Thread: Brutalised Ballerina! (Jack Stalker and Malicious Lullaby)

Sitting down at her vanity table, Natalie was applying her make up slowly. She had plenty of time but she was constantly glancing at the clock. She knew when she went on for the show but thats not what she kept checking the clock for. She kept checking it because she was wondering when her director and also mentor, in a sense, was going to get there. She was becoming quite accustomed to the moments hed come see her and do unspeakably brutal and naughty things to her, things that should make it so she wouldnt be able to even dance after but somehow, she found even more inspiration and drive to dance after he pummeled her. It was twisted probably, since realistically speaking, after being fucked so hard by a twelve inch cock, she shouldnt be able to dance but there was something deeply erotic in knowing that his cum filled her tight and still wet depths while she danced the tragic strings of Swan Lake. Especially when she danced as the Black Swan, channeling her inner seductive wench. Him doing such naughty things to her really enhanced her dancing. She had trouble in the beginning. It had been easy to dance the sweet, pure and innocent White Swan. So much grace, beauty and elegance were demanded from her for that part and she had it naturally born into her. The dance and role of the Black Swan however was the complete opposite. It was supposed to be seductive, primal, completely engaging her lover away from the White Swan and to her completely. Natalie struggled immensely that it called for private dancing time with her director. He brought it out of her. He seduced her the way the Black Swan was to seduce the Prince and he succeeded. For so long since the start of production for this ballet, he had been targeting her. Natalie knew it but the role of the Swan Queen was far too important to her to mess it up by engaging in a dalliance with her director. It became difficult to resist. Nights of relentless practice and rehearsal led to a night filled with so much pleasure, so much brutal dominance that she could barely stand the next day but was reminded of a new spirit awoken inside of her. Then suddenly, the Black Swan came alive in her dancing and she knew the reason for it was her director. At first, a big part of her felt so shamed. Natalie lived her life with so much grace and virtue. She was a good girl. Her mother was so proud of her but there came a point in every young females life where she had to take control of her life and make her own choices. And if she was never roughly seduced by Henry Carter, perhaps the most delicious and insatiable man in this entire planet, her career as a dancer would have fizzled quicker than Paris Hiltons acting career. There was a knock to her door that absolutely startled her. She thought it was him but it was simply one of the dancers asking to borrow a lip liner pencil. Natalie gave it to her and then went back to her vanity, resuming putting on her face for the White Swan. Carefully, she applied the white powder to her face, watching the transformation of herself from Natalia Portia to the White Swan. Her eye make up was done impeccably, a soft and innocent look with a slight smokey eye, lush red lipstick as a stark contrast and now all that was left was the outfit. Again, as she stood to change, Natalie looked back at the clock. He still had not come and she was beginning to worry he wouldnt make it in time, thatd he even miss her performance. Still, she was wet with anticipation, thinking that any moment, hed walk right into her dressing room, lift the skirt of her tutu up and bend her over the vanity so she could watch him brutalize her. Natalie quickly dispelled the thoughts and tantalizing images as she dressed herself. Putting on the swan crown, she then sat down and tied her ballet shoes on. She stood and to adjust to the points, she moved onto high point, right on her tippy-toes. Her gaze met her reflection in the mirror and she lifted her neck, smiling proudly and confidently. But even then, he still didnt come. The show began and she danced the part of the White Swan impeccably with so much grace, elegance and beauty, like she always did, like she was practically born to do. Natalie wasnt a fanatic. She was not psychotic and she knew the difference between real life and fantasy. But sometimes, she honestly believed she was born to be a dancer but more importantly, born to dance Swan Lake. Now that she was finally doing it and dancing for one of the most prestigious dance companies in the country, that thrill never ceased. Even as she danced though, the ache deep in her belly blossomed. She thought of Henry, the things he did to her. The taste of his hard steel encased in smooth velvet, the way his cum tasted as spurt after spurt exploded into her mouth and slithered down her throat, the way he sounded, the way he lookedeverything. It clouded her brain and it was all she could think about. She danced better thinking of him and from what she could see in the large audience, he had yet to be there. Worry and doubt started to nag her but for the life of her, Natalie wouldnt give up. She danced the first interval successfully but her resolve was weakening. The desire and the need was so great, she was so used to him violating her before a show that it had become something of a drug, a desperation from her and it felt like she was going through some terrible withdrawal. Quickly, she returned to her room. Her lithe body was on fire from the dance but more from the need that was threatening to send her over. She wanted him so badly, she thought she could go so mad. Opening her door, a gasp came from her when she saw her dressing room was not empty. The flowers and all the gifts adoring fans left her escaped her notice when she saw the most handsome, tall, delicious being in front of her, speaking so casually about being late. She made it blatant as she walked in and shut the door behind her. Youre late. Her voice was soft and a surge of pleasure shot through her as he called her slut. She had to inhale deeply through her nose before exhaling softly through her mouth. She wanted him to call her more things like that because it was true. He had turned her into such a deep slut for him, she could barely function right now, it was a wonder she had danced the first interval properly at all. Pulling off the swan crown from her head, she placed it on her vanity and moved to him. She graciously accepted the glass of champagne and she took a large sip, the bubbly, sweet liquid refreshing her but also giving her courage because of the alcohol. Looking up at him, her lips parted from the glass and she licked them slowly, deliberately, as if further outlining the red plumpness of them. Most days, shed stare in the mirror in disbelief at how swollen they would still say. They felt plumper because of the intense kisses he gave her. Like he was devouring her mouth and claiming her for himself, reminding her of just who owned every inch of her. No, he was not her master, but she learned very quickly it was impossible to resist him. Especially when he made her feel like this. Her gaze drank him in from head to toe, lingering on the deliciously sizeable bulge so pronounced in his pants. When she finally met his gaze again, she could barely think, barely speak, she just wanted him to have his wicked way with her. She felt like she was dripping with need. That in order for her to dance the Black Swan remotely successfully, she needed him to awaken that part of her. Seduce her, taunt her, tease her, wrap her around his finger. Bend her, break her, give her all of him that it felt like he split her into two. You werent here earlier. You didnt make it in time. Why should I give into you? Hmm? She sipped from her champagne again, deciding to be overzealous. She felt like she was allowed to be. Especially when she knew he craved her as much as she craved him. She never tired of playing hard to get, especially when she was disappointed. She pushed her finger into his chest and looked into his eyes, staring straight and seriously into them. It is not my fault that you were late. It is not my fault that you were waiting all day to fuck me. If you wanted it so badly, you would have gotten here earlier, on time, like you always did. Stepping back, the seriousness was soon replaced with a small smirk. She sipped her champagne once more, finishing the contents of the slim flute. But yes, I did miss you.