The dance

Is D/s always about discipline and punishments? No and for some, it plays no part in the dynamic whatsoever.  D/s is ultimately about power exchange. The willingness of the submissive to be under the control of the Dominant.  The abilities of the Dominant to look after their sub and feed the submissive’s need for dominance.

When there are constraints, on time and location, the play can be intense and the scenes require thought and planning.  For both parties, there is the anticipation and excitement of waiting for the opportunity to stop being who they are in the vanilla world and become what they desire to be. It is sometimes described as a dance, a choreography of a couple, moving along on their own unique journey.

tango

Gemma is a dancer.  She likes to dance for her own pleasure.  Jason struggles with her need to dance and that it involves others.  Her dance partners.  So when she tells him about one particular dance class, he can’t sit idly by.  She has to be repossessed and put back under his control.

******

“We did something a little different today in our Salsa class,” began Gemma putting her knife and fork together. “Change of pace.”

“Oh?” Jason settled back in his seat and eyed his wife suspiciously.

“An experiment in different dance styles, for fun,” she started to collect the dirty plates together.

“Leave them. Tell me more,” he said. “What type of dance did you do?  Gemma!” He was adamant to find out more.

“Oh, the tango,” she said quietly.

“The tango!  With whom?” Jason’s eyes narrowed.

“With Graham and a couple of others. Not everyone could do it, so we swapped partners a little,” she explained, eyes remaining on the dirty dishes.

“Swapped around.  A difficult dance was it?” He leaned forward now, pushing the plates to one side.

“Yes.  You know, intense and requiring a lot of concentration.  Steps are very different from salsa.” She traced her finger along the grain of wood in the table surface.

“Intense?  Well, Gemma, if you’re going to whore yourself dancing the tango with other men, I’m going to have to re-establishment my ownership of you.  Tomorrow evening, I’m going to have all of you,” he said the last part very softly and with a seductive tone.

“All of me?” she repeated.

“Yes, babe, remember that when you think of dancing the tango.” He stood up and left her to stack the dishwasher with a heart shredded by nervous excitement.

When Jason entered the house on Wednesday evening, there was no music blaring out this time.  Brooks had provided the evening meal and Gemma had nothing more to do than reheat the dish in the oven.  Throughout the quiet meal she glowed and her flesh tingled with anticipation.  She had been on heat all day, unable to concentrate, to fashion sensible thoughts.  All of her, he had said.  That meant he was going to take total possession of her.  She swallowed a mouthful of food, not daring to look at him, she did not need any more stimulation, not yet.

Jason had also struggled with the day.  Work had been pleasingly productive, with everyone delivering on time and to his high standards.  The problem had been the image of his wife dancing with other men.  Swinging around to the fast paced salsa he could tolerate, however, images of her with men dancing the sultry tango were not what he wanted to haunt his day.  He tapped his pen throughout the entirety of one meeting, no doubt irritating the others.  He did not care. If it stopped him going hard and pumped up then he would irritate them.

He had the control to make her wait longer and Jason opted to spend an hour in his study finishing off emails to his American staff.  Then he switched everything off and turned his phone to voicemail.  Absolutely no interruptions would be tolerated.  Gemma was sitting in the larger of the two sitting rooms, curled up in a chair and unsuccessfully attempting to read a book.  She had squashed her knees tightly together and was sucking hard on a strong peppermint sweet. The heat from it she would use on him later.

“Go and preparing yourself for me,” was all he said to her when he found her sat there.  Nothing romantic in those words, but then she was not expecting romance tonight.  She went immediately to do as he asked, taking her time to prepare her body for him.

Finding her knelt naked on the floor in the bedroom, Jason stripped down to his jeans.  The office suit had been removed earlier after the meal.  No underpants and he bared his chest for her, knowing it would incense her further. Gemma could not take her eyes from him, the bulge in his jeans was prominent and he must be very hard for her.  How he contained himself was a mysterious to her.  She leaked for him all day.  She looked up at his face when he came to rest right in front of her.  He took her face in his hands and ran his thumbs down her cheeks.  Jason’s face was unemotional and impassively fixed as was his piercing eyes. Gemma had been with Jason long enough to now to know such a face hid a fountain of passionate desires.  She knew he wanted her as much as she did him. Their twin emotional states fed off each other; the desperate need to please one another.  The difference was he would dominate and control Gemma for her pleasure, whereas she would submit and give herself to him for his.

“Remember your safe-words, Gemma,” he said softly.

“Yes, sir,” she replied solemnly.

The gentleness was gone.  He grabbed her ponytail and propelled her up and towards the bed where he had the rope laid out ready and waiting for her.

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