Pricilla

Pearls dipped with sweat and tears. Put them on, honey, show’s about to start, and the wolves are already howling. Pricilla donned a body-tight white dress that had a plunging v neckline all the way down to her navel. Two thin straps of cloth held it together. This time she was wearing underwear, not that it mattered with this crowd. When morning came she would be lucky if she had any cloth pressed against her bare skin. 

Smile and play with the goods, they love that, babe. Neon lights cast her in shades of red, blue, green and yellow hues, like a human chameleon that couldn’t make up its mind. Howls and whistles came from outside her colorful spotlight; elsewhere around the place it was darkness. One strap fell, then the other. The dress was a cocoon and she was reborn when it fell.

She was a goddess, moving with such supple grace that even the crowd fell silent, entranced by her. A slow song playing from unseen speakers was her sole companion, she needed nothing more. The music had been Pricilla’s refuge from the first time she was here long ago, when their stares had made her flesh crawl. Now, when she danced nothing else mattered. Each night she died and was reborn, each night they devoured her and adored her. 

Slowly, she slid her white panties down just as the song faded into silence; the transformation was now complete, only the pearls remained. After a second the hush shattered into pieces as the crowd howled and cheered. With a faint smile, Pricilla blew them a kiss, turned around and sauntered back into the shadows.

Beautiful, babe. Beautiful.

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