The Ballerina
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"B" IS FOR GIRL (chapter 4: "B" Is For Ballerina) free porn video
"B" IS FOR GIRL
Chapter 4: "B" is for Ballerina
When mummy told me I was going to ballet lessons, I howled and sobbed.
"Please, mummy!" I cried. "Please don't make me do ballet dancing!"
Mummy wouldn't change her mind. "Going to ballet is part of your
punishment for being such a naughty little boy," she said.
"But mummy," I said, tears rolling down my face, "I already wear lacy
dresses and frilly knickers every day. Why do I have to do ballet and go
to Brownies as well?"
"You have to do them because I say so," said mummy. "By this time next
year, Beverly, you'll be so busy being a good little girl that you'll
have completely forgotten how to be a naughty little boy."
I stayed in my bedroom for the rest of the day, reading my "Twinkle"
comics and playing with my dolls.
At school on Monday, the boys didn't make fun of me quite so much, and
the girls left me alone. Mrs Duffield gave me another horrible cold
dinner of beefburger, scrambled eggs and chips, all smothered in tomato
ketchup as usual. I took the plate from her, and curtseyed.
"Are you looking forward to your ballet lessons, Beverly?" asked Mrs
Duffield. She said it in a very loud voice, so that all the other
children could hear. Some of them sniggered, including Nicky and Ronnie.
Now everyone at school would know I was doing ballet.
"No," I said. "I'm not looking forward to it at all. I don't want to do
stupid ballet dancing. It's soppy and sissy."
"Soppy and sissy, is it?" said Mrs Duffield. "And this from the little
boy who wears dresses and frilly knickers every day. Now, be off with you
and eat all your dinner, like a good little girl."
I took my dinner to a table and sat down by myself, wishing it was next
year and I could go back to being a little boy again. I hated wearing
girl's clothes.
On Tuesday night, at Brownies, Brown Owl - Mrs Duffield - asked to see my
knitting. I had knitted a pink square, and showed it to Brown Owl. "Very
good, Beverly," she said. "You are well on your way towards your
knitter's badge. And now that you are starting ballet lessons, you'll be
able to work for your dancer's badge as well!"
I felt very embarrassed that all the other Brownies now knew I was going
to learn ballet dancing. One of the girls, Rosemary Stirling, said that
she went to ballet lessons every Thursday. Brown Owl asked Rosemary who
her ballet teacher was, and Rosemary said it was Miss Poole. "In that
case, Rosemary," said Brown Owl, "you'll be able to look after Beverly
when she starts her lessons." Brown Owl turned to me, and said, "Miss
Poole is a very good friend of mine, Beverly. I've told her all about
you. She's very much looking forward to teaching you how to be a
ballerina!"
When I got home from school on Thursday, mummy gave me my tea and then
told me she had a surprise for me. "Run upstairs to your bedroom and take
off your school uniform, she said. "I'll be up in a minute."
I went to my room and took off my shoes and socks. Then I took off my
pinafore dress and hung it up in my wardrobe. Mummy came in, carrying a
paper carrier bag. She put the bag on the bed. "I've bought something for
you to wear at ballet, Beverly. I want you to put them on."
Mummy gave me a pair of white tights. They were very thick, but not at
all like the itchy woolly tights I had worn before. These ones were
smooth and shiny, and felt very clingy on my legs. They didn't itch in
the same way as my woolly tights did. I thought they felt quite nice.
"Clever girl!" said mummy. "You are good at putting on your own tights,
aren't you? Now, here's the best bit; a lovely ballet dress!"
Mummy held up a pink dress. The top half looked like a vest, except it
was bright pink with lacy flowers around the neck. The bottom half was a
sort of short skirt, made of layers of lace. "This is called a tutu,"
said mummy. "Come on, let's see what you look like in it!"
I wanted to tell mummy that I wouldn't wear the dress, but I knew it
would be useless to argue with her. The dress was more like a swimming
costume with a skirt stuck on. I put my feet through the leg holes and
pulled the dress up. The bit that went around my bottom and my peepipe
felt very stiff and tight.
"I've sewn a special pair of knickers into the dress, Beverly," said
mummy. "The tutu is quite short, and you don't want people seeing your
peepipe bulging out of the front. The special knickers will keep your
peepipe nice and flat."
Then mummy gave me a pair of soft pink shoes. "These are ballet flats,"
she said. "All ballerinas wear them. Put them on."
I put the ballet shoes on, and mummy tied up the pink ribbons that
fastened them around my ankles. "There!" she said. "You look so pretty!"
Mummy took me downstairs and took some photographs of me for my album. I
was very unhappy at having to dress up as a ballerina.
Then it was time to go to the class. "Put your school shoes back on,"
said mummy, "and I'll take you to ballet class in the car." I put my
ballet flats into a little pink drawstring bag which mummy had given me.
She also put some money in the bag to give to Miss Poole for my lesson.
When we got to the dance studio, some boys from school were hanging
around the entrance. Nicky and Ronnie were among them. "Look," shouted
Ronnie. "Here comes the sugar plum fairy!"
I squeezed mummy's hand. "Mummy," I said. "Please, can I go home? The
boys are laughing at me."
Mummy kept walking towards the dance studio door, pulling me along with
her. "They're only having fun with you, Beverly. Just ignore them." We
had to walk right past the boys, and I heard them chanting "Sugar plum
fairy, sugar plum fairy". I tried to take no notice, but I felt really
silly being seen dressed in my pink tutu.
There were quite a few girls in the dance studio already. One of them was
Rosemary Stirling, the girl from Brownies. "Hello, Beverly!" she said. "I
do like your tutu. You look very pretty and cute!"
Rosemary was wearing a black swimming costume sort of thing, and white
tights. "Why aren't you wearing a tutu as well?" I asked her.
"Oh, you don't have to wear them for lessons," said Rosemary. "None of
the girls do. We just wear these leotards. Tutus are usually just worn
for the shows."
I looked around the big room. One wall was covered with an enormous
mirror, and I could see myself in my tutu and white tights. There were
about fifteen girls altogether, chattering and giggling. They were all
wearing leotards and tights, like Rosemary. Some of the girls were also
wearing thick woolly socks, but none had a tutu on. I looked at my mummy.
"Mummy," I said, "I'm the only girl wearing a tutu. I feel silly!" I felt
so embarrassed at wearing the tutu that I didn't even realise I had just
called myself a girl.
"You look very pretty, Beverly," said mummy, "and you will wear your tutu
every week. Now, I'm going to have a quick word with Miss Poole. Put your
ballet flats on, and I'll see you later at the end of the lesson to take
you home. Have a lovely time, and be a good girl for mummy!"
Miss Poole was a tall thin lady. She was wearing a purple leotard and
black tights, and her hair was tied in a ponytail. Mummy spoke to Miss
Poole for a few minutes, and then left. Miss Poole looked at me for a
moment and then walked to the middle of the room and clapped her hands
three times.
"Girls!" she shouted. All the girls stopped chattering. "Girls. We have a
new dancer here tonight." She looked at me. "Introduce yourself,
sweetheart."
"My name," I said, "is Beverly Bassenthwaite. I'm--"
"Please, Miss Poole!" called out Rosemary Stirling. "Beverly is really a
boy! She goes to the same Brownies as me! His mummy makes her wear
dresses and frilly knickers because he's so naughty" All the other girls
looked at me, and began to giggle. I felt even sillier than ever.
"Thank you, Rosemary," said Miss Poole. "Yes, girls, Rosemary is quite
right. Beverly is really a boy. His real name is Barry, but because he
used to be such a naughty little boy his mummy has made him into a girl.
Doesn't Beverly look cute in her little pink tutu and white tights, with
her lovely ginger hair done up in white ribbons?"
All the girls looked at me and giggled. "Yes, Miss Poole!" they all said
together.
"Now, girls," Miss Poole went on," as this is the first lesson after the
summer holidays, and it's Beverly's first lesson ever, let's do some
warm-ups and then recap the five positions."
Miss Poole made us run on the spot for a minute, and then we had to
stretch our legs, first one and then the other. Then we had to practice
ballet poses. Miss Poole kept moving my arms and legs into different
positions to make sure I was getting each one right. I watched myself
doing all the moves in the big mirror on the wall, and felt more and more
embarrassed.
"Very good, Beverly," said Miss Poole. "I'm impressed. You're picking it
up very quickly. You've got a natural talent for dance. I can see you're
going to make a wonderful ballerina."
"NO!" I shouted, crossly, stamping my foot. "I'm NOT going to be a
ballerina! Ballet is a soppy, sissy thing to do, and I'm not a sissy!"
"Dear me!" said Miss Poole. "What a temper you've got! My friend, Mrs
Duffield, says that your mummy has decided to punish you by making you
dress up as a little girl for a whole year. Is that right?"
"Yes."
"Well then, Beverly, you must show your mummy that you can be a very good
little girl. That means doing all the girly things that mummy tells you
to do, no matter what they are. If you can do that for a whole year, then
you'll be able to go back to being a boy again. You want to go back to
being a boy, don't you?"
"Yes, Miss Poole," I said.
"All right, then," she said. "Let's carry on with the lesson, shall we?"
Miss Poole told everyone to stand in a line in the middle of the room,
facing the mirrored wall. I was in the middle of the line. "Girls, pay
attention!" she said. "We're going to make a start on one of the dances
we'll be doing in this year's pantomime. For this dance you will all be
forest animals."
All the girls started to giggle. "Please, Miss Poole!" said one. "Will
Beverly be in the pantomime as well?"
"Oh, yes," replied Miss Poole. "She most certainly will!"
Every year there was a pantomime at the community centre. It wasn't a big
pantomime, with anyone famous in it. They were done by a local club which
put on a musical every June and a pantomime every January. If I was going
to be in the pantomime, it meant that I would be seen by hundreds of
people, and lots of them would be children from my school. I knew that I
would be very embarrassed when the time came to dance in the pantomime,
because I was certain to be wearing a sissy, girly costume.
Mummy had taken me to see last year's pantomime, which was called
Cinderella. I laughed when the wicked stepmother and the ugly sisters
were on. Mummy told me they were really men. I thought the bits with
Cinderella and the prince was boring and soppy, though, but I thought it
was funny that the prince was played by a girl.
Miss Poole told us to hold hands in a line. Then she showed us how to
dance in little skips along the floor, first to the left, and then to the
right. We had to practice this a few times in front of the big mirror.
"Don't look down at your feet!" Miss Poole called. "Watch yourselves in
the mirror instead. Graceful steps! Remember, you are all beautiful
fairies!"
I watched myself in the mirror, skipping along sideways with the other
girls. Miss Poole showed us a few more steps. The dance was quite easy,
really, and I began to enjoy it a little bit.
"Very good, Beverly!" called Miss Poole. "You are catching on quickly! I
think you will do very well in the pantomime. Perhaps I might even let
you be the forest fairy princess!"
All the other girls laughed and clapped at this. "Oh, yes!" Rosemary
said. "Beverly will make a lovely fairy princess, Miss Poole! She will be
able to wear a pretty dress and wings and carry a fairy wand!"
"SHUT UP!" I shouted. "I don't want to be in a stupid pantomime! I don't
want to wear stupid dresses! I don't want to do stupid ballet dancing!
And I don't want to be a STUPID GIRL!"
All the girls stopped laughing and stared at me. Miss Poole looked very
cross. "Beverly!" she said, "That's quite enough of that! I will not have
you shouting and screaming in my class. Go and stand in the corridor
until you are ready to behave yourself like a good little girl."
I stomped out of the dance room and into the corridor. I knew that Miss
Poole would tell mummy that I had been naughty, and I felt very sad. If I
didn't learn to be a good girl, mummy would never let me be a boy again.
I would have to keep wearing dresses and frilly knickers for the rest of
my life.
After a few minutes I opened the door to the dance studio again, and
stepped inside. Miss Poole saw me coming in. "Miss Poole?" I said. "I...
I'm sorry that I shouted and screamed. I will be a good little girl from
now on, I promise."
"I'm very glad to hear it," said Miss Poole. "And will you pay attention,
and do what you are told in class?"
"Yes," I said. "I will. I'll learn all the steps and the positions and
try to be the best ballerina I can be. And I'll be the fairy princess in
the pantomime as well, if you still want me to."
Miss Poole smiled. "Yes," she said. "I think you will make a beautiful
little fairy princess. All the boys in the audience will love you. Now,
go back into the line and take first position."
I went back to the rest of the girls and stood in first position, as Miss
Poole had taught me earlier. She showed us more steps for what she called
a "number", and we danced and skipped around the room. I watched myself
in the big mirror all of the time, and I thought that I was doing just as
well as any of the other girls.
When it was nearly time for the lesson to end, the door opened and some
mummies came in. My mummy was with them. She was talking to another lady
with blonde hair which was piled up on her head like a beehive. All the
mummies stood next to the wall at the far end of the studio. Some had
children with them, and among them were boys and girls from my school.
"All right, girls!" Miss Poole said to us. "It's almost hometime. Let's
show your mummies and your brothers and sisters what we've been learning
this evening, shall we? Take your positions for the Forest Animals
number, quickly!"
We all had to perform our little dance all over again for our mummies,
with Miss Poole reminding some of the girls what to do next when they
forgot their steps. I didn't forget any of my steps, but I felt very
foolish having to dance ballet while being watched by other children from
school. It was made even worse because I was the only girl wearing a
tutu. All the mummies were smiling, and I could hear the children
sniggering at me, but I kept dancing.
At the end of the little dance, all the mummies clapped their hands and
cheered. My mummy came over to me with my bright yellow anorak. "Well
done," she said. "Put this on, Beverly. It's raining."
The blonde haired woman came to stand beside mummy. "It's raining very
hard," she said to me. "I'm sure you don't want to get your lovely little
pink tutu all wet, now do you?"
I put my anorak on, shaking my head. "Beverly," said my mummy. "This lady
is a friend of Miss Poole's. Her name is Mrs Wilsthorpe. Say hello, like
a good little girl."
"Hello, Mrs Wilsthorpe," I said.
"Hello, Beverly," Mrs Wilsthorpe said. "I must say, my darling girl, I
was very impressed with your dancing just now. I could hardly believe
this was just your first lesson."
Miss Poole came along at that moment. "Yes," she said. "Our Beverly is a
natural little dancer. Excellent poise. She could be another Margot
Fonteyn when she grows up! Couldn't you, Beverly?"
"Yes, Miss Poole," I said. I didn't want to grow up to be a lady, but I
knew that mummy would be cross with me if I argued now.
"Isn't she terribly sweet?" said Mrs Wilsthorpe. "I'm sure she'll do just
as well in my classes, Yvonne."
"I hope so," mummy replied. "Thank you for taking her on, Mrs
Wilsthorpe."
"Not at all," the woman said. "I do hope you'll be dressing her up in
something pretty for me, too!" Turning to me, she said, "I'll see you
next Wednesday night, Beverly. Bye for now!"
Mummy said goodnight to the lady, and then spoke to Miss Poole for a few
minutes. Miss Poole told mummy that I had been a good girl, apart from a
little tantrum. "But we soon sorted that out, didn't we, Beverly?" said
Miss Poole.
"Yes, Miss Poole," I said.
"Beverly has made a very good start at being a ballerina," Miss Poole
said to mummy. "I hope Mrs Wilsthorpe isn't going to steal her away from
me!"
"Oh, no!" said mummy. "There's no danger of that, Miss Poole. Beverly
will still be coming to ballet for the whole year, don't you worry. Come
along, Beverly, time to go home."
When we got outside, Mummy and I ran to the car in the rain. "Mummy," I
said, as we drove back home. "What did that lady mean about seeing me
next Wednesday night? And what did Miss Poole mean about her stealing me
away?"
"Miss Poole doesn't want to lose you from her ballet class, silly!" said
mummy. "But I've assured her that you'll still be going to ballet as well
as ballroom."
"Ballroom?" I said. "What's that?"
"You'll find out next Wednesday," said mummy, with a grin.
Dottie
- 17.04.2021
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