Purple silk. The woman wore purple silk like skin and wielded it like a
weapon. Her hips swayed to a beat that entranced any who allowed themselves to be caught up in the movement. With arms held above her head, fluidly winding
and twisting while occasionally falling to caress some body part, she danced.
Thin strings of jewelry shrouded the woman like a spider's web, silver threads
catching the avid watcher's eye. Here and there the tingling of a bell
announced the twitch of a hip, the flick of a wrist, or the gentle lifting and
dipping of a delicate ankle. She was exquisite.
The man before her, spellbound by the vision of perfectly proportioned
beauty, was inclined to agree. His eyes held the beginnings of a lusty haze as
he stared, voraciously devouring the visual feast laid out before him. His
breathing was still slow and easy, though any sudden movement by the gyrating
female would inspire a momentary hitch in his respiration. His expression was a
blend of wolf-like hunger and devoted appreciation. Yes, he knew her. Quite
well, in fact. Never in his wildest dreams would he have thought she could or
would do what he was witnessing, but he certainly wasn't complaining about the change
of heart. The woman bent backward, slowly tipping her head back to the ground
while simultaneously revealing a beautiful strip of toned, caramel brown skin.
If that wasn't enough to break his train of thought, the wink of amethyst in
her belly button was. He shifted, just slightly, in his seat and continued to
watch.
His eyes were not the only one to appraise the dancing woman. Another's
eyes followed the trail of thin, gauzy fabric that fluttered in the air,
following the wrist to which it was attached. With every gesture, the cloth
swayed and dipped, graceful and mesmerizing in its own right. It made the girl
feel even more sick. In another room, behind a thick, one sided mirror, the
dancer's less perfect doppelganger withered in the shadows. That's right. The
two women were one and the same, and yet completely different.
One danced and undulated with the practiced ease of an athlete, the
other was slow and lumpy, confined to the thick chains embedded in the wall
behind her. One commanded attention with every breath she took, the other was
invisible to even the most astute observer, not that anyone wanted to look at
her anyway. In vain, she had spent the last hour trying to push those thoughts
from her mind, but every playful giggle and flirty touch the two people before
her exchanged brought an acidic bile to the top of her throat and burned in the
pit of her stomach.
He had been her friend. More than that, for he had long since gone
above and beyond the call of duty for any mere friend. They had shared
everything, or as close as two people could come to it, so when she awoke to
see the imposter clinging to his arm it nearly broke her. Sure, confusion had
come first. Why was she in this room, locked to a wall with chains so thick she
had no hope of escape? Who was that woman? Why were they so close? It hadn't
taken more than a minute to realize they were on a date, and not much longer
than that to see that her friend was enjoying himself. She didn't mind that,
but something was still wrong. It wasn't until she caught a snippet of the
conversation that she realized who her friend believed the woman to be. From
there, her insecurities had done their work thoroughly. Every doubt, every
vice, every issue with self image she had ever had was pulled to the surface
when faced with the harsh reality of the woman her friend deserved. A woman she
could never be.
Turning her head to the side, she clenched her eyes shut, trying to
ignore the scene before her. The woman had been taking small, but deliberate
steps forward, inching closer and closer to her prey. The smaller the distance,
the smoother and more sensuous her movement became. Her dance spoke for itself,
and it spoke thunderously.
The man's eyes flickered, checking to see if he was reading the signals
correctly. She seemed so completely different, so unhindered and completely out
of character. Again, to say he detested the changes would be a straight lie,
but sharp and completely unforeseen transformation did raise a few alarms.
Gentle hands caressing his face, running through his hair, then sliding up and
down the woman's side silenced the alarms promptly. His thoughts shattered and
scattered throughout his brain and, with her so close now, he did not care
enough to collect them.
That seething bile bubbled in her stomach again. A whole slew of
feelings she knew far too well assaulted her on far greater levels. Some part
was jealousy, and she knew it. She could never be so bold or so beautiful.
She'd never have the courage, or the assets to pull off such a feat. This
feeling...was quite like being kicked in the stomach, including the subsequent
gasping for air and tearing in the eyes. A small voice, growing steadily louder
whispered everything she'd ever hated about herself into her ear. Again and
again, she was measured, the slim beauty as her ruler, and endlessly, she was
found wanting.
Her breath quickened with the weight of her failures just as the
proximity of the warm, voluptuous body quickened his. They were only inches
apart, her hand had stilled at the back of his neck and her gyrating had slowed
to a barely imperceptible movement centimeters away from his body. The girl in
the room was only inches from unconsciousness. Her breaths were too short, too
shallow, too useless to keep her awake.
Soft, thick, moist lips make contact with the man's just as the world
went dark and the girl in chains hit the floor.
