Search
  • Kink and the Kitty

The Dance: An Erotic BDSM Short

Updated: Jan 8



The cool, bareness of my skin against the satin lining in my jacket feels both exciting and unnerving. His driver arrived at my apartment at precisely 9:00 pm, just as he said he would. Carefully cradling my glass of champagne, I sweep down to adjust my thigh high stockings. The SUV slows, and my eyes grow wide as I peer out the tinted, grey window, anxious to view my destination. I can't see the mansion past the high stone walls that are entangled with vines and met with the soft, warm glow of the antique light posts. The intricate rod iron gate begins to open for us, exposing a long, curved driveway lined with mature oak trees. I shiver in my anticipation and wonder for a moment what I've gotten myself into as I remember his mysterious words the night before.




I had never attended a BDSM club. My friend, Bela, was a frequent patron, and with her awareness of my dark curiosities, pried me into the underworld. At some point in the night, she slipped away into the darkness, leaving me at the bar to gaze out at the erotic playground. The walls were pulsing as Marilyn Manson's "Para-Noir" floated in the air. I leisurely sipped my drink and suddenly became aware of his eyes on me.


His hair was salt and pepper, longer on top with a fresh taper on the sides. He wore a tailored blue stripped suit, and his white shirt was unbuttoned at the top, conveying a sense of ease about him. He was older, his skin worn and aged, attractive but refined. I found my self drawn to him like a magnet. The chair he was sitting in was a dark leather, and he was sipping on an amber whiskey. A grin dawned his face, and his dimples and grey eyes called to me. Slithering off the barstool, I sauntered over to him, unable to resist his gravity.


"We match." He smiled up at me, and I noticed the blush square in his pocket was the same shade as my short, lace dress. "Sit," He said, nodding to the coffee table in front of him. His words direct and firm. Without hesitation, I sit, perched, and posed for him. As the hours and conversation drew on and the evening came closer to close, he leaned into me, and in a low, slow voice said, "I'd like to invite you into exploring. I see it as scene to scene play. I invite you, and you can accept or decline the invitation, and you can invite too." I paused for a moment and replied, " I am open to exploring. I don't like to rush into anything serious too quickly, though." He agreed and continued. "Exploration is non-serious, open, not rushed. I want to explore power exchange with you." "Well, Sir, I think that is already happening." I purred. "Yes." he continued. "I invite you into the first scene." He paused, and his soulful eyes wandered up and down my frame. "Ready to hear it?" My heart begins to race a little with the anticipation of his next words. "Yes," I whisper, and he continues. "In this first scene, there is no sex. I invite you to dance. I lead, you follow. You are naked. I am clothed. You will wear stockings and heels, and one other item of my choosing." I could feel the heat rise in my cheeks and between my thighs, and I pressed them together tighter. "All of that is subject to your consent and input. Consider it a "get-to-know-you" scene."


His coy expression beckoned me into his world. For a moment, I pondered his invitation, searching for reservation, but to my surprise, I found none. With a long exhale, I relaxed into him, looked him in the eyes, I confidently said, "I accept."




The car draws near the entry and gradually comes to a stop. My stomach jumps into my chest as the driver opens my door. "Ma'am?" He gestures to me as his hand reaches out for mine to assist me from my carriage. I anxiously tighten the belt around my waist as he walks me to the entry, unknowing of my nakedness beneath it. I stand in the arched doorway as he proceeds to open the large, artisan, wood-carved door. "Thank you," I say as I step inside. And with that, he closes the door behind me, and I am alone.


The foyer is grand and elaborately decorated with a balcony and two staircases that spiral down to meet me on either side. Above is a delicate crystal chandelier casting twisted shadows on the walls. I gasp as I notice the pathway through the house lit up by small, red candles. I inhale sharply then slowly exhale, closing my eyes to find my grounding as I reach for my belt. I untie the garment and hang it gracefully over the coatrack to my right.


Embracing my exposure, I step forward and follow the path ahead, my heels echoing atop the marble floor. It leads me to a courtyard filled with fountains and fruit trees. My heart rings in my ears as I lock eyes with him, standing at the end of the trail adorned in black. He smiles and says nothing, reaching for my hand. I follow his silent instructions and place my hand in his as he guides me to a fur rug on the terrace.


"Kneel," he says, and with a "Yes, Sir," I comply. He smiles down on me and asks me if I am familiar with Nadu. "No, Sir," I stammer, embarrassed at what feels like a failure. He cups my face, visibly aware of my distress, and runs a thumb over my cheek to reassure me. "Nadu is a Gorean pose. Kneel with your knees spread apart, showing me what belongs to me. Back is straight, chest out and head held high with pride to be in service. Eyes look down in reverence for your Sir, and hands are placed palms-up on thighs in offering." I adjust my pose, eager to please him. "You did well," he started. "I didn't tell you when to remove your jacket, but you followed my breadcrumbs." I smile and hold my gaze at his feet.


"Do you remember the invitation?" He probes, and I nod as he pulls a small jewelry box from his pocket. Perplexed, I watch as he opens it, revealing an unexpected small gold clamp with a ring dangling from the end. Crouching down, he meets my gaze, and with a wicked smile, asks, "Do you know what this is for?" "No Sir," I summon as he takes it from its case. "For tonight, you are mine, and you will give me your power." Reaching between my thighs, he pulls my clit between his fingers. I whimper as he grasps my pearl and fixes it between the arms of the clamp.


"You may stand." I rise to my feet, aware of the blood rushing to my swelling nub. Next, he raises a gold leash from his pocket with a black leather handle and fascins it to the clamp, the other end securely resting in his strong hand. He growls, and I feel the wetness building between my lips. "And now we dance." My eyes dilate, and I feel the weight of what I had unknowingly consented to; to trust him with my most delicate parts; to exchange my fear in replace of trust. I know so little and yet at this moment understand so much.


He leads me by my clit to the empty space in the center of the courtyard, the smell of roses wafting in the air. "You have my attention," he declares as he pulled me into his arms, beginning the dance. "I lead. You follow. I'm open to how energy aligns, finding a balance of power exchange that is mutually rewarding. In practice, power flows both ways. The more you give to me, the more you will get. Give yourself to me, and I will make you fly".


His words rush over me, and I find myself slipping into the fuzzy headspace of which I've read so much. It isn't the pain, though, or the pleasure that has led me here. It's him, his words, his quiet dominance that isn't forceful nor boastful. I feel his strength in his hands as he directs my body like an orchestrator. The fear I had of my clit on a leash has left my body, and I give to him freely. Never have I felt this comfortable with a man, a wolf, and already I ache to be his for longer than tonight.


"You intrigue me in a new way," I moan, and he tells me I am what he craves. "You *are* my fetish," he responds, and I melt. "I am fascinated by the submissive. It takes courage, grit. The mystery is this: The more submissive she becomes, the more power she has. When the dance works, she sings. It becomes fluid, and we move as one." He tugs on the leash as a reminder, and my arousal intensifies. "You understand your power and how to use it. I need a strong woman. She is free. This is her nature. She can only be in my bondage by her desire. I display her like a rare jewel. You will find me permissive, encouraging you to explore and to be wild.


"Sir, may I make a request?"


"Yes"


"May I have a kiss?"


He pulls me into his arms, warm like a blanket. His hand finds its way to the nape of my hair, gentle but firm, He arches my neck back a bit, positioning my mouth where he wants it, and as I part my lips he presses his against mine, inhaling my warm breath. I moan into his mouth, and he holds me tight, keeping me from floating away. He lets me explore him, our tongues swirling into each other, pulling me deeper into the dance. He pulls away and groans, "Yes. Crave me. This is how I want you, evermore. We will go slowly at first as you learn to trust me." There is nothing left to resist, for I know I am already his.


"As agreed upon, now the dance ends. I will give you back your power, for now." He leads me back to the rug and commands me to kneel. I obey and do my best to remember my posture. "Good girl," he praises. "You learn fast." I am elated. He kisses my forehead before reaching between my thighs and tracing a finger down my drenched cunt. Pulling it up to the light, he examines it and beams down at me before returning his hand and removing the leash. I feel myself floating back to earth. He then removes the clamp, and I groan, the pain intensifying as the blood pulses in my throbbing clit. He returns it to the box and holds me tenderly as my breath evens, giving me reassurance. "When I call for you, you will bring this." "Yes, Sir", I commit in response.


"You may stand." I do, and he leads me back to the doorway and helps me into my coat before handing me the little black box. "You have captured my imagination." "And you mine," I manage to say. And with a kiss on my cheek, he opens the door, leading me back into the night. He helps me into the car, and we pull away into the darkness. I wonder for a moment if any of it were even real or if it were all a fragile dream. Aching to fly again, I trust my wolf will soon lead me deeper into the dance. But for now, I wait.



To stay up to date on all my writing, sign up for my email list and follow me on facebook. Until next time!


Your Kinky Kitty,

Jessica RAVAGE




402 views