The Twighlight Zone Ch. 03

Elizabeth gathered up all her energy. She knew she was speaking out of turn, but she had to know. "What did you do to me?"

Tara was going through the closet; she tossed out a black silk shirt, then a black leather belt, then turned to face Candy. "You must be a strong one, to still be able to refuse a direct order. It's the earrings, you little shit." The nice demeanor Tara had exhibited earlier was gone. Elizabeth immediately reached up and fumbled with the unusual earrings, but couldn't quite grasp the backs with her gloved hands.

Tara reached up and grabbed the ex-model's jaw. "The larger ones are releasing a concentrated chemical into your bloodstream which makes you very receptive to suggestion. I would say you could remove them, but you now have no desire to do so." Candy immediately stopped trying. "The smaller ones serve a function you'll discover later. Now hurry up and get dressed. I'd like to see if that mouth of yours can do more than complain before the door bell rings."

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Ding-dong. Mistress Tara pushed Candy's head away from her crotch. Pussy juice streamed down her chin. "Did I do good, Mistress Tara?"

"Fair, Candy, but you'll learn. You would think that with all the oral attention you've been getting, that you would have picked up a few tricks. You can work on that later, I suppose. Now clean up, and fix your make-up; wear the silvery pink lipstick."

"Yes, Mistress Tara." I can't believe I just ate her pussy. I've got do to something to get out of here! But her Candy-self did just what it was told.

* * * * * * * * * *

Candy walked down the steps carefully. Besides the difficulty she was having with the heels, the dildo and the butt plug were a bit uncomfortable. Well, maybe 'unusual' was a better word for it. Max will help me. He's got to help me. She heard voices in the living room, male and female. She reached the bottom of the stairs and turned the corner. Mistress Tara was talking to John, and another woman was behind him. John! maybe he would help!

"Here she is now, your little slut Candy!"

"Hello, Candy" said John,"you remember slut Buffy, your old secretary, don't you?"

The other woman looked up at the name with a dizzy-looking smile on her face. Cheryl! She was the one that had led John on in the first place! What had happened here? Max was supposed to have killed her; they found a body in the car wreck, and identified it as her.

Cheryl/Buffy was dressed the same as Candy, only in negative. White boots peeked from her jeans, white gloves, a white leather tube giving her black hair a pony look, and no doubt a white corset and toys under the white shirt. Her tits strained against the shirt, much the same way as Candy's did, and her erect nipples were evident. She even wore the same silvery pink lipstick. John was dressed in jeans, cowboy boots, a nice shirt, and a leather jacket.

Tara spoke, "Candy, this is Master John, whom you will refer to as John in public, and Master at all other times. This is slut Buffy, whom you will refer to as Buffy in public or as 'slut Buffy' at all other times. You will do whatever Master John tells you to."

"Yes, Mistress Tara." Like hell!

"John, everything worked perfectly. I did nothing with the toys yet, though. Did the paperwork go through okay?"

"Yes, Ms. Worthington. The entire Harn estate is now mine. You'd think that somebody that thought she was as smart as she was would have reread the contract before she signed it. We simply substituted a new set of papers, and she never doubted it. By the way, seeing as she is now a penniless waif, she'll need a job. Any modeling contracts open for her and Buffy at the Zone? I've got a room upstairs in my new house here that she and Buffy can stay in, if they're good." At the phrase 'if they're good' Buffy's eyes got a dreamy look, and she reached around Master John and began rubbing his crotch. Mistress Tara smiled again.

He continued, "of course, it's going to take a bit of remodeling and, seeing as how some of my old possession were destroyed in an apartment fire a little while ago, I think we may do some shopping for furnishings soon." Buffy continued to focus her attention on the front of his jeans.

"Programming's going well, I see. You have to be a little more careful with your words; I could see where things could be a little embarrassing in public if you make a slip. Yes, I could use a few more models, in the bondage and sexual toys areas. Are you going to set up Candy's program before you go?"

"Nearly forgot!" He took out a little control and pressed a few buttons. The second set of stud earrings in the new Candy's ears crackled to life. A voice started whispering in both of Candy's ears ...you love Master John you will serve Master John you will do anything Master John tells you... then slowly faded into the room's background noise. If she concentrated, she could pick it out ...you love sex with Master John you love sex with slut Buffy you love sexy clothing... Elizabeth wasn't sure what the voices were for, though.

"That should do for now. I really don't know how to thank you, Ms. Worthington."

"Nothing to worry about. I have to watch out for my best workers, you know? Before you go, John, how are things in the biochemical prosthetics division going?" Tara winked at the man.

"Let me show you. Buffy, show Mistress Tara your favorite thing in the whole world."

Buffy's whole body shivered as she dropped to her knees, and a lustful grin spread across her face. She undid Master John's belt, and nearly ripped his pants off, exposing the cock she had recently rubbed to a full erection.

Candy gasped. Holy shit. Look at him. He's huge! At least ten inches long, and two in diameter. He was bigger than Max! Buffy took the head of the engorged cock in her mouth and began stroking the shaft with her left hand while her right hand fondled his egg sized balls. Her eyes closed and she started to hum as if there was no place in the world she would rather be. In fact, at this point in Buffy's training, there *was* no place she would rather be. Her training was almost complete.

John pressed another button on the remote. The voices in Candy's ears were no longer in sync. ...you love giving head you love pleasing orally and anally... while the other spoke phrases ...to you the term on your knees' is an invitation to please Master John orally... Both voices again quickly blended into the background noise.

For the briefest of moments during the switch, Elizabeth resurfaced. "John...why are you...why did you...?" but the thought slipped from her mind. Elizabeth, or 'Candy' as she now knew her name to be, had the briefest of thoughts regarding subliminal messages, but quickly put them out of her head. There were more important things to worry about. It was just a few moments later when all the worries she had about money and Max slipped from her mind with the last of her old persona.

"Why did I do this to you? Well, my old girlfriend, Elizabeth," he started, and a distant memory flitted through her head at the name, "she was a bit of a 'user', so I decided to replace her with a newer model. One that does what I want her to do, when I want her to do it. Not the other way around."

Candy felt drawn to Master John, and looked him in the eyes. There was a question there, but she knew that he had to give her permission. Master John smiled and said, "Buffy, stop. Our new slut wants to make up for lost time. On your knees, slut Candy. Show me what I haven't been getting from you for the past three months." He winked at Mistress Tara, who stifled a giggle.

Candy dropped to her knees in front of Master John. She wrapped her leather covered left hand around his shaft, and reached out with her right to fondle his ballsack as she had seen Buffy do. The purple head, bigger than a golf ball, still glistened with Buffy's saliva. For a moment, there was a flash of 'Elizabeth' as she pondered whether she could actually fellate the huge dick in front of her. I can't. It's too big. Too fucking big. Her mouth opened, and she slid the cockhead past her silvery-pink lips, leaving a slight trail of lipstick and gloss as her lips tightened their grip. Her hands began stroking and fondling of there own accord while her lips swirled and explored. Soon she began to ease more of the huge prick into her mouth, slowly bobbing her head up and down. God I can't believe I'm doing this. Two inches, then three, then four. The glans hit the back of her throat It's too much! Too FUCKING BIG!, and on the next down stroke she started to deep throat it.

John touched another button on his small control. Between slut Candy's legs things began to happen. The buttplug and the dildo began to expand as the current from the batteries hidden in the corset reacted with the chemicals inside the toys. When they reached their full size, both began to warm and vibrate. Slut Candy's orgasm began to build. God I can't take much more.

John tensed up, He's going to cum! , and in a last moment of defiance, slut Candy moved to pull the cock head out of her mouth. Mistress Tara's hands instead forced her head back into position just as the cum spurted forth. It was not the palm full that she got from Max's little dick, but the first stream would have filled her mouth if it hadn't shot right down her throat. She kept pumping her Master's cock, shooting stream after stream of tasty cum down her throat. He pulled away, her pouting mouth sucking as long as she could. The toys inside her overexcited her nerves, sending her into a convulsive orgasm that rocked her like none before. Candy had given her master an orgasm, and been permitted to swallow the results, and finally realized how happy she was with her accomplishment.

Tara looked at the prosthetic cock. She knew that for all intents and purposes, it was a part of John, but she thought he might have overdone it a little with the size. "Wow, John. How much did you prime your prick with?"

"Well Ms. Worthington, I figure that was about three months worth. I've been saving up for a special occasion." They both laughed.

"Slut Candy, did you like that?" Tara spoke softly to the convulsing body on the floor. "Every time you please your master, he may reward you with an orgasm. Don't please him, and he will punish you. Or worse, he may sell you to me. Sort of sad, really. You could of been a domme to rival the best in my organization. Too bad you were so greedy; that was your downfall. See you Monday, bright and early. Got a new catalog to get out!"

Slut Candy looked up at Mistress Tara and Master John, affection and desire in her eyes. Inside her head, slut Candy heard a weak voice scream in futility as the last vestige of the woman that was Elizabeth accepted it's fate. Master John pulled his underwear and pants back on, gave a small bow to Ms. Worthington, and walked to the door. Buffy and Candy came up on either side, each taking an arm.

I hope Master John will let me suck his cock again soon, they both thought.

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Epilogue

Max swung his Porsche into the driveway, and clicked off the ignition. Elizabeth is going to be fucked like never before. He had stayed, ever so briefly so as not to be obvious, to watch the explosion that killed John Roland. Nobody could have survived that.

Maybe she'll wear some of that kinky underwear that he buys her. Correction: bought her. If that bitch I married had done me like Elizabeth does, we wouldn't be getting divorced right now.

He trotted up to the front door. Tacked to the front door was envelope with his name printed on the front. He pulled it off, and the door slowly swung open, of it's own accord. On the floor of the hallway was a large clothing box emblazoned with "The Twighlight Zone". He stepped into the foyer, closed the door, and opened the envelope.

Max, my little slave.

Put on the outfit in the box. All of it.

Make sure it's nice and tight.

Then bring that big cock of yours upstairs.

I've got some plans for it

and you

that you will never forget.

Mistress

Wow! She's gone off the deep end this time. Max had a difficult time getting his clothes off fast enough, and left them in a pile on the foyer floor. His erection was almost painful as he opened the box. Inside were three leather bags, each with a 'Twighlight Zone" insignia.

The first contained a mass of one inch black leather straps connected with rings in a criss-cross pattern. The second had what looked like a black leather condom and a little, empty bag. In the third was a ring-gag harness to keep his mouth open wide. After he removed the bags he saw three small envelopes numbered #1,#2,#3.

she has gone off the deep end, but when she gets in these moods she's fucking incredible He ripped open the first envelope.

#1 - put on the jumpsuit.

You climb in through the neck, like a good little slave.

Max picked up the mass of straps, straightened them out as best he could, then found the collar. He pulled the leather-like fabric and it stretched surprisingly wide, and stepped in. In a moment he was completely in the harness, and he straightened and flattened the straps where need be. The suit was like a net covering his body from the neck down. It left his hands and feet free, and his erection and ass bare. If he could have gotten harder, he would have. He ripped open the second envelope so violently that he actually ripped part of the note inside. He held the two sections together to read it.

#2 - put the tube on my property.

Pass it though the ring, then draw the bag over your sack.

Max did as instructed. The tube was tight; almost too tight. It covered all of his eight inches, leaving the glans exposed. The bag, which seemed to be made of the same stretchy leather looking material, had a ring which slid down the shaft, then drew it over his ball sack. It felt like somebody had a good grip. It was a little uncomfortable, but certainly arousing. He knew the third one was going to tell him to put on the gag, but he opened it anyway.

#3 - put the gag on and get your ass upstairs; you're already late.

This better be worth it.

She had put him a ball-gag once, after he killed her first boyfriend. Of course, she had made up for his inability to use his mouth by using hers twice as much. He stuck the ring in his mouth, maneuvered it behind his teeth, and fastened the harness behind this head and again on top, making sure it was snug. His mouth was open to the limit, wrapped around the 2 inch ring. He couldn't speak at all. He nearly came as he ran up the stairs.

The bedroom was lit only with candles, and Elizabeth was nowhere in sight. A few empty boxes from 'The Twighlight Zone' lay on the floor. The bed had only a black satin sheet and four manacles attached to the frame. A large card read, 'Tie yourself, sex slave'. Oh man oh man oh man. Max hooked his left ankle into the first manacle, and slapped the magnetic hasp shut. He had to spread his legs wide to get his ankle to the other manacle, but he only had to push down against the hinge, and the halves closed and magnetically locked. His arms stretched out and found their place in their manacles.

Pre-cum began to dribble down his wrapped shaft. The tube and the sack held his prick straight up and pointed towards the ceiling. His cock was so hard it hurt. A voice from across the room startled him out his momentary erotic daydream.

It wasn't Elizabeth. Max's heart had been racing from sexual arousal, but now fear replaced excitement. The woman's voice was strong without being masculine, and had just a hint of an English accent.

"So this is the guy who was going to kill one of my favorite biochemists, eh? Nice dick you got there; you'd think it would get you laid a little more often, or you wouldn't be where you are now. Pretty desperate for sex, aren't you?" A small woman dressed in white walked into the room. Curled black hair framed an angelic face. "Looks like you can follow directions, though. That's good, especially where you are going." Who the fuck is that? Max futilely strained against the manacles, and realized just how badly he had been had. Grunts and snorts emanated from his mouth, but nothing intelligible could make it past the ring-gag.

"What was that?" she asked, "Where's Elizabeth? Funny that you should be concerned about her. She left a little while ago with John."

John? No, John should be dead by now. Max had watched as his apartment erupted in a fireball less than an hour ago. Max gurgled incomprehensibly again.

"No, I assure you he is quite well. What's that? Really, Maxie, you are very difficult to understand. Perhaps it would be best if you just shut up." Tara slid the purple dildo, covered with Elizabeth's dried juices, through the ring-gag and all the way into Max's mouth, making him gag. "Better get used to it. You'll be sucking real ones pretty soon."

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End? I don't think so. Part 5 in the series is all about Max and what he goes through one night in a desperate attempt to gain his freedom from the diabolical Ms. Tara Worthington. Before that is Part 4 in the series, "The Art Critic", in which we learn about Alan O'Neill, who critiques some sculptures of Tara's, plays a game of racquetball, and finds out (the hard way, naturally) what happens when Ms. Worthington takes an interest in his extracurricular activities.