A number of years ago, I published a series of stories in a series entitled, "The Twighlight Zone". The stories were all linked to a sex toy/lingerie shop and club of the same name. The first of the stories and the inspiration for the series began in "The Wedding Present", already posted here. Each chapter had it's own characters and plot, though all revolved around the shop and it's goods. As things progressed, the characters and situations got more and more fantastic, with elements of science fiction creeping in. Finally, a computer meltdown caused the loss of the last chapter in the series, and I never recovered.
Recently, a budding author tracked me down, and has convinced/cajoled me to write again. I am in the process of re-editing the original series, as well as some short stories and new works, and will publishing them as time permits. I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I enjoyed writing them.
This is the first in the actual series.
part 1: The Shop
Carol looked out the passenger window again, across the parking lot at the store at the end of the cul-de-sac. Just thinking about going in there was making her nervous. Hell, she thought, just sitting in the parking lot was making her nervous. How was she going to get herself inside?
Not that she would be the only one there. The lot was half filled with cars, attesting to the popularity of the store. Whoever owned the store had chosen a perfect spot; one of the old 'company' buildings from the city's boomtown eras, it was accessible yet secluded. Even so, Carol was nervous that somebody would recognize her. Again she looked out the window at the non-descript store. A few mannequins posed in the windows in skimpy costumes, a hint of what lay inside. A huge walnut and leaded glass led to the secrets that lay behind. Over the door was painted the name: The Twighlight Zone. Underneath was written: The store with the exotic twist. Only, the 'x' was written ambiguously enough that it could make the word 'erotic'.
A porn shop, or at least as close as this city would get to a porn shop. Rumor had it that any type of clothing or sexual toy could be had in there. A treasure trove of delights. And therein lied her problem. If she was seen going in there, it would be admitting to the world that she and her husband had sex, and that she was willing to add some spice to it. If she were seen she would be branded as a slut.
Carol thought it over for the hundredth time that afternoon. She wasn't doing it for herself, she knew. She did it for Thomas, her husband. Just a little something to thrill him on their anniversary. Steeling herself, she got out of the car and headed for the front door. Nobody would see her. Nobody had better see her. Her pace quickened as she started up the steps. Was it difficult for men to walk into pornography shops? The rush of adrenaline, the racing heart, the sweaty palms?
Just as she reached the front door it opened, and Carol nearly turned and ran back to the car when she realized it was a doorman opening the door so she could enter. Ducking her head in thanks and in a vain attempt not to be seen, Carol hurried inside. And stopped dead in her tracks just a few feet inside the door.
The store was huge. Huge like a major mall store. Far beyond what she had expected, or thought could exist, given the store front. Marble and carpet covered the floors, and racks of clothes surrounded her. It was so far beyond what she expected that Carol stood in the entryway, mouth agape.
"Ma'am? May I help you?"
"Excuse me?" Carol turned to the saleslady that had come up beside her. She was dressed in a sharp business suit. Again, not what Carol had expected.
"I asked if I could help you. You have the look of a first timer."
"Well, yes, but I think I would like to look around by myself. Thank you."
"Quite alright, ma'am. If you have any questions, feel free to ask. My name's Janice."
Carol hadn't taken three steps into the bizarre store before she turned to find Janice, who was straightening lingerie on a nearby rack.
"Janice? I think maybe I could use a little help. All this rubber and leather and whatnot is all very confusing to me. I just wanted to get something to, um, I mean, it's for my husband." Carol blushed deeply.
"That's quite alright, ma'am. Let me show you what we have; The Twighlight Zone prides itself on satisfying every customer, or your money back." Janice beamed at Carol, pride showing in her face. Carol calmed a bit.
"Before we go too far, Janice, I was wondering if you could tell me about the name. You know, what with the television show, and everything."
Janice smiled again. "Actually, ma'am, we don't have anything to do with the show. The owner is from Europe, and had never seen the show. She wanted a name that conveyed a feeling between day and night, between light and dark. When the creatures of the dark come forth. A twighlight time, and thus a twighlight zone."
"You make it sound so...I don't know, almost malicious."
Janice let out a little laugh. "In a way it is, ma'am. We at the Zone realize that our products are about the loss of innocence. Traditionally, the role of hedonists. What most people come to realize, though, is that we are here to help improve relationships, whatever type they may be."
Carol smiled weakly in response. She didn't really think of this store as a relationship aid. "Hedonism is quite the word. Everything here reeks of sex."
"I assure you, ma'am, none of our products have been used and, except for the leather, has been de-scented as far as possible."
Carol was caught, and laughed a bit at herself. "I meant that it all has an essence of sex."
"Sorry, ma'am. It's just that some people are very accusatory when they come in here. Sometimes I get a little defensive, and I apologize. Let's get back to the reason you are here: a present for your husband. Did you mean you wanted something to wear for your husband, or something for your husband to wear?"
"You have clothing for men? As in lingerie?"
"Yes, ma'am. In fact, we are currently running a special package deal called, 'Seven Saturdays to complete Sexual Slavery". It comes with costumes, make-up, and sex toys, along with an instruction manual on how to sexually enslave your man. It's been a very popular item."
"Slave? You mean, it turns my husband into my slave? I don't think I want that."
"It's meant to make a female the dominant partner in a sexual relationship by playing on a male's sexual fantasies. There are some drawbacks. Not every women can handle or even desires the responsibility of constantly being in charge of her husband. Also, some men get too far into the fantasy and refuse to return to the former relationship. They have too much fun."
"Fun as a slave?"
"Yes ma'am. The lack of decision making responsibilities is a strong sexual fantasy among many men. Being tied up, sexual deprivation, the whole leather and boots thing."
"I had wondered about that. I never understood it, though."
"Many women don't, ma'am. They wonder what the attraction is, and are afraid to try it. Some really get into it, some decide they don't like it. The reason we suggest it, at least once, is that as a dominant a woman can order her mate to tell her about his fantasies. From there, she can match up elements with her own fantasies and improve her sex life."
Carol smiled again. Thomas was a little repressed, she thought. Maybe something a little out of the ordinary was called for. "Hmm. The way you put it, I might have to give it a try. Show me what else you have."
* * * * * * * * * *
Janice led Carol through the front section of the store, where racks of silk and lace lingerie crowded the aisles. As they moved deeper into the store, they encountered more and more customers, each attended by one or more salespeople. Many were filling baskets or writing on notepads. They reached the center of the store, and Carol noticed that the store was laid out like a wagon wheel with aisle spokes separating each section. Lingerie that you might find in a Victoria's Secret store. Leather outfits. Clothes made of rubber. Bondage devices. Toys. Electronics. Other sections that Carol could only imagine.
"Ma'am?" Carol snapped back to reality. "It can be a little overwhelming, at first. Have you decided if the gift is to be for you or your husband, or would you like something for both of you?"
"Um, I thought maybe a little slave girl outfit. Or maybe something to tie him down with. Oh, I don't know. Help!" Carol laughed in exasperation. "It's for our tenth wedding anniversary, and we're possibly going to the shore for two weeks. I just wanted something to add a little bang to the beginning, if you catch my drift.
"I think I know what might do. Have a seat in here, and I'll bring some items back for you." Janice led her to a changing area, then retreated into the store.
Carol looked around her, at the people and the clothing. Ten minutes ago she was merely a housewife; now she was a sexual deviant. She looked at a mannequin dressed head to toe in a zippered leather body suit complete with spike heeled boots. How could anybody walk in those things? Carol walked over to get a better look, and realized that the mannequin was breathing. She was so startled, she jumped back and bumped right into Janice.
"There's somebody in there!" Carol blurted out in surprise. "Yes, ma'am. All the mannequin's you see are actually models. If you would prefer not to try on a piece of clothing, or if you would like to see how something would look on a certain body type, they are here for your shopping pleasure."
Carol took another look around the store, paying closer attention to where the 'mannequins' were. A male in the 'toys' area was trussed in chains and had his mouth filled with a bright red ball. She thought of herself dressed in the zippered leather outfit, with Thomas all trussed up and unable to protest as she teased and tormented him. He always did talk too much and ruin the mood. She would be in control for once. Maybe be just use his body for her own. Maybe she should try this dominance thing.
