Message-ID: <12144eli$9806132106@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/12144.txt> From: "Seurat" <seurat7@enter.net> Subject: {ASSM} rp Seurat's Twighlight Zone chapter 4(i): Art Critic (Femdom, wife, tg, etc.) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Original-Message-ID: <01bd96e6$35f90a80$2810aacc@default> enjoy the show." Music started, and the first of the models came down the runway. She was dressed in a red satin waist cincher trimmed in white fur. I leaned over to Jackie. "Doesn't seem too special." She whispered back, "Realize that most of these outfits are made of fabric which is made to heighten the sense of touch; that cincher is probably groping the model. Here, look in this." She handed me a catalog, open to a picture of a different model in the same cincher. The description told of a heat control device, self contained batteries, and some other accessories. These were clothes to torture and tease, not just exhibit. The next model was a male in a chastity harness, crawling on his hands and knees. The description told of a butt plug and a device called Khali's teeth which kept down the erections. When he reached the end of the runway, I noticed he was wearing earrings like those put on me during one of my nights out. On closer inspection, I noticed his eyes had a glazed over look. "Hey!" I turned to Jackie, "they drugged him!" "Some of the models are drugged, yes. Some are real models, and they make a good dollar. But most of the people that you see up there tonight are being trained, and some of that training requires the use of drugs. Usually, those that have entered the program unwillingly are under the influence; it makes the training easier." I thought of my experience last week, nodded my understanding. "There are others that have no idea what is going on, though. Occasionally, we pick out people we've met and have them model. They don't remember anything the next day except that they had fun the night before. You can tell them because they were hoods or masks to protect their identity. We may rework some people's lives, but we're not out to wreck innocent's futures. Here comes one now." The figure on the path was dressed in a business suit. Black leather gloves, ballet boots, and a full hood drew my eyes awy from it, tough. When she reached the midpoint of the runway, she stripped off the skirt, jacket, and blouse, revealing a black leather bustier and matching shorts. A black latex phallus protruded from her front, springing up when she dropped the skirt.. Fishnet stockings covered her legs down to where they met the top of her ballet boots. She faltered as she walked down the runway, stopping every few steps. Something in my mind clicked; a feeling of deja vu swept over me but I didn't know why. I flipped through the book until I found the item. According to it's desription, the model by now would be hyper-stimulated from the butt plug, dildo, and clit massager. Hidden clamps were squeezing and drawing on her nipples. No wonder she was having a hard time walking. "This is one of my creations. Do you like?" "She's very attactive, and it looks like she's enjoying it. I don't think it's for me, though." "You could get one for your wife." "First, I don't think I could afford it. Second, my wife isn't into that kind of thing." "Consider it a gift. And I'm sure she's into that kind of thing." Jackie giggled. "That's her in it right now!" My eyes went wide - the body shape was right, the business suit! It was the one she left the house in! I thought I could see my wife's glazed over eyes inside the hood. They'd drugged her! "You bitch! What did you do to her?" Heads turned around us. I felt myself being picked up and carried out of the room. Jackie followed behind, as my wife completed her runway walk. The two guards set me down outside the room, but neither let go. "This wasn't part of the deal. She's not part of this. Let her go!" "On the contrary, Alan, she is part of this. This is your punishment for the time you didn't follow Tara's command. Remember?" My mind flipped back to when I had cum without Tara's permission. "No. This is too much. I want it stopped, now!" "It's too late, Alan. She's already being fitted for her second outfit. I hear it's a real hum-zinger. Or should I say, a cum-drinker?" She pulled out a remote and tapped a button. Pain wrapped by balls, and I dropped to the floor. She motioned to the guards, who cuffed me and pulled a hood over my head. I knew better than to resist as they forced the gag into my mouth and buckled the hood tight. A chain hobble kept me from running or kicking. As a final gesture, Jackie unzipped my pants and pulled out my erect cock. She attached a leash around the base, and then proceded to drag me back into the ballroom. The figure of my wife sat in a desk chair at the end of the runway, dressed again in her business suit, the hood being the only element out of place time. Six female figures, nude except for strap-on dildo harnessess, filed down either side of the aisle and stood behind her. The first walked around and pointed to the floor. My wife got up, turned, and knelt before her as she sat in the chair. I flipped open the catalog with my cuffed hands. Cocksucker trainer, for the slave that needs a little encouragement. Bulbs in the dildo's ball sack contain up to four ounces of any liquid; just squeeze them to simulate ejaculation. Double-sided dildo trainer, filled with sensi-gel, designed to stimulate nerve endings on both ends. I looked up to see the figure sucking away at the phallus. Another of the women had mounted her from behind. I could feel tears well up in my eyes. "Tara's trading her orgasms for your's. It was supposed to be you up there, but you were to be punished." I could feel the anger rise even higher in me. "Besides, if she wasn't here, she couldn't do this." Jackie made a motion with her hand, and the figures seperated on the stage. The one I thought was my wife came down the stairs, followed by the six other models, and started rubbing men's crotches. She would rub each for a minute or so, and then shake her head and move on. A few she pulled to their feet, then pulled down their pants, exposing huge erections. Each one of these received a blow job from one of the other women from the stage. Finally she got to me. She pulled me to my feet, then knelt in front of me. Her mouth encased my entire cock while her hands fondled my balls. She kept sucking and licking, licking and sucking, and I felt my orgasm rise. "Tara didn't say you could come." I heard the BEEP from Jackie's remote, and my prick went numb. Try as she might, the figure in front of me couldn't bring me to orgasm. After five minutes of trying, Jackie motioned her back onto the stage. She walked away, followed by the six other models. Applause followed them, the loudest clappers being those that had been on the receiving end of the blowjobs. Jackie made another motion, this time to somebody by the entrance. "Take him home." My driver came in and lead me away to the limo. After she got me seated, Jackie stuck her head in. "Drive him around until midnight, then make him strip and take him home." I mentally vowed revenge. It was as if she could read my mind. "Try any funny business, and I'll shock that dick right off your body. And I won't say what we'll do to your wife. She still has a few more outfits to try on." At midnight the driver stripped me of the tux and released me from the suit, using a remote to remind me of the device around the base of my genitals which would cause me pain. I was left naked in my own front yard. Nearly two hours of constant stimulation and no release had left me weak. I had other things on my mind, though. I fumbled with the front door lock, using a spare we leave hidden outside. Once inside I ran upstairs, to find my wife curled up in bed, sound asleep. It was if nothing had happened. Friday, June 28th Talks with my wife led me to believe she may not have been at the Twighlight Zone; she had spent the evening with a woman named Tara Worthington, yes, but they had been at her company's club most of the evening discussing business. Ms. Worthington wanted someplace private where they wouldn't be disturbed. It had been odd, because while they were there she had seen another women in a suit almost exactly like hers! The talk had gone well; Tara got a phone call late in the evening that made her happy; one of her partners had concluded some unfinished business of hers. She was so happy that she signed a big contract with my wife right there. It left me wondering about the whole thing. Had they really done things to my wife, or was it just a double designed to torture me? I could find witnessess, okay, but what if the whole thing was a conspiracy? I didn't know if I would ever know the truth. Tara's punishment seemed extreme. I was a nervous wreck over the prospect of what might have happened to my wife. Saturday, June 29th I found the box while I was doing yard work. Inside was the black leather outfit; boots, shorts, bustier, gloves, stockings, even the hood. It was accompanied by a tape entitled, 'Model Cum-Suckers' and a copy of the catalog. I ran inside and put the tape in the VCR, hit play and fast forward. Scenes flashed by, me in the limo, the store, the runway. The figure on the runway I thought was my wife in leather, the fellatio scene. More followed; she wore different costumes and performed different sex acts as a man and a woman, with a man or men, or women. She was in about every third display. At the end they took off her hood, only to cover her face with a black dot and a giant white question mark. The tape clicked off. "What's this?" My wife stood behind me, holding the dildo pants at arms length. "I found it outside while I was doing some work." "Look Alan, I know our sex life hasn't been great lately and could use a little spicing up, but this is a little extreme. Do something with it. 'I found it outside'. Yeah, right." She dropped it back into the box and walked into the kitchen. I did do something with it. It got locked in my drawer with all my other items. Maybe one day she would wear it for me. Someday. Wednesday, July 3rd According to what I had been told this would be my last night of my sentence. I had been under that impression before, though. I looked at black leather bag staring out at me from the closet. One more night and I would be free of the sadistic little artist and her friends. I pulled the bag out, unzippered it and started taking out the contents. First was the controller she had shown me what seemed to be an eternity ago. A marked numeric keypad, a red enter button, and eight other buttons that I had started to learn the functions of but was afraid (with good cause) to fool around with. Next came a white mask without cutouts for eyes, nose or mouth. A pair of rubber gloves. A shoulder length bleached blonde wig, in soft curls. A small box containing false fingernails, a tube of the sealant, silver hoop earrings at least an inch in diameter, a small black butt plug, a thick leather collar with spikes on it, a pair of silicon type falsies, and what looked to be a condom. I knew better. At the bottom of the bag I found two boxes, the kind clothes come in. In the first was a pair of crotchless black leather panties, a pair of elbow length leather gloves, and a lightly boned leather and satin corset with half-cup bra support. In the other box was a black leather mini-dress that would probably just cover my rear end, stockings, and calf-high black leather boots with what looked to be at least five-inch heels. The panties, corset, gloves, and boots all had a semi-shiny material on the inside that I could only presume to be VRSKIN; The catalog from the week before had confirmed my guess at a name for the stuff. The directions for dressing were slightly different. I was too enter my code after putting on each item, and to do so in a specific order. As I looked at the items I resigned myself to my fate. One last night of their kinky weirdness and I would have my life back. I squeezed some of the lubricant into my hand and began rubbing it over my entire body. Tara's instructions from that first nightechoed through my head as I massaged the goop into my hair. Finished, I put on the pair of rubber gloves and clicked my code into the controller. 30 seconds and counting. I stimulated myself into a hearty erection, not difficult when you consider it was nearly erect just from seeing the clothing, then began to roll the condom object on, wondering what they were going to do to my cock this time. The controller began to hum, then let out a BEEP. Immediately I felt a tingling sensation as my cock expanded and elongated to its new size. An inch and a half thick and eight inches long. Better not get a full erection with that dress on. I hit the enter button again. The panties slid up my legs and over my cock and balls, which I pulled through the hole in front. There was also a hole over my asshole, which would be filled in a minute. I held the falsies up to my chest, making sure to center my nipples in the little indentations, then waited for the controller to catch up. After a few seconds I heard the hum and BEEP, and my breasts expanded to a nice b-cup size. I marveled at the sensations my breasts were giving me and almost forgot about the controller. I picked up the corset and wrapped it around me. Instead of the normal draw string arrangement, this one was split up the front. On one side were a multitude of little arrow shapes, and on the other a series of matching holes. I got the idea and started to snap the arrows into place, leaving no trace of a seam on the corset anywhere. Hanging from the back of the corset was a long strap. I lubricated the butt plug, ran the strap through the slot on the bottom, and pushed it through the hole in the panties and into my anus. From that point the strap split into two parts which came up on either side of my cock and locked in place at the bottom of the corset using the same arrow and hole connectors. The stockings were next, and also connected to the corset at thirty-six different points around my leg, effectively making the corset one with the stockings. The boots were a little awkward to put on, and again were closed with the arrow connectors. I was really apprehensive about the mask. I didn't see any breathing holes and couldn't figure out what it was for, but mine was not to wonder why. I covered my face in the goop and pheld my breathe as I pressed the mask to my face. I heard the remote hum and beep, but the mask came off in my hands, and I was a little confused. I positioned the wig on my head hit the enter button again. In a moment I had long curly blonde hair. The rubber gloves came off. The bright red nails were just as easy to put on, but I couldn't figure out why I needed nails when I would be wearing gloves until I put the gloves on. When my fingers reached the ends of the tips the nails passed through, making it look as if the gloves had nails. With the prosthetics taken care of, I began to calm down a little. The collar was the last bit before the dress. It was snug but not uncomfortable, and again connected with the arrows to make a seamless circle. I sat down on the edge of the bed when I heard the controller begin to hum again. Frantically I looked through the bag to see if I had missed anything. Nothing there. BEEP. The corset contracted a little, forcing the breath from my lungs, and the gloves, boots, and collar all became skin tight. A strange kneeding and twisting sensation started on my nipples. Not my idea of comfort, but I could live with it. I grabbed the dress and pulled it up over my legs and rear, and quickly pushed my arms through and zipped it up. It was shorter than I thought, and amplified the small amount of cleavage that I had. I picked up the controller and my car keys and headed out. As I passed the bathroom, I stepped in for a peek. Before me stood a six-foot-eight (with heels) black leather bitch, bright red lipstick to match her nails and a slightly over-done make-up job. I knew now what the mask was for. If I looked real hard, I could discern traces of my own male self underneath. One last night of these indignities, I kept telling myself. One last night. I headed down stairs, and got into my car. I started to panic when I first heard it. Hummm - BEEP, and several things happened at once. The corset contracted again and the boning stiffened, forcing me into an upright position as it pushed the breath from my lungs, while the strap holding the now larger butt plug tightened, driving it further into my ass. My breasts enlarged to a c-cup, and the half-inch nipples, which now alternated between gently caressed and pinched hard, strained to break through the dress. Even my cock was thickening as it got longer. I got the car started and pulled out of the driveway. When the next BEEP came I was almost to the house. My chest went past a d-cup, and the corset had pulled even tighter, driving the now dildo sized plug even deeper. My normal thirty-two inch waist line must have been down to at least twenty-seven, and the tip of the foot long cock bulging the front and dangling out of the bottom of the dress was aching to be caressed. The toes of my boots had bent downwards so that I might walk tippy-toed on the six inch heels. I grabbed the controller and my car keys and rushed as well as I could to the house. Being extra top heavy and trying to walk in those boots wasn't easy, but I knew I couldn't have taken the boots off now even if I had the time or the will. The door to the basement opened before me and I stumbled into the darkness. "Stand where you are, slut. I wasn't finished with you last time, and I had to pay for a second chance. Now you're the one who's going to pay." When the voice came out of the darkness, I knew I was in deeper trouble than I had suspected. It was heavy and electronic and came from all around me, probably from hidden speakers: a woman's voice mutated through high-tech means. My hands reached out in front blindly hoping to touch something that might keep me from falling, but met with nothing. A blue light started to fill the chamber, and I saw around me the makings of a medieval torture chamber warped into somebody's living quarters. The walls were covered in floor to ceiling mirrors. On the wall to my left was a huge wardrobe, both doors shut. The wall to my right had a large x-frame rack, currently empty. But the oddest thing was directly across from me; a wrought iron-framed king size bed on which sat the evening's mistress. She was dressed similarly to me; high-heeled boots, stockings, corset, and gloves, but all done in a matching zebra stripe skin pattern. Her head was encased in a mask, also in zebra stripes, which covered her mouth and eyes with a metallic screen giving her a very alien bug look, and her long blonde hair streamed out of a topknot hole in the back. What really blew my mind was her body; if it were real (which I doubted) she had d-cup breasts that defied gravity and a waist and hips that I had only dreamed about. Whoever had done the research on my libido had hit the bulls-eye on this one, and my cock sprang to a rock hardness. I wondered if she were still upset about last week's disruption at the fashion show. The blue light gradually got stronger as she got up off the bed. "So, the Art Critic likes wearing leather and has a horse dick," the voice said, it's metallic neutrality already getting on my nerves,"which is good, because I like a man who is hung like a horse. Or should I say a woman who is hung the way a man should be. Maybe I shouldn't remind you of your little escapade as a horse, though, and get on with business. You've had some fun these past weeks, and this will be your last night in this program, so I'll have to make worth the price." "Worth the pr...?" The words came out of my mouth, but the voice wasn't mine. It was higher and yet huskier. Definitely not mine. More like a woman's. "That would be the collar. Nice effect, eh?" She lifted a remote, similar to mine. "Let's see. Eleven inches of cock. Check. Forty double-D tits. Check. Silkskin dildo buttplug, six inches. Check. I always wanted a she-male lover, and now I have one made to order. If your any good I'll keep you for myself. Would you like that? "Put down your things, and come over here." I did as she said, and moved to the center of the room. She pressed a few buttons on her remote, and the floor in front of me opened up. A black leather covered tumbling horse, seven feet long, rose out of the floor and locked in place. On top were to little chains with clips on the end, and from either end were straps with web type restraints attached. "Put the clips on." I reached down and picked up one of the clips. The chain was not connected to the other clip, but instead went into a hole in the horse. I pulled pown the front of my dress and attached the clip to my nipple, and pain shot through my body. I then attached the other one. -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us> | <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us> | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | <http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/>----<http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/faq.html>