She takes one hand from the caged ceiling and runs it over her breasts, her stomach, down to her pussy. She is hot and wet, already wet through the thin lingerie material. One more hour to go. She dances harder now, sweating in the heat of the bathhouse and the heat and smell of her own body. One arm hangs from the whip, the other hand clutches the wire overhead.
More women stop, watch, enjoy.
She drinks mineral water, intentionally spilling some down her cleavage, and dances on. The woman seems confused because the dancer is clothed compared to the other performers. She watches, leaves. Another group of women stop by. She drops the string strap, shaking her breasts and pinching her own nipples.