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7.
Except for the odd moment, I had been able to forget last night and lose myself in the discipline of the studio throughout the day. The other dancers were marvelous and inspiring to work with. No one, however, had made me feel particularly welcome. After Dame Vera's open fondling of my bum, they had probably decided that I was her little snitch.
Other than that embarrassing display, she had been quite decent. She'd said we should start afresh. My missing hymen made that somewhat implausible, I thought. If only I hadn't allowed myself to become complicit in my own rape. In spite of how awful I knew she was, every time she touched me my willpower seemed to flow out between my thighs.
Lady Rachael was so astoundingly beautiful and friendly. Surely she couldn't be a deviant as well. All around me were only women. Nothing seemed amiss though. They were not at all mannish looking. Yet, I was sure Dame Vera had been hinting that this dark den was indeed full of lesbians.
I was glad when Lady Rachael joined us. I stood and tried to seat her between Dame Vera and myself as a barrier but she insisted I keep my seat. She had brought drinks as well. I thanked her but told her I didn't drink.
"I had them make something very light just for you, Lucy. I shall be hurt if you don't try it."
It was really quite delicious. Not at all boozy tasting and I was thirsty. The dinner had been delicious. At least in a restaurant she hadn't been able to make me sit on the floor. I was tired though and I wondered how late Dame Vera would insist that we stay out.
The room abruptly went dark as the inside of a pocket. The buzz of conversation faded until it was dead quiet. The silence lengthened and the blackness seemed to grow pregnant with expectancy. I was startled to suddenly feel a hand on each of my knees. Nervously, I started to my feet but the hands pushed me firmly back down. I was beginning to feel lightheaded and rather drifty.
Then a thin beam of light cut through the room and grew until the center of the small stage was bathed in a warm, cone of orange light. The music of a Tango number ascended to fill the air. Into this glow, from opposite sides stepped the figures of a woman and a sinuous man. The woman wore a short skirt and a sweater that hugged her breasts and the man a beret, a banded polo neck and pegged Teddy boy pants. On his feet pointed shiny boots began to tap out the beat of the Tango.
I recognized them as Apache dancers. The man strutted across to the woman and seized her by the hair. In perfect rhythm he slapped her twice, only to receive an unrepentant glare.
They drew apart and facing one another began to circle the stage. His boots tapped curses at her and the flashing toes of her shoes beat out a defiant reply. As they revolved around each other their body language spoke his anger and her insolence.
My mind seemed to have slipped into a dreamlike state as I followed the graceful flow of their growing violence. I felt the hands on my knees, slowly sliding up my thighs.
A stiletto appeared in the man's hand. The woman turned to flee but he caught her by the hair and dragged her center- stage. With her head drawn back, he ran the tip of his blade down her exposed throat.
Out of the dark around me, another pair of hands covered my breasts and began to toy with my nipples. Somewhere in he recesses of my mind a tiny, muted voice was saying that this shouldn't be happening but my body wasn't listening.
The blade sliced open the woman's sweater and it was dragged from her body. Her bra parted under the sharp steel and her bared breasts heaved as she struggled in slow, rhythmic motion. The knife prowled her body until she was nude, save for shoes and a pair of dark stockings held by a black garter belt framing her damp pelt. She was flung to the floor where she lay sprawled and panting with her head hung low.
I was by now leaning back into the invisible arms around me. My sensitive nipples were so thrilled by the phantom fingers, that I scarcely noticed when my panties slid down my legs.
Onstage, the boyfriend swaggered to stand between the woman's open legs. With a taunting gesture, he unzipped to display a ridiculously large member. He pulled off his beret and sailed it out into the dark room. A mass of shimmering golden hair cascaded down revealing the brutal boyfriend's true sex. As she fell upon her woman, the stage once more went black. Through the dark, in sync with the music came the passionate sounds of the couple's lovemaking.
Lips attacked me from every direction. Each nipple was sucked into hot wet bliss. A tongue invaded and plundered my mouth. A silken head parted my thighs and began lapping at my bucking pussy.
As if from far away, I heard a cry of completion on the stage and sent my own scream out into the black silence of the room. The audience began to cheer and applaud and the lips left me.
The lights came up and all around me women were standing and cheering. I could only sit as I was, stunned. Everyone around me was fully clothed and intent on applauding as the dancers took their bows. Were I not sitting with my bare bottom in a puddle of my own juices, I might have thought it had all been a dream. I heard Dame Vera's voice above me and looked to find her and Lady Rachael gazing fondly down at me.
"Oh my, Rachael! The poor girl looks completely done in. Come along, Lucinda; let's get you home to beddy byes then."
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