"Ok girls, we just want you to walk to the end of the hallway and back," Mist told them. "You're in no hurry. Just a casual stroll."
A woman a little older than Orchid and her Sister, who hadn't been introduced or said a word, began playing a slow, soft tune on a pianoforte. The girls followed each other down the hall, dressed in their new, very tight slacks and embarrassingly tiny tops.
Orchid was acutely aware of the way the little top flapped as she walked, her nipples peeking out from underneath with each step. The floor was cool under her bare feet, and without even realizing it, her steps began to match the rhythm of the song.
They had spent years learning how to make even something as mundane as strolling down a hall a graceful act, and moved smoothly through their lap, returning to wear Mist stood and the old mother sat in a chair, watching and judging.
The younger woman nodded and frowned thoughtfully. "Not bad," she said in approval. "We can work with this."
"Bah!" the old mother spat. "It's like watching buffalo, the way they stomp!"
The girl's faces burned, insulted but unwilling to say anything and risk the elderly woman's sharp tongue. They didn't need to defend themselves-Mist did it for them.
"Oh poo," she said. "It's fine."
She turned to the girls. "You're all graceful and smooth. The problem is, you're also reserved. Controlled. Far too demure."
She smiled. "What you want to be is sensual. Seductive. Feline, even. You want to draw the attention of every eye."
She loosened her robe and let it slide down her body. "Watch, now," she said, and took her own walk.
The girls gaped, their mouths open. They'd never seen a woman wear such a revealing outfit. Mist's top was even smaller than their own, and her bottoms were scandalous-little more than a tiny triangle in front, with thin strings that wrapped around her narrow hips and between her otherwise bare buttocks.
They'd never seen shoes like hers before either. On Mulvadora, woman wore flat sandals or slippers, or warm boots when the weather was cold. In their brief time on Vens, the girls had gone barefoot.
Mist was wearing open toed shoes that had a narrow spike at the back, making it look like she was walking on her tiptoes. To Orchid, it looked very uncomfortable.
"Watch my feet," Mist called out softly as she turned. The girls how she took short steps, and placed her feet almost directly in front of each other, as if she was walking on an invisible straight line.
She stopped to show them exactly how her feet landed, the heel of the front foot directly in front of the toes of the back.
"This time, watch my hips," she said, and started another circuit. With each step, her hips twitched from side to side, making her bottom jiggle alluringly.
"Don't swing your hips," she told them. "Don't overdo it. Just let your body flow naturally."
"Your shoulders will move too," she said as she walked back towards them. "That's good. It makes your breasts bounce and sway."
She stopped and put her hand on Gem's shoulders, smiling as she addressed the whole group.
"Your walk should be a dance," she instructed. "rhythmic and lovely. You have beautiful bodies. Be proud of them. Display them proudly. They are a gift from the gods."
Her hand moved onto Gem's back, and she guided the girl around her. "Give it a try, sweetheart," she encouraged.
With a gulp, Gem began walking. She was awkward at first, thinking about where to put her feet, but after a few steps got the hang of it.
"Remember," Mist continued telling them, "you want to draw attention to yourself. You want to be noticed, to be looked at, to be admired and desired."
She smiled at Gem as she re-joined the group, and sent Flower on her way. The old mother sat in her chair, silent and scowling.
"Not bad at all," Mist said, smiling at Gem. To Flower, she called softly "don't rush, sweetheart. You're not trying to get it over with."
They could see the girl slow down, and Orchid thought it helped. Flower swayed prettily, and Orchid found herself silently thinking "step...step...step..." as she tried to follow the rhythm of the music.
One by one, the girls were sent down the hall to walk a lap or sometimes two, and given instruction, criticism, and praise.
"Relax," Mist told Heather, turning her to walk again. "You're way too tense. Flex your knees, remember to breathe, and use the music."
Old mother let the first few girls attempts pass without comment, but when Ornament took her turn, she could hold her tongue no longer.
"Girl, you look like you're walking to your own execution," she grumbled, shaking her head.
"Smile," she told the girl. "Stand up straight and enjoy what you're doing. This is supposed to be fun! You're learning how to be beautiful when you walk, not being punished!"
Mist put an arm around the tiny girl's shoulders and whispered in her ear. Orchid could see her take a couple deep, slow breaths, and she walked the hallway again.
"A little better," old mother said grudgingly when she was done.
Wisteria went next, and when she got back to the group old mother called her over to her chair.
"You, girl, need to do it different. Forget about not swinging your hips. You need to shake that big butt."
She stretched out her thin arms, holding her hands about six inches from Wisteria's hips.
"When you walk, pretend there's a target on each side of you-right here," she said as the girl looked down. "You want to hit those targets with every step."
Wisteria walked again, this time tossing her hips from side to side.
"A little less, dear," Mist called. Orchid thought she looked kind of silly, but the woman were pleased. Mist gave the girl a warm smile as she returned, and even old mother nodded her approval.
When it was Breath's turn, Orchid felt her fists clench, hoping her friend would do well. She thought Breath looked graceful and feminine, but the old mother was not pleased.
Girl, you walk like you're trying to stamp out a fire. Walk soft! You're not a marching soldiers, you're a pretty girl. Gliiiide," she growled.
"Step more on your toes and the balls of your feet," Mist added as the girl tried again.
Midnight was also encouraged to lift her heels, adding a little bounce to her steps-and to her ample bosom. The girl flushed, partly in pride and partly in embarassment, as her breasts shook and wobbled.
Then Orchid was up. She took a deep breath, trying to relax and let her movements flow.
"Ugh!" the old mother grumbled. "Girl, you're about as graceful as a carp in a corn field."
"You're stiff," Mist told her. "Stiff and thinking way too much about what you're doing. Free your mind, sweetheart. Let your body move the way it wants to move."
Chastised and humbled, she tried again. Old mother of course scowled at her, but Mist gave her a nod.
"That's a little better. Try this," she said. She arranged Orchid's arms so her left hand was on her hip, the fingers pointing at the floor, and her right arm was bent at the elbow, her hand waist high.
Orchid moved down the hall again, and the new position of her arms seemed to help. Her walk flowed, seeming smoother.
"You've got a long way to go, girl," old mother grumbled, "but at least you don't look like you're gonna fall on your face that way."
Orchid gave the old woman a small smile, recognizing that (from her) that was praise.
One by one, the rest of the girls took their turn. Heart also heard some harsh words, the old mother telling her 'you look you're struggling in a hurricane.'
