Message-ID: <2353eli$9707282119@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: dantedibby@aol.com (Dantedibby) Subject: Seurat's Twighlight Zone #3a :The Twighlight Cafe 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: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-Id: <19970728213701.RAA24728@ladder01.news.aol.com> Warning! The following material is adult in nature. That means if you are underage or this material is not suitable in content to survive the scrutiny of those who make the laws in your area of the world, do not read it. This material most probably contains: Male and Female domination; vaginal, oral, and anal sex; sex of a semi-consensual nature; fetishistic adornments and sex toys; nasty torture for characters I didn't like; and a little plot thrown in for good measure and to separate the sex scenes. The characters in these stories are not real, but may be based on real people that I have known, met, or seen. I'll never tell. This and all my other stories are copyright (c) by me, Seurat. Permission is given to reproduce this material only in electronic form and then only for personal use. If I find out that you are selling my material without my permission, I will track you down. What the characters in my stories do to each other is nothing compared to what I can do. On with the stories. The Twighlight Cafe, by Seurat "C'mon, Hank." Joseph protested, "It's a once in a lifetime chance, and as senior's we ain't gonna be around much longer. We're talking the Twighlight Cafe, where they give blowjobs with every drink. Besides, this party's a bust." Hank looked around, nodded agreement. He hadn't been able to get any of the girls loaded enough to go upstairs with him tonight. "Who's getting us in? It's special invite only, or so I'm told." Joseph hesitated. "Jerry. Jerry O'Neill. He has some connections." "What is it, fag night?" "You know he ain't queer. Besides, he said tonight is models night. All them babes from The Twighlight Zone are going to be there. It's the only night that outsiders can get in." "Could have surprised me. Get the guys, we all go." They'd all seen the dog-eared catalog from the 'Zone'. It was like the one from Frederick's, only a lot thicker and nastier. More expensive, too. They carried everything for anybody; latex to lace to leather, jewelry to bondage gear. And every piece was modeled, with three or four shots, viewed from different angles. It was a fraternity treasure; they'd never been able to get another one. Hank started getting a hard-on just thinking about it. "Nope. Said he could sneak in only four. I figured me, you, Fitz, and maybe Larry." "Sounds good. You drive. Be good to get away from the fraternity scene for a while, get me some fresh meat." "He said dress nice. Suits if possible." "Suits? I ain't changing to go to some fag bar." "At least sports jackets and ties, then. Can't get in without them." "Okay." Jerry was waiting in the parking lot when the boys pulled in. BMWs, Porches, Ferraris, and a multitude of other expensive cars filled the lot. Hank sneered, "the cover better not be too much. I only got about fifty on me." The other boys laughed. Jerry looked at them, and turned to Joseph. "I thought you were going to get dressed, you know, suits?" Joseph averted his eyes, knowing Hank would be the one to reply. "What's the matter, pansy, should we have dressed all queer-like, like you? If jackets and ties ain't enough for these people, then screw 'em." Jerry was dressed all in black; black leather pants, black boots, black denim shirt, and a black sports coat. Around his right wrist was a thick white bracelet. "Yeah, who died? What's with the clothing? What are you, some type of artsy-fartsy?" Larry quipped. "There better be some hot fuckin' babes in here, or your ass is grass, man." Jerry stared at them a moment, as if contemplating a comeback. "If you're coming, then lets go." He led the way to a non-descript steel door in the back of a large warehouse. To the side was a buzzer, and after Jerry pressed it, a window in the door slid open. Jerry raised his right arm, exposing the bracelet. "And four guests." he said, though the boys could see nobody behind the window. The door creaked open, revealing a long dark hallway lit only intermitantly by overhead lights. Jerry walked in, turned and waited. After a second, Hank led the others in. "This better not be a scam, O'Neill, or I'll bash your fucking head in." Jerry started walking down the hall. As they headed down the dim corridor, the entrance door slammed shut. "Just like in them movies, eh Hank?" Larry chanted. Jerry was really getting tired of his fawning. The faint sounds of music could be heard from down the hall, a heavy bass vibrating the floor. They turned a corner, and were almost deafened by dance music. "Man, oh man. Look at these fuckin' babes. Looks like the little Larry is gonna be makin' a lot of honeys happy tonight." Larry bragged. Fitz murmured, "I always wondered what heaven was like." Hank had to set the mood. "Yeah, so what. I betcha if O'Neill here can get laid here half these bitches are either whores or guys in drag." No matter what they said, the four boys were impressed. This was no frat house, and this definitely was no frat party. Before them was a flight a stairs leading down to a huge round dance floor, complete with lasers, strobes, and diamond balls. The ceiling, 50 feet over the dance floor, was made of huge plates of stainless steel that reflected the lights back down. To the left of the entrance was a long bar, and beyond that were cocktail tables on a balcony so the floor could be watched. To the other side were booths for more private meetings. Another bar connected the cocktail area to the booths, completing the outer ring. It wasn't the Twighlight Cafe that overwhelmed them though, as impressive as it was. It was the people that filled it. All told there was probably a few hundred people in there, the likes of which they had only dreamed about. The women seemed to all shop at the same store. High heels and spike heel boots adorned all their feet. Tight dresses and pants suits were the standard, no t-shirts or even sweaters. And gloves were worn by at least half of them. Leather and latex were the preferred materials, and most of the women were in red. All of them looked like they worked out for hours a day and had surgery done to enhance areas of their bodies. None looked over thirty-five. The guys, if they wore clothing, were dressed in all black, like Jerry, or in white or blue. The ones not wearing clothes wore g-strings or leather and steel harnesses. They appeared to be waiters. Even so, their was probably one server for every two women their. "Told you. Look at them guys. It's a fucking queer bar." Hank always had an opinion. "Well, you've seen it. If you want to leave, go ahead." Jerry seemed a little pissed. A very attractive brunette in white with matching cowboy boots at the bar spotted them standing in the doorway and came over. "Jerry, I'm so glad you could make it. Are these your friends?" "Yes, Ms. Worthington, these are the ones I was telling you about. Guys, this is Ms. Worthington. She owns the Twighlight Cafe. Ms. Worthington, this is Joseph Seift, Larry Lade, Fitz Urban, and Hank Prah." She smiled,"Pleased to meet you all. Any friend of Jerry's is a friend of mine." Joseph and Fitz mumbled a "and very pleased to meet you" back. Hank spoke. "Nice place you got here. I don't suppose they serve beer here, do they?" "Could you point me to the bathroom? I have to see a man about a horse." Larry interjected. Ms. Worthington seemed a little taken aback. She pointed, "Bathrooms are over there. I'm sure we can get you a beer, dear." "Gonna see what the action's like." Fitz said, as he headed towards the dance floor. "C'mon, Joe." The group dispersed, leaving Jerry and Ms. Worthington. "Nice friends you got there, Guest Jerry." "Yes, Mistress Worthington. Very nice." Hank sidled up to the bar. He ordered a beer. A blonde woman next to him turned and said,"Beer? I would have thought a handsome guy like you would have ordered something a little stronger." Hank looked at her. She was something out of the movies. Zebra-striped elbow length gloves matched the striped knee high boots, complete with four inch spike heels. She was wearing a black leather dress that didn't hide much of her ample cleavage. Long blonde hair framed a zebra skin mask through which green eyes and full pink lips were visible. Hank caught himself before he started to drool from his open mouth. "Excuse me?" He couldn't remember what she had just said. "I just thought you were more of the whiskey or vodka type." "I sort of wanted to gauge the prices first. Looks like they have to pay the rent here somehow." "Then how about I buy. Gary?" The bartender appeared, "Yes, mistress?" "Give my friend here an 'On All Fours'. You do like rum, don't you?" Hank nodded. "Very well, Mistress." "Mistress? Isn't that like one of those bondage things?" said Hank. "Actually, it's a term of respect. I have enough stature in this place that that is what they call me. Someday you may respect me enough to call me 'Mistress', too" Hank felt a sort of erotic fear. He knew she was hitting on him, but that usually happened when a girl had been drinking. Besides, she could have had any guy in the joint. "I'm Hank. Pleased to meet you." "Pleased to meet you, Hank. I'm...not giving my name out to open range guests. You came with Jerry, didn't you?" "Yeah. Who would have believed the little fag could get us in a place like this?" Hank took a swig of the drink. It was strong, but tasted good. A couple of these in a girl and she'd be flat on her back with legs spread. Or, as the name implied, on all fours. "What's an 'open range guest'?" "You are. You don't dress in the clothing of a member. And you're not showing the band of an invited guest. Which means you're here unattached; free to roam the open range. Lucky for you that you're exactly what I'm in the mood for. Big, smart, and handsome. To tell you the truth, Hank, sitting here at this bar looking at all these perfect bodies has made me really horny and, seeing as your here alone, I wondered if I could take you upstairs and fuck you." Hank's mouth dropped again. He'd used a line like that plenty of times and had ended up in bed plenty of times. He already had a hard-on, and now this babe wanted to go fuck him. Doubts surfaced. "I don't know. I better not. My friends." "Screw them. Let them get their own excitement. This is a one time offer, buddy. Take it or leave it." She stood up, looked Hank in the eye, then turned and walked away. "Wait!" Hank gulped down the drink, put the glass on the bar and trotted after the woman. The stories he was gonna tell about this bitch would be far beyond anything she was going to do to him. Larry maneuvered his way through the crowd. It seemed to Larry that a fair share of the women were dressed in clothes like they had in the Twighlight Zone catalog. His head snapped around, recognizing one women. He was positive. She was one of the models from the catalog. He looked around again, noticing that the women in red all looked like they were models. The other women were beautiful, too, but he hadn't masturbated over their pictures. Two very attractive brunettes in red latex teddies and red latex boots stood outside the doors to the bathrooms. Larry looked close. The Twins! The times he had fantasized about them were too numerous to remember. He moved in for the kill. "Good evening, ladies. I was wondering if you would like to come in and give me a hand?" The girls smiled. One looked down at Larry's right hand, then whispered something to the other. "We'd like to, but we can't fuck free roamers." It wasn't the reaction Larry expected. Usually it got him a 'pig' or 'asshole' or, if he really leered, a 'why, can't find it by yourself?'. He entered the bathroom slightly dumbfounded. Inside was just like any other bathroom. Larry found an empty stall, dropped his pants, and began to jerk off. This was too much. What was with the look they gave his hand? Larry started to scheme. He listened carefully as he heard another person come in, and by the sound of it he was drunk. Larry zipped up, and waited. Larry heard the person enter the stall to his right, close the door, and after a few moments he heard vomiting. The person got up and opened the door, and Larry did also. He turned and walked right into the guy. "Hey man, be careful!" He grabbed the guy to keep him from falling backwards. "Sorry. Must have had too much to drink." The guy was dressed in an Armani suit, they same medium blue as some of the other people. He didn't notice Larry open the bracelet and slide it off as Larry led him to the sinks. "Why don't you cool down a little. The heat out there will do it to you every time." The man mumbled a response. Larry turned, but before he opened the door he went to put the red and gold bracelet on. The catch was a little mangled, and wouldn't close correctly. "Shit." Larry pulled out his wallet, found a postage stamp he kept in there. He licked it and smoothed it over the catch, keeping it in place. "Time to get some pussy." The door opened and Larry walked out, immediately looking for the twins. He saw them talking to a very attractive redhead dressed black leather boots, pants, and shirt. Now that he knew to look, he noticed that none of the three wore bracelets. He adjusted his and walked over. The three women looked up at him. The one in black frowned at first, then smiled when she saw the red and gold bracelet around his wrist. She said something to the twins, and the giggled. As Larry reached them, both stood straighter, thrusting out their chests. Larry realized the latex not only was red and tight, but let some of what was underneath show through. His erection, the job in the bathroom left uncompleted, was twisted painfully in his underwear. "Ladies, we meet again. Are you sure you wouldn't like to change your mind? I might teach you something new." Both giggled, and looked at the other woman. She spoke. "I am Agent Katherine, their trainer. If you are interested in buying their contracts, I'm sure we could work out some kind of deal." Her voice had a Gaelic lilt to it, and her green eyes flashed at him. Larry found it hard to speak. He'd heard a lot of 'mistress' comments, along with a bunch of other titles, like 'guest' and 'agent'. "Pleased to meet you. I'm Larry, um, guest Larry." "Well, Guest Larry, this is slut Mitzy and her partner slut Ditzy. I'm sure we could go to a private room upstairs so you could check their training. That is, if you are so inclined." "You mean have sex? Sure!" "Um, How much is this going to cost me?" "Your first experience at the club, eh? They can only be bought or sold, not rented. Consider it a trial run. I expect them to pass any of your tests with flying colors." "Then lets get them upstairs. It's been a few hours since I had sex, and little Larry is getting mighty anxious." The Twins giggled. Jerry and Joseph sat at one of the small tables with a view of the dance floor, where Fitz danced with nobody in particular, enjoying the feel of the crowd around him. He usually had problems finding partners. "How the hell did you ever get into this place?" "My aunt is one of the owners. In fact, she is probably going to be here tonight. It looks like most of the other owners are here already." Joseph looked out over the crowd. "How can you tell?" "Simple. Citizens are big shots who want a chunk of the action; they and their guests are in white. Agents and their guests are in black. Twighlight Zone Models are in red; Owners wear their own colors, and their guests wear what they want. The ones without much on are their personal servants." "Ms. Worthington's a citizen? She was wearing white." "She's the owner. She can wear whatever she wants." "So we're owners guests, and your an agent?" Jerry smiled. "No. That's what the bracelets are for. All guests wear them. As guests of a guest, you guys don't get them. Most of the members won't have anything to do with you." He took a drink. "But you might get lucky with another guest. Sex is pretty open at these events." Joseph mulled it over. "You mean, those women in red out there, the ones I would give my left nut for, are all models for the Twighlight Zone?" "Yeah, the guys too. They can do stuff in bed you can't imagine." "So Fitz doesn't have a prayer out there, does he?" "Nope." Jerry took another drink. "Joe? What happened to us? I mean, we were pretty good friends in grade school. But you sort of dumped me for that ass Hank." "I don't know. He's very powerful; he's always doing something. I guess I'm sort of drawn to him. I know it sounds weird, but he's very charismatic." "Why does he hate me? I get you guys in here, and he still just gives me shit." "You don't fight back. Give him shit back; show him your his equal. He doesn't pick on people he respects. He just doesn't respect you." "So if I give him shit, he'll stop harassing me?" "I didn't say that. He harasses everybody. He just won't do it as much." At that point Tara Worthington showed up, seating herself between the two. "Are you boys talking about me?" "No, Ms. Worthington," Jerry replied. "We were discussing some stuff from school." "Oh. Jerry, would you mind getting us some drinks. I'd like a little time with Joseph, here." Jerry nodded and left, dismissed. "So Joseph. Have you made any plans for after graduation?" "No ma'am. I've been on a lot of interviews, but nothing has panned out. I guess I'm not really sure what I want to do. Four years of college, and no ideas yet. I was thinking of going into grad school." Joseph thought she couldn't be more than thirty, but she seemed wiser and more confident than anybody he knew. Her attitude demanded respect; Joseph felt like a little kid talking to the principal. "Have you ever thought of modeling? The Zone is always looking for good looking guys like you. A little more meat, a little training, and you could be out there dancing with a six-figure contract in your back pocket." He looked at the men on the dance floor. Most were wearing only tight leather shorts."Dress like that? I don't think so." "Independent models start at two thousand a day per shoot; those with contracts earn more than twice that and enjoy special perks. Two years out of college you would have all your student loans paid off, a nice car, and a place to call your own." "Are you kidding me? You think I could do that?" "Sure. Why don't you come to my office tomorrow and we'll work up some contracts. I've an office over at the Baum Dietrich center." "Can't tomorrow. I've a big test. Could I do it the day after, Ms. Worthington?" "That would be fine. Here comes Jerry with our drinks." Fitz moved his hips, swaying to the music. Girls surrounded him. He was smart enough to know they weren't really dancing with him, but he'd had a few drinks (they were free) and didn't really care. One really caught his eye. She was in a black leotard, heels, and gloves, but unlike others in black she also wore a white bow tie with a matching ribbon in her tightly bunned brunette hair. She spotted him staring at her and moved in. "HI!" She shouted over the music. "HI!" He shouted back. "I LIKE THE WAY YOU DANCE!" "THANKS!" She moved in close, matching his movements flawlessly. The went through three songs, then the music paused. "Could we rest for a moment?" "Sure." He motioned towards the back bar. This woman was incredible looking. Big brown eyes, pouting lips. He couldn't take his eyes off her hips. "I was wondering. I noticed you're a free roaming guest. I've got a magic show to do in a little while, and I was wondering if you would help me out." "Sure, I guess. I just thought..." "That I wanted you for something else? I guess I do, but we can discuss that later. Will you do the show? It's only one trick; an transformation illusion." "Okay. What do I have to do? -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | \ .../assm/faq.html> /