The Dance

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One view of the dance steps to submission & acceptance.
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The Dance is not so much a short story as an experience. In this lifestyle, reactions are as varied as the participants. This is the "story" of one dance.

It is almost time for the dance and all the preparations have been made. The temperature in the low lit room is slightly cool. Candles burn and cast their illumination around the outer walls. A slight fragrance of cinnamon and cloves permeates the air. In the middle of the room is an empty space, the perfect dance floor. The cuffs that dangle from the ceiling complete the room.

There is nothing more beautiful than the dance. The dancers move together in perfect harmony. Each comes alive with every movement and expression. It is a delicate balance of steps, moves, reactions and passion. And although the dance follows a routine, it is nonetheless a new and wonderful experience each time. The dance encompasses all. Even the viewers are drawn to its intensity and wonderment.

There are no spectators tonight. This will be a private dance. Even in the knowledge that no one will be watching, the dancers take great care in their preparations. The dance deserves their consideration and attention to detail. To do otherwise would be an injustice. Respect the dance and it will reward you tenfold.

The two dancers enter the room and the candle flames flicker in a gasp. The costumes have not disappointed. The man stands tall and proud. His bare chest almost glistens in the delicate lighting. He turns slightly and his powerful back is cast into the light. His torso is firm and ends at the leather pants that fit snug. They are a line of perfection stopping at the top of the heavy leather boots that don his feet. In one hand, he holds a valued crop; his favorite and only the best for this moment. His other hand reaches out, palm up, to his partner.

Again, the candles draw breath. Before them stands a woman, glorious in her nakedness. Her head is held high in esteem, both in herself and of the dance. She has pinned her long auburn hair up on her head so as not to tangle or interfere with the movements that will come. Dark round eyes are outlined with deep charcoal, allowing their expression to shine through. A warm rosy glow highlights her cheeks. Her lips, full and luscious, are colored only slightly, emphasizing their natural look.

The long line of her neck is graceful and leads to equally delicate shoulders. Her rosy nipples stand erect on her small breasts, both from the coolness of the room and her anticipation. Her waist is small and expands slightly at her hips. A slight patch of curly hair showcases her bare pussy lips below. It is her fleshy pear-shaped bottom that draws her partner’s gaze. The firmness of it is in direct contrast to its softness. Her five-inch stilettos emphasize the length and tone of her legs.

Her small hand reaches for his and she is drawn into his embrace. The touch of their skin fuels their energy for this dance. One last preparation to be made then the dance can begin. She raises her arms high into the air and waits for them to be secured in the cuffs. This is the only part of her that is restrained, her body free to feel the movements of the music. With a deep bow to his partner, the dance begins.

The first steps are slow and gentle. This dance requires stamina, strength and the flow of one phase to the next. The first beat is only of the crop as it snaps her soft skin. She remains still, allowing the heat of the stings to envelop her. The fire lights as the crop continues to come down on her body. First her breasts and stomach, then to her ass and legs. A soft pink hue decorates the canvas of her body. She is now prepared to take her first steps in the dance.

The first steps are the easiest for her. As the crop stings harder, her body reacts to the blows. The arching of the back, the slight sway from side to side are all movements of the dance. Her face registers concentration and pleasurable discomfort. His strikes still cover her whole body. They focus long enough in one area for her to feel the pain, then travel to a less covered area. This cessation of intensity allows her to regain her focus. She knows it will not last. It is almost time for the next step.

The strike of the crop gains in momentum and force. She feels it bite into her tender flesh. The first signs of escape creep into her mind. Her feet move and jump from the blows. Tears well in her eyes and threaten to spill over. The chain on the cuffs rattles from her pulling. This is the first parting of the dancers. With every movement he takes toward her with the crop, she pulls back and away. Though not bond together, they still dance as one.

The crop continues to reign down its pain. There is no pleasure now in that pain, nor is there supposed to be. She pleads to him with her eyes. The feelings intensify and she fights for control. Desperation has set in. She has forgotten the steps of the dance. But the dance is primal; the body remembers. Along with the tears come the begging. Anything to escape the ache of the crop. Her pleas and cries do nothing to stop as her body continues on with the dance.

The next step indeed brings out the basic nature of fight or flee. Knowing she cannot escape and her tears have not saved her, her mind follows the lead. Upon her face now is not a look of fear, but of anger. Her feet stomp the ground and she screams with each new strike. The sting fuels her rage and she responds. Her movements are jerky and crude. She cares not about her appearance or sophistication; they matter nothing.

He enjoys the beauty in this simple display. Her body moves to the beat of the crop in a primal way. The mind has no control. It does not feel shame nor pride. Every movement is basic. She is utterly gorgeous at this moment. Her tears, her screams and finally her acceptance. The fight over pain has ceased. Now is the time to find the pleasure in the agony.

And she has. As her body moves, it releases all her pent up fears and frustrations. The pain begins to set her free. Now when the crop hits, she moves back into its sting. She wants this now. She needs it. In this torturous dance, she has found her release. All her senses explode at once and she soars with his lead. They have come together once more to end this wonderful dance as one.

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