The Dance and the Maid

    Don’t walk through the city alone at night.  That was the one rule every girl knew.  Lock your doors.  Send a guy out if you need something, but don’t go outside yourself.
    The dancers owned the night.
    Melissa laughed at herself.  The dancers had not been seen in three years.  There was no real reason to be afraid.
    The club’s neon light clicked off.  Melissa shivered and took a step closer to the nearest street lamp.  The night was not terribly dark, not with a full moon out.  Despite that, every shadow looked threatening.
    “Come on Dale, you were supposed to be here an hour ago.”  Melissa said quietly.
    Maybe it had been a bad idea to go out dancing after that fight.  Dale was just so stubborn.  Melissa had told him there was nobody else, that Mark was just a friend.  He just did not want to hear it.
    Melissa checked her cell phone.  No messages.  Dale would have called back, no matter how furious he was.  He would not just leave her stranded.  Unless he was drunk.  Again.
    No other choice then.  Melissa typed a message into her phone.  Her thumb hovered over the send button.  Dale might never forgive her, but what other choice did she have?  She pushed the button and prayed that Mark had his phone handy.
    “Miss?  What are you doing out here alone?”
    Melissa shrieked and dropped her phone.  It hit the sidewalk with a loud snapping noise.  She grabbed it and scampered around to the other side of the street light.
    A handsome man was watching her.  He was immaculately dressed, his three piece suit crisp and new looking.  It was obviously custom tailored.
     “I’m sorry, I did not mean to startle you.  Is your phone alright?”  The man asked.
    Melissa glanced down and groaned.  The face plate of her phone was cracked.  She tapped a button experimentally.  Nothing happened.
     “It’s dead.”  Melissa said.
     “How unfortunate.  I must make it up to you.  Do you need a ride somewhere?  The streets are not safe, you know.”
     “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.  I don’t know you.”
    “I understand.”  The man nodded sadly.  “In that case, I wish you luck.”
    He turned and started walking away.  Melissa stared at the man’s back and bit her lip.  Sometimes men took advantage of girls out alone.  They offered to rescue them off the streets, then turned on them at the first opportunity.  If she got into his car he could take her anywhere, and do whatever he wanted.
     Melissa knew she should just wait for Mark or Dale to come for her.  Or maybe she could walk home.  She could probably get back in less than an hour.  That was not very long, what could happen in an hour?
    “Wait.”  Melissa said.
    The man stopped.
    “I changed my mind.”
    “Excellent.  My transportation is just around the corner.”
    Melisa tentatively joined the man.  He smelled nice up close.  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm down and slow her pounding heart.
     They turned the corner and Melissa froze.  The street was crowded with people in fine clothing.  All of them were young and beautiful, and absolutely silent.
     “What is this?”  Melissa said.
     “Let me show you,”  the man grinned widely and looked over the crowd.  “Music!”
     A drum beat started.  It was slow at first, and with each beat the crowd moved.  A piano joined in and other instruments followed.  Melissa looked around with wide eyes, but she could not see where the music was coming from.  She backed away from the crowd.
    The man reached out and took Melissa’s hand.  He was not forceful about it, but she could feel the strength in his grip.  An energy thrummed through him, beating in time with the drums.  She felt it vibrate down her arm, into her legs.  Her heart slowed, matching the beat.
     Just like that, she was in the dance.  The man had his arm around her waist.  They spun together, moving in harmony.
    “We have been waiting for you.”  The man said.
    “Wha... Why?”  Melissa said breathlessly.
    “Because you belong to us.  You always have.”
     A shiver ran down Melissa’s spine.  She wanted to pull away, but her body would not obey.  The music built, growing faster.  She matched the pace of it, and part of her enjoyed it.
    “These clothes will never do.  A servant must be presentable.”  The man said.
     They danced into the thick of the crowd.  Melissa felt hands on her, flowing with the music.  They tugged off her shirt, her pants, her underwear.  She danced naked and it felt right.  The hands held her, guiding her arms up.
     A beautiful girl in a red ball gown glided in close.  She held a black rubber dress up, and the crowd took it.  They pulled it down over Melissa’s head, never once interrupting the flow of the dance as they did.
     Another girl brought stockings.   Then came boots, gloves, and other fetishy things.  One by one the crowd took the items and dressed Melissa.
     “Please stop.  Just let me go, I won’t tell anyone what I have seen.”
     “No, that’s not right.”  The man said.
      The next girl brought something small, black and strappy.  The hands took it and cinched it around Melissa’s chin, covering her mouth.  There was a rubber bulb inside, and as the thing was strapped tight, the bulb pushed between her lips.  It filled her mouth, pushing her tongue down and making her cheeks bulge.  She moaned into the gag.
     "Better."
      The dance seemed endless.  Melissa felt full of energy, her legs tireless.  She could dance for days without stopping.  Her dance partner held her close, moving against her with intoxicating intimacy.  The worries faded, music was the only important thing.  She found herself throwing in little flourishes, rubbing up against him teasingly.
      Gradually the beat slowed.  Melissa’s partner lifted her chin and met her eyes.  He touched his lips to her forehead, and the music faded away entirely.  The thrumming energy flowing through her body quieted.  The dance came to an end.
      “You will come to us tomorrow night, and every night after.  You have no other choice.  Good day, little one.”  The man said.
      An eternity later Melissa opened her eyes.  She was alone again.  A soft light touched the edge of the horizon, the beginnings of dawn.  She could have sworn the dance had lasted only minutes, but the night was over.
      She was still wearing the dress.  Now that it was over she could take the time to look at herself.  She stared at her reflection in a nearby window.
      It was a french maid uniform made entirely of latex.  She touched her fingers to the gag that covered her mouth.  It was belted tight behind her neck, and the buckle had a small lock attached.
     Melissa glared at her reflection.  She tugged hard at the dress, trying to pull it up over her head.  If she had to choose between a humiliating dress and nudity, she would rather be nude.  The latex stuck to her skin, resisting her tugs.
     “Mmmph!”  Melissa grunted in frustration.
     The boots made Melissa clumsy.  They were taller than what she normally wore.  She tripped as she fought with the dress, and ended up on her back.  The little bit of white frill perched in her hair stayed stubbornly stuck, defying gravity.
     Melissa cursed into her gag as she fought with the uniform.  She could barely get her fingers under the latex.  It stuck to her skin stubbornly.
     A car door thumped closed.  Melissa looked up, and felt heat in her cheeks.  Mark looked down at her with his jaw hanging open.
     Melissa gave her dress one last futile tug.  It was stuck, unless the dancers decided to dress her differently.  She was bound to the dance now, a servant of the night.
     And the dancers owned the night.