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"Is your dance ready?" Spoke the Master
She blinks and then shakes out of it "Erm ready, ummm, a girl wouldn't quite put it in those words."
"What words would you put it in girl?"
"It's erm, still in the bubble stages?"
"Let's see what you have girl."
The hopeful smile went pale and she inclined her head swallowing.
"Yes Master. A girl has her outfit picked."
The quickly rolls to her feet, muscles dancing as she scurries off to the dancer's box near the pit to make her selections and slip into them, that uh oh pale look brushing her light skin.
Her Master looks on approvingly as she begins pulling out garments and brushing them up against her. She steps out into the lights of the pit from the shadow by the box, the piggy tails bound up in one veil that curled them into a spilling up do, baring the throat and shoulders that same veil then drawn from behind her ear across her face to tuck behind her ear and into the collar around her throat, its effect hiding her features but for the vivid and dark hazel orbs. the second veil weaved from her right wrist secured there by a simple string of bells, before weaving up over the back of the shoulder, under the breast and to the collar, lifting it and supporting it within the thin gauze, the third echoing the second, around her opposite wrist. a fourth finds her hips and naval, wrapped thrice, it was notably white and tucked with a string of loose bells draped stylishly over them. Both legs similarly outfitted with a string of bells upon the ankle.
The gauze would draw from each ankle, curled around and around the limb likened to a candy cane, flexing with each movement of her legs, drawing color and restraining movement as it found a place below the naval wrap. the seventh gauze, was the scarlet veil, the most notable, missing, unable to be seen so lightly, the girl's breathing was rapid, her bara taunt as she approached the center of the pit, the crunch of sand underfoot, the pulse of her heart in her ears, and the sound of the bells teasing her senses as it called attention to even the slightest of movements. Once in the center she turned to face Him, drawing arms up over head, lifting the chin to a haughty degree and turned her right hip slightly toward him, the wrists finding each other high over head, palms back to back, as the fore leg extends to point the toe, giving Him the appeal of the light as it hit those curves, exposed and not, letting the eyes of the Male linger, hazel orbs seeking out His approval. He grins at the girl noting the fluidity of her motions and the lack of blushing in them. He especially appreciates the piggy tails wound in the veils.
"Does Master approve of a girl's costume?"
"Yes I do. You put a lot of thought into that."
A blush slipped over the cheeks as the girls arms lowered.
"A girl put a lot of thought to where the seventh scarf went."
As he grinned at that statement the girl bit her lip, glancing at Him from under the lashes before looking back down at the sand, slipping out of that taunting profile.
"May a girl remove the silks and serve You Master?"
"You don't want to try and go farther?"
"Is it Master's wish that, she attempt?"
"Yes it is my wish that you at least try."
She takes a breath, resuming the position quickly. Then taking a breath and drawing back into that zone pepper had spoken of a happy place. For her it was the center of a storm... she listened for the sound of the thunder, the lightning breaking and then took a deep breath.
The girl began with the solo pulse set of her fore leg, the heel striking heavily upon the sand, the crash of the bells upon her ankles setting a tempo, that beat lasting eight solo beats in time to the heart of the girl, then a slight snap of the hips drawing the rattle of the higher sounding bells at her naval over that self made skirt of virginal white gauze, she kept this movement until her entire body followed it, the hands kept overhead, starting her story with the motion, her steps began, she kept them high, jerky and ill graced, keeping the bells sounding with an almost angry degree, the haughty incline of her chin and the stiffness in her shoulders and spine belying her utter disdain, cold, unfeeling and the hazel orbs so vibrant spoke their utter contemptible jealousy, spearing him as she made her round of the pit finding her way back to that initial spot in the center.
Her attention away from him, upon space, hips and feet still making their snapping rings, ill harmony. she began to brush at her cheeks, errant locks, admiring herself, tilting her head some of that hardened edge leaving her as the finger slides from the tendrils of escaping golden hair to her cheek. she brushed the multicolored gauze that wound its way around the collar, hiding it, as if amused then, then her face contored again,a stiffened leg kicking a high wall of sand into the air, her body spinning with furious jerks within it, letting it catch around her, the fury of a storm in her eyes, the gleam mutinous, she drew up to the edge of the pit, the angry pulse in her belly, the clenching fingers, the bells screaming their discontent with each jerked movement as the skin began to gleam with the heat within the blood, the sand was kicked up in an arc near You, but did not hit You as she stopped with a fury of panting, the bells going silent.
She drew herself up again, calmly that flare of disdain writ clearly hands lifting to that previously dainty position and that hip snapping its dismissal with the soft jingling cry as she made her steps back toward the pits center, to that invisible mirror, the bells ringing softly as she just rolled her hips softly to the right and left to keep them singing.
Her fingers drawing to her face, tracing out the eyes, admiring, then sliding down the cheek only to snag upon the silk. a stomp, making the bells cry and the sand stir, fingers snag the silk and bunch it within the fist, and with the bend of her body, the muscles rippling she rolled with the movement of the tug, head rolling as the thrust of defiance turned into a quick lack of veil, the golden piggy tail spilling free to either side, revealing the fine cheeks, the pouted lips and the smooth skin, her face looked delighted, fingers perusing the skin, touching it, with a smile, the bells rolling softly contented with the slight hip movements but again she froze, that disdain entering as she lifts her chin high, gaze turning to meet You, glaring. hands finding her sides but snapping the wrists to make the bells move, she began that prowling back toward you, muscles taunt under the teasing delicacy of the silks, stepping purely out of the pit and to You, stepping before and stomping again, striking that high set of chin, looking down at You from under her lashes.
That cold anger mixed with a murky warmth, that tingling tight boil within the belly. She scowls and snaps to her right, twisting and twirling in circles around his chair, the silk around her right breast falling loose exposing it though by unknown hands, until it is but a loose spray of blue color held in the fist it is dropped on his lap, as she drops it in his lap, again that disdainful turn, that snap of hip, leaving him, the skin was warm moist and slick with the sweat of the dance, she gleamed in the light, the piggy tails swaying with the exaggerated hip to hip step, eight paces were made and she rounded, brow arched He dare's watch?
The lips set in a snarl as that blood boiled, she danced back, whirls angry tight whirls that had her brushing his arm upon the chair, has her feet stepping within the movement of his feet and then out again, weaving forward with that look of lust writ clearly upon her features and then away with that utter contempt. the other breast revealed with the silk discarded at his feet.