Dance Commander

a short story by Dan Standing


“Just go right over there, past the divider and stage, and talk to him.”

Yasmine’s eyes looked into the building along the direction of the pointed finger and spotted a tall gaunt man seated at a round table working at a laptop. She looked up into the small eyes of the large man at the door – a bouncer who called himself Guth – and thanked him. Stepping inside Yasmine’s shoes – six inch heels with a two inch platform – clacked loudly on the cement floor. They were pink and matched the micro-skirt that barely covered any of the mocha-skinned girl’s somewhat flat ass – although they did nicely compliment her long thin legs.

As she passed the ticketing and coat check area of the Gentleman’s Review club Yasmine passed the divider into the stage area and immediately stopped.

The rumors were true.

Besides the thin man with his nose buried in his laptop the only other person in the entire room was a woman on stage. Completely nude except for the bright red ballet heels that adorned her feet the blonde pole dancer was an absolute knock-out. Yasmine’s eyes were captivated by her body; breasts like soccer balls swung and shifted with an impossibly natural grace; her waist waspishly small; her hips and ass billowing out to grant symmetry to her exaggerated chest. The observing woman was amazed by the dancer’s fine musculature, which was absolutely necessary given the swinging and climbing she was doing on the pole that rose up from the floor to the ceiling.  And the angle and length of her heels were just-


Yasmine’s glassy stare was broken by the seated man standing up. She immediately adjusted her micro-bikini top – which just covered the nipples that adorned her apple-sized breasts – and checked to make sure her dark hair’s pixie cut was in order. Then she puffed out her chest and strutted over to him.

“And you would be…” the man asked, holding out his hand. Yasmine took it and they shook.

“Yasmine Candor, I saw your ad for a dancer?” The sentence hadn’t intended to come out as a question but it certainly sounded like one.

“I see…” the man replied, closing his laptop, “I’m George Almond, I’m the owner. And we are in need of dancers, many have left since…” George’s eyes glanced to the woman on stage and then back to Yasmine, his face clearly showing he didn’t know how to continue the sentence.

“I had heard stories, but I couldn’t find any actual articles about what happened. Do you mind if I ask?”

“No, not at all…if you are going to be working here you should know the whole story. And fortunately for Desire no one really believes it…or me. I was the only one who saw what happened. And trust me, I have called in anyone I can think of to see if anything can be done for her. So far…well, I think you can see the results of that.”

Both of them looked up at the center stage as Desire wrapped her thighs around the pole and held her body backwards off of it – her breasts sliding across her chest and practically filling the space under her shoulders as she threw out her arms. She held the position a moment then broke and went into another routine. George turned back to Yasmine but her attention was not pulled away until the man started talking again.

“It happened one afternoon, just like this one, actually. Guth was outside somewhere – I’ve never gotten a straight answer from him, actually. I was up in the sound booth…” George pointed up at a window a story above them that looked out over the stage, “…I sort of use it as an office. Anyway, Desire had just bought the ballet heels she still has on and had come in early so she could practice her routine with them.

“You see, I like to hire women of all body types – as long as you’re healthy most men like a variety. At the time Desire had a body much like yours. She wasn’t happy with it and was trying to raise enough tips for surgery, which I guess those ridiculous shoes were supposed to help with.

“Anyway, she was alone on the stage practicing when this little guy shows up. I don’t know how he got past Guth but I spotted him out the sound booth window – he just meandered in and took a seat right in front of Desire. Short guy…not even 5 foot, I’d wager. Scruffy face but wearing a tweed suit. Didn’t look homeless. I was going to come down and ask him to leave but Desire had stopped dancing and was speaking to him from the stage. I figured she had everything under control…I didn’t even think he could have gotten onto the stage if he wanted to.

“So, I go back to what I’m doing, just keeping one eye on the stage to stay on top of things, when I see it happen. Suddenly Desire’s body started changing. I could see the bikini top she had on start to stretch and press into her expanding flesh. I mean literally – her breasts were growing! They went from baseballs to…well…that…” George motioned to Desire’s head-sized breasts swaying from her form, “…and no sooner had she ripped off her top when suddenly her waste sucks in and her ass starts to overflow her thong!”

“Wow…” Yasmine finally said. Her body was flushed and beading a light layer of sweat…and other moisture. She had been hanging on George’s every word, “What did you do?”

“Me? Nothing. It was all so surreal, all I could do was watch. I saw her pull the thong off and just stand there, naked save for those ridiculous shoes with one hand locked on the pole to keep from tipping over. She looked happy about what had happened, and I saw them talk a little more before she began to perform for the guy. I couldn’t believe it – she grabbed the pole with her other hand and went right into this amazing routine. Once I had collected my wits I jumped up and ran down here. But when I arrived the little guy was gone.

“And Desire wouldn’t stop dancing.

“I ran up and tried to talk to her but she ignored me. I tried to pull her away from the pole but…some force was keeping me from disrupting her. There was nothing I could do; she just kept going. And she has ever since…wow, has it been almost six months now?”

“Six months…” Yasmine repeated under her breath, looking back at Desire.

“Yeah. She doesn’t eat, she doesn’t sweat, she doesn’t…do anything else. Her hair hasn’t grown one inch and not a bit of make-up has smeared. Even her shoes haven’t scuffed. The media thinks its all some sort of publicity stunt and have ignored it, but the dancers know better. Some have left in fear he’d be back. Those still here split up whatever tip people try and give Desire.”

“She’s…I mean, that’s amazing,” Yasmine proclaimed, tearing away from eternal dancer’s routine and looking back to George.

“You still interested?”

“Am I?!” Yasmine exclaimed, “Of course! I’d be honored to dance beside her, and I don’t fear that guy showing up again.”

“Very well,” George replied, picking his laptop off the table, “Stay here and I’ll get the paperwork.”

As George turned and walked towards a door in the far wall Yasmine turned back towards Desire. Again the nearly hired dancer’s skin went warm and her brunette hair shook as her body shivered a little. Slowly walking towards the center of the table area she grabbed a chair and sat down dead center in front of Desire. As the spectator watched the sexualized form stretch and pose before her she wanted to run her hands across-

“Nice work, is not she?”

The voice was slightly high pitched, but definitely male and slightly gruff with an odd syntax. Yasmine turned and came face to face with a scruffy little man in a tweed suit.


“Vixus Paxidori, madame,” the man replied, putting out his hand. Yasmine just stared at it, and after a moment the tweedy gentleman retracted it.

“You’re the one who-”

“Gave Desire what asked she for, correct,” Paxidori replied, grabbing himself a chair and pulling up next to Yasmine, except angled so he could watch both the seated woman and Desire.

The brunette was actually trying to unseat herself, but could not. The rest of her body worked just fine, but she couldn’t get up. It was like her butt was stuck to the chair. The man clearly sensed her attempts.

“No reason to fear, madame,” Paxidori spoke up, “Just something keep chat at calm.”

“What did you do to her?” Yasmine asked, looking back to Desire. The blonde woman was bent over backwards again at a seemingly impossible angle, her breasts almost hanging in the small audience’s faces.

“Only the bargain forged between she and I, I swear!” the little man exclaimed, throwing up his arms, “I came in and dancing saw her, but when I sat she stopped. She claimed showtime it was not yet and I claimed it was clearly. When she insisted otherwise I asked what needed her to dance for now. She shouted, ‘Give me the body I want and I will dance for you whenever you like for the rest of your life!'”

She challenged you to pay for her surgery… Yasmine should have been terrified by what the man was saying but her reaction was quite the opposite. Discretely she rested one of her hands on her thigh, her fingers hanging into the crevice of her legs.

“So I gave what wanted…and now she dances when I want.”

“But she hasn’t stopped…” Yasmine said quietly.

“She dances when I want…” Mr. Paxidori repeated. The brunette hadn’t looked away from Desire and Paxidori took note of it. “You dance here, too?”

“Not yet…” the seated woman replied, “I haven’t been hired yet.”

“Body like hers help?”

“It…it wouldn’t hurt, I guess…”

Yasmine almost didn’t notice her body changing until her top started to dig into her skin. Only breaking off her stare on Desire to see what was wrong the blossoming woman gasped as she saw her breasts overwhelming her top. Quickly untying the painful material she dropped it and her skirt to the floor when that also began to restrict her swelling ass and hips. Yasmine moaned and ground her inflating butt against the chair as her hands moved to her breasts and crotch.

Normally she never would have begun pleasuring herself with the strange man right next to her, but it felt to Yasmine as if he wasn’t there.

But he certainly was.

“My body…is like hers…” she quietly observed as two fingers pushed inside her slick slit. Her the thumb pushed through the folds and pressed on her clit and the Yasmine’s body jolted, causing her new enormous breasts to quiver under the care of her other hand. Their weight pulled on her ribs and bumped against her exploring arms but none of it was painful.

Mr. Paxidori had indeed morphed Yasmine’s body into an exact duplicate of the curvy Desire’s. He raised an eyebrow as the funny man examined the masturbating woman’s reaction to his magic.

“You not come for dance…job…” he said, putting a hand to his chin, “…you came for dance-her.”

It was a part of Yasmine that the young woman had never wanted to accept; she was attracted to other women. But she was afraid. And the rumors of a naked woman who could do nothing more but dance had grabbed hold of Yasmine’s imagination; someone she could see without fear of rejection or expectation.

Or judgement.

“She’s beautiful…” Yasmine replied, her gaze locked on the gyrating Desire once more, “I just want to watch her dance…pleasure her…me…just be…” Her sentence was cut off as a wave of pleasure swelled through her body and she arched and stretched with a silent gasp.

“Mr. Paxidori can do that for you,” the little man smiled. Yasmine would have paid him no mind if it wasn’t for the fact that she felt a momentary twinge of pain down her arms. Suddenly they split in half, and four invasive appendages ran over the brunette’s squirming form.

It wasn’t long before George emerged from the door in the wall. Before he even had the chance to say anything his eye caught the naked four-armed woman seated dead-center in front of the stage. He simply stopped. Had it not been for the extra arms and enhancements he may have continued forward and confronted Yasmine, but it was pretty clear that the same little man had visited. When George cleared his throat and got no response from the self-pleasuring woman he simply sighed and went off to find Guth.

Yasmine was in heaven. She couldn’t stop pleasuring herself – and she wouldn’t – and she didn’t want to. Her upper arms, the originals, pinched her nipples and spread her unending juices to every part of her body. She loved feeling the soft and luscious form that was now hers.

Especially since it wasn’t entirely hers.

All Yasmine felt of the second set of arms was what touched their palms. Mr. Paxidori had made it so that whatever part of the seated woman’s body the lower arms caressed it was Desire’s body that actually felt the attention. Little changed of the dancer’s routine, except now and then a small shudder would pass through her body and a smile could be seen for a split second.

And thus the pair stayed as they were, Yasmine pleasuring the two while Desire continued her unending dance. George banned any of the dancers from coming by during the afternoon and Mr. Paxidori did not grant any more favors, but he did still drop by to see his favorite couple.

Their dance was the best by far. And it would go on for as long as he desired.


Copyright 2011 Dan Standing Entertainment