Today I lost my shyness and fear in dancing in front of the free; whereas before I had worried if I was to be found pleasing, if being a kajirus would make me look silly when performing, if my musical taste and writing skill weren't good enough, despite my dance instructor Mia Harcourt's (of SL's Gorean Pleasure Silk University) kind words of advice and encouragement. Tonight I danced with no comforts other than Mistress Valleri; I had no knowledge that Mia would be there, nor some of my other classmates. To my surprise, it was recieved extremely well; my choice of music was noted, the timing went well, and many commented on my surprising grace and beauty as a kajirus.
The following is the dance; imagine if you would a simple dance pit, surrounded by cushions. A Czehar player plucks gently at a few strings of his instrument, tuning it, and the percussionist strikes a few quick beats to make sure his skins are in order. Inside the pit lay a slave, half curled as if sleeping. ((If you want the actual audio as an aid, play "Can you dig it" by The Monkees. It's on youtube, promise.))
Jaem looks up from his huddled sleeping position, curled up so tightly that some sand clung to his chest where legs pressed into torso. Eyes scan the room and slowly but surely he comes to life to the sound of a czehar's quick, ornamented tune.
The boy, with a face filled with sorrow, gazes out past a roomful of people, expression never changing. He was all alone. His form wraps back up as he makes it all the way to his knees, hands tracing slender curves.
Jaem allows his glinting, silvery orbs to widen as the unseen drifts farther and farther off into the distance... He weakly picks himself from his knees and clasps cold hands overhead, then sliding them past each other.
With a flowing motion his arms pass along his frame, legs slowly following the new sound of a soft drumbeat, taking soft steps. He arches, showing his muscular and yet curved form...and yet to no avail.
Jaem cries out softly, and hides his face for a brief moment, body once again enclosing on itself as he realizes his desires will go unnoticed. His shy demeanor holds him back, paralyzed for a moment, frozen.... He then catches on to the prying eyes, hungry, around him as his truly wretched state shows itself.
The kajirus looks about at the eager Free and his eyes turn fiery, empassioned. The boy's frame writhes from head to heel; hands dart out, fingers bent like claws. He rakes at thin air in need as the drum beat grows steadily faster, as do the nimble fingers of the czehar player...
The boy's form starts to rapidly rise and fall, breath agitated by the ferocity and power of each swipe of his hands. He shudders as the crisp wind kisses his worked, glazed flesh, fangs bared in a primal display of desire. He turns rapidly, kicking up sand which floats like mist, quickly dissipated by his aggravated gouges at the air.
Jaem slowly but surely begins to tire out, each breath shallower, rougher, more difficult for his poor body to bring in. Still he tries his hardest to bring himself forth, the last of his energy expended. His lips part and a loud, lewd, practically dripping moan escapes his lips, maintaining the savageness of his movement, and yet displaying his knowledge of defeat.
He falls forward, body half-curled on his belly. The music stops, and the small, weak form lay in the sand, glistening body coated with a fine layer of tan crystals, almost pale against his sun-kissed skin. He squints weakly and brings himself for but a moment up to speak.
"I hope I am...pleasing..." are the only words he manages to articulate before he falls over in exhaustion. The soft shifting of the warm sand beneath him at each deep, winded breath is the only movement after that, vulnerable and helpless before his own desire.
If Mistress Valleri wishes to add to this, I will allow it; I don't know what else to do, actually, lol. I just thought I would share this, as my confidence has grown. :D
