Freebie Ch. 03

"Can I choose this one?"

"Certainly madam. His name is Gregory. So you can call him Greg if you wish."

I looked back to the man I'd chosen,

"What do you prefer?"

He didn't answer, but the other man did,

"It's your choice madam; he isn't allowed to have an opinion."

"Ok, Greg it is. Will you take my arm Greg?"

As he stepped forwards and slipped his arm through mine, the other man asked,

"And how should he address you, Madam, Mrs Kendal or would you like him to use your first name?"

"Well Mary is my name, so I think that would be just fine."

"Ok Greg, can you escort Mrs Kendal to the dance floor."

He then made eye contact with me as he said,

"I hope you have a wonderful evening. If there is anything else you need just get Greg to contact me."

As he escorted me back along the corridors, I said,

"Now old sour puss has gone, what name do you really want me to call you?"

"I'm sorry, but I'm not allowed to get personal. If they found out, I'd get the sack."

"Oh come on. I can't enjoy myself if you're going to be a stuffed shirt."

"Well providing you don't let on; my mates call me Trav."

"Trav, how on earth did you get that from Gregory, or is that your middle name?"

"No it's nothing to do with my name; it was just a name from my teens. When I was going to dance classes, my mates all used to take the pi... Oh I'm sorry. I mean the used to kid me, saying I was like John Travolta. And I guess the name stuck."

"So you like dancing?"

"My god yes, if I was better at it, I'd have been a pro. But although I try, I'll never make it big time. And you? Are you just here to enjoy yourself, or are you here to compete?"

"To have a good time and relax. Why is there a competition on tonight?"

"Yes, it's the Latin American sessions tonight. I thought with your dress, maybe you were going to enter."

"No, the dress was... oh maybe that's a story for another time. But no, I didn't even know there would be a competition on tonight."

"But do you dance?"

"Yes."

"I mean competition style?"

"Well I trained, but that was years ago, and I haven't even been on the floor for ages."

At this point we were back in the ballroom and just walking onto the floor,

"Ok, let's see how much you remember."

He started cautiously, and although it had been so long since I last danced, real dancing that is, it was, as they say, like riding a bike. From the moment I felt him pulling my body up against his, and I felt that guiding push from his hip, the steps just seemed to come without even thinking about it. Within just the first few steps, it was like going back all those years, and it felt so wonderful gliding around the floor. By the time the first dance had finished, which by the way had been a waltz, it was almost as though we'd been partners for months. And then as the band struck up again, and as the Foxtrot started, we were off. During this dance he tentatively tried one or two of the more flamboyant movements, and I instinctively responded as he threw me into a spin at the end of each movement.

As I glanced around, it became obvious people seated around the dance floor were beginning to take notice of us, as were one or two of the other dancers. As the dance ended, Trav said,

"Well you certainly haven't forgotten how to dance. Now would you like to enter for the competition later?"

"Don't be silly. I'm just enjoying myself, it's been so long, and I hadn't realised just how much I'd missed the feeling of floating around like that. You're such a good lead; I don't think I've ever had a partner as experienced as you."

"Don't sell yourself short. You don't need me to lead you, you're a natural dancer."

"Thank you. But as I said, I'm only here to enjoy myself tonight."

"No reason why you can't do that, and at the same time make some money."

"What money?"

"This is a preliminary for next years dance show on TV, and this is big business. The prise money for just this one section, the Latin American; is worth five hundred."

"You have to be kidding?"

"No. And I think there's an outside chance we could take that prise."

"No way. I'm so out of practice."

"But I can tell you're a real dancer. All you need is some advice on the flashy stuff."

"What do you mean?"

"Most of this lot are new to the game, and they are nearly all relying on the glitz and glamour to impress the judges. You already know how to dance; now you just need a few flashy moves."

"But we wouldn't have time to practice."

"Hang on, if you wait here for just a few minutes, I'll go and make some inquiries."

With that he was gone, and I sat alone at my table. I was only alone for a few minutes, before Trav returned with another man.

"This is William, he runs a dance class."

"Hi, Mary isn't it?"

"Yes, I don't know what Trav has told you, but I never was that good, and I'm way out of practice."

"Well if you'd like to take to the floor, I'll only need to see you do a couple of circuits, and then I'll tell you what I think."

Trav took my hand,

"Come on; let's show him what you can do."

So off we went, and even though in my own mind I didn't believe I was that good, I knew, good or not, this was something that really gave me pleasure. So I just let myself be guided by Trav, and didn't attempt to inhibit the normally hidden extrovert side of my nature.

When we arrived back at the table, William was full of praise, and he hurriedly ushered us off along the corridors, and into a small dance studio. It had three walls lined with mirrors, two of which had a dance support bar running along their length. We three were the only ones in the room, and he didn't waste any time in explaining the situation to me.

"What you lack is the 'New style', but it is obvious, you already have the dancing itself well and truly mastered. But what you'll be mostly up against out there is girls who can't really dance, but have been practicing the style, and flamboyant movements. Now I can show you quickly a few of the modern movements, which are all based upon the principle of using sexually provocative poses to wow the judges, and of course, once you appear on TV, the viewer. I could see from that brief step around the floor you are not afraid to use your body, and if you put out the poses with enough unashamed daring, I'm sure you are in with a chance of getting at least into the top three."

"You really think so?"

"Yes; but as with all these things, it is the connection between you and the judges that makes the final deciding factor. Don't eye them directly, but surreptitious glances, and coy flirting usually wins votes."

"I'm not sure I can do that."

"Well that's up to you, of course. Now let's show you how to display yourself, without making it look too blatant."

We spent only about fifteen minutes, but in that time he got Trav to throw me in slow motion into various positions. And as I'd roll or twist from Trav's arms, William would manoeuvre my body and even legs into a pose he wanted me to take. Then he said,

"Ok, I think you've got enough ideas there, just go out and dance your socks off, using which ever of the poses I've shown you that you feel comfortable with. But remember, look happy, try to look natural, and if you catch the eye of a judge, flirt. Now go and have fun."

We were soon out on the floor and even with these new poses, I just let myself go, exposing my assets, such as they were, for all to see. Not that our dancing was any more extrovert than the other professional dancers, but just more than I was used to. I guess we had almost thirty minutes on the floor before the announcement came over the speakers,

"Ladies and gentlemen. We are pleased to announce the first section of our Latin American dance competition. So if you can all return to your tables, we will then get our competition couples on the floor and the show can begin. Oh and if there are any couples out there who have not yet registered, and want to compete, please make sure you do so before taking to the floor. Thank you, and now we will have the first dance."

As the floor cleared, and the band struck up with the first dance, Trav said,

"Ok Mary; lets show them what we can do."

"But we haven't registered."

"That's been taken care of, come on."

So without any further talking we were off. He danced so effortlessly, and his confident manner somehow began to influence me and my ability. By the time the first round had been judged, they whittled the initial thirty plus couples down to just six; and we were one of that six. This in itself was way beyond what I could have expected, and even this achievement helped to boost my confidence.

So now as each dance began the judges only had six couples to follow, and this, of course, meant their appraisal could be a lot more critical. Throughout this session, I did make a conscious effort to engage either of the two male judges in fleeting eye contact. And although I say it myself, I felt I was successful in this undertaking on several occasions with both men individually. But then as we got towards the end of the round, I think the not knowing how well we were doing, coupled with my lack of experience, began to show. At one point as Trav span me around, I missed my footing, and in the resultant trip, my hand slipped from his grip. I sprawled across the floor, and came to rest only a few feet from the platform where the judges were seated, so there wasn't even a chance I'd gotten away with my blunder without being seen.

Trav was instantly down by my side, and his expert movements as he lifted me back to my feet could in a normal dance, have almost led onlookers to think this was part of a deliberate movement. But it was obvious to the judges, that I'd made a gaffe. As I was being helped to my feet, my eyes met up with one of these judges; and although it is impossible to be sure. The look he gave me, didn't convey 'You stupid girl', but more 'I want to have sex with you'. As I say, that is just my interpretation, and I could have been wild of the Mark.

The round ended, and there was the usual build-up to the announcement of the two couples who would go on to the grand finale later in the evening. I guess you won't be surprised to find out, Trav and I were chosen as one of these two. But I for one was absolutely flabbergasted, and I even came over in a mild faint, requiring Trav to slip his arm around my back, and take my weight as he helped me back to our table. Even the judge who was doing the announcements noticed, and asked over the microphone if I was alright. This I can tell you didn't help my situation, and only served to make me blush bright red as the spot light picked me out for all to see.

But once the dance floor was returned to normal dancing, and I was again alone with Trav, I soon regained my composure, and had just settled down to drink the glass of wine he'd ordered for me, when Gerry arrived at the table.

"So. Was I right to bring you here or do you still think we should have gone to the Marriott?"

I'd been having such a wonderful time, I'd forgotten about the earlier argument about our venue for the night. But I reluctantly replied,

"Yes, you were right. We can go out for a romantic evening on our own any night."

Then Gerry asked, while looking at Trav,

"So are you two going to win the big prize tonight?"

"Well sir, I'll do my best, and if I don't let your wife down, then she has every chance of going home a winner."

Just then the man who'd arrived at our table earlier asking if I required a dancing partner, re-appeared at our table. We later found out this was the ballroom manager. He walked directly up to Gerry, and taking him to one side, they began to talk. With the volume of the music, I couldn't hear what was being said, but Gerry turned and as he held his hand out towards me, he said,

"Come on, looks like you've attracted the attention of some kind of big-wig."

Still seated, I asked,

"Who? And what does he want?"

"Don't look so suspicious. He's a Japanese business man. Very rich, he owns one of the biggest manufacturing companies in Japan."

"So what? Why would he want to meet us?"

Gerry lent across and whispered in my ear,

"He owns this place. And he just wants to meet you."

"But I don't want to meet him. I'm happy where I am."

Gerry again whispered in my ear,

"He can fix the result of the dance competition."

"So what does he want in return?"

Again in a whisper,

"Keep your voice down. Don't be so silly, if he can fix it for you to win, if we don't go, he could also fix it so you to loose."

"So?"

"It's five hundred quid. Since when did you get so rich you could turn your nose up at that sort of money?"

"That depends on what he expects in return."

"Don't be silly. In a place like this? You've been watching too many films."

Then as he gave my hand a tug,

"Now come on."

I let myself be led to my feet, and off we went following in the managers footsteps. We entered a lift, and then as the doors opened on the first floor, we walked out into the most sumptuous of apartments. All around we men dressed in traditional Japanese male attire, some even had swords. It was almost like Gerry had just said, a film set. But for some reason, the sight of these men dressed this way felt threatening. Nothing you could put your finger on, but never the less, I felt a shiver of fear go down my spine.

We were ushered across to one side of the room where there was a glass window running the full length of this wall, and seated looking outwards was a tiny man, also dressed in traditional Japanese clothes. But his robes were obviously very expensive cloth, and they shimmered with gold and silver threads inlaid into the material. As we arrived at his side, his seat turned, and his eyes looked me up and down. This in itself reinforced my apprehension, as his gaze was one of a lecher invading every inch as he scanned. I instantly turned my head to avoid he eyes as they reached my face. In that few seconds, I was staring out of the window, and from this vantage point had a panoramic view of the whole dance floor.

My trance was broken by the little man's sharp and shrill voice as he snapped out something in Japanese. The manager then spoke, translating for the little man, but in a manner that led me to think he was almost afraid of him.

"Quickly! Turn and bow to Mr Aioka. He thinks you're being discourteous."

I turned to face him, and lowered my head in a half-hearted show of servitude. The manager then said,

"No. Like this, and lower your eyes; it's not your place to look him in the face."

As he spoke he had placed both his hands together in front of his chest, as if praying, as he bowed his body low. I looked at Gerry, and then as I began to turn towards the door I said,

"He can go take a running jump. I'm off."

The manager's face was horror struck, and Gerry just looked confused. But before I'd moved one step, four of the men who'd up until this moment, been just standing near the outside of the room; made a dash towards Gerry and I. I'd only moved a few feet before a man at each side of me had taken hold of an arm apiece, and returned me back in front of Mr Aioka. Gerry was also being held, and he was now in a position just to my side. The manager then said,

"They'll release you if you promise to do as you're told."

I was furious, and I looked at Gerry to see what his reaction was. But he just said,

"Come on, all you have to do is bow to him, it's just their way."

So reluctantly, I said,

"Ok tell his goons to let me go."

The manager didn't need to pass the message on; both men instantly released my arms. I put my hands together, and gave him a low bow, remembering not to look him in the eye. A smile appeared on Mr Aioka's face, and then he again spoke. But I had no idea what he'd said. The manager translated,

"He would like you to slip your dress off your shoulders."

"I'll bet he would. Tell him to go f... Tell him no."

The manager spoke to Gerry,

"Please, tell her to do as he asks. If she doesn't, you'll both end up regretting it."

Gerry looked perplexed, but before just passing the instruction on to me, he asked,

"If I get her to do that? How much further is he going to expect her to go?"

"It doesn't matter how far. If he wants her dead. By tomorrow morning, she'll be lying dead and naked in a ditch somewhere. I don't think you understand who you're dealing with."

Gerry obviously didn't like what he heard,

"Hang on; we didn't come up here for this sod to just do as he pleases with us."

"You still don't get it. If Mr Aioka wants something, no matter whom or what it is; he gets it. Don't make it hard for yourselves."

"So if we don't cooperate, what does he think he's gonna do?"

Gerry had hardly finished his sentence, before the men holding him, pulled his arms out into a crucifix stance, and while they held him, another man came and lowered his trousers and pants. Then a fourth man appeared with a knife similar to a cut-throat razor, but this knife wasn't a foldable type, and had a fixed wooden handle. As the shiny steel blade caught the light and flashed, my heart dropped. The man had taken hold of Gerry's penis, and was now holding the blade against the flesh. Gerry was, of course, trying to struggle, but avoiding any lower body movements.

I didn't hesitate, and as I began to peel my dress from my shoulders, I begged,

"Tell him to take his knife off Gerry."

"You just concentrate on pleasing Mr Aioka, and your husband won't get hurt."

I'd dropped the top of my dress, and it now hung open down either side of my hips, the top of my body being covered by the bodice, come bra. Mr Aioka again gave a smug grin, and then again spoke out some instruction. Assuming it was an instruction for me to remove more clothing, I asked,

"Ok what's the little pig want now?"

My heart leapt into my mouth as the man who was holding the knife against Gerry's penis, slashed out, drawing his blade across the top of Gerry's naked leg. The blood just poured down Gerry's leg, and I realised these men understood English, and were reacting to my remark about their boss. My first thought on seeing his hand movement, and the blood that followed, was that he had indeed sliced off Gerry's penis, but as I looked across, although serious enough, it was obvious this was just a warning. I clasped my hands together, and as I bowed low and humbly, I pleaded,

"Please forgive me. Please don't hurt my Gerry. I'll do what ever you want."

The manager now spoke,

"That was foolish of you. Now remove your dress, and use it to stop the bleeding."

I hurriedly ripped off my dress, and struggled to tear it into strips to use as bandages. The material wouldn't rip, and I had to hold it out towards the man with the knife, and ask,

"Can you cut it please?"

This he did, and once he'd made a short cut, I was then able to tear it. I repeated this a couple more times, each time asking for it to be cut. And then on my knees, I first cleaned the wound, and then bandaged it.

Luckily, it wasn't deep, and although it had looked like a lot of blood loss, as soon as I'd wrapped the bandage around it, it reduced to a slight trickle, and very soon it stopped altogether. But as soon as I'd completed my rudimentary first aid, the manager said.

"Ok, now thank Mr Aioka for allowing you to do that."

I followed instructions, again clasping my hands together, and pleading,

"Please forgive me. I'm sorry if I caused offence."

His face again turned into a smile, but the kind of smile that doesn't encourage a feeling of safety. Then he spoke, and as before the manager passed on his orders.

"He would like to see your tits."

I put my hands to the bottom of the bodice, and lifted it allowing my breasts to fall free, and held it there so he could look at them.