Marjam Ch. 01

One foot splayed out to the side, I leaned over to one knee, then brought the splayed foot underneath me. As the music rose to a crescendo I slowly rose to my feet. I did a pirouette, and untied the ballerina skirt, allowing it to spin off my body and sail across the stage. I started swaying my breasts, until the nipples popped out and were clearly on display.

Oddly enough, we had never talked about how much I was supposed to take off. Amy and I had gone over other parts of the routine, but this part had been breezed over. I think she said, "Ok, so after you strip..." I decided that this was the height of the illusion. The transformation was complete. I was clad only in tiara, choker, corset, thong, stockings, and heels. My back tattoo was clearly visible, I had cleavage up to my chin, and my hot-pink nipples were proudly pointing out above the lacy ruffles of the corset. This is what I wanted to be for Max. I was still somewhat obscure, disguised, at the height of my preening glory. I felt untouchable, like a bride on her wedding night, offering herself to all as the most beautiful woman in the room, but promising herself to one man only.

I teasingly backed up to one of the poles of the four-poster bed and rubbed it between the cheeks of my ass. I pulled myself up off my feet and straddled the pole, lying back and spinning around until I leaned my head all the way back and my hair touched the floor. I did my practiced pole dancing routine, but did it slower and nastier, perhaps because I was wetter than I had ever been when doing it, and I was desperately grinding my aching clit against the pole.

The DJ started playing gangsta hip-hop. In full-on minx mode I crawled on all fours and opened the wardrobe underneath the prince. Inside was a single extra-large suit of formal prince clothes on a hanger. I reached into the pants and pulled out a big pink vibrating cock. As a fellated the toy, my the Prince in the monitor looked down at me in amazement and then smiled, and I could hear soft, guttural moans mixed in with the music.

After a minute or so, I reached behind and untied the thong, throwing it to the side. As I rubbed my face against the vibe, I threaded the needle and spread the lips of my cunt, thrusting my ass up towards Max. I turned around on all fours and backed up against the vibe. Grabbing it by the base, I turned up the speed and pressed the head against my clit. I began to rock back and forth, simulating doggystyle. I was quivering with lust, and moaning in earnest. Looking up at the mirror, I could see the illusion of the giant, handsome prince fucking a tiny, insatiable slut. I could feel the orgasm welling up inside me. I teased my clit until I fell on the floor in a gasping, screaming orgasm.

Then I pitched forward and crawled up onto the bed. I wanted to be as physically close to Max as I could. I felt as if I was about to lose my virginity to him, in this crazy and very public way. I lay on my back, at the edge of the bed, spread my legs, and fingered myself desperately. I let go of all inhibitions and let myself go, opening myself totally to Max, thrusting my pelvis to him wantonly. I cooed and moaned as I hurtled towards another climax. I had what could only be described as an out of body experience, so focused was I on my beautiful reflection writhing on the bed. Finally, I brought myself to a screaming orgasm. The audience erupted in applause. Even the bartenders were clapping and hooting.

I hopped off the bed, looked up gratefully towards Max, and bowed deeply. As I walked offstage, I felt elated. I went to the dressing room, sat in the stool and gazed at my reflection, transfixed. I couldn't believe that I had just come twice in front of dozens of strangers.

Moreover, in my flushed, relaxed state, I felt as if self-consciousness had fled. I removed my makeup, undid the corset, stripped completely, and showered. I emerged from the shower and stood in front of the full-length mirror. Max wouldn't recognize me if I showed him my ID. Even if he did recognize me, it wouldn't matter. I was transformed. It was as if the illusion had become so complete it was impenetrable even to me. Some moment onstage, I had stopped trying to hide behind my exhibitionist persona and became the persona. I had erased all traces of Amanda, the homely, embarrassed girl who the costume and makeup were supposed to obscure, and had reorganized my persona according my own unabashed desires. I felt that every naked part of me was sexy. The way I moved was sexy. It wasn't a narcissistic pride I was feeling, but more like a self-objectifying fascination with a discovery of something outside of myself.

Amy entered the dressing room, looking extremely pleased.

"Didn't I tell you? You were sensational!" She said. "That made me really hot and bothered. Made everyone else hot too. Especially room #2."

She tossed me a key card. My heart leapt.

"Get ready. I told them you'd be there in fifteen."

"Wait! What should I wear?" I asked. "What should I do?"

Amy smiled and gestured to the racks of clothes all around us. "Wear whatever makes your pussy wet. I mean it. What would make you feel sexy? How do you want to look?"

"I want to look... sexy. Slutty. Adorable. Any of the above!"

To be continued...