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One hand of her own found its way between her own legs, but just for an instant as the crowd gathered and the reaction became louder. She loved the attention, though she was really only doing this for Mike. The tempo of the music slowed so she used the choreography she had been working on for a couple of months, to ease her way back to the pole. Holding with only one hand to the cold steel pole, she lazily dragged her body around it with a loose grip allowing herself to lower to the floor. Then with her ass to the crowd, back arched, head back, she crawled her hands back up the pole with surprising ease. She grabbed it with her feet tightly and lifted herself high off the ground, then did a back dive while still spinning, thighs carefully but barely saving her from a fall. She continued to work the pole to the slower tempo of the music in a more wistful, feminine manner. The men were mesmerized, the women jealous. She was in her own little world. The world she often escaped into when. For a split second, I consideredthat I'd been mummified and buried alive, but no: I was vertical, for astart, and hanging from something. I could also hear something: itsounded like Darth Vader's breathing. My hair stood on end for a momentuntil I realised it was the sound of my own short breaths being taken inthrough my nose through something wrapped around my face."MmmMMMmmmph! MmmMMPH!"My mouth was packed to capacity with something soft and moist, butclamped shut by pressure around my jaw. I began to struggle, but couldn'treally do much. I could jerk my head around, feeling a foreign weightalmost wobble in front of my nose and mouth along with others behind myhead, and bang the front something against walls close either side of me,but I was sure it couldn't be heard over the din of the music if I waseven still in the house.I took a panic wracked moment, not sure what to do. I began to takemental inventory of my body, feeling strange tightness everywhere,especially around my torso..
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