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>