Saturday, February 23, 2013

Saturday AfterDark Moments {7}: Talent Show



So it's time once more to do our Saturday AfterDark Moments.  I apologize for the delay but I hope that it will be worth it.  Enjoy and please be sure to stop by the rest of the contributors blogs. Thier links are at the end :D




Saturday AfterDark Moments: Talent Show

Leaning over I rubbed the silver cuff around my ankle. A heavy chain connected it, no me to the pole in standing center stage. Even though I had agreed to this, my heart raced as I stood in the spotlight – the focus of every eye in the BDSM club. A normally shy person, with the help of my Master I was getting over my inhibitions. This was just another test of my obedience to him, just as the hours of practice and classes I’d taken in preparation for this one night. 

“And now, we have a special treat tonight to end our show…” Half hidden behind the current, the Dom who’d been announcing all of the special “talent” show contestants continued to list the number of years I had in the lifestyle, my fetishes and more importantly the Master who owned me. “….so let’s give a warm welcome to Libby as she prepares to dazzle us with her rather unique pole skills.” 

There was a smattering of applause as the music Master selected for me began to spill out of the speakers. Starting softly, it had a throbbing beat which slowly built as I began to sway on my high heels, letting the music take me away from everything. As its pulsing grew heavier, faster, I moved in time until it came time for my first move. Hooking my knee around the pole, I swung high, my leg not tethered to the pole extended and exposed my bare folds to any Dom who cared to look. I ignored the murmur of voices as the several men came closer to the stage to get a better look. 

Keeping in time to the music, I preformed several more moves, working with the chain as it moved up and down the shiny surface of the pole knowing that final move would be the show-stopper. As the music crescendoed, I twirled on my toes, jumped up to catch the pole high and slid into a perfect standing splits, my feet not touching the stage while my cunt pressed the cold pole with the long chain wrapped around my waist. There was whistling and hollering from several men as I held the position as the music died. 

Then I felt the hand of my master against the small of my back, his body pressing close as he leaned into press his lips against my ear, as I slowly let my body drop back to its original position. “Beautiful Libby, just absolutely beautiful. So what reward do you want?” 

I shivered as his voice sent chills down my spine. “Ah…the spanking bench, Master?” I kept my voice soft. 

Pulling the tip of my ear into his mouth, he suckled it before giving it a final lick. “Of course.” He swatted my ass. “What do you think guys? Does my girl deserve a good spanking?” 

There were several nods and shouts of agreement. Unhooking my ankle from the chain, he sternly told me to go to the playroom.

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©Dakota Trace All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.

6 comments:

  1. I want to read more of this! I didn't want it to stop... :)

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  2. Very hot. Great description of the dancing. I could not have done that.

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  3. I love your description of the dancing (albeit restricted by the chain) too! Great little story!

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  4. I felt I was Libby dancing her routine as her feelings and movements were described so breath taking and real. I "really" felt your writing skills come through this as personal, as if you were Libby dancing on the pole.

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  5. Loved this. Brilliantly written with perfect description of Libby's move

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  6. Very nice. I loved the way you've worked that snippet. Now, that's what I call an AfterDark Moment.

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