Winning the Blonde Goddess Ch. 08

My name is Scott. I'm twenty-two years old, I'm a professional ballet dancer with the Chandler Theatre. I've had fourteen years of ballet training, I have the coordination, agility and the stage presence that a dancer needs to be a success.

I also do nude modeling and sexually explicit videos.

At some point during my career at the Chandler Theatre, one of my fellow dancers became my business manager and began setting up appointments for me to do videos and photoshoots. She gets ten percent of everything I make.

My relationship with Darya is complicated. I had a crush on her and I agreed to perform a series of difficult and humiliating tasks to prove I could be obedient and accommodating enough that I would make good boyfriend material. One of the tasks I agreed to perform was allowing Darya to be my business manager.

Funny thing, when I agreed to allow Darya to be my business manager, I had assumed that all my clients would be strangers. It never occurred to me that I would get hired by any of my fellow dancers.

I never told my fellow dancers that Darya was my business manager. I didn't even tell most of them that I was doing nude modeling. However, professional ballet dancers live in an insular world, so it's very difficult to keep secrets. Within weeks, most of my fellow dancers knew that Darya was managing my nude modeling career, and some of them wanted to hire me.

My fees were quite high and that kept any of my friends and associates from hiring me at first. However, some of them were quite motivated and eventually some of them raised enough money afford me.

___

I was hanging out at Nari's apartment, watching a movie on Netflix. It was that Spider-Man movie with Tobey Maguire, Kirsten Dunst and Alfred Molina. This is one of Nari's favorite movies, he's seen it seven or eight times and he still hasn't gotten tired of it.

"I love the way the people of New York show solidarity with Spider-Man," Nari gushed when Spider-Man stopped a runaway train.

After Toby Maguire saved the lives of the train passengers he collapsed, physically and emotionally drained and the New Yorkers gently picked him up and carried him to safety. It's a touching moment that displays how much Spider-Man is truly a part of the city, and Nari holds my hand and comes close to tearing up every time he sees this scene.

I grew up in White Plains, which is a suburb of New York City. And I've never seen that sort of solidarity and compassion from real New Yorkers, but I didn't want to ruin the movie for Nari, so I didn't say anything.

Near the end of the movie I got a text from Darya, it said that I had a new client and to meet them in our rehearsal room in one hour.

"What the fuck?" I exclaimed.

"What?" Nari inquired, sounding much less excited.

"Darya says I have a client," I explained, "And I should meet them in the rehearsal room."

"Our rehearsal room," Nari said, "the rehearsal room for the Chandler Theatre, Fairhaven Center for the Performing Arts?"

"Um," I replied articulately.

"Isn't that closed at this hour?"

"As near as I know, the doors are locked and everything."

"Are you sure this isn't a joke?"

I considered that for a few seconds and then replied, "Darya isn't really known for having a sense of humor."

I arrived at the center and walked up one flight of stairs. Darya was there, waiting for me. So were Cassandra and Jahna. I raised an inquisitive eyebrow at the three of them.

"Scott, these are your clients," Darya informed me, "They have paid me in advance. Do whatever they tell you to do."

"What?" I said, instantly taken aback.

"It wasn't easy, but Jahna and I were able to raise a thousand dollars," Cassandra informed me, "For the next two hours we own you."

"They wish to see you naked," Darya added helpfully, "I was quite certain the fee would prevent them from ever hiring you, but they were quite motivated."

"We couldn't afford to rent a studio, but Darya was kind enough to get us a key to the rehearsal room. You can take off your clothes once you're inside."

And as if to prove her point, Jahna unlocked the door, opened it and stepped inside. Then she flipped on the lights, turned to face me and placed her hands on her hips.

"Scott, you need to follow her," Darya insisted.

In a daze, I followed her inside. Cassandra followed close behind me and then I asked, "Does the ballet mistress know what we're doing here?"

"No, and she's not going to find out," Cassandra replied, "Darya has a plan to keep her and the artistic director occupied for several hours. Nobody has to know, and nobody needs to get in trouble."

Darya nodded and said, "I will go now, Scott, strip!"

Darya made it clear, she had no intention of leaving until I was naked. She stood there in the doorway, door partially open, impatiently waiting for me to shed my clothing.

First I pulled off my t-shirt. Then I removed my shoes and socks.

When I got down to my pants, I hesitated. Stripping naked for total strangers was one thing but stripping naked for people that I knew and saw everyday had a stronger emotional impact. This felt less like a business transaction and more like a shameful and humbling punishment.

I unzipped my jeans, pulled them down and stepped out of them. And when I pulled down my Calvin Klein briefs, my cock was immediately hard. When I stood naked in front of Cassandra and Jahna, I didn't want my cock to be embarrassingly erect, however, Darya had changed me. Being abused and humiliated now had a way of inciting my libido, I couldn't control it.

"Wow," Cassandra exclaimed.

"I had no idea he was so well endowed," Jahna added, "Those dance belts really do a lot to conceal the size of a man's penis."

"I hate those things," Cassandra added, "If I were in charge, I'd ban them from the stage. If a man has a large cock, why keep it hidden?"

Darya interrupted this deep conversation and said, "I must go now and keep the ballet mistress and the artistic director distracted. Scott, cooperate with your client. Cassandra, if he misbehaves, just smack his bottom."

"Wait, we can do that?" Jahna asked.

"Cassandra may smack his bottom," Darya elaborated, "She negotiated certain perks when we were discussing the fee. She never said anything about you getting to smack Scott's bottom."

"Cassandra!" Jahna protested loudly.

"The three of you behave," Darya admonished, "I will see you tomorrow."

Darya left and closed the door behind her. The sound of the door clicking shut had an air of finality. I was naked and ostensibly under the control of Cassandra for the next two hours. My heart pounded frantically at the thoughts of the things she might do while she had authority over me.

"We'll want photos of course," Cassandra said, "I mean seeing you naked is great, but I want to remember this forever. Photos will help to immortalize the occasion."

Neither Cassandra or Jahna had cameras, however, they both had iPhones and they both proceeded to activate the camera app on their phones.

"Let's start off with you stretching at the barre," Cassandra instructed.

Following Cassandra's dictates, I stood there naked, facing the barre and began to do a series of stretches. Much like I would do before rehearsals, I lifted my leg, placed it on the barre and proceeded to stretch my hamstring muscles. Of course, now I was naked and being closely scrutinized by two of my fellow dancers. To add to my embarrassment, with my legs spread so far apart my anus and shaved scrotum were both clearly in view, a fact that Cassandra and Jahna couldn't help but notice as they took multiple photos of my widespread legs and naked buttocks.

I did several minutes of this, stretching the hamstring muscles in each leg before Cassandra got tired of taking photos of my butt and decided to switch things up.

Next, Cassandra had me do arabesque stretches on the barre. For those of you who don't know how ballet stretches work, this means I raised one leg on the barre behind me. I kept my toes pointed and legs turned out and straight. I raised one arm up, thrust my chest out and kept my back straight. Of course, my cock was still hard and erect, and my two tormenters made certain to get plenty of photos of my prominent erection.

Next, they had me do a standing split. This is perhaps the most difficult stretch in all of ballet. I would describe it as an almost impossible feat that requires balance, strength, superhuman flexibility and coordination. I'm talking about standing on one leg, while pointing the other leg straight up into the air. This is a very physically challenging endeavor. It takes years of training and conditioning.

Fortunately, I'd been training and conditioning my body for ballet even since I was a little boy. I'd spent years strengthening my core, years of stretching exercises, stretching my hamstrings, lengthening my adductors, and increasing my flexibility to levels that ninety-nine percent of humanity can only dream of having.

With as much grace as I could muster, I stood on my right leg and lifted my left until my ankle was just an inch away from my face, and my toes were pointed directly up at the ceiling. This is an extreme stretch, and I could feel the strain in my hamstrings and inner-thigh muscles almost immediately. If a normal human tried this, they'd pull a groin muscle or suffer some other horrible injury. With my years of training, I wasn't about to injure myself, however I could still feel the strain in my muscles and tendons.

"Very pretty," Cassandra said, "Now hold that pose."

My cock was still shamelessly erect and with my legs spread so far apart, it was indecently on display. Cassandra stood just a few feet away and took photos of my naked body.

"I love his abs," Jahna said as she stood behind Cassandra, "and his cock."

"According to Nari, he can keep his cock hard like that for hours," Cassandra said.

"Lucky Nari."

At some point, Cassandra said, "It's a shame we don't have him for longer than two hours. He'd look more erotic if we worked him long enough that his whole body was covered in sweat. It would make all of his curves and muscles stand out in the photos."

"What about oil?" Jahna asked, "I've got some sesame shower oil in my purse."

After a brief discussion, Cassandra set down her phone and told Jahna to get out the oil. I was ordered to stand with my legs apart and my hands behind the back of my neck while Jahna and Cassandra rubbed oil into my skin. The more they rubbed their hands over my body, the more embarrassed and helpless I felt. Cassandra and Jahna weren't even the least bit shy about where they put their hands. Cassandra spent a suspiciously long time rubbing her hands across my thighs and buttocks, working the oil into every nook and cranny, even working her fingers into the tight furrow between my buttocks and rubbing her fingertips across the soft, pink flesh of my anus.

"Is that really necessary?" I inquired a bit too loudly and tremulously, "I'm pretty sure there's no need for you to oil up my asshole."

Cassandra's immediate reaction was to smack my oil-slick buttocks three times in rapid succession. I gasped, more from the surprise of being spanked, than from the pain.

"Darya said I could smack your bottom if you complained," Cassandra said firmly.

"I love the way your handprints add a splash of color to his cute butt," Jahna said.

"I know what you mean," Cassandra replied, "I'd love to turn his entire backside that color. It would really add something to the photos."

I don't know what came over me at that point, but as I stood there, my naked body oiled from my shoulders down to my ankles, I said, "You know, you paid a thousand dollars for me. If turning my backside all red is what would make you happy, you should go ahead and do it."

As soon as I said those words my heart pounded wildly in my chest as if I had just put my life in danger. However, my cock throbbed wildly at the same time. At some point while undergoing Darya's tests I had become some sort of masochist. I feared harsh punishments, but I also felt a powerful erotic thrill when subjected to harsh punishments.

"Is he serious?" Jahna asked after a moment of hushed silence.

Ignoring Jahna's question, Cassandra said, "Scott, you make an excellent point. I paid a lot of money for you. If I really want to spank you, the gentlemanly thing for you to do is to let me do it."

"It would only be fair," I replied, my hands still obediently behind the back of my neck and my legs still spread.

With that settled, Cassandra said, "Jahna, give me your belt."

"What? Why?"

"Because I'm not wearing a belt, and I can redden Scott's ass a lot quicker with a leather belt than I can with my hand."

Eventually Jahna agreed to Cassandra's request, unbuckled her belt, slid it out of her pants and handed it over. There wasn't much to Jahna's belt. Her belt was basically a thin, narrow strip of leather to go around her slender waist; however, I knew from experience that thin narrow strips of leather could sting a great deal when they were cracked across bare skin.

"If he charges you with assault, I was never here," Jahna said defensively.

"I'm not going to charge her with assault," I insisted.

"This is just a nude modeling session," Cassandra explained, "And Scott is a consenting adult. He said we could do this to him."

Those were the last words out of Cassandra's mouth before the leather belt cracked across my naked skin. Cassandra had some sort of natural skill at this. She had doubled the leather belt before striking me with it, and every cruel blow left an exquisite sting. And as my bottom became redder, I began to gasp and squirm from the merciless swats of leather across my innocent backside.

Cassandra could easily see me recoil from the painful blows as she whipped me with Jahna's belt. What she couldn't see was how the intense pain flooded my body and inexplicably fueled intense sensations in my cock. My libido had become confused over the past several weeks and now being abused, objectified and cruelly punished worked as a powerful aphrodisiac.

At a certain point, my poor buttocks and the backs of my thighs were crisscrossed with red-hot pain and my eyes were welled up with tears and I heard Cassandra ask, "Is he red enough?"

"He's very red," Jahna replied, "If you're into that sort of thing, you should start taking photos before the color starts to fade."

With my ass and my thighs sufficiently decorated a stinging red color, Cassandra ordered me to do plié squats, calf raises and other exercises that would highlight my punished legs and buttocks. Cassandra found the whole thing to be extremely erotic and kinky, marveling at the detailed muscles in my calves, my thighs, and my glutes.

"And the color has barely faded at all," Cassandra marveled, "He's all red."

"That looks painful," Jahna said.

"Of course, it's painful," Cassandra told her friend, "It's supposed to be painful, that's the whole point of whipping somebody's backside with a leather belt."

Cassandra put me through my paces and got hundreds of nude photos. When her two hours were finally up, Cassandra felt she had gotten her money's worth.

After Cassandra was finished abusing me, I returned to Nari's apartment. He was full of questions.

"It turns out that my client was Cassandra," I told Nari, "That caught me totally off guard. I never thought I'd have to do nude modeling for her."

"Well, she has said that she wanted to see you naked," Nari observed, "She wasn't exactly secretive about that."

"She also whipped my ass with a leather belt," I added, "She's a lot kinkier than I would have guessed."

"Seriously? I thought Darya was the only dancer in the Chandler Theatre that was into corporal punishment."

"I think it's contagious," I replied, "It started with Darya and then it spread to Cassandra. Darya's affected me too. I mean, I went the opposite way. I'm more into receiving corporal punishment than dishing it out."

"You weren't like that before you met Darya?"

"No, she did something to me," I admitted, "She reworked my libido. Before I met her, my sexual fantasies were very typical."

"So, you went from vanilla, to something much more exotic."

"Very exotic," I said, "My cock gets all hard at the thought of being sexually objectified and punished."

"Does that mean I should go out and buy a leather paddle?" Nari asked, "I'd be willing to spank you as a form of foreplay."

Nari had a mischievous grin on his face when he said it, but the idea of going over Nari's lap and being mercilessly paddled by him was something of a turn on for me. My cock twitched in my pants just at the thought of it.

Then Nari changed the subject slightly and said, "How brutal was that spanking? Did she leave any marks?"

"I'm not sure," I responded, "It sure felt like she did."

"Take off your pants," Nari suggested, "Let me have a look."

I considered making a smartass remark about how my fellow dancers kept asking me to get naked for them, but I decided against it.

First, I took off my shoes, then, I unsnapped and unzipped the front of my pants and slid them down to my ankles. My Calvin Klein briefs went down next, after I stepped out of the puddle of clothes, Nari instructed me to turn around.

Nari sucked air in between his teeth and said, "Wow, your bottom is still red. We should get some lotion on this."

Nari got up and retrieved a plastic tube of Aloe Vera gel from the bathroom. Then he popped the cap off, sat down on the couch and told me to crawl across his lap.

Before Nari would rub the gel into my inflamed buttocks, he decided he wanted me entirely naked, so I stripped off my t-shirt, while Nari removed my socks, then Nari had me raise my hips up and he began to gently rub the Aloe Vera gel into my sore flesh.

"Ahhh," I gasped, I was very tender from Cassandra whipping me and even though Nari was gentle, his touch still stirred up stinging pain.

"Sorry," Nari said softly, "Cassandra did more than just redden your ass. She left several welts. You're so sore, this is going to hurt going on, but in the long term this'll be good for you."

Nari proceeded to coat my buttocks and the backs of my thighs with the medicinal gel. His fingertips glided across my inflamed flesh in a loving, gentle way and eventually my welted flesh began to feel soothed by what Nari was doing. I sighed and closed my eyes. I felt a tenderness for Nari and for his gentle hands that rubbed up and down my abused, aching flesh so carefully.

___

Later that night, I dreamt of Nari. I dreamt of his boyish smile, his soft lips and his gentle hands touching me everywhere. I didn't dream about Darya at all.

___

Later that week, Darya had a new test for me. It involved a friend of hers who was visiting from out of town.

"His name is Jon. He is gay, but his father is very big deal in the Republican party. This means Jon is in the closet. You must have sex with Jon but be very discrete. If anyone find out that Jon is gay, this information would ruin Jon's relationship with his father."

"And ruin his father's career?"

"That is the way with Republicans," Darya replied, "Republican men can brag about sexually assaulting women and their approval numbers remain the same. However, if Republican man admits to being in love with another man, his approval numbers drop like stone."

"And if he's a father who loves and accepts his gay son, that would probably ruin his career too," I said.

"That is the Republican way," Darya confirmed, "Everything you do with Jon must be kept secret. You must be sneaky, and you must not get caught."

Jon and I were both consenting adults. There was nothing illegal about our plans, however, we took a multitude of precautions to make certain nobody witnessed my meeting with Jon. It felt like I was a drug mule or some sort of dangerous criminal, the way we had to be so clandestine.