just a short, dark vignette…leaving a lot to your own sordid imaginings…
Nine years with the SoCal Ballet and this is what came of it.
Her hips rolled with the seductive music. It wasn’t her intent to seduce …that was unnecessary, given the hungry looks of the men lounging on the pillow covered floor. Some held their cocks, stroking slowly, all attempt at subtlety abandoned. The music was hypnotic, her body cajoled.
The veils stirred slowly, offering peeks of ripe, virgin flesh. She, who had prided herself on being a virgin, always too afraid to give her body to anyone, lest the fire of her dance be subdued by the yearnings of her cunt. She, curvy despite the years and rigors of giving herself one hundred percent to her craft. She, dancing now as she had never danced before, her heart racing not with her exertions, but with fear. She, so proud when Kalib Barb Halil had asked to take her to dinner, the richest man in the world, so it was rumored. And she, waking groggily to the hum of an airplane, hands and feet bound, head cloaked, struggles useless.
It had been rumored, she remembered then, that Kalib took possession of whatever took his fancy. To her detriment, she realized that some rumors were not gossip, but fact.
Kalib’s words, growled into her ear before he had shoved her into this chamber, rang in her head.
“You will dance. As long as you dance, you are safe-no man would dare touch you then. But when you stop, when the fatigue burns in your muscles, your legs and arms shake with the effort of continuing, then you will stop…and you will be the virgin dancer no longer.”
She’d heard the hunger in his voice, seen it as his eyes traveled across her body as she moved ceaselessly around the center of the circle of pillows draped with men who wore looks as hungry as wolves.