When Sanaii received a dance scholarship to the prestigious Hill University, it was a dream come true for her hard working, small town parents. Their daughter would have a chance to pursue her artistic dreams, and their modest middle income tax bracket would not be a barrier to her receiving an education at a school with tuition exceeding their combined income.
For Sanaii, it was another story. She had always been shy except on the dance floor, and she looked forward to college being the time she could really break out of her shell to reinvent herself as the dynamic individual she dreamed she could be.
In reality, the Hill culture had forced her into a box labeled "spaceship" and sealed it shut. "Spaceship" was one of the less obnoxious names people like her on campus were called. They were students who were not rich, not white, and in every way "other". They might has well have been from another planet, hence the term spaceship. There were other even more blatantly racist names, but the appearance of PC was still very much the fashion.
Sanaii was considered one of the lucky ones by the other spaceships. She had a full ride and a stipend. Sanaii was too quiet to protest that in some ways it was worse for her. There was at least the perception that the other 'ships worked and earned their keep. Sanaii fought the stereotype that she had been given everything, not by her talent, but by some unseen quota hand. She danced until her toes bled sometimes to prove to everyone, even herself, that her talent was paying for her education and nothing was given for free. Loneliness was the ultimate price she paid. She missed her family. She couldn't overcome her innate shyness, and it only took two girls she met the first week of class to spread the rumor among the other 'ships that she was stuck up. The rumor coupled with the fact she didn't have to do work study and was one of the only 'ship classical dance majors effectively sealed her doom. She was an outcast among those who should have welcomed her and invisible to those others who would not consider her worth an invitation.
Dance was her only home.
She read in the school newspaper an announcement for a "Mask" night at a local club and figured what the hell. A chance to dance and be invisible sounded like it was made for her. Another night of being ignored by her roommate and potato chips was much less enticing.
That night Sanaii wore a red skirt with a deep slit and a bronze colored halter top. She slipped gold plated bangles on her toned brown arms and turned her twisted hair into a free flowing knot. She turned the gold Venetian inspired mask she picked up at a costume shop in her hands. She thought briefly of the old Venetian legend that when one wears the mask, one becomes it.
She smiled looking at the fancy, sexy mask.
"If only...," she whispered. *******
She stumbled into the club alone. As she presumed most of the patrons were white, but the music was a contemporary mix and the music was what she came for. She slipped on her mask.
Sanaii quickly learned anonymity was not the same as invisibility. Being overlooked and seen through made one feel small. Anonymity was a mystery that lent itself to seduction. Without a face, without a name or reputation, she was the sensual, agile animal that flowed like water from note to note without fear or restriction. Sometimes she danced with a guy or girl in close proximity, but most often she danced alone and people watched. She was acutely aware of the attention, and rather than cower from it she played it like a virtuoso. She reveled in the envy or lust she glimpsed in some of the shining eyes surrounded by odd decorations. She paused only to quench her parched throat with club soda she ordered, but as the night wore on mysterious drinks appeared in her hands.
She felt so uninhibited she didn't question or care. She just kept dancing. She started to feel dizzy as the club overcrowded, and people pressed into every side around her swaying and playing grab ass. She felt strong arms come up behind her as if to steady her
"Thank you," she whispered softly as she leaned into the support of the stranger's strong chest.
His cause was clearly not benevolent, as he curved his hips against her ass and she felt his erection. At the same time the music changed to a slower tempo, and her body on auto pilot started to sway seductively.
"You're so sexy." The stranger's breath whispered harshly in her ear as he gripped her low on her hip and sealed her tight against his body.
Sanaii's nipples hardened and her clit throbbed as arousal rolled through her body. She reached behind her and looped her arm around his neck to press his lips close to her ear. His straight hair slide over her fingers like silk.
Her skirt whispered past her thighs, and she realized too late that his other hand was there slipping past the slit to touch her bare legs.
"No," she hissed tearing away from the stranger's arms.
The quick motion set her head spinning again, and she found herself pushing and stumbling through the crowd to reach one of the bathrooms.
The club had a big unisex stall facility. Sanaii was hesitant about wading through the crowd of people milling outside the stalls. She felt her way along the dark walls looking for somewhere more private. She managed to find a single bathroom with an "Employees Only" sign on the door. She uttered a silent apology for breaking the rules and let herself in. It was blissfully quiet and mostly clean.
She started to feel less queasy and dizzy after she splashed cold water on a paper towel and ran it across the back of her neck. Slipping off her mask to splash her face, she closed her eyes for just a second, and the bathroom door opened and closed quickly behind her.
She turned to see a guy in a Zorro mask. He was not super tall but he was built, and she worried maybe he was a bouncer.
"I'm sorry; I know this is for employees only. I'll leave."
"You're not going anywhere, kitty cat." He whispered.
Her heart sped up.
"You shouldn't have left me on the dance floor like this."
He indicated his crotch and the way the fabric stretched tight over his erection.
Sanaii's face heated.
