The Twighlight Zone Ch. 04

I found myself on the dance floor, opposite Mistress Dana and some other attractive women. They began to show me how to dance, how to move to music, how to not touch a women and yet be focused on her, how to let go on a dance floor. Each of the women would make suggestions or corrections, and my body would remember them. They showed me how to slow dance and fast dance, and, once they realized how quickly I was learning, how to line dance and follow another's steps in order to learn a new dance. I hoped I would remember all this.

I looked around us and spotted some familiar people. The majority of the women there were in red latex outfits. A minority were in black, usually leather. A few, however, were dressed in striking colors. One dressed in purple looked like my horse trainer. Another in green and yellow made my feet itch. There were at least a half dozen others. It was then that I realized what was happening. I was dressed in a leather harness, my strapped down erection obvious to all. I was surrounded by sexy women and guys that were their slaves. I stopped dead in my tracks and once again felt the heat of my embarrassment rise from my skin. Mistress Dana noticed, too.

I looked at her, bewildered. "What happened to me?"

She looked resigned. "Don't you mean, 'What happened to me, Mistress Dana'?"

"Um, what happened to me, Mistress Dana?"

"I gave you a drug to facilitate your learning. The small amount in your new earrings was absorbed through your new piercings." She nodded to herself. "Time's up. Don't worry, it has no negative side effects. I don't like to use drugs, normally. It's just that I only had a limited amount of time. Come with me." She walked off, and I fell in step, two paces behind and to her left.

"Very good. A good slave knows and remembers his place. Now get in here." She motioned to a black curtain at the side of the dance floor. I got in and she pulled the curtain shut, leaving me in darkness. I was in an area about five feet in diameter, in pitch black. I heard her voice over the muffled music.

"One last service to me tonight, slave. Dance as you would if you were a stripper seducing crowds of women who wanted your cock. Be a tease. Don't stop until I tell you." My body began swaying, thrusting, and gyrating like I had seen strippers do it in movies. My hands caressed my chest, my aching balls, my swollen prick. I felt the floor move under me, but I couldn't stop dancing. The curtain rose up, revealing to me that I was in a large stainless steel cage, thirty feet above the dance floor. All around the club were other men in similar cages, all doing similar dances. My mind was flooded with music, and all I could think of was my dance.

I don't know how long it was before it stopped. The cages were lowered to the floor, and Mistress Dana let me out. "Very good, slave. You may stop." My body dropped from exhaustion.

"Well, only one thing more before our evening is ended. You've been very good tonight, and we like to reward all slaves. Follow me." Again she motioned, and again I followed behind. She led me to an alcove off the main club floor. A figure squatted inside, and I could see that it wore a stainless steel chastity belt which made it look sexless, and a matching stainless steel hood which left only the bottom of the nose and the mouth exposed. I couldn't tell if it was male or female; budding breasts and lips in bright red lipstick would lead me to believe the latter, but the broadness of the shoulders and the size of the hands I thought it could be male. It had no body hair that I could see.

"Slave, this is the servitor. The servitor provides relief for slaves and personal servants. The servitor is only here to please."

I quickly caught the gist of her intent, but for some reason this person in front of me didn't look exactly willing. "I thank you for the offer, Mistress Dana, but I respectfully decline." It wasn't true. I ached like I had never cum in my whole life but, after having been drugged into performing sexual acts, I wasn't going to do that to somebody, anybody, else..

"So be it. I have to exact my measure from you and, since you decline my gift, we will do things the hard way." She reached down and grabbed my balls, and undid the straps which held my cock. It sprung forth with a rush of blood, and my knees went weak. I made a mental note to have my blood pressure checked because of the way my knees buckled whenever I was with these weird women. Mistress Dana pulled me forward against the wall, and quickly jerked me to a rough orgasm. Just as I was about to come, she let go, ruining the effect for me. There was no pleasure for me as cum dribbled from the end of my cock to be caught in an empty glass she grabbed from the bar. Mistress Dana then proceeded to milk my cock, her deft hands wringing every drop of my juice out of me. I quickly became oversensitive, and her rough handling became very painful.

"PLEASE STOP, Mistress Dana!"

She gave my member a few more tugs, then refastened it in it's harness. "Next time I offer you something, you will take it and like it. If a Mistress ever gives you an order, you will follow it immediately, no matter how repulsive. Understand?"

"Yes, Mistress Dana." She led me back to the entrance. I felt her hand replace the large stud earrings with small, gold and diamond ones. "Now get out of here. You did well, but I think the drugs were a big part of that. If I ever have to train you again, I'll do it with a whip and rack." I had no doubt I would rather not experience that. I walked down the corridor to the steel door. This night was different; I realized I had been brought here to learn, not to be experimented on. Looking back, I discovered most of my nights were learning experiences.

I was being trained, but for what, I didn't know.

The door swung open as I approached; once I passed through, it slammed shut behind me. I went over to the bushes only to find my clothes gone. My wallet, now empy of it's cash, lay a few feet away. I was glad that I had left the car keys in a hide-a-key in the bumper.

* * * * * * * * * *

My car's vinyl seat was cold against my bare ass. I tossed my wallet on the other seat, and started her up. It was late, and would have to make up some time in order to not draw to much attention to myself with my wife.

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 to dance."

"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, and my body took 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?" She was trying hard not to laugh out loud.

"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 aggressively, 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 and moaned. Her hips thrust upward while her hands grabbed the back of my head and mashed my face into groin. Her grip relaxed as I work hard on her, and I drew out her second orgasm until she finally cried out for release. 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. She grabbed the leather bits. "I'll take that, as evidence."

I walked back to my car and got in, still wrapped in the light blanket. 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. My wife called in to my workplace and told them that I wouldn't be in tomorrow.

* * * * * * * * * *

Thursday, June 20th

The next morning I went out for the newspaper, and sat on the front stoop while I read it. It was beautiful outside; warm without the stickiness of the approaching summer. It was sunny and the warmth felt good. I idly flipped through the pages of the local rag. For just a moment I could forget about things...things that had been done to me. I sat there and enjoyed my time in the normal world.

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 over the next few months as the team reports came out.

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 black box wrapped in a bright red bow. I dropped the paper and reached for the 'present'. Inside was the harness, the cuffs, and the hood from the previous night, all nicely cleaned. There were also two DVDs this time. The first was in a black box, entitled, 'Slave to Pussy: One man's story' and the other 'Bad Boyz: Erotic tales of the Highway Patrol'.

* * * * * * * * * *

Friday, June 21st

I told my wife that, on a whim, I had decided to get my ears pierced. One of the exhibitors at a show had somehow convinced me that it was the thing to do. She thought it odd, but decided to help me by telling me how to keep holes clean and free from infection until they healed properly. She did comment that, while she knew I was going through a few changes, she wanted to make sure that we discussed and further unusual activities prior to their occurance.

I think I am developing an ulcer from the guilt that is eating away at the lining of my stomach. My only saving grace is that the entire affair (for lack of a better word) will be over soon. Not soon enough, but soon.

* * * * * * * * * *

Saturday, June 22nd

For the loving care my wife had given me Wednesday night and Thursday, I tried out my new expertise on her this evening. I got no complaints, a slightly bewildered look, and a comment that she would have to figure out a way to pay be back.

* * * * * * * * * *

Tuesday, June 25th

I have been more than excited (and also a little relieved and depressed at the same time) at the approaching Wednesday. I have successfully kept the happenings of the past seven Wednesdays a secret from my wife, and tonight would make the eighth and final night. On that initial Wednesday I played racquetball and was led into a forced sexual encounter. I had also been forced in to agreeing to play a part in seven more 'episodes'. Tonight was the seventh and last.

There was no way that I could honestly say that I hadn't enjoyed at least parts of what had happened to me. I had been given single nights of depravity that matched anything I had ever read in the kinkiest of fantasies I had collected.

I learn that fantasy and reality are two totally different concepts. Fantasy worlds are sort of like the elation you feel as you fall out of an airplane; elation, fear, and an unreal endorphin rush that you wouldn't mind living over and over again. Reality is the ground that stops your fall.

I had quickly discovered that there were two huge drawbacks to my new reality. The first was the completely overwhelming and crushing guilt of what I had done and might do to my wife and our relationship if she ever found out. That guilt went a long way in extinguishing the pleasure I had gotten from the kinky activities, and I was actually paying far more in depression than I had received in pleasure.

The second was the knowledge that, had I been given the opportunity to do any or all of these things *before* I had committed to my current monogamous lifestyle, I would most likely have slipped completely into a world of lust and depraved sex. What made it so bad was I was no longer sure which option I would have taken, given a choice of the two possible futures.

* * * * * * * * * *

Wednesday, June 26th

I found the package on the front porch when I got home from work today. It was tall and thin, like a box for a stand up mirror. Before anybody could see me, I pulled it inside and lugged it upstairs. It wasn't so much heavy as it was unwieldy. I slid it into the back of the hall closet until the fateful time for that evening arrived.

* * * * * * * * * *

We had salads for dinner that night. My wife told me that instead of her aerobics and 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. Despite everything I had done over the last two months, she was my wife and I was jealous of her time. She reassured me that the client was a female and that I had nothing to worry about.

I realized then how low I had sunk. Each of these escapades was eroding the fabric of my relationship with my wife. With each act of debauchery, I was seperating myself from her even further. I thought it odd that, despite my pangs of jealousy towards my wife, I was willing to do anything to make sure she wasn't hurt. If she ever found out, we would be through. I tried to put the feelings behind me.

When she came downstairs after changing I felt my heart leap. I hadn't truly noticed before, but 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 a new business suit and heels, and her make-up was done just right. Again I felt jealous. She rarely, if ever, wore heels, despite how good she looked in them. And when she did, they were never for my benefit. The overall package of beauty in front of me was created for somebody else, and I admit I whined a bit about the fact.

"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 that first night when I was in Tara's artwork, only this time there was no 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, my erection didn't tent the tuxedo pants. Well, not much. The mask, adhering to my face my Tara's magic chemicals, would give me some anonymity. I searched the box for a note, and found it inside the tux jacket. It simply gave a time a few hours from now. I 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 of the passenger compartment 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'. Go figure. Captain Obvious figures out another mystery. As I walked up to the doors, my limo pulled away.

Inside, the store lived up to it's name. Mannequins, 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, and headed 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 separated 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 rows of comfortable chairs; many were filled with women and men dressed similarly to me. My escort directed me to a specific open seat, and I twisted my way through the intervening attendees.