## Dance M/f

Post by lasse672000 » Tue Mar 13, 2012 6:44 am

15 year old Maria, dressed in a pink leotard, and matching pantyhose, stepped into the changing room, after having completed an extra, early morning session, to get her dance routine for the performance she and a couple of her mates were going to give in a few day time, working. “This’ll be as good as it gets, I suppose,” she thought. She noticed the locker-room lights were turned off. “Now, that’s strange! They’re never turned off.” She reached for the light switch to turn them back on. Suddenly, a hand was clamped hard over her mouth, and a female voice whispered in her ear:”Nice routine you’ve got going there. How about practicing it before a live audience?”
“Where did she come from? How long have she been here for? Where’ve she been hiding? Who was she?”The questions tumbled over themselves in Maria’s mind, but when she tried to put them into words, the only sounds coming out were:”MMMPH, MOOOOPH”. She felt something cold being slammed against her wrist, followed by it being forced behind her back. Shocked, she suddenly realized she was being handcuffed, by a second person. The hand clamped over her mouth suddenly disappeared, but she was too stunned to make any noise, anyway. Something large, round and rubbery was forced between her teeth, completely filling her mouth. It was buckled behind her head, and she was forced to start walking out of the locker room, and out the back entrance.
Outside was a van, and she was forced to climb in the back space and sit down on the floor. Then the van sped off, with screeching tyres.
A woman, whom she was sure she’d never seen before, sat down next to her, and introduced herself as Sarah. She was in her late forties, maybe early fifties, quite tall and athletic-looking. “Don’t be scared,” she said, “we’re not going to hurt you. Not as long as you do as you’re told, that is. I suppose you’re wondering, where we’re going? I’m afraid I can’t tell you that, but I CAN promise you’ll be returned safe and sound. Once you’ve done whatever it is, you’re supposed to do, that is. Now! I’m afraid I’ll have to blindfold you for the rest of the journey.” She reached into a bag sitting next to her on the floor and took out a long scarf, which she wound around Marias’ head several times, blocking out all light. None of them said another word for the duration of the trip.
The van eventually stopped, and she was forced out, up some stairs, and into a great room. The blindfold was taken off. When her eyes had adjusted themselves to the light, she saw she was in a room, which seemed to belong to a castle. In an easy-chair by the fire-place sat an elderly man, with grey hair. Beside him, on a small table, lay a large, and heavy, metal-ring with a long chain welded on to it, some screws and a screw-driver. Gesturing her to sit down on the floor in front of him, he seemed to try to get a good look at her. Not in a sleazy way, just out of curiosity. Another gesture; and someone came up from behind and took the gag out of her mouth.
“That was nice, wasn’t it, my dear?” he asked, in such a way, he might just as well been talking to a not-too-clever child. “Getting rid of that horrible, horrible gag, I mean. You see, this way we can have a proper conversation, as civilized people have. Now, there is one thing sadly missing from your costume.” He picked up the ring, and despite her trying all she could to get away, fastened it around her neck.
“You really do know how to put up a fight! That’s my work out done for today! You have a lot of muscles and agility, in that tiny body of yours,” He reached around to her back to unlock the cuffs. He then told her to stand up. Holding on to the chain, he ordered her to show him some of her dance-moves. Afraid he’d hurt her if she refused, she showed him most of the routine she had been practicing that morning. Due to the heaviness of the chain and the lack of music, the performance wasn’t as fluent as she had hoped for, but it seemed to satisfy the old man.
“Good! You keep practicing, because in a few days, I’m going to put on a show, you being the star attraction.” He made yet another gesture. Sarah reappeared, took the chain from his hands, and lead Sarah to a windowless room. She fastened the chain, using a pad-lock, to one already hanging from middle of the ceiling. She could move about the room, just about, but not leave it.
After Sarah left, Maria sat down on the sheet-less bed, and finally started crying.
The following six days, she never left her cell, except for practicing four or five hours a day. She could hear faint music coming from other rooms, but she never saw, or heard, anyone else. Besides the ring around her neck, her hands were always cuffed behind her back, going to and from the practice-sessions. She managed not to get entangled in the chain despite her jumping around and doing somersaults. When she was back in her cell the first day, she was actually quite proud of that fact.
The day of the performance finally came. Early that night, she was given a new leotard and pantyhose, absolutely littered with multi-coloured tinsel. She looked at it in disgust, but had no choice, but to put it on.
Seeing herself in the full-length mirror in her room, she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “That is quite possibly the most distasteful and horrible costume ever created!” she said, safe in the knowledge she was completely and utterly alone in the room. “No! No, not ‘quite possibly’ “, she corrected herself, “it IS the most distasteful and horrible costume ever created. Anywhere! By anyone! The only thing missing now is for someone to put a tinsel-coating all over my collar. If that happens, I don’t know if I dare go on stage tonight. But, I suppose he wouldn’t give me much of a choice. So, come on, girl! Do the best you can, and the rest be damned.” Sitting down, she realized she’d probably get her arse severely tinsel-marked, by the end of the day.
To her dismay and horror, when they came for her a couple of hours later, they did put a tinsel-coating on over the collar. She was grabbed by the arms and more or less dragged through a corridor. Before she went on the stage, her chain was locked onto one, already hanging by the side of the stage.
The following morning, she suffered severe set-back, when Sarah told her she’d have to stay for a few more performances, in a couple of days’ time.
Actually, when she was finally brought back home, more than a month had passed, and she had worked her way through eight pairs of pantyhose.
Whazzzz up!.