Romans & histoires Alone On The Stage

Every movement makes the slick between my thighs worsen, and they know it, that's how they want it because they planned it. “You will walk the stage, don't make eye contact, no growling whatsoever, and present when the auctioneer says.” I nod, my head bowed. “Good bitch,” he smirks, unlocking my chains. The door opens and the lights blind me immediately. The stage is elevated and shaped like a dome, with a glossy black floor that reflects the spotlights and my bare feet. The crowd is already murmuring. Hundreds of Alphas. Some wealthy humans. A few elite betas with power fetishes.

“They all say that until I’m done with them.” I stepped onto the stage as the lights hit me. The music started slow, heavy bass. I grabbed the pole and slid down it, legs spread, eyes scanning the room. Most guys were the usual crowd. But one man sat front and center, different. Expensive watch. Sharp jaw. Dark eyes locked on me like he was studying every move. Interesting. I crawled toward him on all fours, back arched, tits bouncing with each movement. When I reached the edge of the stage, I sat back on my heels and looked straight at him.

What she would say. How she would stand. How she would look him in the eye— And not fall apart. Her grip tightened slightly around Tony. “I’m coming back,” she whispered under her breath. Not to the child. To herself. Back at the grand hall— Silence ruled. Bruno stood on the stage. Alone. Unmoving. The light from above cast shadows along his face, sharpening every line, every angle, turning him into something almost untouchable. The crowd waited. Eyes fixed.

Letting his gaze crawl over the dozen girls on stage like he was sampling from a platter, deciding which one was worth tasting. And I was going to make sure he chose me. I dropped into a split, slow enough to make them lose their minds. The front row went feral, waving bills, shoving them onto the stage. One guy even crawled closer until security shoved him back. I began to move, my body remembering the choreography I had practiced a hundred times. But this wasn’t just a practice. It was a performance for an audience of one. Every spin, every dip, was a challenge to him.

No one knew what was going on, and Hermosa wanted to help, but the lights on the main stage suddenly came on. "What's she up to? Now come out and steal the limelight. She's screwing up again what the boss asked us to do with this party. She's really out of her mind." Maggie looked up as soon as she saw Alice, who had suddenly appeared on the stage to pole dance, and felt speechless. The girl on the stage was voluptuous, with a long waist and long legs, and her face was obviously stunning, but her expression and dance were just too flamboyant.

"Perfect. She. I don't know what I'd do without you, Chey." "Probably get lost, or abducted. Maybe fight another thief." "I can assure you, I will never be abducted. If I can hardly tolerate myself, I expect nobody else could either." They laugh at this and rise from the bench. Mira jostled her things about until she has a free arm. She stretches, back to me, and her shirts raises high enough to show the skin and curves of her waist. I nearly forgot about Jonah until he interrupted my view. "You followed me?" He accuses.

Irreversible. One choice. One curtain. Isolde stood there in the spotlight. Not as a performer. But as the only one left who hadn’t rehearsed. And far above her, invisible to the city, millions of shadows waited to see: Would she burn the stage? Or take it?

I won’t be that kinda boyfriend, “No, no. Thank you, though. I gotta just hunker down and do it. Go, have fun.” “I’ll try,” she leans in, kissing me softly, making my heart speed up and slow down at the same time, or at least that’s how it feels. *Nina* “Wait, wait... let me finish. We are all on stage, totally naked, doing the big finishing number, and it just... fell out of me,” one of the girls from the play tells, while Owen strums along on his guitar. Another one jumps in, saying, “On stage? Oh my god, what did you do?”

The stage had been transformed into a ritual space, a large breeding bench in the center, surrounded by spotlights and cameras. I was the main attraction. They brought me out onto the stage completely naked, collared, and chained to the breeding bench in the center. My wrists and ankles were locked in place, legs spread wide, pussy and ass fully exposed to the entire audience. The dean stepped up to the podium first. “Today we celebrate the end of the semester,” he said, his voice calm and professional. “And we thank our most dedicated student, Lila Bennett, for her… contributions to campus life.”