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From: "Seurat" <seurat7@enter.net>
Subject: {ASSM} RP Seurat's Twighlight Zone chapter 4(h):Art Critic (femdom, wife, etc.)
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     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, 
'Slave to Pussy: One man's story' and the other 'Erotic 
tales of the Highway Patrol'.
 

Wednesday, June 26th

     I found the package when I got home from work that day.  
It was tall and thin, like a box for a big stand up mirror.  
I lugged it inside and upstairs.  It wasn't so much heavy as 
it was unwieldy.  I slid it into the back of the hall closet.
     
     We had salads for dinner that night. my wife told me 
that she instead of choir tonight she was supposed to be 
having dinner with some prospective clients.  I felt a 
twinge of jealousy at the thought of her going out with 
somebody else; she was my wife.  She reassured me that the 
client was a female and that I had nothing to worry about.  
     When she came downstairs after changing I felt my heart 
leap.  Her aerobics class and the diet had really trimmed 
down her body; it was back in the shape I knew when I met 
her.  She looked stunning in her business suit and heels, 
and her make-up done just right.  Again I felt jealous.
     "Honey, you know this is just business.  I do have to 
entertain prospective clients occasionally.  Now, I have to 
go.  Don't forget to pick up the tickets.  And don't wait up 
too late; I don't know how long this will take."   'Don't 
forget to pick up the tickets' should have been her mantra.  
I was at the point where I picked them up automatically on 
the way home from work. 
She looked so good that when she left I almost forgot it 
was Wednesday.
     I went upstairs and pulled the box out of the closet.  
Inside was a black body suit much like the one I wore when I
was in Tara's artwork, only without the hood.  Also contained 
in the box was a tuxedo, black socks, new shoes, a pair of 
black leather driving gloves, a black leather mask for around 
my eyes,  a tube of gel, and the remote.  I quickly got into 
the suit, my erection standing at attention, and then dressed 
in bodysuit and the tuxedo.  There was enough flexibility in 
the cock collar that after I was locked into the suit, I 
wasn't tenting the tuxedo pants.  Well, not much.  The mask, 
adhering to my face my Tara's magic chemicals, would give me 
some anonimity.  I searched the box for a note, and found it 
inside the tux jacket.  It simply gave a time a few hours from 
now.  Guess my wife wasn't the only one going out tonight.
     I went downstairs and watched television until the 
appointed time when I heard a car pull into the driveway.  
Before I could turn off the t.v. the doorbell rang.  Waiting 
outside was a female chauffeur, dressed in skin tight black 
leather dress, spike heels, driver's hat, and mirrored 
sunglasses.  She led the way to the car and, without speaking 
a word, let me into the back of the stretch limo parked in 
the driveway.  
     The interior or the car was done completely in zebra 
stripped upholstery, and I was the only occupant.  As the 
car pulled down the road, I poured myself a drink from 
the bar.

     When the car stopped a little while later and the door 
opened, I found myself at a store named 'The Twighlight Zone'.  
A quick look around confirmed that it was in the same area 
as 'The Twighlight Cafe'.  As I walked up to the doors, my 
limo pulled away.
     Inside, the store lived up to it's name.  Manequins, 
both male and female, were dressed in everything from lace 
to latex to leather.  Elegant ballroom dresses to one side 
were counterbalanced by bondage corsets on the other.  It 
was a place for people with lots of money and lots of different
dressing ideas.  I strolled down the main aisle, heading 
for a small group of people.
     "It was incredible.  He was hung like a horse, and 
didn't do anything I didn't want him to.  He just...Oh, 
excuse me, sir.  You're here for the fashion show?  Please 
follow me."  An attractive women in a silver evening dress 
and heels seperated herself from the group took my arm and 
led me deeper into the store.
     The place was huge!  At least as big as any department 
store at the mall.  It wasn't just lingerie and bondage 
clothes they sold, either.  Designer jeans, sneakers to high 
heel boots, erotic toys, household knick-knacks, even 
furniture!  I didn't see any prices on anything, and figured 
that people that could afford things like this didn't worry 
about prices.
     I was taken into a large ballroom area that was at the
very back of the store.  A long model's runway ran down the 
middle from a curtained area at the back.  At either side 
and at the end were placed comfortable chairs; many were 
filled with women and men dressed similarly to me.  My escort 
left me, and I searched the crowd for my date.
     I recognized her immediately.  She sat at the end of 
the runway, just off to the side.  Her evening dress was 
made of glittering scales that at first looked dark silver, 
but on closer examination actually formed a stripped 
pattern, much like a zebra.  She wore matching heels, 
gloves,  a choker,  and a mask.  I walked over to her.
     "Is this seat taken?"
     "Why Alan, must you ask?"  I sat.
     "I'm afraid you have the better of me."
     "Tonight you may call me Jackie."
     "Well, Jackie, would you mind telling me what is on 
tonights venue?"
     "It's a fashion show for the new catalog.  I'm not 
quite as creative as the others; I thought you might like 
to have a night off, and do something different."
     "Every week it's been something different.  What kind 
of fashion show?"
     "The Zone is doing some new pieces this year, and this 
is the pre-release party."
     I looked around, thinking that I recognized some of the 
big art buyers, but I couldn't be sure.  Everybody wore 
masks.  "Are all these people buyers?"
     "Buying, selling, making contacts.  It's all business."
     A waitress took our orders for drinks.  "Jackie?  You 
seem a little more open then the others.  Can I ask you a 
few questions?"
     She faced me.  "Sorry.  Any questions you have will be 
answered at a later date.  Sit back;


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