Chapter 13.   Backstage at the Ballet

One day I received an engraved invitation at our agency's office.  It 
indicated that I was invited, as a "World Class Patron" of the National 
Ballet Company of Capitallia, to a special ballet event for patrons only.  It 
was to be an "Un-Dress Rehearsal" of the company's upcoming 
performance of "La Fille Mal Gardee" (The Girl Who Is Not Well 
Guarded).  Well of course I knew what a "dress rehearsal" was but I had 
never heard of an undress rehearsal, so I read on.  It seemed that during 
this very special rehearsal, open to patrons, that all the dancers would 
dance naked.  This was in part to condition the dancers to performing 
nude since the company was working on another ballet where they would 
actually perform naked before the general public.  It was also intended as 
a special treat for patrons to show the company's appreciation for our 
financial support.

It was an evening rehearsal.  On the day of the event I arrived an hour 
early, as I wanted to go backstage and meet some of the dancers.  At the 
stage door Zeke, the doorman, recognized me immediately.

"Good evening, Mr. Steelforth!" he exclaimed as he waived me past the 
stage door checkpoint.  "If you came to see the dancers I can tell you 
most of them are up in the second floor rehearsal room doing their warm-
ups."

As I entered I heard the cacophony of excited voices and other sounds 
one can always hear backstage at any theater before a performance.  I 
also smelled the familiar aroma of greasepaint from the nearby makeup 
room where some of the dancers were getting their faces done.  I 
wondered if they would apply some sort of greasepaint to their whole 
bodies since they would be performing nude.  I passed the open rear door 
to the stage and saw briefly that scenery was being moved into position 
and a couple of technicians were checking out the focus on lighting 
instruments.  I could see the full depth of the stage from the rear and 
beyond that into the lighted empty auditorium, as neither the Act Curtain 
nor the fire curtain was down as yet.

I headed up the stairs to the second floor rehearsal room.  Most of the 
dancers were here as Zeke had said.  They were not naked but attired in 
the leotards and tights they would normally wear for classes and 
rehearsals.  The room was setup like dance studios everywhere – 
mirrored walls and the inevitable barre running most of the way around 
the room.  The barre resembled a handrail attached to the mirrored walls 
and was set at a height that dancers could use it as both a hand rest and 
a leg rest in their warm up exercises.  As I moved about the room dancers 
would greet me warmly.

"Mr. Steelforth" they would say "we are so glad you could make it to this 
special performance!  We appreciate so much your generous support for 
our company!"

Many of these dancers knew me well from earlier visits I had made to 
their rehearsals.  Those who had not met me personally before had 
evidently been briefed about my support for the company.  They all 
regarded me as their sugar daddy.

I looked for Vivian Morentzy – the accomplished young lead dancer slave 
I had rescued from degrading pole dance work in a bar six months earlier.  
She was nowhere to be seen.  Since she would be playing the lead in 
today's rehearsal I assumed she had a private dressing room and was 
preparing there.

I did see one naked dancer at the other end of the room and recognized 
her right away as Jennifer Marston, the slave I had seen unconsciously 
masturbating at the SlendaBond training facility in the cylinder room.  I 
walked right up to her, introduced myself and began fondling her breasts 
and nipples.  Jennifer seemed to regard it as purely routine that I should 
do this. She was well trained.  The Artistic Director of the company had 
told me that I might do this with any of the enslaved dancers.

I stood and watched Jennifer and the others go through their warm up 
routines.  They were so elegant as they assumed all the classical ballet 
positions.  Although Jennifer was otherwise naked, she did have on her 
toe shoes and leg warmers and was standing in fourth position 'en 
pointe'.  As she raised first one leg and then the other to the barre, I could 
not help myself from caressing her long slender legs and buttocks.  I 
asked her if this was her full time job now.  She replied that this was her 
second job and that her day job was at Masterson Automotive as a 
psychological consultant.

"Oh, then perhaps you know Stephanie Glenn?"  I asked.

"Yes indeed.  Steph and I work on the same project team at Masterson 
and she also works here at the theater evenings.  The lighting designer 
needed an all around assistant and gopher so he arranged with 
Masterson for her to work here evenings.  You can probably find her 
somewhere backstage now if you wanted to talk to her."

I decided to check out what was going on down on the stage and perhaps 
look for Stephanie.  I had only a short while before the performance.  As I 
was coming back down the stairs from the second floor rehearsal room I 
ran into the choreographer of today's performance.  He seemed to know 
who I was and introduced himself as Leonard Morrison.  We shook 
hands.

"I have been quite curious, Mr. Morrison, about one thing.  What is it like 
to work with enslaved dancers?  How is that different than working with 
your free dancers?"

"There are a number of interesting differences" he replied.  "For one thing 
we can keep an enslaved dancer in a state of sexual tension most of the 
time.  We find this most advantageous when dealing with the female 
dancers.  The sexual tension seems to add an extra dimension to their 
performances.  Then too, we can also use sexual relief as a kind of 
reward for a job well done.  With our male dancers we find it 
advantageous to almost always give them sexual relief just before a 
performance."

"What about corporal punishment?"  I asked.

"We can do that too within certain limits prescribed by law.  Generally if I 
am very disappointed in a dancer and feel he or she is not performing up 
to the level I require I can use the quirt I carry at all times to administer a 
sharp reprimand to the naked buttocks of an enslaved dancer.  Naturally 
we cannot do this with our free dancers."

"Another thing would be the freedom I have to position a slave dancer the 
way I want her to stand.  I can put my hands on any part of her body to 
guide her into the exact position I seek.  With the free dancers I have to 
spend a lot of time talking them into the position I want."

"Thank you Mr. Morrison.  I know you have much on your mind and won't 
take up any more of your time."

As I entered the door to the back of the stage a red light was blinking and 
a technician shouted a heads up warning.   I heard the purr of electric 
motors and looked above me.   I could see that the huge wrap around 
cyclorama, or 'cyc' as it was known, was being gradually lowered from 
way above stage level down to ground level position.  This would form the 
sky backdrop for most scenes.  As soon as it touched the stage floor I 
made my way around the far end of it toward stage right.  From here I 
could see that the fire curtain was down and could hear a murmur of 
audience voices on the other side.    Evidently they had opened the 
house while I had been upstairs.  It was apparent that a rather elaborate 
set had also been rolled into position.  

Just then I saw a strange sight.  All of the hundreds of lighting instruments 
overhead were being tested in some pattern or sequence.  Sharply 
defined beams of light punched through the darkness to illuminate every 
point on the stage from every possible overhead position or angle.  Even 
as I watched I could see that many of these instruments were being re-
directed or refocused or having their tints changed – all by some form of 
remote control.  I looked around and could not see anyone doing this.  
Things had certainly changed since I took a technical theater course in 
college.  Back in the day lighting instruments were bulky and hot and 
adjusting them meant someone having to climb a tall ladder.  I asked the 
technician about this and also where I might find Stephanie Glenn.  He 
said that Frank Matters, the lighting designer was doing all this pre-
rehearsal checkout of the lights from his studio office and that Stephanie, 
his assistant, was with him.  He pointed me toward a door in one rear 
corner of the stage.

I found myself in an office with an elaborate miniature mockup of the real 
set and hundreds of extremely tiny lighting instruments that seemed to 
echo all the real lighting instruments out on the stage.  There was Frank 
Matters at his desk at a lighting control console and a very naked 
Stephanie next to him taking notes.  One of his hands was resting 
affectionately on her naked thigh.

"Ah, Mr. Steelforth!"  He spun around in his chair when he heard me 
enter.  Stephanie looked startled and amazed to see me here of all 
places.   "It is a pleasure to finally meet you.  We have heard so much 
about your generous contributions that have kept this company afloat.  If 
there is anything we can do to make your visit more pleasurable, just 
name it!"

"Actually I had been wanting to say hello to Stephanie since I had a little 
time before curtain and she and I go back a ways, don't we Miss Glenn?"

"Yes, Mr. Steelforth, we certainly do!" she said.  I could see her face 
starting to flush and noted increased muscular tension in her neck and 
shoulders.

"I understand you are Frank's assistant now, Stephanie.  How did that 
come about?  I thought accounting was your field?"

"Jennifer Marsden and I work together" Stephanie replied.  "We work 
days over at Masterson Automotive.  One night she persuaded me to 
come watch one of her evening rehearsals and my master agreed.  Mr. 
Matters had been looking for a lighting operator and gopher and decided 
he would like to have me.  So he called Masterson and they agreed to 
send me over here every evening to assist him in any way that he might 
desire."

"So what do you do here exactly?"  I asked.

"Stephanie is my lighting operator." Frank quickly interjected.  "She sits at 
a control console on an elevated open platform just inside the back wall of 
the auditorium.  From there she can see everything."

"Does she work naked in full view of the audience?"

"No.  I decided that might be too distracting.  So I usually issue her a 
cutoff t-shirt and a pair of short shorts when she is working in the 
auditorium.  When she is back here with me I like to keep her naked."

"Frank, I had a little exposure to lighting when I was in college.  Just 
enough to be dangerous.  We learned about lighting for plays.  Would you 
say that lighting for dance is different?"

"Very much so" he replied.  "With dance performances we are concerned 
with what we call 'plasticity'.  That means we must use light to bring out 
the three dimensional qualities of each dancer's body, so that the 
audience can experience each dancer as a kind of living sculpture.  Now 
that we are starting to have naked performances we have even more of a 
challenge.  The patrons now want to see every detail clearly, the line of a 
leg, the voluptuousness of a bared buttock or breast, the form of muscles, 
tendons, bone structures.  They even want to see clearly the details of 
each dancer's genitalia.  With the technology we have today we can use 
computer software to insure that lighting accents move around to follow 
the dancers, and that the most interesting parts are always accented, no 
matter what position or pose the dancer strikes."

"Amazing.  I had no idea." I said.  

"There is another thing a lighting designer has to worry about now that we 
have naked dancers.  Theaters tend to be drafty.  It is now part of my job 
to see that infrared lighting on stage warms each dancer to the desired 
degree, but none of them so much as to cause unnecessary sweating."

"I certainly am looking forward to this evening's performance."

"Stephanie and I have just finished our pre-rehearsal run-through of all 
the cues." Matters said.  "I have to go upstairs and speak with the 
choreographer, so you two can have a few minutes privacy if you like."  
So saying he was out the door.

"How are you doing, Stephanie?"

"I am finding slavery hard, sir!"  I saw a tear start to form in the corner of 
one of her eyes.

I was sure she had mixed feelings about me.  On the one hand I had 
been instrumental in getting her enslaved.  On the other hand I had also 
been kind to her in taking care that all her personal possessions were 
kept safely and not auctioned off.

"It was never meant to be a vacation" I replied.  "It is society's way of 
making sure you pay off your debts and your creditors are justly 
compensated."

"But what if a person is unjustly enslaved – for debts they did not even 
owe?"

"Are you saying that was your situation, Stephanie?  Why should I believe 
you, girl?  And why are you making an appeal such as this to the very 
man who did the most to enslave you?"

"Because you are a fair man.  Everyone says so.  And you could satisfy 
yourself as to the facts because you have all my receipts and business 
records in your possession."

Stephanie was down on her knees before me now, with a pleading look in 
her eyes.

"That is true.  I do have all those records.  But if all the debts mentioned in 
court were not really yours why didn't your defense lawyer challenge 
them?"

"I don't know, Mr. Steelforth.  He is a public defender and maybe he just 
had too many cases to devote that much time to my case.  Besides that 
he had no way of knowing what I know now – that my old boss, Tom 
Jenkins, wanted to fuck me so bad that he contrived a case against me, 
even falsifying documents, until he gained complete control of me!"

"Has he actually fucked you?"

"If you m-must k-know, yes!"  Her face was red now.

"Under normal circumstances I would say he had every right to fuck you if 
you are his slave.  But if he set about bringing a false enslavement case 
against you for the sole purpose of fucking you later, he may have 
committed a felony!"

"And if it was a felony" Stephanie continued "then surely there must be 
some way it can be undone!  There must be some way I could be set 
free!"

"You should contact your lawyer to see if that is possible."

"But as a slave I don't even have the right to call him or write to him.  Will 
you help me Mr. Steelforth?  Will you check my business records that you 
have in your possession and then talk to my defense attorney, Mr. 
Green?"

She was still on her knees looking up at me with pleading eyes.  I felt 
something for her but was reluctant to let her see that she had made any 
progress with me.

"I can't promise you anything Stephanie.  But it is possible I will look into it 
if I have the time."  I gave her a gentle pat on the head as one might pat a 
child and bade her rise.

At this point I realized there were but twenty minutes to curtain and I 
wanted to look in on Vivienne, one of the two principal dancers in this 
evening's performance.  I said good-bye to a tearful Stephanie and made 
my way to the dressing room corridor.  When I found Vivienne's dressing 
room I knocked and was admitted.  She was naked but for her pointe 
shoes and putting on all over body makeup to look her best under stage 
lights.  She greeted me warmly, no doubt because of the role I had played 
in getting her back with the ballet company after her enslavement.  

"Mr. Steelforth, I am so pleased to see you!  You saved my career when 
you interceded for me with my owner!  Is there anything, anything at all, 
that I can do to show my gratitude?"

"Well I know you are very busy now getting ready for the show.  I expect 
that your performance tonight will excite me sexually, so I will ask that you 
remain in your dressing room after the performance until I come for you.  I 
will want to discharge my excitement in your person!"  I said with a wry 
smile.

"Certainly, Mr. Steelforth.  I will wait for you!"

"That is all I wanted to say just now.  I know you have much to do and I 
need to find my seat in the house."  So saying, I bid good-bye and left 
her.

As I entered the auditorium from the front of house I saw the raised 
platform Frank had described to me.  Stephanie, in the scanty attire Frank 
permitted her, had taken up her position there behind the lighting control 
console.  She was clearly on view to all audience members as they filed 
in.  This must have been very embarrassing for her the first time they 
made her work like this but I sensed she had gotten acclimated to it.

I took my seat in the third row center on the main floor.  A more distant 
seat, or even a first row balcony seat would have given me a better view 
of the big picture and a sense of the depth of the staging.  But I liked this 
close seating location because I liked to study the details of dancer's 
bodies at close range.  For me this was, in no small part, a sexual thing.  
Particularly when I knew I could look forward to fucking the principal 
ballerina after the performance.  Vivienne was well trained in the classical 
dance since she was 8 years old, but reduced to pole dancing after her 
enslavement.  At her request I had interceded with her owner and 
persuaded him that she should be restored to the art form for which she 
had so long trained.  Vivienne would be playing the lead role of Lise in 
this production.

As I read the program notes I learned that the title "La Fille Mal Garde" 
means "the girl who is not well guarded". ** It is the story of a 16-year-old 
girl with very protective parents and a male suitor who is very resourceful 
in overcoming obstacles.  The ballet, written originally by Jean Dauberval, 
dates from the time of the French Revolution, having been first performed 
in 1789 in Bordeaux.  It is considered to be one of the happiest and 
sunniest of ballets.  It is romantic yet realistic, both touching and amusing.  

As the house lights dimmed, and the jumble of voices in the auditorium 
became hushed, I thought of the pleasure I would have penetrating the 
principal ballerina right after the show.  Her exquisite grace and beauty 
would be all mine to enjoy.  My penis began to harden at the thought.

The curtain went up on an elaborate set.  It was wonderful to see a whole 
stage full of naked dancers moving to classical music.  For me this wasn't 
just about looking at cunts, though there certainly were some magnificent 
cuntscapes to be enjoyed each time a female dancer would lift one leg 
high or do a pirouette.  I enjoyed this to be sure but there were other 
delights as well.   What I enjoyed fully as much was just the unbroken 
lines of all these slender bodies, the long elegant legs with definition of 
bone and muscle not obscured by tights and firm well-muscled buttocks 
that could be examined with no intervening leotards to dampen one's 
pleasure.  Then too there were all the lovely breasts on display with, in 
many cases, erect nipples.

I had wondered before the show started what it would be like for all the 
naked male dancers.  I had visions of each male dancer looking ridiculous 
with his penis flopping all about every time he moved.  Surprisingly this 
did not happen.  I had to infer that something had been done to "stabilize" 
each penis so that it moved very little.   Whatever had been done in no 
way interfered with the ability of audience members to clearly see what at 
least some of them would want to see in detail.  I would have to ask 
Vivienne about this after the show.

Ballerinas taping their breasts had long solved the problem of distracting 
movement, for female dancers.  Since that wouldn't work with nudity, 
using only dancers with relatively small breasts now solved the problem.

One of the highlights of the production was the Grand pas de deux where 
Lise dances with her suitor.  This production was probably unique in its 
use of a naked couple to perform this playful and flirtatious dance.  The 
choreographer had gone even further than that by having the male 
dancer erect through this dance, and the female with her breasts flushed 
and nipples erect.  I had seen other productions of this ballet but Vivienne 
as Lise exhibited the swift intricate footwork as exquisitely as I have ever 
seen it – such neat pointes, such beautifully phrased sequences, such 
light jumps.  I thought I had died and gone to heaven to think I would soon 
be fucking this exquisite creature.  Vivienne, after all, was an enslaved 
dancer, and I had full permission from her owner to enjoy her to the 
fullest.

At the conclusion there were many curtain calls and shouts of "Bravo" and 
"Brava!"  The audience was on its feet.  Eventually the calls were over 
and the house lights were coming up.  I made my way backstage by way 
of the "green room".  I had to pass security to get backstage but I was 
well known and there was no problem.

I let myself into Vivienne's dressing room with the master key I had been 
provided.  She was still quite naked from her performance, still had on her 
stage makeup and her pointe shoes, and was somewhat breathless from 
her exertions and the excitement of the curtain calls.  Fortunately star 
dressing rooms each came with a cot.  I locked the door and wordlessly 
pulled her down on that cot, and soon was inside her.  She wrapped 
those long slender legs around mine and bucked with all the energy and 
grace of a ballerina and seemed to be trying to draw my penis in.  Soon I 
exploded in my delight of what had been my best evening in recent 
memory.


** Readers not familiar with ballet or this particular ballet may find short 
video excerpts of this ballet on YouTube.

Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
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Note:  If you are enjoying this story author would appreciate feedback to 
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