, the Femina Sorority, is a semi-secret 
society designed to propogate the female agenda.  It inducts college 
age females into an intense training program where they learn to 
dominate and control both men and weaker females.  We originally 
did it through the use of sexual tension, and that is still the 
most fun and the easiest, but we have developed other ways.  Tonight 
was part of the pledge program, and the women you saw were sisters 
and pledges.  There was another group that you didn't see, but 
they did get a quick look at you.  They will be involved in the 
training sessions for the next few weeks."  She finished packing 
the tubes and motioned for me to pick up the box.  We headed for 
the elevator.
     "What was the art show for?  And the hoods?  And where do I 
fit in?"  Questions started to flood my mind, and I could hardly 
spit them out fast enough.  We got into the elevator.
     "You were suggested as a likely candidate for the training 
sessions, and after you were checked out it was decided you would 
help out this fall.  The hoods and veils were for the protection 
of our sisters.  If it ever became public knowledge who was in 
our society, they would be pubicly shunned and the whole thing 
would be undermined.  The art show was to show you and a few other 
subjects to the sisters and the pledges."  The door opened and we 
got out into the basement.
     "You know, Alan, you are taking this entire thing very well.  
Most of the men we do this to would have cracked or lashed out by 
now.  Are you okay?"
     I put down the box and turned to face her.  "When this whole 
thing started last week, I didn't know what to think, or what to 
believe.  It all seems so far-fetched.  Women in leather, secret 
societies, the whole thing.  But I was pretty sure you weren't 
going to hurt me, and at the moment you've got me by the short 
hairs.  I touched the controller after the suit was set, and got 
the pain again.  I won't be doing that again."
     Like a snake her left hand grabbed my right wrist, her right 
hand grabbed my prick, and she swept me to the ground in a judo 
take down.  Before I could move, she was straddling me.
     "If I do hurt you, it's for you're own good.  Over the next 
few weeks you'll learn a lot, and it's best if you do what you 
are told.  Understand?"  I nodded.  "Good.  Then let's get down 
to business.  I'm going to ask you a few questions, and you will 
answer, out loud, in a complete sentence and in the affirmative.  
Understand?"  I nodded again.  Her hand came across my face in a 
loud slap that sounded worse than it was, but still stung.  
"Undertand?"
     "Yes, I understand.  I will answer all questions affirmatively 
and in full sentences."
     She grabbed my prick again, and started guiding it up her 
skirt.  It became readily apparent she wasn't wearing any 
underwear, as I slid easily into her cunt, pushing up the skirt 
as I did.
     "Alan, honey, you won't cum until I tell you, will you?"
     "I won't cum until you tell me."  She began a slow up and 
down motion with her hips.
     "Do I feel good to you?"
     "Yes, you feel very good to me."  She began to pump faster, 
ocassionally grinding down onto my pelvis.
     "If I asked you to dress up in kinky costumes, would you?"  
Faster, harder.
     "Yes, I would wear kinky costumes if asked."  I could feel 
orgasm building again.
     "Would you let me change you body, so that you would be more
sexually appealing?"  Her muscles began clenching around my 
prick, drawing the cum upwards.  I was starting to go numb, as 
I do before a really mind-blowing orgasm.
     "I would let...let you change my body...to be...be more 
sexually appealing."
     "If I told you I would teach you to satisy and be satisfied, 
bring out your animalistic natures, send you to hell and back, 
would you agree to it?"  I was starting to lose conciuosness, 
and almost ready to explode.
     "YES.  I want you to teach me.  Teach me to satisy and be 
satisfied.  Make me an animal.  Send me to hell and back.  OH. 
UNH."  She twisted off me, leaving me just short of orgasm.  
Her fingers wrapped around my shaft and quickly finished the 
job, shooting my load into a small cup.  I wondered if she was 
saving it for a midnight drink.
     "You didn't wait until I told you to cum.  Just for that, 
I don't want you to engage in any sexual activity in which you 
cum until I am finished with you.  I am setting your reminder 
ring here to give you a level seven shock if you orgasm without 
my permission.  You have to learn control.  I'll decide your 
further punishment at a later time.  But first I think we 
should get you out of that suit and get you home.  Your wife 
will be expecting you."  

     I pulled into my driveway and turned off the car, and 
sat there for a minute, wondering what punishment I would be 
subjected to, and when.  Tara had gotten me out of the outfit 
and dressed in my sweats without saying another word to me.  
The first night was over, with six more to endure.  I didn't 
know if I could do it.  
     I got out of my car and walked to the dark house.  I must 
have beat my wife home.  I let myself in and headed upstairs 
to shower off .  I got into out bedroom to strip off my sweats 
when I saw it.  On top of the television in out bedroom was a 
ball gag harness and a video tape in a white box.  In block 
lettering read the title, "The Art Critic and the Art".  I 
picked up the items and locked them in the chest drawer.  I 
was pretty sure I knew what was on the tape.  
     
               
Wednesday, May 22nd  

     I sat in the front seat of my car dressed in the thin 
white pants and t-shirt, white sneakers on my feet.  I was 
parked by a woman's health club, waiting for my time to come 
up.  When it did, I walked into the place, and was greeted by 
the receptionist.  She was an attractive redhead, dressed in 
workout clothes.
     "Yes, sir?"
     "I'm here to see Gloria."  Just say what the note told 
you, no improvising.
     "Just down that way, second door on your left."  She 
pointed.
     "Thank you."  I walked down the hall, passing rooms full 
of attractive, sweaty women, jumping and gyrating.  I didn't 
get an erection; I couldn't.  My cock was encased in a tube 
filled with tiny pointed nibs.  Every time I even started to 
get erect, the pain was incredible.  It was called a Khali's 
ring, or some variation of it.  I wasn't too fond of it at 
all.
     I found the door and knocked.  A soft, feminine voice 
told me to enter.  Upon entering I was greeted by the beautiful 
owner of the voice.  She looked oriental; an athletic body 
with well proportioned and firm breasts was wrapped in a modest 
dress of blue satin.  Long, straight black hair hung in a 
ponytail.  Her face was pretty and serene.  A light perfume 
hung in the air.
     "You are Alan?  Good.  You are wearing the device?  
Better.  If you are good, I will remove it when we are done.  
Follow me."  She turned and walked into another room.  She was 
so overwhelming that I couldn't even speak.
     The room contained three tables covered with towels.  On 
each table lay a naked and beautiful woman.  Sexy doesn't come 
close to describing them.  The workouts to keep bodies in that 
shape must take all day.  Pain in my genitals as my erection 
was quelled brought me back to reality quickly.
     "I will show you the techniques once.  If I have to show 
you a second time, I will be displeased.  Do you understand?  
Good."  She had yet to wait for a response from me.
     She got a robe and put it on over her dress.  A small 
bottle taken from her pocket drizzled oil over the chest of 
the first woman.  "You will give each of these women a massage.  
If they find it acceptable, you will be permitted to leave.  
Begin, here."
     I moved over and began rubbing and massaging the first 
woman's breasts.  I heard a loud THWACK a second before the 
pain shot through my thighs.  Gloria had hit me with a split 
bamboo cane.
     "Not like that, you idiot.  Move your thumbs like this, 
you fingers like this.  You're giving her a massage, not 
feeling her up."
     That's the way my evening went.  I would begin to massage, 
she would hit me, then correct my technique.  I started to 
sweat profusely because I never knew where the next blow would 
land.  My thighs and calves ached; my arms stung, my fingers 
were going numb.  After the second blow I didn't worry about 
pain in my genitals.  I was so worked up about getting hit 
that the thought of these women as sex objects didn't cross 
my mind again.  Not to say the the women didn't try, twisting 
this way and that, spreading their legs to give me a show, 
pursing or licking their lips.  I became an automation, there 
just to give massages.  Not that that stopped them; they upped 
the ante, running their fingers up my thighs, caressing my ass, 
massaging my balls.  As the evening wore on, they started 
doublbe-teaming me, and by the time I reached the third woman, 
the first two were rubbing their oil covered bodies all over 
my legs or sticking their tongues in my ears, or any of a 
multitude of other things.  I found that by totally concentrating 
on giving a massage, I could block out almost all thoughts of 
sex.  Any thoughts that did make it to my libido were bitten 
back by the Khali's teeth.
     After nearly two hours, all three women agreed that I was 
a passable masseur.  I had learned 


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