GYWO Yahtzee 2023 1/1

[reneescarted]

Title: Night Dancer
Fandom or Original Universe: original
Rating: Mature/Adult (implied but not explicit)
Word count: 664
Summary: A woman is doing air acrobatics at a night club for a living. Is there more to her than just her body?
Warnings/triggers: adult themes, stripper/night club, implied prostitution
Writing Prompt: pp069 

She was a graceful dancer, twirling through the air, her silk ribbons following her every move. Their color was deep purple in the shadow and dark pink in the light - she looked almost like a fairy in old folk tales, only coming out at night, dancing as naked as the day she was born.

She wrapped the ribbons around her, covering herself for a moment before she started her spiraling fall, stopping at the very last moment before hitting the cold, hard floor. She held the position, letting the men take in the suspense and then its catharsis. The clapping started soon enough.

The men... Some were regulars and familiar to her eyes, quite a few even familiar to her body. Others were bright-eyed newbies, just tasting the sweet forbidden fruit of night clubs, the sight of naked ladies all ready to entertain their audience. She knew most of them didn't find their way here on their own, but were usually introduced by their more seasoned fellows. For now, they were staring with open mouths, too shy to act on their budding fantasies, but given a few more evenings, they would get bolder, ask for a private dance, or even something more. Lucky for them, most girls couldn't afford to turn down the generous tip that came with the after-hour activities.

She felt the ogling eyes of the men on her body like physical touches. She did her best to ignore them as she took her only real pleasure from doing something that only very few were able to do. She knew a man, maybe even two, would be waiting near her dressing room later, indicating that her night wouldn't end with completing her performance.

Yet all they ever saw was her body. Some thought they loved her, or were trying to be kind and humane, bringing flowers and gifts, to be able to say that they treated her differently than the others, that they were not only after sating their own lust. The truth was that no one looked deeper than the surface, no one asked or even cared how she got into this kind of life, why she had to keep with it.

No one cared that long ago she was preparing to be a ballet dancer, until a knee injury put an end to those dreams. Discarded like a broken doll, she realized that there was nothing else she was good at, and had to do what she had to do to survive, to pay for her stingy apartment, put food on the table, and maybe save enough money to get an education and break free of the superficial hellhole of night clubs.

Even beyond that, no one cared that she was human, that she had feelings. That she had her own lust, her preferences, things that hurt her and things that disgusted her. She was just a toy to be used, one to respectfully and quietly sneak away while her partner, if such a word could even be used, floated away on the clouds of their own pleasure.

No one cared that she was disgusted with this life, and some days, disgusted with herself. The miriad of regrets she had about her family, her ex, the friends that all abandoned her as she spiraled downwards into rot. No one cared that once she had been a daughter, a sister, a girlfriend, a proper part of society just like any one of them.

Her perfomance finished and she wrapped the ribbons around her as she curtsied, the soft silk caressing her like no lover ever would. She bowed her head to hide the tears away as she saw a man stand up and head backstage, probably with a pocket full of money and the promise of a night of emotionless pleasure. Pleasure for him, anyway.

With resolve, she shooed these thoughts into the back of her mind, where they belonged. She was human. And she would get through this, too.