Olivia looked at her reflection in the full-length mirror, and wondered if she could really dance in this outfit.
She'd danced in some pretty racy outfits before, in her time onstage and off, and realistically, it didn't show that much more skin than her normal outfit. But the new garb for the Plegian festival felt… it was different!
And she still wasn't sure if she would even go onstage! It was a festival honoring Grima! The Fell Dragon! She'd fought to save the world from that monster! She couldn't dance for a festival that was supposed to honor that monster!
But… but Tharja had asked her so nicely… she hadn't even threatened her with a hex or a curse. She'd just… said it would mean a lot if she danced for the festival. She'd even told Olivia that she could back out at any time, and she would understand.
She'd even given Olivia an important dance to perform! It was a solo number, a devout individual offering herself to the Fell Dragon, to be performed at the height of the festivities. It was supposed to reinforce the themes of spirituality and sacrifice that ran through the festival.
And of course she'd said yes. She told Tharja that she'd be happy to dance in her festival, that she was glad her friend had trusted her with such an important dance. She'd learned the steps. She'd practiced the routine. She'd told her friend that she'd help out. Tharja had given her an out, sure, but she couldn't just back out the day before… right?
No! She told herself firmly. You're not backing out of this, so stop thinking about it. Tharja chose you for this.
Convinced for now, Olivia's attention returned to the mirror, and the outfit she was wearing. She inspected the fabric covering her chest and her crotch, making sure everything that needed to be hidden was. She had a feeling plenty of people in the audience would be doing the same.
With her inspection complete, she sighed. She knew she was stalling, putting off her practice like she always did when she was nervous. She took a deep breath, centered herself, and, with the music playing in her mind, she started the dance, and watched herself in the mirror. She scrutinized her performance, the way her hips and hands moved, the way she navigated the steps of the dance… and she couldn't help but notice every imperfection in her own dancing.
She knew she was her own worst critic. Plenty of people had told her so. But this was different, right? This wasn't one of her normal dances, or some play she'd been asked to perform. Tharja, her friend, had asked her to dance for her festival. And it was an important dance, as well! Good enough wouldn't be good enough, and Olivia didn't think she was even close to good enough!
She stopped dancing, frustrated, and huffed. She'd never had this kind of trouble with learning a dance before. She'd learned other dances on her own, that wasn't the problem. But something just… just wasn't clicking. At this rate, she just wasn't going to get anywhere. And her thoughts went to the box sitting on her bed.
She'd gone to Tharja before, with her troubles learning the dance, her uncertainty at being chosen. Tharja had asked if she wanted to back out, and of course, Olivia had said no. So Tharja came back to her the next day with the box, calling its contents a 'confidence booster.' "If you start to feel like you're not good enough," she'd said, "or you're not ready for this performance, just put it on."
Olivia turned around, walked over to her bed, and opened the box. Inside was a set of accessories. They were copies of some of the accessories that she was already wearing, but instead of green gemstones, these were set with vibrant purple ones. There was also a small, folded piece of paper inside the box, which Olivia took, and unfolded.
It was a note. "To bestow Grima's confidence upon you. -Tharja." Olivia chuckled at the implication, and laughed at the thought of her calling the other dancers 'Pathetic worms.' Already feeling a little bit better, Olivia set about switching out the accessories: The long, flowing ribbons tied atop her gloves; the sash that sat between her chest and midriff; the necklace attached to the decorative gorget; and the ornament that sat atop her head, the Eye of Grima. She didn't know that she felt any more confident now that they were on, but she knew she felt better.
But as she walked back in front of the mirror, she was blown away by how different her reflection looked. It wasn't just the purple, either - the person staring back at her was confident… sensual… powerful. Olivia felt as though she'd stepped in front of a doorway instead of a mirror. It seemed that the accessories had done more for her than she'd thought. Was that really her?
She pushed the thought from her mind, took a deep breath, and centered herself, ready to try the dance again. She let the music play in her mind once more, and her dance began again. Her hips swayed from side to side, in time with the music in her head, and the gem above her stomach flashed in the light of the room with each sway. As the music picked up, the sway changed to a figure-8, and her hands fluttered like doves around her body.
The sense that she was watching a stranger in the mirror returned, stronger this time. She'd had such a difficult time with this dance, but the dancer in the mirror made it look so easy. She danced each step flawlessly, fluidly… watching her dominate this private stage, Olivia realized the sensual undertones that the dance had, and how perfectly her mirror self seemed to play into them. Olivia's core thrummed warmly at the realization.
The dance continued, and the steps became more energetic, the sways more pronounced. Her head moved with the rest of her body, her arms and hands framing her face and body. The gem at the center of the Eye on her head sparkled brightly as she danced, and Olivia felt her eyes drawn to it. She imagined herself dancing to captivate and mesmerize her audience… No, no that wasn't quite right. It was the woman in the mirror that was doing it to her.
Olivia used the gem in the Eye as the point of focus for a spin. Rather than reduce her dizziness, though, she felt a little giddy as she completed the turn and faced the mirror again. It didn't show, though. In fact, Olivia felt certain this was the best she'd danced. This dance, certainly, but maybe ever.
The music changed again, and Olivia shimmied her hips, brought her hands together in front of her, and pulled them apart as she rolled her chest in slow, sensuous waves that called attention to her breasts, and made the gem in her necklace and the one below her chest flash and shine. She'd never felt like she'd been able to make the move look good, but her mirror self had no such issues, and watching it play out in front of her, like it was intended, made her mouth water. Was it vain to feel so turned on from looking in a mirror? Maybe, Olivia supposed, if she could just shake the feeling that it was someone else in the mirror.
The music swelled to a peak, and Olivia immersed herself entirely in the rhythm and the music and the dance, losing herself in the performance as she watched the mirror Olivia dance in front of her. She seemed powerful. Dominating. Seductive. Olivia imagined her mirror self commanding her to dance. Or maybe… maybe her mirror's dance was mesmerizing her. Entrancing her, so that she wasn't dancing herself, just matching the other Olivia step for step. She imagined mindlessly following along with every sway and bump of her hips, every sensuous motion of her hands, so captivated by the other woman that she couldn't resist her power, couldn't help but dance in perfect sync with the hypnotic woman in the mirror.
Olivia spun again, and she thought she saw the woman in the mirror start the turn before she had. She couldn't be sure, though. The music in her head and the dazzling light of the gems and the rush of the dance and the growing heat in her core all conspired to make her doubt her senses a little. The illusion of standing in front of a doorway didn't feel like an illusion anymore. It seemed so real that Olivia didn't think she could deny it any longer. She blinked, slowly, and she didn't know if the Olivia in the mirror had closed her eyes when she had.
Her hands fluttered up and down her body like butterflies, and it sent her deeper into the strange, heated dream she felt certain she was in. She felt a dreamy smile slowly spread itself across her face, but she must have imagined it, because the Olivia in the had no such smile. She was wearing a smoldering come-hither look that sent Olivia's arousal spiralling towards new heights.
Her hands continued to flutter, to trace her curves, and as they did, Olivia felt herself grow more confused. She'd grown so certain that the woman in the mirror was a different person that she kept watching those hands as they framed her chest or her hips or the flashing gems. Now she was trying to figure out if the way they moved matched her own movements, or if they were dancing to her own, slightly different rhythm. But her hands were moving in such hypnotic and distracting ways, and the gems kept flashing bright in her eyes, it was so hard to watch both her own hands and the hands moving in the mirror at the same time. Trying to keep it all straight was making her head spin. Eventually, she decided that she didn't care, and she let her worries go. She just wanted to dance, and to watch the other woman dance along with her.
She put everything she had, everything she was, into the dance now. She felt like she was growing to understand the dance, now, and its place in the festival. She was performing a devotion to the wonderful, erotic goddess that was standing there with her, and the woman in the mirror was matching Olivia's passion with her own. She was panting now, thanks in equal part to exertion and lust, her chest rising and falling with her ragged gasps for air. As the music signalled the approaching end of the dance, Olivia's whole body swayed, and she sank, slowly lowering herself to her knees in supplication as the dance came to its end. But the other Olivia sank along with her, and Olivia found herself begging her goddess to rise.
So it felt glorious, not terrible, when Olivia watched the woman in the mirror stand back on her feet. It felt so right, so perfect, to be on her knees before her goddess, swaying gently in time to the music of a new song as the mirror-goddess's dance resumed. The gem in Grima's eye atop her head burned with an inner fire, drawing Olivia's own eyes to it like a magnet, and as the Goddess in the mirror continued her seductive dance, Olivia found she couldn't help herself. Her hand pressed against the thin layers of silk at her crotch, and found them thoroughly soaked. Her fingers found her clit like the fabric wasn't even there, and she moaned at the contact. A pleased smile graced the face of her Goddess, and the thought that she'd been pleased made Olivia's actions all the more urgent. She slid her hand under her clothes, and slipped two fingers into her pussy. Her other hand rose up to her breasts, and started kneading it, playing with it through the fabric. Her fingers found a rock-hard nipple, and squeezed, and her moans echoed through the room.
Her own dance was long-forgotten in the haze of bliss Olivia felt as she lost herself watching the goddess in the mirror perform hers. Every swing of her hips and caress of her hands and utterly captivating glance of her burning purple eyes brought Olivia to breathtaking heights of arousal, and if there was a moment where she tried to piece together how any of this could be happening, the dance of her own fingers on her chest and in her pussy and against her clit cast those thoughts from her mind. The arousal and the pleasure and the reverence all mixed together and overwhelmed her thoughts, and it was all she could do to sit there and finger herself as she stared, helplessly, hopelessly captivated by the beautiful goddess before her.
The mirror-Olivia stepped through the doorway, seamlessly including the move in her dance, and Olivia found herself thinking that her masturbation was just her part to play in this dance. It was her role in this performance to kneel, to finger herself and helplessly gaze up at the woman who had so effortlessly enthralled her with her dance. She was so erotic, so gods-damned sexy that Olivia was starting to lose it. Her place was at the feet of her Goddess, she thought, and her pleasure was an offering to her. This was her offering, her sacrifice.
The realization, the understanding, and the orgasm all hit her at the same time. Olivia came, kneeling at the feet of her Goddess.
"Good pet." Her Goddess whispered. Olivia shivered at the praise, and the purr in her voice. She felt a hand stroke through her hair at the back of her head, and Olivia hummed in joy at the affection her Goddess had allowed her. She was enthralled by the dance, dazzled by the gems, hypnotized by herself and entranced by the Goddess before her, and she was confident that, tomorrow, she would dance. Tomorrow, she would dance with the passion and the understanding and the devotion that she'd discovered here.
Her Goddess pulled her clothes away, exposing her slick slit, wet with sweat and arousal, and Olivia focused on thoughts of tonight. She leaned forwards, and tasted the first drops of her Goddess on her lips and her tongue, and all thoughts of tomorrow were banished from her mind. Tonight, Olivia would learn a very different dance.