Ballet Dancers

*Disclaimer: All characters involved are over the age of 20. The story involves troubling themes, so reader discretion is advised.

I joined a ballet troupe at the request of my mother.

"You will be as beautiful and as graceful as a swan!" She says wistfully as she combs back my long, flowing brown hair in front of the mirror.

"I'm not a child anymore mum, I'm 21! I can brush my own hair!" I whine.

'Oh poppet" she sighs, "you'll always be my little girl inside my head. Besides, you need some good, wholesome fun in your life. You are growing up and becoming an adult. The sense of community that you'll get from doing ballet will be so rewarding and besides, you've already had so many years of practice. Trust me, when I was your age, I had a blast doing ballet! Laughing with the other girls, dancing to pretty music, going to slumber parties with cakes and late night chick flicks. Ahh.... those were the days"

God, it all sounded so cheesy.

"But I already have friends!" I moan. Big fat lie. No one wants to be friends with the girl with anxiety so bad that she can't even speak sometimes. People just glance awkwardly at me when they see me and do that pitying little half smile that I've come to despise more than anything. My mother finishes brushing my hair and lays down the comb.

"I won't hear another word of resistance" She says sternly. "The instructor is a very nice man and has been teaching girls just like yourself for 10 years. He's very good." At her words, I sigh, feeling exasperated but I know that she won't budge any further so I'll just have to go along with it. You can't tell my mother no more than once, she just won't take it.

A couple of weeks later, I'm standing at the front doors of the ballet workshop. Through the windows, I see four or five girls standing around, chatting animatedly. Panic rises in my throat and I imagine myself turning and running until I reach the border to the next state. I stand there mortified as I watch them through the glass, pulling at their silky outfits and slapping their supple shoes around, ribbons fluttering. I turn to start walking back home when I collide with a fat bellied man who almost knocks me to the ground.

'I...I...I'm so-so-so-sorry!" I stammer as I recover.

"Don't worry about it" He chuckles "My, My, you were in quite a daze! Say, you don't happen to be the new addition to our little ballet family do you?" This is when I look him properly for the first time. He looks to be in his late 50s and hideously unattractive. He's wearing a pair of long black pants and a salmon shirt that barely contains his plump belly. He's also extremely hairy. However, there's something in his smile that instantly puts me at ease.

"Ye-yes" I blush and look at my feet. I look back up to where his eyes are roaming up and down my body and I can't help but blush harder.

His smile turns into a grin. "Perfect! Come in and meet the girls" He puts his hand on my lower back and begins to guide me through the sliding glass door. I guess I can't run away any more. We walk into the workshop and all the girls immediately move in on us to us like an excited flock of pigeons.

"Mr Damen, I wanted to show you my impression of the ugly duckling!" one girl implores.

"Can you tell me if my piece has the correct timing?" another one pipes in.

"I want you to take a look at my footwork" A dark haired girl says from slightly further back.

"Ah yes, right away Janett" He says turning to her. The other girls pout, turning to go and do their own things. "I'll be right back in a few minutes my dears!" He promises. With that, Mr Damen and the girl Janett walk away and I'm left standing there, unsure what to do. Eventually a tall, dark girl waves me over to where her and another girl are practicing warm ups.

"What's your name?" she asks, cocking her head and eyeing me through her long lashes.

"Matilda," I whisper.

"Sorry, what was that?" she asks a little louder and I feel my face turning red.

"It's Matilda." I say a little louder. The girl nods and looks at me a little weirdly. She opens her mouth to say something but I get in first. "Where's the bathroom?" I blurt out. She looks startled for a second but then points down the hall with a polished finger. As I leave, her friend begins to giggle.

What I thought was a bathroom at first turns out to just be a storage room so I keep looking and I eventually get lost in the maze of corridors and tiny mirror filled rooms. I hear distant laughter at times but as I whip my head around to locate the direction, I can't for the life of me find out where it's coming from. Despite the fact that I have no idea where I am, I can feel myself calming down a little. My daydreaming is soon interrupted by the faint sound of panting, like someone has been running a marathon.

I quickly shrink back for a moment before realizing that I'm alone in the dim corridor. The sound seems to be coming through the crack in a door, barely audible over the gentle swell of string instruments frantically playing through a little speaker. I tiptoe over to the sliver of light to look through and what I see shocks me to the core.

A few feet away from me sits a huge table covered in scrunched up silky stage curtains. A large paper mache moon with a sad face rests against its leg but that's not what draws my attention. The fat form of Mr Damen stands over Janett who is lying draped over the table amongst the deep red silk, pale legs thrown over his shoulders, getting pounded. He groans out her name and falls forward, continuing his onslaught on her slight frame. My fingers curl around the doorknob and I bite my lip as I watch something I know I wasn't meant to see.

"Oh fuck!" He grunts. "Oh fuck!." Janett is gasping like a fish, her hands clutching fistfuls of the material around her as her body is pushed back and forth by his suffocating weight. I've never seen two people doing it before and I'm transfixed. It looks like he is trying to devour her as his trembling mouth finds the corner of her lips, her shuddering neck and jiggling breasts. I look down to where his stiff cock emerges for a mere second before repeatedly plunging back into the depths of her body.

It's mere minutes later that I watch him cry out and fall on top of her, completely burying himself in her. I don't know much about sex but I'm pretty sure he just came. My suspicions must be correct because Janett is not happy. "Did you just cum inside me again?" She hisses from underneath him. "Jesus! If I get pregnant, the other girls will find out. My mother will find out, and i'll have to say goodbye to my chances of being a top dancer"

"Oh sorry about that" He pants, pulling out of her with a grunt. He doesn't sound the least bit sorry. "Anyway, we should probably go back now" At those words, I rush back to the other girls in the main room and get to work, nervously pulling on my ballet shoes and starting to stretch against the bar, pretending I saw nothing.

In a couple of minutes, Mr Damen and Janett come back into the room as if nothing happened. Janett goes over to her friends and Mr Damen begins the class. I try to focus on his words for the rest of the lesson but my mind keeps wandering to what I saw in that little room. The clawing, the panting. His slick, meaty cock drives in and out of the whimpering girl underneath him. I'd heard of teachers having affairs with their students before but I never thought I'd encounter it for myself.

Part way through the exercises, Mr Damen comes up to me to watch my movements. After a moment, he smiles and congratulates me. "That's very impressive my dear, you've been taught extremely well." From across the room, Janett shoots us a glance but goes back to practicing by the mirror. It soon becomes clear that she is the top dancer in the class. Her movements are as fluid as water, her steps as light as if she was treading on needles and feared cutting herself. Her facial expression was one of someone lost in another world. Enchanting but melancholy. Mr Damen watches her hungrily as she demonstrates for the other girls, before he steps out and motions for her to stop.

"See that?" He rasps, "That is what I'm looking for!" He begins to clap and the other girls slowly follow suit. Many of them are clearly jealous of her high praise. We would all like to be praised like that. Jannett dips and blushes a deep red, eyeing her teacher shyly.

That night, I lie back in my bed, draping myself across the powdery pink coloured fabric of my sheets. In my mind, I am Janett, being taken again and again by Mr Damen. When I fall asleep, she stands before me half in shadow.

Over the next couple of weeks, when Mr Damen goes off with Janett, I wait a little while before following after them like a specter, hunting them down and watching them copulate like animals. Mr Damen's lust for her seems to grow stronger and stronger and Janett seems to have no problems giving it up to him in any position imaginable. I watch quietly, sometimes for a whole hour until they decide to return to the main group. Everyone notices their absence. A few of them even seem to have guessed what they are up to as one girl imitates humping motions one afternoon as he disappears after her when she announces that she is going to the bathroom.

"God I wish I were her" huffs a short, freckled girl named Yasmina one evening as they disappear to 'work on her technique' in private.

"You want to get fucked by a big, flubbery walrus of a man who's old enough to be your father?" Kayah, a curly haired brunette asks, wrinkling up her face.

"No of course not!" Yasmina laughs nervously and begins to re-apply her god awful cherry scented lip gloss. "I just wish I had her role in the performance. I always get the sad and desperate roles like a woodland tree branch or a fucking peasent girl who gets 3 lines."

"I think he's disgusting," I say. "They both are. I'm going to go get a drink from the soda machine. Does anyone want anything?"

"Diet coke" says Kayah who has begun to stretch herself luxuriously across the bar. I nod and grab my purse, before making my way out of the room and into my favorite maze of corridors.

It isn't long before I find them this time. They are being more quiet than usual but the squeaking of some kind of old furniture gives them away. I peep through the crack in the door into a tiny room filled with stage lights and wires. Jannet is sitting on Mr Damen's lap. For a moment it looks almost innocent until you see that his hands have snuck under her shirt and she is slowly rocking back and forth. Both their eyes are closed and he is kissing her neck like a slobbering suckerfish.

My breathing hitches and I stand perfectly still, imagining myself as a pillar of stone. He's breathing words against her skin as she rides him but I can't make them out. Suddenly, her eyes flick open and I could swear that she stares straight into me. I stumble backwards, horrified that I might have been caught. My hand that had been snaking down into my underwear is wrenched out in time to brace itself against the wall behind me. I turn and walk as quickly as I can back the way I came. As I walk into the main hall, Kayah whines at me that I didn't get her drink. I might have mumbled an apology as I grabbed my bag and left out the front door but I can't remember.

When I try to sleep that night, Jannet's eyes find me. Just her eyes. Her eyes and nothing more. They grow from the soft, pink, wooden frame at the end of my bed and watch me silently as I toss and turn throughout the night, a hot, aching slickness between my thighs. In the cool quiet of the night, I sit up drenched in sweat and fumble around my dresser until my fingers fold around Mr Teddy Edinson, one of my many teddies my mother refused to let me throw out. I shove him down the bed and get onto my front and grind my damp lacy panty covered clit over his snout. He keeps sliding around and down the bed so I have to grab him in one hand and hold him still. It's not enough so I slide my underwear off and commence humping his furry snout with my bare skin. I close my eyes and let my clit slide up and down the hard plastic of his nose, focusing on the gentle but persistent squeaking of my bed frame. A delicious warmth begins to creep into my body as I grind and thrust, the entirety of my body beginning to ache with the effort of repetitive movement. At last, I reach the edge and push his face right into my swollen clit, jerking and shuddering against him, my thighs locked in place.

I pull him up, place him gently on the pillow beside me, collapsing back in a heap and falling asleep within minutes. I don't go to ballet class next week, I tell my gullible mother that I have a cold.

When I arrive at ballet classes the week after that, I notice that Janett is not there. "Sir," pipes up one of the girls, "Where is Janett today? She's the main lead in the performance!" The other girls nod and begin to mutter to each other.

"I know, I know," Mr Damen says hastily. "You see, the thing is, Janett has twisted her ankle falling down some stairs. Her mother called me last night" At those words, a hush momentarily falls across the troupe. Mr Damen massages his forehead and leans against the wall behind him.

"What do we do now?" I whisper. Mr Damen looks up at me and frowns.

"I guess we'll just have to wait for her to get better."

For the next couple of weeks, we work on our own minor rolls. I toss and turn myself against the bar, raising up on my toes before crashing back onto the soles of my feet. I have improved over the last few weeks and Mr Damen is impressed. He comes over to me one afternoon as I'm dancing and places his hand on the small of my back when I stop to take a breath. "Very good Matilda" He smiles. "Very good indeed"

"Thank you sir" I blush and look down at my feet. When I look up again, Mr Damen has an odd twinkle in his eye that makes me go weak at the knees. I've seen looks like that before but not directed at me. Janett has not made an appearance since her accident and everyone is beginning to worry.

"You have beautiful legs" Mr Damen comments as I am about to start my practice again. When he turns to walk away I see a slight bulge in his pants that is clearly noticeable.

Over the next few lessons, he becomes even more touchy with me, finding ways to press parts of his body against me. He tells me that it's a shame that Janett is not here but he will have to make do with whatever he's been given, whatever that means. Whatever's been given. With those words, he brushes a hand against the side of my breast, causing me to shiver. I close my eyes for a moment and when I open them, he's walked off to the other side of the room to help one of the other girls.

By the time the lesson is over, I am absolutely exhausted. My overwhelming desire to please Mr Damen has caused me to push myself as hard as I can. Hell, I've even been practicing outside of my lessons at home in front of my mirror. My mother lurks as she crosses back and forth outside. I decide to go to one of the quiet back rooms to relax a bit before I'm forced to go home. I'm walking down the corridors when my legs give way and I slide down to the ground. I just sit there for a moment, the effort of all this time catching up to me like a steam train to a tortoise.

After a few minutes, I hear light footsteps behind me and turn around to see Mr Damen walking towards me looking concerned. "Matlida?" He asks, "Is everything ok?". I just nod and smile weakly. I put my hands down and start trying to stand, but my legs won't cooperate.

"There, there, there" he chuckles. "Let me help you".

He picks me up gently and carries me from the room. I lean into him and close my eyes, the aching in my body throbbing with each step he takes. "I've seen you watching me and Janett." he says as we walk. My eyes fly open in panic but he soothingly strokes my hair. "There there." He chuckles. "Young women like yourself get curious. It's only natural. Anyway, you look like you need some cheering up."

He takes me into a small lounge area that we sometimes use on break time to eat a bit of food. He places me down on the couch and my head immediately lolls back against the soft fabric. "My legs hurt." I moan.

"I know little sweet, I know" He croons. "I'm going to make it all better." I gasp when he gets on his knees between my legs and suddenly stuffs his head under my short ballet skirt. I feel him breathing in my scent deeply and moaning softly. "The smell of heaven." He says huskily. He pulls his head out and grasps my underwear in his fat fingers, almost roughly tugging them down and over my legs, my feet. He groans when he sees that they are delicately pink with soft cream lace as the rim. He throws them to the side and buries his head back under my skirt and before I have the chance to object, he begins to suck on my clit. My eyes go wide and I grab his head, preparing to push it away.

As if in answer, he draws in closer, nestling himself between my thighs, licking and sucking. The room is quiet except for the sloppy sounds he's making with his mouth and I'm frozen in place. "M-Mr Damen?" I stutter weakly.

"Hmm?" He hums against my flesh before continuing. It feels surreal. I could put a stop to this right now. I could tell him that it is unacceptable to be doing these things. I should have more respect for myself. Instead, I feel a hot warmth gathering in my body and I lie back, allowing the fat, 58 year old man to suckle on my clit. I can't see his head because it's tucked under the fabric of my skirt but I can see his hairy arms and big hands holding my legs apart.

He starts to lap away at me, panting noisily like a tired pug with breathing difficulties and I feel myself nearing the edge. When I reach it, I tense up and shudder, squeezing the sides of his face between my hot thighs. He gives a big wet slurp and raises his head, smacking his fat lips. I notice that the front of his pants are straining outwards and I give a foolish little giggle. I can't believe this is happening.

Mr Damen must take this as my enthusiasm because he excitedly starts fumbling at the fly on his jeans. He manages to unzip it with shaking fingers and pulls down his underpant elastic, the thick, plump sausage that is his cock springing up in the air. I cover my mouth as I giggle again, almost delirious.

He pulls off his pants and underwear and walks over to me, his cock bobbing with his movements. As if under some strange power, I shift positions so that I'm lying on my back along the length of the couch. My eyes never leave his. He climbs on top of me. It's all happening.

I blush. His fat belly presses into me and as if being guided by some inner instinct, I spread my legs for him. He slides my top over my head and moans when he sees my small breasts spilling over my lacy pink bra. He tugs down one of the cups and attaches his hungry mouth to my nipple, swirling around it with his hot tongue, leaving a saliva trail as he makes his way to the next one. The feeling is electric, it spreads through my body, warming me from the inside out. "Good god I needed this" He pants. "You know that Janett isn't coming back. Ever. Her parents have stopped allowing her to come to classes. I don't understand why."

At this point, I'm barely even listening to the words he's saying, they wash over me in waves. All I hear is Janett and isn't coming back and I sigh contentedly and thread my fingers through what little hair is still on his head. I don't really notice when he guides his cock to my entrance, but I do notice when he thrusts it deep into me in one go. We both cry out. Him in bliss as he shudders against me, and me in shock. It's not that I've never been penetrated, I stuck some fingers up there a couple of times but this is totally different.