lyrique - Property of Saga

[lyrique [Property of Saga]]

- On the sprawling and festive grounds of the Carnival -

: says to ALL:.... From behind the curtain, I could hear the sound of the men, who'd gathered to watch the slave dancing. I was unsure if there would be Mistresses present or not, but I could feel like a thundering herd of bosks the rapid pulsing of my heart. As I attached to my wrists and ankles several dangling silver bracelets, the sound of the musicians warming up their instruments mixed with the jingling of shimmering metal disks attached by chain to the bracelets. The long lengths of it, I wrapped around and around my torso, gasping as it hangs quiet low upon my hips, drawing the eye naturally to the slender tapering of my waist. From each ankle, these same chains lifted to attach to the dangling belt of shimmering metal disks and coins. Each hint of movement sent these barbaric slave bells to sing out the true nature of my being -- utterly slave, utterly owned. Tonight, I would dance for him and for him alone. Yes, there would be others to see, but my dance, my longing would be his alone. I would dance as a virgin tonight, the true virgin that I was still, yet aching to fully know pleasure in serving him not only in heart, soul and spirit, but in body as well. The curtain parted a bit, another young slave whispering heatedly, 'It's time, lyrique! Dance well for Him!' And I reach out my hand to her to squeeze it for comfort. The crowd hushed when I first step out from behind the curtain. The luminous light of the moons overhead shimmers against the chestnut tresses which have been lightly curled, styled for this very occasion. I moisten ruby tinged lips as the barbaric sound of the slave bells sings out with the very movements that carry me to the center of the stage area. Posing in preparation, left leg bent at the knee, my right foot pointed across the line of my body and arms lifted heavenward above my body, wrists touching briefly.


- On the sprawling and festive grounds of the Carnival -

: says to ALL:.... As the music began to play out, wild and exotic with the high pitch of a flute and the rhythmic drumming and strumming of the czehar, I could feel my belly burn to be a pleasurable sight to those gathered here. I knew not where my beloved Master was in the crowd, but his knowing eyes could be any of these men, and to please him, I must please them all. And immediately I was the fearful, trembling virgin. Those sensuous rhythms, drawing out my first steps, circling my foot out to the side, causing those shimmering wild coins and bells to dance against my otherwise naked flesh, quick chain like steps pulling my lithe, dancer’s figure into several tiny twirls ebony tresses flying out wildly, as if trying to escape the inevitable draw of my Master. Evading out of his grasp, the delightful, playful turns carrying me across the stage, further from his gripe. The numerous turns bring me closer to one half of the stage and abruptly I stop, the shimmering metal disks not ceasing however as I draw my legs together achingly slow, timed with the rhythm of the music, flexing them tightly, snapping my palms up heavenward, arms outstretched baiting him to me, the sculpted slave flesh beautifully worshipping not him, but the beauty of the night, the beauty of the skies above. Supple hips gyrating side to side in rapid, snapping motions, drawing the observer in to the tiny motions, the rippling of a slave's belly, the singing metal moving wildly as untried hips dance side to side. It was as if in these movements, first trying to escape and then writhing little hips that I tried to draw my Master in, a young inexperienced slave trying only to please on the surface level.


- On the sprawling and festive grounds of the Carnival -

: says to ALL:.... A screeching sound on the czehar, mimicking a harsh word from a Master angered at the slave for even contemplating escape, breaks the gyration of shapely hips, fitted to a Master, aching to be taken and explored. And then as if suddenly aware of the grave truth of my slavery, a shocked expression passes breath-taking features of the lovely girl. Expressive ebony gaze widening with horror. With timidity and uncertainty as if only now fully aware of them, the movements take me backwards, almost stumbling, seeking fingers exploring the barbaric beads in dismay. Trembling hands explored fully, dancing over supple, sunkissed naked flesh as if shielding generous, feminine curves from the many pairs of eyes as if only now just discovering my nakedness. I danced the fear of Eve after first tasting fruit so sweetly forbidden and realizing the truth of her nakedness. Leaping suddenly into the air, a graceful turn, sends those same barbaric metallic disks singing in exotic, intoxicating melody, the many graceful leaping turns like an Earthen gazelle dancing across the Serengeti come to a crashing halt as the drummer smacks his hand firmly against the skin of his drum twice and then three times. Horror passes those beautiful features as I look left, then right as if the slave whip attacks from all sides and sends me crashing to my side, falling as if at the feet of my very own Master, supple curves trembling in fear at His feet, trying to yield to this overwhelming need within me, reconciled to the reality of my slavery.


- On the sprawling and festive grounds of the Carnival -

: says to ALL:.... Gasping, breathless, so alive in the reality of my sexuality, the surprising burning need beginning in the pit of my stomach, radiating out, burning in my thighs as I pushed my hands against the earth and pushed then to my knees. I felt the low drumming rhythm mimic the rapid beat of my heart wildly beating in my chest. I danced on my knees, hips moving in an ancient rhythm as if by their own volition, without my own accord, a rhythm passed down an ancient line of women, intuitively knowing how to please men. Trembling hands lifted up as if toward the Master towering over her fragile beauty, drawing out the natural femininity. The heaving of her breasts sending the metal disks to sing out their melody. Tight ass writhing as if dancing over a man's lap, teasing and tempting him, but never controlling, the teasing bringing only more pleasure. Shoulders shimmying, full breasts aching to be explored blossoming like a rosebud at the tip, catching against the cool metal, warmed by hot slave flesh. Drawing then to my feet and sashaying to one corner of the stage, dancing over to a group of men gathering closer to the stage, drawn like a moth to the flame to their overwhelming masculinity. I saw there a pair of eyes I recognized and reaching my hands achingly out to him, then twisting round in a chain like turn once more to the center of the stage as if pulled back into abject slavery.


- On the sprawling and festive grounds of the Carnival -

: says to ALL:.... The musicians began to play faster, drawing the dance to a climaxing conclusion. Head tossed back, luminous tresses teasing along the supple lines of my back, reckless in abandonment to my submission, to His collar, and to the will of my Master. Slender arms, sculpted beautifully, danced in snake like movements above my head, causing plump breasts to jiggle and tease the men. A wild stomp of my foot causes the flash of metal to play along supple slave flesh, enhancing the slender beauty of a tiny waist and pleasurably plump hips. I danced as if caught up in the ravishing of my Master, thrashing wildly, beautifully, utterly at the mercy of men. I was oblivious to the sights, sounds and smells around me. I was His and His alone, begging to be used, aching to be had, to know how to please him and with the crescendo crashing closure of the music I fall to my knees, to my belly, stretched out before him. Utter submission, total acceptance of His fate for her. Laying there as if truly at his feet, she felt the truest ache of a slave now fully blossomed in her and the tears threaten to spill out upon her cheeks. And there was silence as the dance ended, woman, slave, now truly kajira.


- On the sprawling and festive grounds of the Carnival -

: says to ALL:.... Okay, so the applauding was likely a good sign. I could scaresly breath and I pressed my hands against the ground and pushed to my feet. Gods how my whole body ached and burned like I'd not experienced before and the emotions just seemed so overwhelming. I did a half curtsey sort of thing, murmuring "Thank you ... Thank you" and dashed back behind the curtain again.

[lyrique [Property of Saga]]

I have the non 'cleaned up' version w/ timestamps and such if that is also needed.

Thanks!