Stephanie stood off to the side and stared at herself. It was easy to do; they were in a dance studio, which meant the wall facing her was all mirrors. She smiled at herself as she texted with one hand and tweeted with the other. She was a fox, and in her charcoal-colored unitard every curve of her supple frame was on display. Actually, maybe wolf was a better term than fox. After all, her last name was Lobo, and her fans called her ‘Loco Lobo: the Crazy Wolf.’ It was a persona she worked hard to maintain. Almost as hard as she labored to keep her body toned and buffed.
“Steph, are you listening?” Brad said.
She turned to him. “What?”
He sighed and rolled his eyes. “Clearly, you are not! The dancers for the video are ready. Come on, you need to pick one for the one-on-one dance segment.”
“Yeah, yeah, don’t get your panties in a bunch. Be just a sec.”
“You said that ten minutes ago.”
She growled and her upper lip curled. Her nickname was well deserved. The dancers lined up before her all took a little step back. Well, all but one, which got her attention.
Oh, is he brave or foolish? Let’s find out.
Setting down her electronics, she pulled her long golden blonde hair back from her face and tied it behind her head. Brad smiled. He knew from experience what that meant: she was finally focused. She casually strolled along in front of the dancers like a general inspecting his troops. It was all merely for show, although she always did delight in torturing the men in her life. Yet another thing poor old Brad knew from experience, as she’d been tormenting him since he became her manager.
Shit, how long has that been, five years? No, this year makes it six. I remember I cut my demo the day after my nineteenth birthday. Damn, I’m losing focus again! Come on, girl, concentrate let’s see if this guy will do. Well, he’s certainly sizzling enough.
She had to tilt her head way back to look him in the eye. Granted, she was barely five foot, but this guy towered over her. He had to be at least six-four, and she loved his piercing ebony eyes and matching hair. It was also clear that he was a dancer—he was strong, toned, and had those ‘dancer’s legs’ that she loved so much.
She checked his nametag. “So, Alan Green, are you ‘green’ when it comes to dancing?”
The other dancers snickered. Alan pressed his lips together as his jaw muscle twitched.
She smirked. Ah, he’s got some guts, but he can rein in his temper. My kind of guy.
“I would think the answer to that question is obvious,” he said casually.
Her right eyebrow went up. Whoa, smart too! Three for three, definitely my kind of boy toy. “It is, I just wanted to test you, and it seems you reciprocated. Well done. Brad, take the others to the stage, have Cheryl run them through the choreography we worked out. Alan, you stay, we have work to do.”
The other dancers all turned to gaze at him in awe and amazement; a few of them winked at him or smirked.
Brad gestured for them to follow him. “Okay, boys, you heard Mama Wolf. Let’s go, we’re burning daylight.”
They filed out and she took up a position directly in front of Alan, hands on her waist, and grinned up at him.
“Work, eh?” he said. “What… kind of work we talking about?”
She puckered her lips and then grinned. Oh, good one! Love the way he paused and added just the tiniest sexual inflection to that. “Dancing, my man, show me your best moves, on me!”
He was clearly confused. “Wait, on you?”
“Come on, don’t be shy.”
“It’s not that, I just know your reputation, and I’m only a poor college professor. I don’t want to get sued!”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. Look, my man, you’ve seen my videos, right? They’re pretty raunchy. I’ll make it easy for you, hands off the crotch; the rest is fair game so long as it’s part of some move that’ll get the old ‘Oh’ reaction out of the fans.”
“You know what I’m talking about. You see a movie or TV show, or maybe just a commercial or a piece of art, your eyebrow goes up, and you say, ‘Oh.’ It’s that little thing that sets something apart from the mundane.”
“Ah, okay, got it,” he said with a smile and nod.
“That’s my man! Okay, let’s get a beat going here,” she said, turning for the stereo.
She picked up the remote, hit play, and spun to face him. It was surprising how fast and lithe he could be—the man’s body moved like a viper angling for a strike. She guided him through the choreography she and Cheryl had worked out until he had it down—she was again surprised at how quickly he mastered it—and then they started to improvise. She ground her ass into his crotch, he tossed her around, which was amazing, and then he grabbed her and rolled backwards onto his back. It was shocking, and then his hands went to her neck and thigh and he started to essentially bench press her.
“Whoa, good one,” she squeaked.
Up and down she went half a dozen times, then he spun her, flipped her, and planted her on her feet. By the time she got oriented he was up, behind her, and his hands were sliding down her arms.
Damn, he’s not fast, he’s pure lightning! “Okay, my man, let’s try the belt.”
“The what?” he said, clearly confused.
She snatched up the belt, slipped it around his neck, and cinched it down to the preset point. Her wardrobe mistress had a block set so it wouldn’t choke anyone.
She swung around behind him. “On your knees, my man!”
He went down; she planted her bare foot in the center of his back and pulled up.
His hand flew to his neck and he winced. “Oh, not good!”
In an instant, she released him, her eyebrows shot up. “What’s wrong? Shit, did I choke you? It shouldn’t have been able to get that tight!”
He rose and turned to her, his hands at his neck. “No, it wasn’t that, the buckle’s too big. It’s stabbing me.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t think of that,” she said, very contrite.
“It’s okay; I’ll assign a… penance later. After all, you have a video to shoot,” he said, pulling the belt away and holding it before her.
She sucked in air, hard and fast, and shivered. Holy shit, what a rush! Damn, what is going on in my head? Oh, it’s nothing, I just find him hot. Focus, girl, he’s right; we’ve got work to do. Her brow wrinkled as she was confused. Huh, that’s a switch. Usually I’m scolding myself about focusing and not doing my work, but suddenly I am! “Ah… yeah, you’re right. Come on, let’s take it from your little ‘bench press’ move.”
He grinned. “Oh, you liked that one?”
“I, um, ah… yeah,” she choked out, quite sure she was bright red.
She spun away from him, embarrassed to be embarrassed, which only served to heighten it even more. Restarting the music, they got back into the routine, and after the press he set her down on his left shoulder. She was slung over his shoulder, which was quite exciting. His left arm held her legs at the knee to control her and then he slid her down his back. She grinned, enjoying the view of his tight ass. Around her waist went his right arm, his left released her, and he swung her around and in front of him. She let out a squeak as her legs swayed free, she wasn’t sure what she should do with them, and then he resolved the issue. Up came his left arm under her knees, his right slid up to her shoulders, and he had her perfectly cradled in his arms.
Whoa, he’s good! I’m surprised; most guys would take this opportunity to cop a quick feel.
He went down on one knee, set her on her feet, and she pitched forward. As she tried to stabilize, she ended up bending forward, and decided to use it. She wiggled her hips to grind her ass into his face, and then jumped as he gave her some solid smacks to her butt. It surprised and further embarrassed her, but the sound of applause surprised her even more. They both froze for a moment and then spun toward the door, and she bit her lip.
It was Silvana, her best friend and the director of the music video. Actually, she directed all of her videos.
“Great moves, Steph, I love the whole deal,” she said. “You good with using all of it?”
Again the shiver and she licked her lips. Why was she hesitant? “Ah… yeah, sure, why not?”
Silvana shrugged. “Just asking. You guys ready to put the whole thing together and shoot? Tempus fugit.”
They headed out of the rehearsal hall. Silvana made for the studio, Alan for the men’s dressing room, and Steph to her private wardrobe RV. Whenever she had an important event, she always traveled with her own clothes. In fact, she kept her own everything close at hand: clothes, chef, hairdresser, jewelry, makeup, and even some of her furniture. Yes, it meant she needed a virtual convoy to convey her anywhere and cost a fortune, but what did she care? She had plenty of money. As she knew the drill when it came to shooting one of her videos, she got into her special green unitard. They always filmed the whole thing twice. The first time through was with the unitard so that later in post-production the tech boys could work their magic. Once she was ready, she headed into the studio.
The set looked awesome. There was the ‘forest’—a cluster of bare trees with a cloud cyc behind them at center stage. She remembered that term from her days growing up doing community theatre—it was short for cyclorama. On the right jungle vines dangled from the ceiling, and blue floor mats covered the stage on the left in front of a cage. Steph knew the mats were like her, destined to be ‘made over’ in post. She had to wonder what wild images they’d slap on there.
Silvana sat in a chair attached to one of the camera booms. She used the controls to allow her to swoop down to face Stephanie. “Steph, boys, to your marks if you please, I want to do a quick run through of the basic choreography, and we’ll shoot this as we go.”
Brad stepped forward. “Ah… Sil, what about the ending? You still haven’t worked that out.”
“Eh, I’ll come up with something,” she said with a shrug.
He let out a groan as she rose into position and started barking orders to the crew. Stephanie and the guys moved to the jungle and took up their marks. They all stood on low platforms just out of camera range and grabbed a vine, Alan right next to her. She smiled up at him and squirmed as she felt her heart pound.
“We don’t know how this is going to end?” he said.
“Don’t worry about it. Silvana is awesome. Like me, she works best under pressure, and she’s most creative when she just lets ideas flow out of her.”
“Huh, she works like Chaplin.”
Her brow wrinkled as she cocked her head at him. “Who?”
He sighed and rolled his eyes. “Charlie Chaplin, world-famous comedian, writer, director, and—like you—composer. Got his start back in the days of silent movies and he often shot an entire film from nothing more than an idea. No formal script.”
“Wow, sounds like quite the guy. Wait, silent movies? So, no sound? How come?”
Silvana’s angry clap resounded in the room. “Pay attention, people! Come on, let’s do this.”
“Tell you later,” Alan said.
“Okay, quiet on the set, playback, and… action,” Silvana shouted.
Stephanie’s voice, singing her latest hit, came over the speakers, and she and the dancers started their routine. They swung onto the set, dropped to the floor and got into the wolf pack formation, and started to dance. Once they drew close and encircled her, she arched her back and howled. It was her signature move. Then they danced over to the forest as the second chorus started. She struck a seductive pose and wrapped herself about one of the trees.
“It’s time for the hunt, it could be fun, but only if you use the right kind of gun,” the speakers blared.
They danced among the trees, Alan playing the part of the hunter, and they made use of Cheryl’s choreography and the moves Steph and Alan had worked out—including the smacks to her ass. Finally, they moved on to the area with the cage, and the final chorus.
“Cage me, tame me, make me your own; take me, hold me, I’ll crawl to your throne.”
It was here that Silvana paused the action. She climbed down off the camera boom and began to pace. Steph knew this routine. Silvana was crunching ideas in her head.
“Okay, so we want to end with the cage,” she mumbled. “Put the cage far in the back. In fact, put it right in front of the wall and drop in… ah, the red cyc. We can play around with the backdrop in post. What else? Ah, a throne! Guys, check the prop room, see if we got a throne.”
“Yes, ma’am,” a stagehand called out. “We used it for that ‘Kar King’ ad we shot last week.”
She smiled and clapped her hands. “Perfect! Okay, put it just to the right of the cage, and… what else? Oh, Alan, let’s get you in a robe and crown, and you sit on the throne.”
“I get to be king? Awesome,” he said with a smile.
He headed for wardrobe. Silvana moved to the center of the blue mats and slowly turned in a circle.
“Now, what can we do with you guys? Ah, you’ll be the king’s guard, and you’ll present the prize from the hunt to him. Yeah, let’s try that. Let me see, give me a minute to work out the blocking, and we’ll go with a shoot.”
It took a few minutes, but everything was finally ready, and they began filming. The guys lifted Steph in the air, held her above them with her feet together, legs straight and arms out, and carried her toward Alan. From above, she was in the classic cross position, which she knew would cause an uproar.
The dancers slowly brought her across the stage, stood her before Alan, and she felt the air rush from her lungs. He looked so hot.
“Cut,” Silvana shouted. “No, hold it that doesn’t work. We need her crawling to him. So, what about the boys?”
One of the dancers opened his mouth. Steph patted his arm.
“She’s speaking rhetorically,” she whispered. “It’s how she works, she’s essentially thinking out loud.”
He nodded. “Ah, okay.”
“Got it, I know what to do,” Silvana said, snapping her fingers.
They reset the scene and she started crawling, doing her best wolf moves as she headed for Alan. The dancers went through the same moves they’d done in the forest, practically bouncing around her as she crept across the stage. She’d barely gotten a third of the way before Silvana was calling a halt to the shoot. Again she paced, this time faster and harder. That’s how Steph described it when Sil was really concentrating.
“No, no, it’s no good,” she said. “We can’t have them doing the same moves. Let me think. Ah, wait, I know—a gauntlet!”
Steph’s toes curled inside her dance shoes. Did she say gauntlet? Shit, what the hell is she thinking of this time?
In her last video, she’d almost drowned from the water hoses Silvana had the guys blast at her. However, it did win her the MTV award for Best New Video and—for some reason—was considered quite controversial. Some pundits said it had a sexual overtone. So she was ready to give Sil the benefit of the doubt and trust her. They got back into position, she started crawling, and the guys created a gauntlet. They ran and danced, and jumped over her and a couple of them stood in a line with their legs spread to form a tunnel that she slid through on her belly. It made her shiver, and then she let out a squeak as their little human subway tunnel became a spanking machine.
Silvana loved it and encouraged it, and then Steph reached Alan on the throne. She got on her knees, looked up at him, and an idea came to her. Bending way over, which put her ass high in the air, she kowtowed to him like a slave before her master. It was humiliating, but it also sent bolts of sexual fire shooting through her. As she looked up at him, her brow wrinkled in confusion. He wasn’t focused on her. How could he not be? Then she understood—Silvana was behind her signaling to him. He rose from the throne and approached her. Her muscles tightened in both fear and excitement at what he was going to do. His large hands seized her upper arms. Up she went, her heart pounded, and then he spun around and threw her into the cage. She rolled across the padded floor and got oriented just in time to see him slam the door.
“Cut,” Sil called out. She got up and moved to stand next to Alan as he stood before the cage. “Not bad, but we’re still missing something.”
“The ‘Oh’ reaction, Madam Director?” he said.
She chuckled. “Ah, Mama Wolf told you about that, eh? Yeah, we’re close, but not quite there. Let me ponder it for a moment.”
Sil turned and walked away, Alan shifted to watch her, and Steph moved to the cage door. Her chest tightened as she grabbed it. It was as if the metal was plugged into an electrical socket as she felt as if a jolt of pure energy had shot through her body.
The door was locked.
She shivered and licked her lips. She was trapped, she was truly caged, and she was Alan’s prisoner. The metal was cold in her fingers yet blood pounded in her ears and she could feel sweat trickle between her shoulder blades and breasts. She knelt there, holding the bars and tried to speak, to plead for her release, but her mouth had gone dry as a desert. The thought of that, of Alan keeping her caged like an animal sent her mind and body into overdrive. She was totally mortified, and yet she also felt herself growing damp between her legs.
“Let’s see, what can we build from her lyrics?” Silvana mumbled. “We’ve got the cage, we’ve got her crawling, and you do hold her, but… what else? We need something hot. Hot, that’s it! We use that line ‘tame me’ together with you as king and your sizzling moves.”
“My… moves?” Alan said.
She smiled. “Yeah, you had one particular ‘move’ that is often used in the taming process. So, we’ll just have you do it some more.”
Steph stiffened, her glutes in particular becoming rock hard as she shivered at what Sil might be suggesting. She and Alan whispered, smiled, and then slowly turned to face Steph. She felt like a little girl facing Mommy and Daddy as she got caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
Alan smiled. “We got it worked out.”
“You ready, Steph? Come on out and we’ll run it,” Silvana said.
“I… um, the door’s stuck.”
Alan smirked, Silvana grinned, and a general murmur of giggles resounded around the studio.
“Are you locked in, my dear?” Silvana said, nice and loud.
That was it, the place exploded with roars of laughter. Steph didn’t need a mirror to know she was beet red as waves of humiliation washed over her. Her eyes fixed on Alan, and she felt herself becoming flushed. That image—her caged and Alan standing over her—took her embarrassment and transformed it into the most powerful erotic sensation she’d ever known. He stepped over to the cage, wiggled the door, and easily opened it, which only made her disgrace all the stronger.
He smiled down at her and held out his hand to her. “Come along, my pet, I’ll set you free.”
“Ah… ah, okay,” she choked out.
Out she went, the giggles continuing until Sil silenced them with a few claps, and they reset the scene. The music played, she crawled, the guys danced—and the smacks fell again—and Alan waited on his throne. With each step, he loomed larger and larger in her view, and she finally reached his feet. She swallowed hard and then her jaw dropped as he reached down, seized her up in his arms, and threw her across his lap.
Holy shit, is he going to… to…?
“Cut,” Silvana shouted.
“What’s wrong?” Alan said, still holding her in place.
“It’s still not working,” she replied. “Ah, it’s your outfit. Wardrobe, we need a change here, please!”
Alan hoisted her to her feet, rose and walked past her, and followed Sil to a dressing room. Steph stood there chewing her lip and playing with her fingers, and wondered what in the world they were planning. The dancers took the opportunity to hydrate, and her eyes grew large at the sight that greeted her on Alan’s return. He was in boots, a crown and a Speedo, and nothing else! The only thought in Steph’s mind was sex; she could not believe how hot he looked. She almost laughed. The gay members of the dance line were practically drooling.
Sil stepped up next to him grinning like a hungry lioness. “Now he looks right for the part. People, shall we commence?”
“Yes,” most of the dancers shouted.
Steph could only nod.
Sil took her seat, paused for a moment, and then turned to her. “Ah, Steph, dear one, first position, please.”
“Yes,” she squeaked.
Back she went to the start point of the scene. The music started, she crawled, the dancers danced—and smacked her ass—and she gazed at Alan upon his throne. She didn’t stop, didn’t even slow, even though she knew what awaited her at the end. Once she was at his feet, it was just like before. He took her, held her, and then proceeded to tame her. Over his lap she went, his bare thighs were firm and supportive, and then came his hand to her still stinging cheeks. It was like in the dance hall only better—and worse. How she could hold those two opposing thoughts in her head she didn’t know, but that was the case. Each smack of his palm enflamed her flesh, and yet she didn’t complain. That was because of the aftermath. There was the sting, the wiggle and wobble to her behind, the rising heat in her glutes, and then came the migration.
It shot straight into her pussy.
She shivered, her teeth chattered, she arched her back ever so slightly, and her hands locked onto the base of the throne as if she was riding the wildest rollercoaster in her life. Then, suddenly, his hands were at her waist, up in the air she went, and he tossed her into the cage. The door slammed shut with a clang, Alan turned to the dancers, and in an instant he was leading them in a victory dance before the cage. She lay there on her side, propped up by her left arm, her right slipping behind her to lightly caress her achy cheeks, and she licked her lips.
Oh, that was wild! And what an awesome view I got going on in front of me.
It was true. Alan and the guys went through a wild, almost feral routine. A dance of domination, their hips gyrating before her. If it wasn’t massive cocks in skin-tight tights, it was rock-hard glutes pulsating, and the twin images blended with the throbbing between her legs to drive her wild. Now she was the feral one. Lost in passion, no conscious thoughts at all, she hurled herself at the bars and clawed at Alan like a hungry wolf chasing her prey. Yet, he stayed tantalizing just out of reach. The ‘Dance of Torment’ seemed to last an hour, but ended in an instant.
“Cut,” Sil shouted. “Wow, people, that was killer. Okay, let’s get back to the jungle and run it again. Alan, would you release your little wolf pup?”
He and Sil chuckled as he did so, and Steph was surprised at herself—she didn’t immediately get up. Once she did, her hands instinctively moved to cup her stinging seat, but she managed to stop them midway there. To rub in front of everyone would be truly mortifying.
Damn, that’s right; we have to shoot this a lotttttt more times. Oh, this is going to be a long day!