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[ftm] 15.2 - twisted cinderella
May. 11th, 2009 09:17 pmAnne loved working Saturday afternoons at The Body Shop because the customers just didn’t come in, and for the few who did show up she had a pretty wide berth to do whatever she felt like.
Or so it was until Saturday afternoons became one of their busiest periods, starting just a couple of weeks after she got hired.
This week was no different than any other as the spotlight hit her, irised onto her face as the music began, a pop ballad that was nothing like the usual bump and grind that accompanied her routines. Animal eyes stared out at the crowd as she moved with the music, but the woman onstage was purely human as the irised spotlight followed her, moving over her body as she slowly stripped off her clothing piece by piece.
The lights never rose. The spotlight lingered over her hands as her gloves peeled away from her arms, as her skirt slid off her hips and to the floor. It followed her fingers as she unlaced her corset and slipped it off her body. She swayed, she gyrated, and moved away from the crowd, backing down the stage runway with every step until she made her exit offstage.
The lights lever came up. All she showed the audience was pieces of the picture, glimpses of bare breast and skin unveiling, looks and glimmers of more than just sex. On these lazy Saturday afternoons where she was free to play, to wander, she told stories and created fantasies the customers came in droves to lose themselves in.
Left to her own devices, she told erotic fairy tales crafted from bare flesh and sensuality, and promised more than pleasure: she promised happily ever after.
She promised love…and for that, her customers would pay any price to take in the beautiful lie obscured by the darkness behind her irised spotlight.
Muse: Anne Forsythe
Fandom: Original Character
Words: 313
Or so it was until Saturday afternoons became one of their busiest periods, starting just a couple of weeks after she got hired.
This week was no different than any other as the spotlight hit her, irised onto her face as the music began, a pop ballad that was nothing like the usual bump and grind that accompanied her routines. Animal eyes stared out at the crowd as she moved with the music, but the woman onstage was purely human as the irised spotlight followed her, moving over her body as she slowly stripped off her clothing piece by piece.
The lights never rose. The spotlight lingered over her hands as her gloves peeled away from her arms, as her skirt slid off her hips and to the floor. It followed her fingers as she unlaced her corset and slipped it off her body. She swayed, she gyrated, and moved away from the crowd, backing down the stage runway with every step until she made her exit offstage.
The lights lever came up. All she showed the audience was pieces of the picture, glimpses of bare breast and skin unveiling, looks and glimmers of more than just sex. On these lazy Saturday afternoons where she was free to play, to wander, she told stories and created fantasies the customers came in droves to lose themselves in.
Left to her own devices, she told erotic fairy tales crafted from bare flesh and sensuality, and promised more than pleasure: she promised happily ever after.
She promised love…and for that, her customers would pay any price to take in the beautiful lie obscured by the darkness behind her irised spotlight.
Muse: Anne Forsythe
Fandom: Original Character
Words: 313
