Ready to Dance?

Here is the first part of Ready to Dance? If you want to finish the story, it is available at Amazon for the Kindle and at in multiple formats. Note, the Amazon download is the entire story including this part, where the smashwords download is just part two.

Ready to Dance?
By BoundNightmares
Copyright 2009 BoundNightmares

Also from BoundNightmares

Simple Freedoms



For more information about me, please visit my smashwords profile page

This is a work of adult fiction. If you are not an adult, this work is not for you. The characters are not real. The scenes and situations may or may not be possible. For your own safety and the safety of others, do not try to duplicate anything you read here. Severe injury or death may result. Remember: Safe. Sane. Consensual.

This story is dedicated to SG. You don’t know it but your stories are what gave me the courage to put this to paper and share it. Thank you. I hope you have unleashed a torrent.


Its mid-morning Thursday and I call my wife Michelle at the office. “Your servitude is expected the entire 3 day weekend,” I say sternly. After a quick delay, I assume she is looking around, a whispered “Yes Master” comes over the line. I hang up. My wife does not enjoy the lifestyle, but knowing I love it, she tries ever so hard to please me. Even though I know it is not natural for her, I love her for trying.
I greet her at the door, and after a kiss, I inform her she has 1 hour to primp herself. I tell her she needs the full treatment: shower, fully shaved, makeup, hair, nails, the works. I imply we are going out but leave it vague. While she is in the shower, I gather the clothing and items she is to wear. First and foremost, the 5” heels with the ankle strap to prevent removal and a new pair of stay up stockings. Then there is the punishment corset. It is longer than normal to force the lower edge into her pelvis if she sits, and sized 6” less than her normal waist with extra steel boning for further restriction. Its last little perk is the burlap lining the breast cups. The irritation drives her mad. Finally, I pick out a black leather pencil skirt. I love how the public bondage of a woman is accepted and encouraged by society when it is relabeled fashion.
When she is ready, we dress her, making sure the corset is properly tightened. It has a zippered flap that covers up the laces in back and I take a small padlock and lock the corset zipper to the one at the top of the fitted skirt. I then take 2 more padlocks and secure her heels. All of our locks are keyed differently to add to the difficulty, and I pocket the 3 keys for a later surprise. I take a seat and start commanding her to do menial tasks while I read a book. Mostly though, she just stands there, eyes downcast, waiting.
An hour later, I decide to begin, and start explaining the rules of our new game. I pick up a kitchen timer and tell her it is her new master, I tell her I am going to set it for some unknown time less than 1 hour, and turn it so she cannot see it. “When it goes off, you have 1 minute to bring yourself to orgasm without touching yourself anywhere. I know you can do this if you are in the right mindset so I suggest you use the time until the bell rings to keep yourself on the brink.” I tell her she cannot move the entire time. “Just stand there in those painful stilettos watching me relax while you keep your body on edge.” She inquires about her punishment if she fails. I answer her because the threat of a severe punishment does seem to motivate well and the point of this game is the orgasm, not the pain. “If you fail to cum, at 1minute 15 seconds you may start using your hands to stimulate your breasts. However, every second past the original 1 minute mark will result is one swing of the crop directly on your slit and clit.
Now that punishment may seem harsh, but I have no intention of inflicting it. I will, if she fails me, and she remembers the first time I whipped her cunt. It wasn’t even a punishment; just for my enjoyment. I gave her twenty lashes with the cane because I wanted to and she took it willingly. Quietly sobbing into her ballgag, she thought I was ruining her pussy and still she let me do it. God I love her. Her devotion is just staggering. However, to this day, if I pick up the cane, she starts quivering.
This weekend is not to be about pain though, only torment. You see, when she brings herself to orgasm without any contact, it is usually just a small orgasm and never satisfies her. It only leaves her wanting. (She also suffers that “problem” when giving me a blowjob. With only the top half of my dick in her mouth, and her hand rapped around its lower half she cums repeatedly. Although these are much stronger, they still leave her unsatisfied.) I set the timer for 37 minutes and return to my book.
As the timer signals its end with a beep, I look up from my book and watch in awe. Her eyes fixate on my clothed crotch, and at 10 seconds, she starts to moan. At 30 seconds, her hips are air humping. At 40 seconds her eyes close. At 45, her body convulses and she cries out. I smile and wait for her eyes to open. When the aftershocks are almost over, I go to her and shove 2 fingers into her cunt, just to check. It is sloppy wet and she cums again at the violation. I smile again and praise her while she cleans my hand. It’s amazing how my praise makes her glow.
“Would you like to go dancing, my sweet?”
It is only after the “yes, Master” that I hand her the panties she is to wear. They are very unique and she hates wearing them out. They are fluorescent lime green, to attract as much attention to them as possible. There will be no dark shadow if someone gets an upskirt shot. The panties are made of thick latex, to keep in all of her juices that the special features help her make. There are 2 groups of small silicone nubs that ride against her labia on either side, and a slightly longer grouping that seeks out her clit. The piece de resistance though is the attached dildo filled with mercury. Every movement she makes causes the dildo to shift and fuck her mercilessly. I watch as she puts them on and smile as she orgasms with her first steps. I tell her I am lifting her restrictions on orgasms for the rest of the evening. Normally she is not allowed to cum without express permission from me, but tonight, I tell her I expect her to cum every chance she gets. The new restriction is she can’t touch herself to help that along.
As we head out the side door to the separate garage, I hear the keys to her locks jingling in my pocket. I pull them out, show them to Michelle, and with an I Love You, throw them over the privacy fence into our back yard. Michelle knows she will have to find them before she has any hope of release. As we walk towards the car, I have to catch her as another orgasm rips her apart. “Ready to Dance,” I ask?

On the ride to my fetish club, I leave one hand in her crotch. I feel the vibrations from the road in her panties and wonder how long she is going to last tonight. I pull into the private, underground parking garage, and stop at the guard shack. He knows who I am. He knows her. He knows we are here for pleasure, not business. He just smiles and raises the barrier.
Every speed bump we go over sends her eyes rolling back in her head. I don’t park in my reserved spot, just so I can drive over a few extra ones. I’m evil. I’m ok with that. The garage is basically empty. It is only for the employees of my club and other businesses in the area, and all my other businesses are 9 to 5.
After she regains her composure, we walk to the elevator. I had an express elevator installed because I love the stomach roll you can get. Tonight though, it is for my wife and her special dildo. The fast start and stop will surely make her cum again. My special key takes us directly to my office, and as the doors open, I am proven right.
The club is broken up into two main parts. Half is a huge dance floor, which includes the full bar. The other half has semi-private and private scene rooms. I can watch over the dance area from the mirrored windows in my office. The scene rooms all have security cameras. Everything is recorded for security, and some of my patrons like to get a copy of their fun for later. On the dance floor side there is a cage over the bar. This girl once talked me into letting her dance in it for the night. She was wearing a blue latex dress with a skirt so short, I was sure I would get shut down for nudity. After she showed me her matching panties, I allowed her into the cage. I told her if she wanted out early, the bartender would let her out. She just smiled and started dancing.
I couldn’t believe how well the bar did that night. I don’t know how she did it, but every time I looked out, the entire dance floor was just staring at her, and drinking. No one else was dancing. Since she wouldn’t take a job, I ended up giving her a thousand dollars out of my own pocket as thanks. Since that day, word got around about the cage. There were always 5-6 girls wanting to dance up there and I always paid them out of my pocket depending on how well the bar did. I once had a lesbian couple up there in latex catsuits. The made out, touching each other everywhere for over 4 hours. That was another great day for the club.
I decided that Michelle would spend the rest of the evening in the cage. I had the manager give the girl that was in it $100 to get her out. After guiding Michelle in, I cuff her hands to the bars, to force her not to touch herself. She starts to dance as I lock the door. On my way back to my office, I have the DJ kick the bass up all the way. I hope the extra vibrations will make the dildo dance inside my wife’s cunt even harder.
I wait until the bar is closed and my customers are gone before releasing my wife. The bouncer helps me get her down as she can no longer even hold up her own weight. I carry her up to my office. For the last hour, she has had her butt braced against the rear of the cage, just shaking. I think it was just one long cum that wouldn’t quit. She has suffered enough, and I retrieve the spare keys to her locks. After removing all of her clothing, I lay her on the couch while I fetch a warm washcloth. She is asleep before I return, and I gently wash her off before putting her in the Murphy bed for the night.
I return downstairs to see my employees off. After assuring them my wife is sound asleep, they leave, and I lock up behind them. I take a shower in my office bathroom and join my wife for a well earned rest. As I drift off to sleep, I think that tomorrow, my wife will spend the day in the scene rooms downstairs.

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