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Bound to Dance

Ills glanced through the frosted glass window - cold snaps gave her a chill
that went straight to her bones. Might as well just leave her leotards on
and give herself an extra layer of warmth.

As she slid her jeans over her tights, a sigh escaped. Rehearsals had run
long - all the "chorus" types were already long gone, but Morris has
insisted he wanted her to stay back and work on some "fine-tuning" of her
moves. The time had been well spent - she had to admit that as she shimmied
into her plush sweater and buttoned it up, but still it was very late
and very dark . Rather eerie.

Shaking her head at her own foolishness, she tugged her boots on, tucking
her pant legs neatly inside before reaching for her suede coat. The theatre
is in a good neighborhood - hasn't been an incident around here for about
two years. And even that hadn't been a mugging or anything. One of the
dancers had simply disappeared one night. No signs of foul-play, as the
police called it. In fact, it had pretty basically been written off as the
woman just up-and-leaving without leaving a forwarding address.

Hands deep in her pockets, she exited through the rear door, hesitating at a
pitiful sound. Kittens? Here? Looking around, she spotted the blanket
covered basket not far from the stairs and carefully knelt down to peer
inside.

Lifting the blanket revealed a pair of absolutely gorgeous kittens - her
heart melted. "Ooh. poor little things who could've humph!"

She hadn't heard the stealthy approach and now that a quick move had shoved
some rag or other into her mouth, Ills quickly discovered that her kneeling
position had left her horribly vulnerable. Something chill and smelly was
clamped over her nose as the man kept her down as the kitten watched from
their basket with wide, uncomprehending eyes. Just before she lost
consciousness, she heard a soft whisper by her ear. "Good bait works
almost every time"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

She awoke on a cold hardwood floor - just like the dance studio floors she
was so very, very used to. Fully dressed as she had been when taken - the
cloth was no longer in her mouth though. She was inside a corral of
sorts made from dance balance bars - with more than one difference. The top
bar was where it should be - just over waist-high, but there were two other
sets of bars as well - one around ankle height and the other at knee-height.
The corner posts were bolted to the floors and about five foot apart - she
was in the center of the square. Spotlights brightly illuminated her
square and left the rest on the room in utter blackness.

A voice came over an overhead speaker. "Good evening, Miss Ills Very nice
to have you awake again. You are a bi t over-dressed for the occasion,
however." From the shadows, something was tossed that landed near her with a
metallic clatter. "Pick those up - and stand. Now."

Shaking at the coldness of that voice, her eyes looked to the metal and
discovered a pair of bandage scissors. With a trembling hand, she drew them
to her - but made no move to stand yet.

"Disobedience will not be tolerated, Miss Ills - you are a dancer. You
understand discipline, so do not try my patience by pretending otherwise."
Her eyes widened as a long snake-like leather braid came horribly close to
her - the crack as it popped sounded like thunder. She scrambled to her
feet - trembling inside her fur-lined coat.

"Much better, Miss Ills I knew you'd be a quick study. Now - let's take
off that coat, shall we?"

Her hands moved to the top button, only to freeze as the whip snaked out of
the shadows again. "Lesson number two, Miss Ills You not only do what I
say, you do it the way I want it done. Now .... take hold of your top button
with your left hand. Pull it out from you. Take the scissors I gave you and
sever the threads. "

With her tremors, it took her several horribly long seconds to saw through
the threads, but finally she was left holding the button. A click and
another spotlight flared to life - illuminating a pail about six feet
outside of her corral. "See the bucket? Toss the button into it. There will
be a penalty later for misses."

Aiming at targets had never been her strong point and the button missed the
bucket - badly. Eyes filling with tears as the button bounced into the
unyielding shadows, she turned toward the direction the whip always came
from.

"Please please I'll" The whip cracked again and her voice choked off
in terror. Something new came flying into her enclosure -- it reminded her
of a horse's bridle.

"Put down your scissors, Miss Ills .... and pick up your head harness. You
apparently need reinforcement that dancers are to be seen, not heard."



Part 2

Openly weeping now, but too afraid of the whip to refuse, Ills dropped back
to her knees and let the scissors clatter to the floor as she groped for the
cold leather "harness". Blinking back her tears, she looked it over - not
having much of a clue what she was supposed to do with it, turning it over
in her hands.

"Pay careful attention, Miss Ills - you will not get a second chance to do
this correctly. Any deviation from my exact instructions will be met with
immediate and ...... distasteful punishment. Nod if you understand that."

She bobbed her head, now viewing the harness as if she suddenly found
herself holding a snake. A poisonous one.

"Very good. Now, I trust you can find the rubber coated round part? Open
your mouth and insert that in between your teeth with the upside down Y-strap
up."

Pausing just long enough to wipe her nose off, Ills moved the harness into
position - nearly panicking at how far she had to open her mouth to admit the
foul-tasting intruder. Still the whip was a powerful incentive and once
the ring was solidly in her mouth, she looked to the shadows for her next
instruction.

"Now - take the straps at the sides of your mouth behind your head. Find the
buckle - tighten the straps until they are snug."

Moving in her still fully buttoned coat which was now starting to feel
uncomfortably warm was a bit awkward, but she managed. Despite the coat, a
cold chill running down her spine as she felt the leather press against her
face.

"Now, feel the two small straps attached on either side just behind your
mouth? Yes, those are the one. Run them under your chin and buckle them
under your chin. Come now - quit dawdling, Miss Ills If you'd kept quiet,
you wouldn't be having to go through this now."

Swallowing, she did as instructed. Tears again began to flow as she waited
for the cold voice to continue. In the shadows, however, her captor was in
no hurry. None at all. He was savoring every second of her slowly robbing
herself of the ability to speak as another man might savor a glass of fine
wine.

"Take that top strap now. Your nose will go through the opening. Take the
strap over the top of your head and find the buckle for it on the top of the
straps coming from the sides of your mouth. Lucky for you that your hair is
already short or you'd have to cut it off now. Tighten it. More. Yes
that's quite nice. The look suits you, Miss Ills Care to see?"

Another click - another flare of light. This one illuminated a full-length
mirror to one side. Ills turned her head toward the mirror and flinched. Was
that really her with the tear-streaked face behind those dark leather
straps? Just as suddenly as it had been lit, the mirror went dark again.

"Re-pick up your scissors, Miss Ills That coat still has far too many
buttons. Stand up again - do each button in turn just like you did the first
one. Each one is to be tossed into the pail after being removed."

Her coat had six buttons remaining - of them, only three went inside the
pail. Coat hanging open now, she again stopped for instruction.

"Pull your right arm out of the coat sleeve. Correct. Now the left. Drape
the coat over the back rail and remove your boots. Right one first."

Ills made use of the rails, leaning against it as she pulled her right boot
free - exposing her foot which was covered by a gaily covered sock that
she'd pulled over her tights. The left boot followed and her toes twitched
nervously as she again waited.

"Bundle the boots up inside of your coat and throw the bundle as far away
from your area as you can. You will be judged on the distance of your
throw."

Hurriedly making the bundle, her tongue ran over the rubber covered piece
forcing her to keep her mouth open. She was being judged on everything
from obedience to tossing buttons. What would penalties entail? Even trying
to think of it frightened her. The bundle was heaved away and the voice
spoke again.

"Not too bad, Miss Ills But you are still far over-dressed for the
occasion." Another toss into her enclosure. A small bag that had been
weighted by a stone to make it easier to throw. "Remove each and every piece
of jewelry and place it into the bag. One item at a time. Start with your
earrings. Right one first."

As his unwilling "guest" blindly groped to remove the backing from her
earring, he smiled. Just as satisfying as it had been two years ago.



Part 3

As her last ring, freshly tugged from her finger, was dropped into the bag,
she looked back to the shadows again.

"Tie the bag - toss it into the bucket." He smiled as she managed to get the
bag into the bucket. Getting better all the time. Now for the acid test.
Another toss - another bag skidding into her area. "Miss Ills, you will put
your scissors in the corner, then pick up the bag and open it."

Leaving the scissors behind was a pleasure, but she approached the bag with
trepidation. Not a big bag - weighted, like the other, with a stone. Opening
it, she tugged out something that felt like silk. Black silk.

"Drop the bag to the floor - and pull the hood over your head."

The command was simple and cold - and terrifying. Her hands and eyes quickly
explored the hood. No holes - not for eyes, not for nose, not for mouth.
Mewling in terror through her ring gag, she dropped the hood to the floor.

This time, the slender and supple whip didn't stop short - it popped against
her upper left arm and got her attention immediately. "Obviously, the
harness is no longer enough to keep you silent and your mind on your tasks,
Miss Ills Sit down."

Hand on her aching arm, Ills obeyed immediately - he had proved the point
that the whip would be used when he felt like it.

"Remove your right sock. Slowly. That's better. Left sock good. Shake
them out. Did you put on fresh socks today? For your sake, I hope so. Push
them through the ring in your mouth one at a time - make sure you poke them
into the sides of your mouth as well as you can." As she stared at him
wide-eyed, the whip cracked directly over her head. "That was not a
suggestion - that was an order."

Fighting to overcome her desire to gag, Ills forced the first sock through
the ring - thankful that her socks were crew socks rather than
over-the-calf. Her socks were fairly clean still the thought of having
to stuff her mouth with her footwear was nauseating. Part of the second sock
protruded through the ring , but she couldn't force it in any further.
Fearful of the whip, she looked back to the horribly dark shadows.

"That will do for now. You will pick up your hood - you will put it on. Do
not make me wait any longer. You've tried my patience enough, Miss Ills"

As her timorous hands tugged down the hood and robbed her of her sight, he
stood and smiled. "Excellent. Now stand. Feel your way over to a side. That
will do. Raise your right leg - hook your ankle over the top bar."

Now that she couldn't see him, he moved to her - a razor sharp blade in
hand. A careful slice about three inches long up the front of the jean's leg
from the bottom. He made her switch legs, then put a matching slice in the
left leg. Then he retreated to his seat in the shadows.

"You may remove your hood now, but you must fold it neatly and lay it next
to your scissors. The socks will remain where they are." He smiled at how
quickly she pulled the hood free and at the look of disgust in her eyes at
the socks. "I started the work for you. You will grab on either side of the
cut in your right pants' leg - and rip. All the way to your waist."

Her newest sob didn't get far past her stuffed mouth. Bad enough having to
undress for this mad man but her clothing was being destroyed every step
of the way. But she thought of the whip - and she knew he had a knife
as well. One sharp enough to cut through canvas easily. Eyes filled with
fresh tears, she yanked and slowly worked the rip up her leg. As expected,
the left leg was soon similarly ruined.

"Those pants look in bad shape, Miss Ills I think you'll be better off
without them. Unbutton them" A whip crack. "I hadn't given you permission
to touch the zipper. I believe that calls for another penalty. I won't
collect ... yet. But remember all of your mistakes will be paid for
eventually. I would advise you, Miss Ills, not to run up too large of a tab.
Now unzip the pants. Push past your hips - let the rags drop. Kick them
away.

Now she stood - her bottom half covered by the lower part of her leotards
and tights her upper half still covered with her sapphire blue sweater.
She clutched the soft wool to her like a security blanket as she closed her
eyes. Why was he doing this to her?

"You look better, Miss Ills Ye s much better. But I fear you are
still overdressed. Go pick your scissors up again."



Part 4

Ills clutched at her sweater, but to her surprise, the voice had other
things in mind.

"Sit down, Miss Ills I dislike the feet in your tights. I want to see what
your toes look like. If they please me, I will give you a treat."

Sitting down with the scissors in hand, she wore a very puzzled expression.
But she waited for the voice to instruct her -- much to his pleasure.

"With your left hand, take hold of your tights at your right ankle and snip
them all the way around the ankle now. Pull off the foot part and lay it
beside you. Left leg - done exactly the same. Now lay the scissors down
and come over to the rails nearest me. Put your left foot over the bottom
rail and let me get a good look at it."

She flushed just a touch - unlike her fingernails, which were done in a
sophisticated French manicure, her toenails were a vivid candy-apple red.
She'd just had a pedicure not two days before, so the polish was still
bright and un chipped.

"Your toes please me." A dull thud as a gift wrapped lingerie' box landed
inside the enclosure. "You may not open the box until you make a choice,
Miss Ills I will allow you to choose the gag that you will wear for the
remainder of the day. You will either continue to chew on your socks --
which will have to be pressed the rest of the way in and the feet of your
tights tucked in after them -- or you may instead choose to be gagged with
the contents of the box. I will only guarantee you two things. Number one -
what is in the box will fit in your mouth and number two, the contents have
never been worn. Hear the ticking? I'm setting a kitchen timer for 45
seconds. Before the bell rings, you will show me your choice. If you want to
keep the socks, you will begin pressing the remainder of the second sock
into your mouth. If you want to be gagged with what is in the box, you will
pull the socks from your mouth. If you make no move either direction? You
will receive a reminder to make up your mind from my whip."

The timer must have been set down right next to his mike - the ticking
sounded loud ominous. She stared at the box - whatever was in there had
to be better than having to keep her dirty socks in her mouth. With fully
half her time left, she began to tug the socks back out.

"Put the socks to the side, Miss Ills You have made your choice. You will
live with it. Open the box."

Live with it? A sense of trepidation now filled her as she ripped through
the wrap covering the box. It was ... heavier than she'd expected it to be.
Removing the box top and the tissue paper, she gasped as her eyes grew
wider than they'd possibly ever been in her life. Instead of the panties
she'd been expecting to have to stuff her mouth with, the box was filled
with a realistically formed cock.

A short pause - then she heard the ticking start again. He didn't have to
say a word - she knew what would happen if the bell rang before she inserted
that obscenely large seeming hunk of rubber into her mouth. Steeling herself
not to gag on it, she fitted the penis-plug through the hole of her ring gag
until it locked into place.

Back in the shadows, he watched her intently as she unknowingly inserted her
gag in a slow and rather sensuous manner. He especially rather liked the way
she'd closed her eyes as the last inch of the penis had entered her mouth.

"Look back in the box, Miss Ills See the small piece of leather with the
two snaps on it? The other halves of those snaps are studded on either side
of your mouthpiece. Snap it into position now." He had to move the mike away
from his mouth. It wouldn't do for her to hear him chuckle as she obeyed the
latest command without hesitation. Quite likely it hadn't dawned on her yet
just how thoroughly she had herself gagged now.

"Your tights look rather ragged, Miss Ills Cut them off just above your
knee - try to make it neater than your first attempt." Of course, as he knew
it would, her second attempt looked no better than her first. "Still too
messy - cut them off just below your leotards." Another pause. "No this
just isn't working. Reach up your leotard's right leg opening and pull the
waist band of the tights down. Cut through it. Left side of the waistband?
Good, good now tug that scrap off and stand up."

Shivering again, Ills stood as directed, her long, shapely legs now fully
bare, though her torso was still very modestly attired in her underwear,
leotards and sweater. Her hands plucked nervously at the soft wool - waiting
tensely.

"Up on your toes, Miss Ills - hands over your head. Stretch - yes, that's
it. Lower yourself - spin. Again. To the bar now -- first position. Warm-up
time." Softly, a selection from the ballet Giselle began to play.

Mystified, Ills went through the motions of a ballet warm-up, stretching her
muscles and, without her knowledge, she began to relax. The rigidity and
familiarity of the deeply engrained exercises lulled her mind. A lull that
ended abruptly as the music ceased and his voice rang out again.

"You pleased me again, Miss Ills - enough so that I will give you some
jewelry to replace that you lost." Another small bag skidded to her feet.
"Sit down and I will instruct you how I like to see them worn."

Unused to exercising with a mouth-filling gag, Ills was breathing heavily
as she sat. At his next instruction, she opened the bag and poured out two
set of open rings joined with small chain links. They reminded her of tiny
handcuffs.

"Pull your right foot into your lap - fasten an end of one set around your
big toe. The other is for your little toe. Snuggly now - you will not enjoy
it if I am forced to adjust them for you. Feet together now - sole to sole.
Now cuff the toes on your left foot. "

Concentrating on her task with her tired and half-numbed mind, Ills closed
the final ring - then suddenly noticed just how open her crotch area
was now. And to her dismay, she quickly discovered that with her feet cuffed
together as they were, trying to close her legs was a difficult proposition
at best. In fact, strain as she could, she couldn't even come close to
making her knees meet. In the midst of her growing panic, the voice washed
over her like a bucket of ice-cold water.

"You are doing very well so far, Miss Ills but now it's time for you to
make another choice."



Part 5

At the flat statement from the voice, Ills gave a cry of dismay - or at
least, she attempted to. Her eyes widened once more as it dawned on her just
how thoroughly the gag had robbed her of the ability to make sounds. A noise
drew her eyes again -- yet another box was sliding to a stop near her.

"Open the box, Miss Ills - then I'll tell you your options."

With more than a little trepidation considering what was in the last box,
Ills lifted off the lid to expose a two-inch wide belt. Handling it like a
snake, she gingerly lifted it from the box - it wasn't like any otter belt
she'd ever seen. Places for other straps to attached were obvious and gave
her a sinking feeling in her stomach. Her eyes moved from the leather back
to the shadows - dreading the next words.

"You will be putting that belt around your waist, Miss Ills - but the belt
must be against your flesh. Your choice is this. Remove you sweater and pull
down your leotard to put it on or use the scissors to cut through the crotch
and push your leotards up."

In the shadows, he smiled and set the timer next to the microphone again. He
was betting that she wouldn't give up her sweater - while she still had the
choice.

The ticking how much time did she have? Take off her sweater no
no not that. Her throat worked as her hand re picked up the scissors and
began to cut through the material. It wouldn't matter after all, her
panties would still cover everything.

As she began to pull her leotards up enough to fit the belt into place, he
noted that her panties matched the color of her leotards - royal blue. Nice
touch.

"Make sure the belt is snug, Miss Ills - we wouldn't want it to chafe you,
would we? Very good - now put the lid back on the box and toss it toward
where you tossed your coat."

She obeyed almost mechanically and threw the box away as best as she could.
Then she nervously plucked at her sweater.

"You've been doing very well, Miss Ills Well enough that I will reward you
with another treat."
Her heart sank as another box slid into her enclosure - whatever this
"treat" was, she was sure it wasn't one she wanted.



Part 6

The voice, as always, was firm.

"Open the box, Miss Ills - it's rude to reject a present."

Feeling scarcely able to breath, she pull off the top and then the layer of
padding. The blood left her face and she felt faint. The box contained an
assortment of eight different dildos - of various lengths, textures and
thickness. The box top and padding fell from her hands as she stared at
them.

"A very nice selection, I'm sure you'll agree. Now - you need to choose out
two for yourself. One for your back passage - one for your front."

It was too much. With a barely audible sob, she raised a hand to swat the
offending box away, but before she could, the voice rang back out and froze
her arm.

"Stop that this instant!" Then an irritated sigh came over the speaker. "I
can see I have to spell things out for you, Miss Ills This adds more
penalty points to your record." A short pause - she could hear him take a
sip of something.

"Now - let us face facts, Miss Ills Just what to you hope to gain by bad
behavior? Even assuming that there are those nearby that might be able to
hear you should you scream out, do you honestly believe that you could
unsnap the cover and remove the plug before I could reach you to silence
you? Answer me!

Trembling and fearing the whip, she shook her head. No she couldn't
move that fast.

"Correct. You couldn't. And even assuming the doors in this room were
unlocked, could you run to them before I stopped you?"

Tears forming again, Ills looked at her feet - chained sole to sole together
by her own two hands. She couldn't stand, let alone run. Again, she shook
her head.

"Correct again. Now - let me further explain to you what will happen should
you shove that box away. I will come inside of your enclosure and bind your
arms. The penis will be taken from your mouth, shoved up your backside, then
stuffed back into your mouth again. Then I will take the two largest dildos
in my considerable collection and insert them for you. Have I made myself
clear, Miss Ills?"

As the pooled tears began to spill down her cheeks, Ills nodded numbly. It
was true .... all of it. He could come in and do whatever he pleased. Her
eyes moved back to the box. Pick out two her self or have him do it for
her. The ticking of the timer moved to the mike again and she forced herself
to reach for the smallest of the box's contents, steeling herself to lift it
from the box.

In the shadows, he smiled again. A very trainable woman - yes, she would fit
admirably among his students. Then he reached for the mike and spoke softly.

"Oh, Miss Ills? It is time to pay for one of your penalty points. Lay the
dildo back down for a moment - re pick up the scissors and cut the sides of
your panties. The penalty is to lose them. After you cut the sides, you will
pull them from you, fold them neatly and lay them down with your hood. Do it
now."

She had run out of tears for now, but her vision was blurred with the
remnants as she did as ordered and slid the blades of the scissors into
position and began to cut. Part of her mind tried to rebel - but Ills was a
practical woman. He could do whatever he wanted - why invite him to come to
her and do it roughly when she could do it herself and avoid that?

She began to cut the other side. Every snip made her a little less her own
woman and a little more his creature, but that thought never occurred to her.
If it had, she might have flung the scissors at the shadows in
defiance instead, she pulled her panties away from her own crotch and
folded them neatly. The moment she laid them by the hood, the timer ticking
began again.

She needed no further prompting, her fingers dipped back into the box and
retrieved the small penis she had originally chosen. Her feet still being
linked sole to sole made the maneuvering difficult, but she finally managed
to get the tip into the entrance of her rectum - then she closed her eyes
and eased it in. Again, the slowness of her movements the arch of her
neck as her eyes closed all of it was extraordinarily erotic to her silent
watcher in the shadows.

Even as she reached for the penis destined for her front passage, he ran the
leather strap that would soon be added to her belt through his hands. Nearly
time to take her to the next level and let her do it all to herself.



Part 7

Ills' nostrils flared as her breathing quickened when the second dildo
began to ease into her. Again, her captor in the shadows watched intently,
still running the leather strap through his hands as he watched her. It
seemed impossible to him that she could be so ignorant of the effect her
arched neck and slow, almost teasing insertion was having on him.

Still, she finally got it fully inserted and by her expression, she was a
confusing mixture of aroused and uncomfortable. She was about to get more
uncomfortable.

As Ills was trying to get her breathing back under control, she heard his
voice again. "You see? That wasn't so difficult, was it, Miss Ills? Now -
let's make sure that nothing undoes your excellent work."

The leather strap was thrown from the shadow and bumped into her leg. "Pick
up the strap, Miss Ills - it attaches to the front and back of your belt.
And be sure that you get it snug enough to prevent any slipping."

Still flushed, Ills didn't even think of disobeying this command even though
maneuvering to attach the strap was extremely awkward with her feet still
bound sole to sole. He didn't bother to wind the timer, he just sat back and
enjoyed her twisting and grunting as she wrestled with his latest order. All
in all, it must have taken her at least five minutes to get the belt in
place and tightened enough to satisfy him.

"One more notch - yes, yes that's much better, Miss Ills Now I'm afraid
I have some bad news for you. You've accumulated far too many penalty
points. It's time to redeem some of them."

As her hands automatically clutched at her sweater, he smiled. He'd let her
keep that for just a bit longer. "To halve your penalty points, you have a
choice, Miss Ills You may either cut the remains of your leotard free of
your body -- or take 10 strokes of the whip. If you wish to lose the
leotard, pick up the scissors. If you prefer the whip, bow your head and put
your hands behind your back. If you do not chose one or the other within 30
seconds, you will suffer both."

The thought of the whip tearing into her flesh terrified her. She reached
for the scissors so quickly that she nearly knocked them away by accident.
The near-mistake unnerved her further and her hands were shaking badly as
she worked her hands up inside her sweater to begin to slice the neck of her
leotard.

Despite her intentions, working on the sweaty leotard caused her sweater to
ride up on her torso in a most enticing manner. He caught a glimpse of her
bra - a sports one. Beige instead of the royal blue of her leotards and
panties. Functional, but disappointing. Still, the swell of her breasts
pressing against the fabric gave the promise of better things beneath.

He gave a soft sigh of regret as she finally pulled the leotard free and
tugged her sweater back down as low as it would go, but made sure his voice
was composed before he spoke again.

"Fold up the remains of your leotard and lay it in the box with the
remaining dildos. Now as to the remainder of your penalty points
accumulated so fa r" Ills swallowed and closed her eyes as he paused -
apparently considering the cost.

"Your choice again. 10 lashes or you remove your bra. Thirty seconds."

She hesitated, her mind whirling. Then the clock began ticking again.



Part 8

The clock kept ticking. With a sudden panic, Ills realized she had no idea
how many seconds had already passed and how few might remain. She reached
out for the scissors again - only to be halted by the voice.

"No, Miss Ills You did not listen to your instructions well. I did not tell
you to cut off the bra, I told you to remove the bra."

Ills whimpered to plead around her gag - the only way to remove the sport
bra would be to first remove her sweater so that she could pull the bra off
over her head. She tried to tug her feet apart, but of course, the cuffs
didn't give in the least. There was only one choice - the one he had given
her. Lose the bra or face the whip.

Hands shaking as badly as an addict in withdrawal, she clumsily unbuttoned
her sweater and let it slide off of her shoulders. The man in the shadows
smiled in silent but heady triumph as her hands next moved to pull the bra
free of her breasts. They were almost exactly as he had pictured them - a
touch larger perhaps, but nothing that would get in the way of her dancer's
balance.

Her nipples were a deep rosy pink and already 'at attention' from the chill
hitting them combined with Ills' nerves. Her breasts were creamy white - no
nude sunbathing in her past. And her stretching to pull her bra free made
the two orbs quiver most appealingly. Beautiful. His.

She dropped the bra and her hands darted for her sweater. Only to be halted
by the voice again.

"You have not finished, Miss Ills Fold the bra and add it to the box before
you close it and shove it away. Once you have done that, you may slip your
sweater back on."

The folding of the bra and sending the box on its' way was done quickly.
Ills snatched back up her sweater, but she didn't even have one arm fully in
before she heard that sound again. A box sliding across the flooring.

The box was a size that is commonly called a glove box. Slipping her other
arm through the sweater sleeve, she stared at the box and swallowed hard.
Now what?

"You may not button the sweater, Miss Ills Open your present. Now."

The voice, as always, left no room for argument. Ills gave her sweater a tug
in the vain attempt to try and coax it into staying over her breasts, then
picked up the box.

The box's contents were simple - a pair of handcuffs and nothing else.
Shuddering, she looked back to the shadows.

"This next maneuver will be a bit trickier for you, Miss Ills - but for a
dancer of your flexibility, it should pose no real problem. Fasten one cuff
to your right wrist. "

With a resigned moan, Ills complied - though she winced at the sound of the
metal locking into place. She looked to the dangling cuff, but her next
instruction had nothing to do with it.

"Miss Ills - we have come to the time to make use of it again. Pick your
hood back up and put it on."



Part 9

Fingers feeling as numb as her mind, Ills picked the hood back up. It almost
seems silly. Bound as she is, what more difference could the simple, thin
hood make? Still - it made a difference to her.

No choice though - and even though she experienced a sensation she could
only imagine felt like a drowning person going under for the last time, she
pulled the hood down over her head, feeling her nostrils flare and her eyes
widen as they strove to breath and see through the dark fabric.

"Well done, Miss Ills Now - slowly scoot your way back until you feel the
post at your back."

Smiling tightly, he watched as she obeyed - her slightly jerky, inching
movements backwards making her charming breast jiggle in a most appealing
fashion. The occasional light rub of the sweater was keeping her nipples
hard and erect. The surrender was almost complete just a little bit more.

After what seemed to be a horribly long time, Ills finally felt the post
behind. Her fingers nervously trailed along the surface as she waited
tensely for her next instructions. Another soft skidding sound reached her
ears.

"Feel behind you, Miss Ills It is within your reach."

The still dangling cuff rattled as her fingers reached back and found the
leather strap. Under the hood, her brow. Another belt?

"Take the strap around the pole and your torso - buckle it in the front. It
needn't be tight but it must be snug. And to make sure that it is snug, take
your sweater off and place it in your lap for now."

Laying the belt at her side, Ills slipped off her sweater slowly and
shivered again. The soft material tickled her inner thighs as she deposited
it into her lap before re picking the belt up. It took a bit of doing to get
the belt in place and buckled snugly. She'd barely finished when she heard a
noise behind her again.

"Same thing, Miss Ills - but this one goes around the post, under your arms
but over your breasts. Snugly."

The new leather belt was thinner, but it took her longer to work it into the
right position due to the awkwardness. Finally getting it as snug as the
voice demanded, her hands dropped back to her lap. Or at least, that's where
they started for before the voice stopped her again.

"Your last task before you can rest, Miss Ills Put your hands behind the
pole and lock the open cuff around your free wrist."

As Ills groped for the cuff, the man smiled. Then as he heard the click of
the cuff locking, he laughed and moved over.

"Yes, Miss Ills - you will do nicely. I have never had anyone package
themselves up for me quite as nicely - or as thoroughly as you have. You
must enjoy it"

Ills shook her head at that, trying to grunt through her gag in protest. The
barely audible grunts turned in equally barely audible squeals as his hands
engulfed both of her breasts.

"Nonsense - if you hadn't enjoyed it somewhat, you'd have fought more.
Refused. But you didn't. Just think, Miss Ills - every stitch of clothing,
you removed yourself. Every one of your lovely orifices filled with cocks -
inserted by your own delicate hands. Every chain and belt - all applied by
you. Even the hood was pulled on by you. If you hadn't enjoyed doing it, you
would have made me do it to you instead of doing it yourself."

As he continued to kneed her breasts with their horribly sensitive nipples,
he smiled to himself. Soon he would have her mind as bound as her body.
All dancers have to have strict discipline that they exercise on
themselves. He merely had to redirect that discipline to those more in his
tastes.