Dancing With MyselfbyJukeboxEMCSA©
Mary scarcely recognized the woman in the mirror.
It wasn't the first time she'd felt that way over the past year; but this time, it was more than just the weight loss that made her stare at her own reflection with a bit of confusion. The woman in the mirror looked confident, sensual and attractive. Powerful, even. To a perennial wallflower like Mary, it was as if she'd accidentally walked in front of a doorway instead of a full-length mirror.
The costume did most of the work, really. The way the gauzy cloth wrapped around her, so thin in places that it was practically transparent, while in others layered and wound around her body until it obscured...Mary stared intently at her own crotch, trying to make absolutely sure that it did obscure what it was supposed to. She tried to hide a smile, knowing that the men in the audience would be doing exactly the same thing, but with entirely different motives.
That was if she danced at all tomorrow night. Mary still wasn't sure if she was going through with it. Her friends insisted that this would be the perfect chance to show off her newly-svelte body and all the dancing that had firmed up her muscles; but deep down, Mary felt like she was the kind of person who'd be more comfortable staring up from the darkness of the audience in rapt adoration at the dancer. (This year, she thought, lose ninety-five pounds. Next year, come out of the closet. After that, maybe she'd try climbing Everest.)
But she'd practiced the routine. She'd gone out and bought the costume, hunting around for hours in little out of the way shops and picking up second-hand jewelry and third-hand clothing and first-hand experience in haggling with little old ladies. Looking in the mirror, it all seemed to have paid off. Mary tucked a stray strand of dirty blonde hair behind her tiara, admiring the way the ruby in the middle seemed to glow as it caught the light. (Alright, the chunk of polished glass seemed to glow as it caught the light. Rubies didn't go for twenty bucks, no matter what that woman in the pawnshop tried to tell her.)
Now the only question was, would she dance?
Tonight, at least, the answer was yes. An audience of one didn't seem too threatening, especially not when the girl in the mirror would be dancing right along with her. Mary relaxed into the stance that now seemed to be second nature, letting her knees bend slightly and her arms hang loosely from her shoulders.
"Show respect to the Goddess," she whispered as she stretched out, getting her muscles loose. At first, Mary hadn't been totally at ease with some of the philosophy Madam Raisa had brought to the class. She'd just wanted to dance, not to become comfortable with her inner connection to her primal femininity. But even though Mary still thought it felt kind of, well...New Age-y, she had to admit that it helped her get into the dance to think of herself as connected to something larger, more powerful. Thinking of her body as an extension of a goddess helped soothe those stage jitters, just a bit. (But the very fact that she got stage jitters even when dancing alone in front of a mirror made her worry about trying to do a recital tomorrow.)
After a few moments of loosening her arms, shoulders, hips and legs, Mary pressed play on the CD player. After a moment, slow, melodic flute music started to play, and Mary began to dance.
She started simply, swaying her hips from side to side in tune with the music. With each sway, the belt of coins she wore around her waist jingled in an accompaniment to the flute. Mary remembered her first few lessons, how she'd lurched awkwardly on stiff knees. "You must be like water," Madam Raisa had said. "Your body must be fluid, you must flow from one motion to another. Supple as a willow, not solid as an oak."
She'd definitely improved since then, Mary decided as she watched herself dance in the mirror. Her whole body seemed to revel in the sensuous motions, her hands fluttering like doves as she swayed her hips in a figure-eight motion. The feeling of watching a stranger returned, stronger than ever. Mary had never really enjoyed looking at herself in the mirror before. She'd always spent the time detailing her own imperfections, but now...she was getting aroused, she realized. She was watching this strange, exotic woman she barely even recognized as herself dance a passionate, erotic dance and it was turning her on.
Somehow, that just seemed to inspire her to dance with even more energy. She began to sway her arms up and down like they were snakes, moving her head from side to side in a hypnotic rhythm. She felt almost like she was mesmerizing herself...no. That wasn't it. She felt like the woman in the mirror was mesmerizing her. The gem at the center of the tiara sparkled brightly as she shifted her head, almost dazzling in its brightness, and Mary felt like her eyes were being drawn into it.
She used that as her point of focus as she performed a spin, but she must have done something slightly wrong because instead of the focus reducing her dizziness, she felt slightly giddy as she returned to face the mirror again. It didn't show in her dancing, though. In fact, Mary felt like she'd never danced this well before.
She began to shimmy, her hips vibrating from side to side as she brought her knees up and down, and now Mary was sure she was dancing better than she'd ever danced before. She'd never been able to make the move look this fluid, this effortless; but as she stared at herself in the mirror, Mary saw everything that Madam Raisa had been trying to teach her, all expressed in the body of the other Mary who danced in unison with her. The coins serenaded her with their jangling tune as she shimmied her hips in time with the music.
Mary brought her hands together in front of her, then slowly pulled them apart while rolling her chest in slow, undulating waves. The motion seemed to accentuate her ample breasts (that was one place she'd been happy not to lose too much weight) in a way that made Mary's mouth water. Was it vain to get this turned on looking in the mirror? Perhaps it would be if Mary could shake the feeling that she was looking at someone else.
The music swelled as Mary danced, immersing herself fully in the rhythm, losing herself as she watched the other Mary dance in front of her. The mirror-Mary seemed somehow powerful, imperious and yet seductive, and Mary imagined herself being commanded to dance. Or maybe...she pictured the other Mary's dance mesmerizing her, entrancing her, so that she wasn't dancing so much as mirroring the hypnotic motions of the other Mary. She imagined mindlessly following the sway and bump of the hips, so perfectly held and captivated by this other woman that she was helpless to resist the rapport that made her dance in perfect unison with the hypnotic woman in the mirror.
Mary spun again, and it seemed almost like the woman in the mirror began to turn even before Mary did. She wasn't sure; the music and the dazzling, distracting brightness of the gem conspired with the endorphin rush of physical exertion to make her doubt her own senses, just a little. The illusion of standing in front of a doorway felt so real that Mary had a hard time denying it anymore. She blinked slowly, languorously as she danced, and she wasn't sure if the Mary in the mirror closed her eyes when she did.
She fluttered her hands up and down the length of her body like they were butterflies, and the motion only sent her deeper into this strange, erotic reverie she couldn't seem to shake. She felt a slow, dreamy smile spread across her face, but she must have imagined it because the Mary in the mirror just gave her a smoldering come-hither look that made her pussy suddenly flare up in sexual heat.
The more she fluttered her hands, now, the more confused she became. She'd grown so fixated on idea of the mirror-image as a different woman that she kept watching those hands, trying to figure out whether they were actually moving in unison with her own or if they were moving to a slightly different rhythm. But the motion of the hands was so hypnotic and distracting, and it was so hard to keep her eyes on her own hands and the mirror-girl's hands and dance all at the same time. Trying to take it all in just made her feel dizzy, and eventually she just let the worries go and danced. She didn't care anymore; she just wanted to dance and watch the other girl dance along with her.
She gave her all to the dance now, feeling as though she was performing a devotion to this wonderful erotic goddess that stood before her, and the woman in the mirror matched her passion in her own dance. Mary's whole body swayed and sank lower, slowly lowering herself to her knees as she framed her head with her hands and undulated her hips and chest. She was panting now, unsure whether it was exertion or lust that was making her breathe so heavily; and somehow as she watched the other Mary sink to her knees she found herself wanting to beg the other girl to rise, to tell her that a woman so commanding should never kneel.
It felt glorious, not terrible, when Mary watched the girl in the mirror get back to her feet. It felt so right, so perfect to be on her knees before her, still swaying slowly in time to the music as the mirror-girl's dance increased its tempo. The gem burned with an inner fire, drawing Mary's eyes like a magnet as the seductive motion of the dance burned its way into Mary's mind, and she couldn't help herself. Her hands pressed up against the layers of thin silk, finding her clit as though the cloth didn't even exist. She felt her juices soak through the sheer fabric, and the thought that she was pleasing the mirror-girl made her motions hotter, more urgent.
Mary felt the heat of her pussy right through her costume as she slid her finger into her wet slit, pushing the silk into her pussy and feeling the moisture seep through it. Her other hand found its way up to her breasts, massaging her nipples through the fabric. Her own dance was totally forgotten now; she was lost in watching the goddess in the mirror as she swiveled her hips in an erotic motion that inspired Mary to new heights of arousal. Every movement just turned Mary on more, and if there was a moment where she tried to figure out just how any of this could be happening, the tiny dance of her own fingers on her clit burned the thoughts away. The surges of arousal and pleasure just overwhelmed all her thoughts, leaving her with nothing but need and desire as she stared helplessly at the beautiful woman and fingered her needy cunt.
The mirror-Mary stepped through the doorway, the motion seamlessly integrated into the dance, and Mary felt like her masturbation was just one more part of their choreography. It was her role to kneel, to helplessly finger herself and gaze up at the mirror-girl whose dance was so enthralling, so erotic, so fucking sexy that Mary was really starting to lose it now...Mary pressed her thumb tightly on her clit, unable to stifle a moan as she came hard against her hand. Her pleasure was an offering to her new mistress, her new goddess. The understanding of her place at her mirror-lover's feet sparked another orgasm right on the heels of the first.
"Good pet," her mistress whispered, and Mary shivered at the stroking, purring tones of her voice. This was the Mary that she'd never been able to see in herself, even when it was right in front of her in the mirror, and Mary was so pleased that she could give up the burden of trying to be that powerful, sensual woman and let herself be the submissive pet she'd always wanted to be, deep down. She was hypnotized by the dance, hypnotized by the gem, hypnotized by herself, and she knew that tomorrow night, she'd be lost in a dreamy trance as she watched her Mistress dance and gazed in rapt adoration from the darkness.
Mistress unwound the cloth from her legs, exposing flesh slick with sweat and arousal. "Pleasure me, my sweet pet," she said, and Mary leaned forward eagerly to lick. Thoughts of tomorrow night could wait, she knew. Tonight, they would dance a different kind of dance, just the two of them.