The bagpipes are so loud, my ears are ringing. But I still want to dance more. The swing dress with the white petticoat makes me feel sexy, and my feet don't hurt yet. I look around for dance partners.
A hand on the nape of my neck. Warm and forceful. Automagically, my eyes look down at my feet. I calm down and I grow and blossom under her touch. "Let's dance," she whispers.
As we move to the dance floor, a mazurka starts. The hand on my neck wavers only for a second, and then applies more pressure. "You lead," she says. Obediently, I lay my right hand on her back, our arms touching the whole length, and I hold out my left for her to take. I take a deep breath and wait for the right count in the music. One twooo. One two three.
I sway and she follows flawlessly. I apply gentle pressure to her back and she hears every hint my body gives her. My eyes rest on her right breast in the lowcut top. I'm aware of the dancefloor, I navigate and lead at the same time, all from the corners of my eyes and my ears. We're not dancing alone at all, but no one else matters. Her fingers caress the nape of my neck and her breath is near my right ear.
"Your mouth is open." Her voice is soft, it takes me a few moments to work out what she said. "No, leave it open. I like it," she adds. "You look like a doll. My pretty dancing doll. You belong in a music box." My body continues to dance, while on the inside my heart flutters. Making her happy makes me happy.
Am I still leading or is she leading now? The dance makes me drift into a trance. Or maybe it's her hand. Or both. My head feels light and my eyes are unfocused. But we dance until the song ends, swaying me deeper under her power. One twooo. One two three.
When the music stops, there is applause, but she leads me away from the dancefloor. Her hand still rests on my neck. Not quite aware of my surroundings, I follow her up a few steps, through a doorway, over thick carpet, another doorway, into a quiet room. She tells me to sit and closes the door.
My mouth is still open, I can feel it but I don't want to close it. Still lightheaded and unfocused. A soft lamp is turned on and she approaches me. With light touches she moves my feet and pushes my legs apart. She rearranges the petticoat and drapes the skirt over the chair. She shifts my shoulders and lays my hands in my lap. Shivers run through my body as she touches me and poses me like a doll.
When she touches my face and poses my head, I feel a tingle in my forehead. My eyes grow wider but I can see even less. She moves in for a kiss and my lips tingle and remain limp. A happy glow follows her hand as she touches me more, the final touches. She moves away and I can hear a camera. I sit motionless as it flashes, a beautifully posed doll.
She moves in and upends the skirt and petticoat. More flashing. I feel unable to move and intensely happy. She unbuttons the dress and exposes my bra. More flashing. I am no more but her sexy doll and I enjoy every second of it. Her hand pulls the bra down to expose my nipples. More flashing. My mind is almost blank but for whatever she is doing to me.
A drop of drivel moistens the corner of my mouth. My heart flutters as she touches it and makes a smiling sound. She puts down the camera and touches my right nipple, pinching it. An involuntary gasp escapes my lips.
"Such a beautiful doll..." She sighs. Her hands roam my body and I shudder. As she starts to remove the dress, she says: "I wonder how anatomically correct you are..."