"I can dance here in public, if I want to," the damsel in white exclaimed by snapping her delicate fingers. She unfurled the lavender matting, stepped upon it and began her motions. Men stopped and drooled. Women fretted and frothed. Both sexes knew that no one could move like that, not in the natural way of muscles. The damsel appeared intensely concentrated on her motions, but she perceived minutely the entirety of those around her. She even knew intuitively which of the onlookers she would take with her when it came time to return. Her body began talking to one of the men she saw. "These motions are for you," her body told him. He understood and smiled back a suave declaration of physical lust, acknowledging the body she used. When the dance was over she beaconed him to join her on the tiny carpet she stood on. The rug lifted and soared into the air, bringing them to her kingdom where she reigned as princess, one whose hobby was the collection of men. In a night that had no need for words she enjoyed the new addition to her collection. When it was over he uttered chains of, "I love you, I love you." But she had decided the togetherness was an incident denouemented and closed, had him led to the harem room to be with the rest of the men gathering dust in her collection. In their idle time together the men found they had one thing in common. None of them could say "I love you" with body language.

Story #247