From: nogarder@ix.netcom.com(*** )
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: Man Dancer (femdom)
Date: 23 Jan 1996 23:54:41 GMT

From: an179705@anon.penet.fi (Rajah Dodger)
Date: Wed, 13 Sep 1995 18:14:02 UTC
Subject: ManDance (mfff)

[(c) 1995 Rajah Dodger and reproduction rights under not-for-profit
arrangements are hereby released as long as attribution to Rajah
Dodger remains.]


			      Man Dance

	It had seemed like a great idea at the time. Why hit the bars,
blowing money in each one until he found a girl who was in the mood,
when there was one place sure to be stocked with horny women? If he
had known what he would experience...

	He got to the male strippers club shortly before closing time,
set his two-door in the lot not far from the front door, and got out
to lean against the car and wait. He wore his best silk shirt and a
pair of skin-tight leather slacks. A faintly menacing smile played
across his lips as he waited.

	Sure enough, the doors opened and a stream of women came out,
talking, laughing, giggling, in twos and threes and larger groups.
Some passed by him without a glance, others stopped briefly admiring
his car, or tossed a lewd comment as they went by. "New in town,
sailor?" "Is that sausage for display or for sale?" That last comment
hit home - most of the women coming out of the club were well-built,
and the tightness of his crotch was starting to hurt.

	Just as he was about to give up the idea, three women stopped
to talk. "Hey, guy," said a strawberry blonde in a blousy sweater,
"waiting for somebody to get off work, or would you be interested in a
private show?" This was what he had been waiting for! "Well, I might
be interested... where would the show be?"

	The blonde went back to her friends, a tall redhead and a
petite one. The tall one was wearing a mannish suit, while the smaller
one was in a peasant blouse and skirt. He hoped they would decide
quickly - he had definite plans for all of them. Soon enough the
blonde returned. "It's too complicated to give you directions, so we
decided I should ride in the car with you and follow my friends. I'm
Ginny. Shall we go?"

	He grinned, executed a formal bow, and opened the car door for
her, then got in and started following her friends. "Have you been at
the club long?" she asked. "Not very," he replied, thinking, "this is
great - they really think I'm an off-duty dancer!" He turned toward
her to continue the conversation, and saw her squeezing her breasts
through her sweater. "Don't lose control, friend, I'm just keeping the
fires burning here. I hope you can... follow the warmup act!" The
thought reminded him of his cock, swollen and constricted in his
pants. He winked at her, suppressed a groan, and continued to follow
the other car.

	They arrived at a nondescript suburban house. The shorter
redhead got out of the lead car and opened the garage, where they
parked both cars. He followed them in through the kitchen to the
living room. The tall redhead, who introduced herself as Sandy, fixed
drinks all around while her shorter counterpart, Meg, busied herself
arranging the furniture. Ginny put some music on the stereo, and
announced "All right, ladies, the warmup show will now begin. You know
the rules!" - and with that, grabbed him by the arm and started close
dancing with him. She was a good dancer, too; they did a two-step
followed by a salsa move that could have been on Bandstand - or Dirty
Dancing. Just as they started to move into a vertical bop, Sandy cut
in. While not as good a dancer as Ginny, she could definitely swing
her body, and with her jacket off he could tell there was a good body
there to swing. Sandy was quickly replaced by Meg, and the height
difference became a turn-on as her breasts rubbed across his belly,
too close to his crotch for comfort and yet too far for
satisfaction...

	The music came to an end, and Ginny said, "We have an outfit
we'd like to see you in, if it's okay." At this point, he would have
been glad to dance naked. "If you'd follow me back here, I'll show you
what we have." She led him into a stark room with bare walls, a low
bench, a bed and a closet. On the bed was a tux cut-away jacket, tux
shirt, black slacks with a matching set of suspenders, and something
that looked like bikini briefs, but with string ties on each side of
the waist. She left while he stripped and put on the outfit. The
"briefs" were just a thin piece of silky material in an hourglass
shape, with barely enough elastic in the border to hold his cock
without it spilling out. There were also a pair of thin black
slippers, which he put on without socks. When he went back into the
living room, the lights were down except for two ceiling spots aimed
at the center of the room. He started "strutting his stuff", doing
moves he remembered seeing at the ballet and some from TV - the music
was fast rock, and he spun and twisted as he got into the mood.

	With the lights trained on him, he couldn't really see the
girls just outside his area, but they cheered him on as he removed,
twirled and tossed the tux jacket. The music turned to Pink Floyd, Yes
and King Crimson as he attempted to keep up the pace he had set. Those
hours at the health club were paying off now, and he wanted to keep
his audience happy. He undid one button of the shirt at a time,
finally removing it completely to loud applause and whistles, and
swinging it at arms length, feeling it brush against each member of
his audience until he let it go. A voice (Ginny's, he thought) said
"All right, now, let's really get to it!"

	He did poses, ballet leaps, kicks and turns for a short while,
but knew these women wanted more. He started doing the twist in one
spot, pulled the zipper down, and shimmied as the pants snaked their
way down his legs to the floor. The voices in the shadows liked that
move! He stepped out of the slacks and flipped them away with one
foot. He thought as he did so that he felt something scrape at his
ankle, but still couldn't see clearly beyond his circle of light.

	Now down to briefs and slippers, he bumped and ground as the
music slowed down - the Beatles' "Revolution", Clapton's original
version of "After Midnight", Rod Stewart's "Tonight's the Night". He
did a spin kick and felt someone grab the slipper off his foot. A
split, and as he got up a hand reached in and got the other slipper.
Then an arm (had to be Meg) reached in and pulled the ties, zipping
his briefs away! He stopped dancing in surprise as the lights went out
but the music continued. A voice suddenly whispered in his ear, "Don't
stop now, big boy" and he felt the unmistakable pressure of a pair of
breasts at his back and hips against his buttocks. He began to bump
and grind again, the body behind him matching his every move and
slowly moving him across the room. He could not tell where he was
going, but had decided this was Sandy from the high spot her breasts
were hitting him.

	The music changed to a rhumba, as he collided cock first with
another body in front of him. He automatically grabbed her by the
hips, as the body behind him did the same to him, and the sandwich
worked its way forward in the dark. His cock was trapped with the
shaft between the ass cheeks of the girl in front, the head bumping
her spine with every step. The breasts behind him were erect now, he
felt the tips of the nipples burning into his back. Suddenly the body
in front disappeared, the hands at his hips grabbed his wrists and he
felt his arms tied behind his back.

	"Hey, what gi- mmmff!" He started to protest as something was
pushed into his mouth. The person at his back quickly frog-marched him
to a low bench, fastened both ankles to cuffs and untied his arms,
then put them into cuffs behind his head. Now the lights came on,
glaring into his eyes. He was in the same room he had dressed in,
securely tied down on the bench, his cock still standing tall form the
rhumba sandwich. All three women were naked around him, as Ginny said,
"You can talk the talk, big boy, but can you walk the walk?" With that
she pulled the gag out of his mouth and replaced it with her pussy.
"Keep me entertained, friend - keep us all entertained!"

	As he started licking, he felt fingers toying with his penis,
the nails lightly running up the shaft to the crown, a hand hefting
his balls, then rimming his anus. Ginny's legs were over his ears, so
he could only react to what he felt and Ginny's movements. One of his
arms was untied, and his hand was placed on a breast. Sandy's he
guessed, which meant that Meg was the one teasing him at the other
end. He massaged the breast as he nibbled, kissed and licked Ginny's
vagina. He ringed her clitoris, feeling her response even as his hand
was moved to Sandy's other breast. His tongue made a beeline for her
vagina, where Meg's fingers and tongue were keeping him on the edge of
being able to come. He thrust his hips, but into unresisting air.

	Now Ginny pressed heavily on his mouth, nearly breaking his
nose with the force of her pubic bone as she came on his tongue. He
was dizzy from lack of air by the time she got up from his face, and
his cock was throbbing painfully. "You should really thank Meg for
keeping you busy, you know," Ginny said, and with that Meg straddled
his head facing his feet. He had a choice of holes, and tested the
rosebud nearest him.

	As Meg wriggled and settled onto his face, Sandy moved his
hand from her breast to her bush, and he worked his fingers around
there. He wondered what Ginny was doing, when the bench fell away from
his hips - there must have been a drop-flap there. A pair of hands
began to massage his butt, occasionally reaching up to toy with his
still- aching cock and balls. She rubbed some kind of lotion into his
anal crack, then worked one finger up his ass. He started jerking and
jumping, as much as he could in his tied position, and his fingers and
tongue redoubled their efforts for Sandy and Meg. Everything started
happening at once then. First Sandy clenched his hand between her
thighs, then Meg reached down and grabbed his ass as she pushed her
ass onto his probing tongue, and Ginny's finger found his prostate and
pushed him over the edge as he shot and jerked and twisted and
screamed and shot...

	When he came to, he was curled up in the back seat of his car,
in the parking lot at the dance club, and it was late morning. Had it
all been a dream? He was wearing his leather pants, his silk shirt was
fully buttoned. He looked up and saw, dangling from the rear-view
mirror, an hourglass-shaped piece of silk with string ties...