Message-ID: <12143eli$9806132106@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: "Seurat" Subject: {ASSM} RP Seurat's Twighlight Zone chapter 4(h):Art Critic (femdom, wife, etc.) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <01bd96e5$f4a875c0$2810aacc@default> 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. 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