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Author Topic: For Smigca  (Read 3305 times)

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Offline joyfully

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For Smigca
« on: September 29, 2015, 07:00:29 PM »

The drunken chorus conversations of the theater patrons become a soft layer of noise behind the thick curtains. The performers stretch out, working the jitters and tension from their muscles. A few peek through the curtain, knowing that once it rises and the spotlights stream super heated blindness on to the stage it will be impossible to see the faces of those fortunate enough to rate a ticket for this event.

Back stage in the star's dressing room, Karen looked into the mirror one last time to check her hair and makeup. Her vibrant red hair shone, her eyes green with the color of life that drew any who gazed upon her from the fire of her hair. A smile formed at her mouth as she felt the air leave her nostrils in the short burst of a suppressed laugh. She was too much woman for any one man to handle, that's why she knew she had to giver herself away in a spectacle that would capture the lusts and imaginations of hundreds. She competed for the lead dancer at the Ballet Populaire, The world's greatest venue for her kind of ballet. Even though there were openings after each show, the audition rooms were always full.

Many of the women who auditioned along side her had long since found their end in cheap night clubs, passing away in bars wallpapered with beer, sharing the gallows stage with a strip pole. Others volunteered for the food service industry in order to provide for the after performance banquets. Only two were chosen for the part. The understudy in this case was a
petite Asian girl who would announce the beginning of the show in the regular fashion.

Karen moved from the mirror, knowing that she would never be as perfect as she was tonight, and watched the live feed. Ms. Chan walked down the side of the curtain in her onyx Cheongsam with a hand cuff ensemble and announced that the show would begin shortly. The noose lowered itself on cue and she placed it around her neck, her brown hair tied up to keep it from snagging in the rope. She tightened it behind her right ear and clicked the hand cuffs around her back and counted to five.

Slowly the rope raised her to her bare toes, the nails painted red for the occasion. She smiled at the audience who had quickly returned to their seats and then began her own dance. Karen gasped, watching the shiny fabric of the dress ripple as her legs began a well rehearsed ballet. She stared intently at her face, an expression of concentration coupled with the joy only a performer can fully understand. She tarried for a moment more, unable to completely take her eyes away from her partner, aching to be out there with her.

Ms. Chan began her final choreography, her lungs burning for air, her strength failing as she exerted her body. Like all of her predecessors, her act lasted until the desperation in her lungs seized control of her taught body and moved as if an amateur puppet master was plucking randomly at her strings. Sweat poured from every orifice, compounded by the spot lights that showed every detail of her slender body. Her nipples were erect through the fabric and her legs dripped with the juices of passion. She was struggling gently now, her face puffy and flushed. The noose locked completely around her throat and with one last burst of strength she performed a pirouette before her legs slipped downwards, never to rise again.

Karen heard the thunderous applause and slipped the soft satin robe from her
shoulders, the smooth fabric teasing her skin as it quickly piled around her ankles. Just as the understudy was hanged clothed, the star performer would dance as free as the day she the day she was born. She could feel the arousal tearing through her, knowing that in seconds she would be sharing all that she had to the world

The running crew chief brought her only piece of wardrobe to her and lowered it with great care around her head. He checked the slack in the line and reported that all was ready to the stage manager. The audience was finally beginning to settle down, the minutes of clapping slowing to a chatter of those who sought attention from within the ranks of the attendees. The curtain began to open and after five seconds Karen began.

Leaping onto the stage, her breasts thrust forwards, her face glittering with her smile, Karen moved towards her first position at the center, the rope trailing behind her. She moved the thick coils from her shoulder and squeezed them with her breasts, her hands running down the sides of her body to the glistening patch of hair and thrust inwards. She arched her body forwards and backwards, allowing the audience to drink in every wonderful part of her as the rope began to lift upwards, the slack reaching into the walkways above the stage.

She felt the rope slide upwards from her shoulder, the coils brushing her left nipple with a jolt of pleasure as it cinched around her neck and pulled her off the floor. She fought the urge to reach for the noose, the worst possible form of unprofessional behavior, and started her first dance. She twisted her hips from side to side as if belly dancing and used her arms to slither up and down her form as the noose choked her. She alternated each arm as it came down to rest by her pussy and stroked her self in the rhythm of the music she practiced to, in this case a seductive and tasteful jazz piece.

The rope lifted her up from the stage until she was hanging eight feet from the floor. Stagehands moved the wooden platform into place around her, the interlocking platform creating the well known gallows for which her dance was named. The rope lowered her onto the trap door, sequined cuffs waiting for her on the railing. She turned her back to the audience and slowly cuffed each hand, lifting each in leg in a kick as she continued.

She turned towards the audience, her body shining with sweat as she began her splits and leg work, counting down in her head to the drop time. She needed to be precise lest she fall out of her choreography. She rose to her toes and felt a rush of air coupled by an immediate stop as she fell through into space, the gallows trap waving behind her. She saw stars in her eyes and felt the thunderous applause of the audience as they rose to their feet. She tried to smile in gratitude and then went about her performance as the rope lowered her to a teasing distance from the ground.

The troupe leapt in from both sides of the stage and began their ballet, twirling around the struggling form in the center, their hands running over her breasts and down her chest and all over. Each member of the cast jumped up to kiss their star and landed on the stage as if dead.

The body pile around her whispered congratulations and encouragement to hold on, to give her best show. Karen cried now, the perfect moment was here. Among her friends, among her lovers, she was free to express her true desires, free from the laws of society, free from all the stresses of life. She stroked herself from behind, barely able to finger herself. She rubbed her thighs together as her juices poured out. The noose held its terrible grip on her and reminded her that she had only a few moments to complete her dance. She raised her legs slowly, one at a time, bending at the knee as they wrapped around each other, rippling waves of pleasure through her body as she struggled to stay conscious. She felt it, the promise of the ultimate pleasure and the freedom from pain it would bring. She knew she had made the right decision. With one last burst of energy Karen felt the world crash in around her as she came like never before, and never again.

The audience stared in awe as the fiery redhead exploded in a spasm of kicks that stopped as her body stiffened one last time and then released. Her toes swinging mere inches from the hard dance surface, her head pushed to the side, her eyes open and lifeless. The now naked body of Ms. Chan was lowered next to Karen's and the audience cheered. The applause died down as the patrons left the theater, making sure to reserve copies of the performance on film.

A photographer came in as the last patrons left the theater and called for the cast picture. They grouped around their two stars, and shared the same sense of satisfaction that was evident on the women's faces.



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