Message-ID: <3507eli$9709011154@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: dantedibby@aol.com (Dantedibby) X-Good-Line-Length: yes Subject: Twighlight Zone4 by Seurat:Art Critic 2b/8 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: <19970901110800.HAA15708@ladder01.news.aol.com> See big mean nasty warning section 1a My car screached to a stop outside the house on Sycamore St. It was close to where Tara lived, maybe a block or two over, and I assumed that it must belong to one of her friends. The house was a large brownstone, one of a string of seven on the street. It was a nice neighborhood, probaly inhabited by yuppie wannabes, but I don't think they would have liked what they saw getting out of my car. My black clad body, with erect prick tenting my sweat pants, moved quickly from the car to the ornate oak and glass street level door. I knocked and the door swung open, and as I stepped in I noticed three Greek letters imbedded in the leaded glass window. My bare feet stepped onto a thick, plush carpet, a dark blue in color. I stood in a foyer, about ten foot square, with dark paneling on the walls and three other doors, one to either side and one in front. A yellow light filtered through the leaded glass window in that far door; it too had the three greek letters on it, only in gold leaf. A beta, an alpha, and a delta, if I remembered my college days right. BAD? A sick joke; expensive, but sick. Baum And Dietrich? I couldn't be sure. I closed the street door and advanced to the one with the light behind it and knocked. "Come in, Alan. You're early." The door swung open, revealing a large room that must have taken up the entire basement of the house, Dark panelled walls supported a ten foot high ceiling. My feet padded quietly into the room, which was also carpeted, and I found myself in what looked to be a weight room, only I didn't recognize any of the equipment. Tara stood on the other side, disassembling on a device made of pipes and straps. She was dressed in white head to toe; a snug leather dress with a high collar and a hem down at the knees, white stockings, and white wrist length gloves. Even though the dress was not very revealing, it was snug enough to accentuate all her curves, and would have made me go hard if I had had the problem of being limp. She wore no shoes, probably so she wouldn't have to worry about the carpet. As I approached, she stopped what she was working on and looked up. "You can take off the sweats. I'll be with you in a moment." She went back to work on the construction while I shucked the pants. After a minute, she spoke again. "Come here. I need you to move this box into the lift." I walked over, my dick bobbing up and down obscenely in front of me, and picked up the box. It was full of bent rods about a foot long, and a number of nylon straps. "You're awfully quiet today. Given up hope of getting out of your situation, or have you resigned yourself to enjoy what you have only read and fantasized about? Either way, tonight should be exciting. Come along." She walked to a section of the wall and pressed on a section of the paneling. A five foot section of the wall recessed and slid to the side, revealing an old style gated elevator. Her English term of 'lift' came back into my mind, and I wondered if she was American for no real reason. "You look very nice tonight." I said, trying to ease my situation. "I don't suppose you'd like to tell me what's going to happen to me tonight, would you?" We got on the elevator, and she locked the gate in place. It started to rise. "Thank you. If I told you what was going to happen, then it wouldn't be a suprise, would it?" She laughed a little. "Don't worry. Nothing bad will happen to you tonight. Just a little art show I want my favorite critic to attend." My mind started to read things into her words. Bad. BAD? Art show? The elevator stopped, and she opened the gate and the outer door. The room it opened onto was at least twice the size of the basement; it must have cut across two of the houses, and reached across two floors. The whole room was painted white, with a marble floor. A weak light shone from a few track lights in the ceiling, faintly illuminating sculptures and paintings around the room. We walked halfway around the room to a bent frame sculpture made from black tubing. The main supports were two pyramids, which supported a crossbeam which ran through a circle at least nine feet in diameter. In side the circle was another circle, and within that one, another, the smallest being at least eight feet across. She motioned for me to put down the box, and when I did she started to fish though the rods. "You know, you've got a really strange place here. A private art gallery, elevators in a house, all the fun stuff." She fitted two of the rods together, and snapped two straps at either end. "And what about those Greek letters? What do they mean? Did all of this come from your father?" She took out another rod and connected it to a star shaped device, and began strapping it to my left leg. I felt like like was getting fitted for a suit. "My father left it to me, but it was my great-grandmother that designed and built it. She had plenty of money, and did what she wanted. Other leg please. Thank you. Anyway, she belonged to an organization with a very strict charter and good benefits, and this was her way of returning the favors they showed her and her husband. It's been in the family ever since. Come over here please." She pulled me, stiff- legged, over to the circles, and swiveled them so I could climb inside. Once inside, she slid in the two piece rod, and attached it to my shoulders and wrists, turning my upper body into a big 'T'. "Must have been pretty good benefits, to have built a place like this. Is that what the BAD stood for?" She lifted my feet onto the frame and snapped the bars in place, then hooked the star device to the other leg bar, then to a third bar and my shoulder rod, making an effective rack to which I was already attached. "Stands for, Alan, stands for." She took another rod, this one having a small, finger sized dildo attached to the end. She covered it liberally in lubricant, and pressed it to my anus. "Open up." It slid in easily through a hole in the rear of my suit that I hadn't noticed before and pressed into my anus about half an inch before my muscles stopped it, and she ajusted it it and attached it to the rest of the rack, leaving it about a half inch in my ass. Try as I might, I couldn't unimpale my self. "You see, Beta Alpha Delta still exists. It is a Femina Sorority, and I'm putting on a little show for the local chapter. It's pledge time, and we have some fine candidates. You won't be working with them much, though." She pulled a set of earphones out of the box, and wedged them in the little earslots in my hood. They plugged into a little jack on the frame, and suddenly her voice was amplified. "I'm going to give you the controls now, Alan. Try not to make a mess. See you in a little while." She pressed a little device into each of my hands, then stood back and smiled. "Almost forgot." She reached into the box again and pulled out something which she kept hidden at her side. "A little kiss before I go?" She leaned in, and gave me a rather tonguey kiss, and at the same time reached down and grabbed my aching dick. Suddenly, she pinched the glans between two fingernails, and when I yelped, she stuffed the ball of the gag into my mouth and locked it place. It must have been coated with something; it tasted sour and I noticed that my nervous stomach was calming almost immediately. Again she stepped back, and grabbed the side of the inner sphere and pulled. It began to spin slowly around, giving me a view of the room, the Tara, then the room. On one of the passes, I saw her grab the next sphere and shove it in a different direction. The dildo at my ass began to hum, and I started to get dizzy. She spun the third one and my view began to shift all over the room. I rotated in three hundred sixty degrees on three different planes. "The controls will let you start or stop rotation. I would let it spin, if I were you, unless you want that vibrator up your ass. It's a gravity fed device. If it stays in any one orientation for more than twenty seconds, it will start to rise against the frame and into your rear end. It won't go far, but if you're not used to it I guess it could be a little uncomfortable. I don't know; maybe your into that kind of thing. Talk to you later." The noise of the room clicked off, and was replaced with music by Nine Inch Nails. Whatever was on the ball gag was keeping me from throwing up. I felt the spheres slow down, and decided not to risk it. I closed my eyes and clicked on the buttons, sending the device back into rotations. Disorientation or butt fuck by a piece of art. I'll take the disorientation. 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. -- +--------------' 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> /