Dance of the Mind, Part One

Rob bent his legs out to his sides and swept his arm around in a semi-circle for a perfect plie. The coldness of the large studio was forgotten in the heat coming off his body from the morning's ballet practice. His white t-shirt was already sticking to his chest in places from the sweat and although uncomfortable, he ignored it. It was time for ballet, it was time for obedience to the ballet mistress' commands and time to ignore everything else, like the way his mind chose the word “obedience.”

“Very good, Rob,” Kayla said, smiling.

She stood in third position, hugging her body for warmth, even though with leg warmers and a dance dress over her leotard and tights she was wearing more than he was. Rob came out of the plie and back to standing in first position.

“Again,” Kayla commanded.

Rob obeyed, doing another demi-plie from first position and sweeping his arm out again. When he returned to first position, Kayla smiled.

“Very good indeed,” she said. “Pleasure.”

Rob gripped the barre tighter as a sudden wave of pleasure washed through him, but as trained he didn't move a muscle and remained in first position. He smiled. “I'm glad I'm pleasing you, Mistress,” he said.

The words felt strange coming out of his mouth, like he was reciting a line in a play. He reached down to adjust the waistband of his black tights, but stopped as he grabbed the fabric and he felt dizzy and confused. He looked up at the ballet mistress as her smile turned to concern.

“Kayla . . . Mistress . . . what?” he said.

She came to his side and clasped him around his shoulders before whispering into his ear, “It's okay . . . Shhhh. Sweet dreams baby.”

At the sound of his trigger, Rob's eyes shut and he fell into a deep, sleep-like trance. His more or less unconscious body was helped to the floor by Kayla, who cradled him in her arms for a few moments while whispering suggestions that he go deeper in his ear. She also took the opportunity to caress his smooth legs in his tights.

“Well,” she said to herself, “I guess that means it's back to daily sessions.”

An hour later Rob was practicing doing pirouettes across the center. He was only conscious of his mistress' voice and the ballet. Everything else was a soft, fuzzy warm feeling, like the feeling you get when you're sleeping in, but your body is still trying to wake up at the usual time.

“Excellent,” Kayla said. “Now it's time for you to wake up.”

---

“Are you okay? You look a little pale,” Sally said.

Rob reached out his hand to steady himself on the cubicle wall. He took a few deep breaths. “I'm fine,” he said. “Really. Just some dizzyness. I've been working out a lot more lately and I guess I haven't been eating right.”

“If you say so. We don't want to be picking up your slack again.”

Rob finished his walk to the kitchenette in his office and put a K-cup of French vanilla coffee in the brewer. He also got a candy bar from the vending machine – sugar was supposed to be good for dizzyness. He leaned against the counter, waiting for his coffee to finish brewing. He felt strangely tired and sore, despite going to bed early the previous night – well after his evening workout – but he had the dreams again and now this dizzyness from out of nowhere. Maybe he needed to see a doctor.

He felt better as he took some deep breaths and the smell of his freshly brewed coffee filed his nostrils. Sipping it with half-and-half and sugar, he sat down at his desk and looked over his list of assignments.

He had written, or rather re-written, three stories already that morning to be search engine optimized for his content mill job. It was a crappy job, but it paid the bills. The next story he had to re-write was about a new ballet studio in one of the city's gentrifying neighborhoods, two subway stops and a short walk from his apartment, he noted. The studio was housed in a renovated four-story brownstone and the owner, a woman named Sarah Smith, said she had ambitions to one day make it the home of a new ballet company. Rob knew he had never been there, but he couldn't help feeling a powerful sense of deja vu about the studio. He put the feeling aside and wrote the story.

By the time he broke for lunch Rob had put in a good spurt of productivity and was two stories ahead of where he needed to be, allowing him to be among the first out of the office for the lunch break. It was a warm, sunny day and his girlfriend, Kayla had texted him to set up a lunch-date. They met in a pocket park a couple blocks from his office, about mid-way between it and Kayla's summer job teaching dance. They hugged and kissed and sat on the little park's sole bench. The park had been a vacant lot for years before the city government put a park in in association with a non-profit. It was in a narrow block with windowless brick walls on three sides and the street on the fourth. The walls had been left bare for a while, but the non-profit had gotten permission from the building owners and some high school art classes had painted murals of the city's history. It was pleasant and beautiful and the park's foliage and location made it nice and private.

“What's wrong, honey? You don't look too good,” Kayla said.

“I don't know,” Rob replied as he took his chicken Caesar salad wrap out of the plastic. “I had those dreams again last night – where you force me to dance against my will – and I've been feeling dizzy and sore and tired, like I went to bed late or got up early and didn't eat enough to keep up my strength.”

“You're just stressed, Rob. I've told you: I think your dreams are because your worried about losing me to rehearsal and recital when the new season starts in a few months. It's making your frustrations with your job worse and so you're working out the same, but eating less because of the stress.”

He mulled it over while he chewed and swallowed. “Yeah. You're right.”

Kayla put her hands on Rob's shoulders and began to massage him. “Just relax, Rob. Just let all that stress go and relax. I'm here now. You can let yourself go with me.”

He sighed contentedly. “Yeah . . .”

“Take a deep breath in . . . and out. That's right. Breathing in relaxation, breathing out stress. In . . . and out. Let the relaxation you're breathing in flow throughout your body. Just like that, that's right.”

He felt his shoulders sag and his back muscles un-knot as he followed his girlfriend's instructions. It felt natural to follow them, to let her guide him.

“Continue relaxing deeper and deeper,” Kayla said. “It feels so nice, feels so good to go back into trance for me. Let your real self out, Rob, and have some sweet dreams.”

With the two triggers Rob felt himself go deeply down into trance and everything became clear: he was a good ballet boy for his Mistress Kayla and would always obey her without question. He was having those dreams because it was happening to him – and he loved it. He was tired because he had done his regular workout at the gym after work, but then he had gone to the studio – the one he had written about and felt deja vu for –and done ballet from 8:00 pm to midnight. Then he got up at 5:00 am for more ballet until right before he had to go to work. He was dizzy because he was eating less and exercising more, but he was pleasing Mistress by learning the ballet and keeping his old life separate from his servitude was important to her and her plans – but now he understood and could take that understanding into his subconscious and be content.

Rob awoke from a kiss to the cheek. He opened his eyes sleepily and yawned. Kayla was smiling at him. He smiled back and found that his stress and anxiety had disappeared. “Feeling better, honey?” Kayla said.

“Yeah,” he said. “I feel whole now.”

“Good. It's about time you should get back to the office.”

She kissed him again, this time on the lips, and started the walk back to her job.

---

They had practiced partnering for two hours, under the watchful instruction of Miss Sarah, one of Mistress' ballet girls. She mostly sat in the corner with the iPlayer, legs spread apart and a glazed look in her eyes she was so blissed out at watching her Mistress dance. She had changed into fresh dance clothes – royal blue leotard, pink tights and pointe shoes. Rob was also blissed out over dancing with Mistress and was glad his dance belt allowed him to keep some of his dignity as he supported Kayla through the pas de deux from “Swan Lake.” It was the one where the black swan, Odile, seduced Prince Siegfried so that the white swan, Odette, would be cursed to remain a swan forever.

They finished the dance and Sarah applauded. “That was great, Mistress,” she said smiling. “You were really on leg, you both were. Should I go back to the beginning?”

“No,” Kayla said. “We'll stop there for the night, but I think we'll reward ourselves for our hard work. I, for one haven't been able to stop thinking about my Rob in his black tights all day.”

Without a word from Kayla, the two hypnotized ballet slaves unrolled a couple floor mats and put a sheet and some pillows on them, so they would be comfortable. A few triggers from Kayla and Rob and Sarah were very aroused for their Mistress, who lay on her back in between her two ballet slaves. She felt their tights rub against hers and smiled with pleasure and arousal.

Rob surrendered himself to his Mistress' control over his body, giving into the arousal, ignoring the discomfort caused by having his erection contained by the dance belt he wore under his tights. This was about serving his Ballet Mistress, pleasuring her with his body as though he were some sort of toy, not his own pleasure or comfort. That would come from pleasing Mistress. With his legs, his black tights stretched taut over them, wrapped around her left leg, he planted a lot of kisses up and down her left side while stroking her body with his hand. Sarah, in her pink tights, mirrored his actions on their Mistress' right.

With the attentions of her two slaves, it didn't take long for Sarah to explode with an orgasm. She rested, basking in the after-glow of the pleasure and pleased to note that neither of her slaves had orgasmed themselves, in accordance with her training. “Now slaves, I want you to bring each other to orgasm and then, Sarah, you will awaken and tidy up the studio. You will take whatever steps are necessary to assure that no one discovers that you are my slave, as usual,” Kayla said.

Sarah nodded dreamily. “Yes, Mistress,” she said.

Kayla turned to Rob and caressed his face. It was greasy with sweat and he needed a shave. “As for you, my beautiful ballet boy, it's time for you to get cleaned up, but I have some special training for a special job for you: you will recruit my next slave.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Rob said. “I only want to serve and please you.”

Kayla smiled. “That's my good hypnotized ballet slaveboy.”