
"She was making a name for herself within Burlesque shows up and  down the country. Reviews said she had a sparkle about her, a lithe  sequin like quality, a sexuality that shimmered beyond that of other  performers. Her secret was him. He wouldn’t accompany her to the shows, but she knew he was in  the audience. Somewhere, beyond the faces she could see, would be the  eyes of the man she couldn’t. He with a gaze that could melt her heart  and her knickers in equal measure.
She would flaunt each outfit, each routine for the crowd. Their  cheers and applause surrounded her like a mist, within which she moved  like a storm, crackling, roaring, possessed. She wondered what he might be thinking, of how he could react  when he saw her. Would it be the softness of a man deeply in love, or  would he tear her apart like a man on the run. Within either extreme she  might be bound, tortured, teased.
Each outfit would be her ignite to see how the mood and the  moment would take him. Tonight her routine was ‘The Magician’s  Assistant’. She knew she looked cut in that top hat. She wondered how  hard his cock would throb at the thought of her velvet gloves. Pondered  still if he would take one and smooth it feverishly over her clit. Would  she be bound. Tonight she yearned to be bound. More so, tonight she wanted to be taken. She cut extra holes  in the web of her fishnets, that he might tear at her. Sweet fucking  christ she wanted to be taken. Bent over, that tearing sound, his cock  deep in her in one long hard thrust. Tonight she wanted no words of longing and romantic. She wanted  to feel him pierce the bubble of her arse, just as he was spunking. His  lube pushing his deeper into her, past the pain, that delicious pain, to  feel him throb and moisten his heat deep within her.
There was a spanking for which she felt she’d deserved. Fishnets torn, he was going to hurt her, punish her, make her giggle and scream within equal measure. There was the time when - after stinging her backside to a degree  of red raw within the way that he smacked it - he had cum over them  afterwards. An effect like gunpowder and popping candy within the smart,  the divine pleasure.
Yet, she didn’t know how he would react. To the show, to the  outfit, to her dance, to the people. Just how was he going to mark her? Take her?  How hard would he make her cum?
Just where was he in the audience?"
(Via ridiculouslybeautiful) 


 
 
 
 
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