Reproduced here is a performance by Daneihra Mizugucci (Daneihra_Mizugucci). This performance is the direct copyright of myself, and may under no circumstances be used without my expressed permission.A gentle, meandering yet firm stride, tip-tapping faintly across the dance floor, leads Dane at last to the stage. One, two and three steps are taken, with barely a pause between, lithe body, clad barely within her usual dancing attire, glowing with exuberance, superfluous energy abounding within her form, for all to see. Soft pattering of heeled shoes, wandering towards centre stage, pausing for a second.. “ Dane “ She called over her shoulder.. Lit only by the light coming from the proverbial pole, the whole stage bathed now in a luxurious golden light, Dane herself seen only in silhouette, a halo of this golden light seen around the edges of her form, caressing each and every subtle curve within their comforting embrace. The darkened club, filled by the soft, relaxing music a gentle, faintly oriental sound, a small amount of background noise, barely noticed by its patrons. Slender fingers, porcelain complexion tonight lit up by richest gold, curl lightly around the pole, darkened shadow of her figure seen looking at it, deep in contemplation The tempo of the music picks up slightly, never-ending spirals of sound echoing through the shadowy club, and to this sound the figure of Dane, still seen only in silhouette, begins to move. Slow circles of her hips, free hand trailing over her body to rest lightly on a hip, the pose held.. Supported by the hand on the glowing pole, she swings her weight around gently, coming to face the crowds
Delicate features highlighted in rich gold, barely inches from the pole held so carefully, caressed between nimble fingers. The hand slides up, supporting her frame while she arches her back, body leaning forwards so as to press against the pole. From the middle of her breasts down to her subtle feminine curves, hips press tightly to this as though it were a lover, thigh raised slightly to one side...The silky smooth thigh rubs up and down one side of the gently glowing pole, stockings almost sheer doing nothing to hinder their progress. Reaching down once more for the floor, her legs spread slightly, filmy fabric of the short skirt clinging, both to her slender frame and the pole.. As gently, in loosely fluid motions, she lowers herself to the floor...With each tiny jerk, her lower abdomen and thighs grind teasingly against the pole, skirt beginning to bunch, static darkness clinging to all that it can find. Fabric gathers around her hips, though the pole gracefully conceals any sign of underwear. Golden sunshine bathes the otherwise smooth creaminess of her thighs, gradually spreading wider to each downwards movement... Dane reaches the ground, or the nearest she could possibly come to it without moving her feet beneath her. Thighs spread to either side of the pole, wide as could possibly imagine, a single hand drops from her hip to between her legs, tracing its way over the soft flesh of her inner thigh... Slender fingertips, pale flesh for once bathed in colour, every movement plainly lit up for view within the darkened club, the only other sources of light being the dull nightlamps set on each and every table. Fingers tease at her flesh, her expression a mixture of bliss and distended agony, probing higher along her thigh to that forbidden place residing within, disappearing behind the pole... At this time, the hand still curled around the pole begins to tug her from the spread squatting position, for a moment trapping her fingers between pole and flesh, as once more her lower self is ground savagely against the glowing pole. Her fingers reappear once more, with each sensual thrust of her ascent moving higher over her form, tracing over a hip, her stomach...Eventually pausing over her breast, perfect orbs of flesh echoing her movements with perfect rhythm. Through the near sheer fabric, made all the more translucent by the bright light shone upon it, dark stains show through, hard mounds aching to the touch, as though yearning to be free of their confines, calling for her fingers to give them attention... As she rises, at last coming to a full standing pose once more, yet somehow her legs staying buckled, bobbing up and down the last few inches of the pole, her skirt remaining bunched around her hips, revealing little by little the tender, golden hued flesh. Her hand refrains from caressing those fleshy globes any longer, instead dropping down, tugging softly at the bottom of her shirt...Little by little her ribs come into view, the sheer fabric sliding easily over the silky flesh. The fleshy mound comprising a breast comes into view, Her hand slipping away teasingly, soft fabric dropping to recover her flesh, fingers instead moving back to her stomach, playing gently with the shallow dip in her flesh there.. Tracing circles within a tender navel, gooseflesh appearing where her fingers trace, flesh pining for attention, begging to be touched, stroked, caressed by that touch soft as whisper. Dane for her part, cannot resist, heedless to the staring eyes of her would-be audience, oblivious to any presence but her own, lost in the magic of the moment... Her second hand looses its grip on the pole, it too joining its twin in the teasingly slow exploration of her body, hips still swaying gently to the rhythm of the gentle music. Wide circles, soft lines of her stomach and hips, graze still at the pole. Deft fingers pull once more at the fabric of her shirt, this time to pull it all the way over her head... Fabric crumples into a heap on the stage floor, disappearing from view. Flesh now revealed for all to see, soft round shapes trembling faintly with excitement, though moving faintly with the rhythm of her body’s movements. Shining brightly, fine misting of sweat catching the golden light, her body seeming to adopt an almost ethereal glow, a hand grips the pole, hips snaking from side to side...With each delicious movement, fleshy globes swaying gently from side to side, She might duck down slightly, grinding her hips once more to the pole. Delicate features beam with delight, pleasure, even arousal, though what thoughts might run through her mind as of now is kept strictly to herself. In one fluid motion, she has swung on her heels, orbiting the pole and coming to a sitting position on the stage.. Her back now to her audience, her thighs spread easily to each side of the pole, heeled shoes coming to rest with a faint click on the stage floor. With the single hand supporting her weight, she lowers herself back, lying on the cool stage floor. Breasts at last coming to a rest atop her form, she remains still for a moment or two, abdomen heaving with stuttered breaths.. She cannot remain still for long, slender fingers as always resuming their path over her body, travelling gently down from her neck, the twin sores there thankfully barely visible in this light. Trailing deliciously over her flesh, fingertips knead gently into her skin, golden hue invading all, over breasts and stomach she trails, skirting the folds of fabric pooled about her waist, remnants of a skirt…Hips grind gently at the pole with this movement, rump still barely clearing the floor despite her position, As her fingers delve still deeper, disappearing from the view of those who might care to watch, teasing tender flesh to the tune of a faint whimper, escaping without thought between parted crimson lips. Her body tenses, back arching and tugging all but her shoulders from the floor, seeming for a moment almost forgetting herself, lost in the depths of female ecstasy. Gathering her strength however, she continues this movement fluidly, shoulders eventually leaving the ground to return her to a vaguely upright, squatting position, legs still spread obscenely away from her audience..
Dark curls fall about her shoulders, tickling bare skin, but again, this is seen only in silhouette, as the form of Dane interrupts the blinding light from the pole, moving once more to a standing position, pressed tightly to the pole. She turns, delicious curves of her form catching the light for barely a moment, before they are hidden once again, banished to shadow for all but the most persistent - Lost to herself, she comes to lean against the pole, it slipping squarely between her shoulder blades. Eyes half closed, concentrating only on the music, the movements which must surely follow. Knees buckle and then reassert themselves, thrusting her body against its support, Hands now free of this task beginning to explore, as though of their own accord.. Fingers trail slowly about her form, teasing that which Dane knows, the most sensitive areas of her form, lower stomach and hips receiving gratefully the tentative explorations, gooseflesh once more rising to her touch. With each writhing movement rocking her softly against the pole, her hands delve lower, teasing at last the fabric remaining to her, which no longer bunched around her waist. With a reluctant snap, the clasp is undone, fabric wobbling dangerously as it slips a few inches, supported now only by the nimble fingers clasping to gently to it. The rocking of her hips sends her downward somewhat, with this another inch or so given, white lace of her panties coming into view, shining brightly against the otherwise dark areas of flesh and clothing.. Soft crimson parts in a smile, playing teasingly across her lips, as though knowing for herself the tension, holding til she can resist no longer, Her grip releasing, Dark fabric pooling swiftly around her ankles. With a kick of one foot, this is tossed easily to the edge of the stage, forgotten.. Tender flesh of her hips, pale flesh blending with her underwear, so it is uncertain where one begins and the other ends.. Soft lacy fabric is the next to receive her attentions, gentle probing fingers playing with the rough texture, though pointedly avoiding the dark smudge showing through, perhaps a final show of stubbornness. Ring of bright gold encircles her form, tinting the flesh and that clothing remaining to her an exuberant hue, champagne smoothness, trembling faintly as though aching to be touched…In this strange trance-like state, emerald iris’ all but hidden by the thick lashes lining her lids, all but closed, Dane slips down the pole once more, adopting for the second time that obscene squat, this time bared for all to see. Nought but a small piece of lacy protecting her from prying eyes. Yet, despite the intense vulnerability projected, still this remaining protection itches for freedom.. Her head tilts back slightly, all traces of consciousness lost to the depths of this strange ecstasy. In this pose, legs spread wide without a care, her hands tease at the edges of those lacy panties, tugging at them irritably, only to give up, allowing them to slip back into place. A slight grimace comes to her face, though from pleasure or frustration, is uncertain.. - With a snap, her legs come together, rear still kept from the floor by her leaning against the pole. Kept hidden from the eyes of her audience, lace slides slowly down her thighs, slipping easily to the ends of her ankles, to join the other articles of clothing discarded about the stage. With a simple twist she twirls into a standing position.. As she twists, that same dark smudge forming into the delicate patch of fine hair it always was, though one barely gets the chance to appreciate this. The spin continues, fleshed pad of her rear coming just into focus, all the while the lighted pole fading to nothing, the stage slowly fading to darkness.. But an instant, or so it would seem to any watching, and the stage is lit again, empty.. 
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