grazing his leg as she reaches, begging use, dipping low, she runs a tongue over his boot then rolls away, hips rolling and writing never forgetting the rhythm that feeds her slave sex with each tantalizing movement.
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| Dance of the virgin | ||||||||
| by: kys | ||||||||
| Beneath the light of the torches,as the shadows of flame dance, so too does the image of a girl, her frame stched out in smokey gray wisps upon the stone as she moves out to face the crowd. From head to toe she shimmers, body well oiled, the faint scent of talenders wafting as she moves. The clink of heavy, crude chain is heard, wrapped around her slender waist, a strip of diaphanous white silk pulled between her legs and tied to the chain around her taut slave belly simulating a belt. A strip, two layers thick of ethereal white silk, beating against her skin like the pulses of angel's wings, winds teasingly around her upper body just barely onscuring the ripe breasts beneath. Sweet waves of copper flow over her shoulders and dance in silken waves along her form as the music begins, sweet and happy in tone. . . . . her head held high in proud display of Master's collar. A small strip of white silk winding around it with only a hint of the sweet sensuality that smolders beneath and needs to be awakened. Her face, ever exquisite is softly painted with hues of blue and green about the eyes, her lips painted a bright, succulent ruby red. She laughs and twirls, happy and graceful, smiling sweetly, teasing with a wink or a smile. Her scent, her silken skin or perhaps a tantalizing near glimpse of her sweetly rounded ass, pausing before one Master in a graceful tower, arms extended upwards as if serving. Hopping to her feet again, she pirouettes, skillfully moving with the quickness of a tubuck running wild on the plains, light and elegant in motion as she leaps and frolics, until the music begins to change in tone, slowing its paces. . . a moment of reckoning soon to arrive, the realization she stands before a crowd of men. Her cheeks once rosy with innocent laughter now flushing a bright red as she gingerly peers out at the men before her, hiding with a cou turn of her sinful form yet to manifest itself as such. Her back to her audience, her hands seem to roll down her belly, fingers curling around the edge of white fabric, unfurling a big and drawing it upward as she turns slowly, pulling it up as a screen to hide her face. To the rhythm, slowly growing more sultry in the heat of a summer's eve, she lowers it just a whisper, hazel eyes over in wide-closed curiosity, trying to catch a peak of the unknown. Her body tenses noticeably as the silk is left to fall back upon her form, painted lips though in a smile, tremble in fear of that which she has yet to experience and with a twirl a corner of that silk is caught upon by her Master, his hand pushing against her taut belly, sending her spinning, the silk left behind, succulent breasts, heaving in breathless and fearful anticipation left bared for all to see. As she dashes about only the clinking chain and silk weaving between her silken thighs are left to guard her purity as she takes several steps forward, jerking as if trying to run, then halted with an erant sway of the hips. An anxious glance caste over her shoulder and she is in a remote corner, crouched low, hands pressed to her ample hips, caressing the tender flesh, desperately guarding that which remains untouched. Her fingers nervously dance over the chain, the protective barrier, caressing until she slowly rises, commanded forward, a click heard as the chain is released, falling as the strides of long, supple legs carry her forward, the chain falling noisly to the ground and stepped over as it is destined now to be left behind. A final look of desperation, pleading eyes imploring but not acknowledged as her form spills to the floor with a soft cry. Vunerable and revealed, eyes dowcast as her body weaves forward like an ost, dragging, stopping, dragging, stopping, almost resistant but the slightest spark of desire starting to burn, edging her to the unknown. Suddenly as the music flares, she is thrown to her back, arms flung back in haste, crossed at the wrists as though shackled, a lithe form pressed to the cold ground, thighs parted wide, all exposed and bounc with no escape. Blanketed by her own riotous locks of fire, a glimmering sheen of sweat and madness coating creamy skin, nipples pucker, fists clench, toes curl, head rolls as her hips begin to writhe, held in steadfast precision by the one to claim her treasure. Deeply felt moans of pleasure and pain spill from lips so lush that beg to be raped with a Master's kiss to be silenced. Her hips lift from the sheer force of being impailed by Master's manhood for the first time, succulent breasts swaying with each pulse of the music and with each jagged breath. Hot tears spill down painted cheeks, warm essence spills from Master's treasure as cources of shudders ripple through her delectable form over and over again as her back arches sharply, lifting her form higher and higher until the shudders stop. The drumbeats begin as she rises, no longer bound by the shackles of steel nor the shackles of desire, her hips flare as she moves with no hesitation to the once forbidden position of nadu. Her hand snatching the remaining silk of white from her hips as it is drawn to her lips with a kiss of passion, a stain of red left on its pristine surface as it is cast aside forever. rising, she passes from Master to Master, her head held higher than ever, no longer ashamed of what she is, eyes no longer holding the gleam of innocense but the flames of unbridled passion smouldering from deep within her belly. She approaches Master. . . sliding down before Him in a sinful nadu, her aching treasure grazing his leg as she reaches, begging use, dipping low, she runs a tongue over his boot then rolls away, hips rolling and writing never forgetting the rhythm that feeds her slave sex with each tantalizing movement. |
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| Kys dance continued. . . . . . | ||||||||