Tutus and Treachery

She racks her brains, but there's only one place she can think of -- a little pizza place in the outskirts. She's had takeouts from there quite a few times, but there's a dine-in option as well. She's never seen anyone from the school in there -- and it's convenient for the bus back home.

She types a reply and sends her suggestion.

"Sounds great!" Matteo replies.

There's one more thing she needs to say.

"Do you mind if we make this low-key?" she asks. "Just keep this between ourselves for the moment?"

She holds her breath as he types his response.

"Of course," he writes. "I promise I won't tell anyone."

There's a pause and then the next line of text flashes up on her phone.

"I'm really looking forward to it. Thanks for asking me."

He finishes with a smiley emoji.

Elsa breathes a sigh of relief and leans back against the toilet cistern. She's done as much as she can. Tomorrow's going to be super awkward, but she can't back out. She just hopes he'll keep his word.

--

"Frau von Tanzenhohe seemed pleased," Matteo ventures.

He and Elsa are in the restaurant and have just placed their order.

"Yes, she was," his date replies thoughtfully, taking a sip of lemonade. "I wasn't expecting her back today, but I'm pleased she was."

The ballet mistress returned that morning, determined to make up for her two days lost. She dragged Matteo and Elsa out of their usual commitments to work up the sequence that they'd practiced at the weekend. After two hours she declared herself satisfied and sent the two of them off for lunch. Forty minutes later, they were back in the ballroom with the mice, toy soldiers and Nils to run the whole of the Battle Scene through several times.

"I thought your fighting with Nils was good," Elsa continues. "Much more exciting than the way we usually do it."

"Thanks," Matteo replies. "Nils was a bit wary of doing it with the swords, but I think he's more relaxed about it now."

Elsa smiles. From her position in the cage towards the side of the stage, she has a perfect view of the combat. It's a powerful, aggressive choreography -- a real fight to the death -- and the two dancers bring out the best in each other. And of course, the right boy always wins!

"I'm looking forward to seeing you do it in full costume," she says with a laugh. "You look a bit funny with your Mouse King head, your tail and your school kit on!"

Matteo chuckles back. Of course, the real reason Elsa's looking forward to the dress rehearsals is to see Nils dance in his red tunic and white tights. He really is a sight for sore eyes!

"And you hit me every time with your slipper," he teases.

"No don't say that! I'm sure I'll miss at least once in the performances!"

The waiter approaches carrying two giant pizzas and sets them down on the table.

"Is your dad coming to the final performance?" asks Elsa as they tuck in.

"No. My grandparents want to watch me dance, but they're not very good with late nights," he explains. "So they're gonna come for the one in the early afternoon and then my Dad's gonna drive them home."

"All the way back to Italy?"

Matteo nods.

"That's a big drive. How long will that take?" she asks.

"It'll be about four hours," he answers. "It's a long way. But they're too old to travel on their own on the train."

He doesn't say it, but he's always worried that they may not have many more chances to see him dance.

There's a pause in the conversation as they focus on their food. They're both ravenously hungry. It's been an exhausting day, especially for Matteo. Lifting both Elsa and Nils above his head multiple times has really taken it out of him. His arms are still aching.

Elsa seemed a little nervous as they left the castle together after rehearsals. But he did everything she wanted, everything's low key. He feels she's beginning to relax a little.

They talk a little about the tapings for the Prix de Lucerne. Underneath he knows she's pessimistic, but she talks herself up a little and he encourages her. He's quietly confident about getting through the finals, but knows to downplay his chances. Nils has spent the day strutting around telling everyone how he's bound to be in Switzerland in March and how he didn't need Frau von Tanzenhohe's help. But Matteo knows it's best to keep quiet and wait it out -- overconfidence is not his style.

"How's the Russian dance coming along?" she asks.

That's the dance Matteo's doing in Act II with the 11th grade boys.

"I think it's good," he says. "It's such a great melody to dance to -- and it's always one that the audience remembers. And it's good to be in an ensemble piece as well."

"It's just a shame it's so short," Elsa smiles.

"I think I'm pretty lucky," he replies. "To have joined a production so late and to be given good roles in both acts -- I couldn't have expected anything more. And I get to dance with you."

He shoots her a killer smile.

"I like dancing with you," Elsa says. "I always feel very secure when you're partnering me. Even when you're lifting me, I can just focus on my movements and not worry about what you're doing."

She realizes to her horror that she's blushing a little.

"Nils rushes you," Matteo says, a little more boldly. "He pushes you to your balance point. He doesn't let you reach it yourself and then support you."

In an instant he realizes he's made a mistake. Her smile is gone and she looks down abruptly at her plate. Criticizing Nils is a big no-no.

It's not nice to hear criticism of someone you love, particular if it's from a newcomer who's known you less than two weeks. Elsa a feels hurt, wounded even. And those feelings of guilt are back. She shouldn't be here with Matteo. She's completely betrayed Nils.

But underneath it all, no matter how much she denies it, she knows that he has a point. And dancing with someone new has shown her that -- he didn't need to tell her. She's conflicted, agitated and a little queasy. She pushes her knife and fork together, leaving a quarter of her pizza uneaten.

The evening is over.

--

There's no work-life balance if you're a ballerina. Particularly if you have a starring role. And once Nutcracker season hits, it really takes over your life. You eat, sleep, drink the music of Tchaikovsky. From the moment you wake to the moment you collapse exhausted on your bed, it swirls around you, flooding your world with a rhythms and melodies that your body cannot resist.

As late November turns to early December and opening night races towards the young dancers, Elsa finds herself spending all her time at the theater. Apart from the odd costume adjustment, there's no reason to be up at the school. All day, every day, she's dancing on the grand stage, bringing Clara's character to life in way she never could in the castle ballroom. Of course, Frau von Tanzenhohe is there to work her hard, providing copious notes after every rehearsal. It would be all too easy to feel dispirited and discouraged under her teacher's critical eye, but the adrenaline and anticipation drive her forwards.

She hasn't been actively avoiding Matteo, it's just worked out that way. Her mum's been giving her a lift to the theater most mornings, which means she doesn't see him on the bus very often. In the actual ballet, he's only on stage for about ten minutes, which means he's spending most of his time up at the school. But somehow Elsa can't shut him out of her mind completely. As she lies in her bed at night, as the music swirls around her brain, she thinks of him. She wonders how he feels about her. Is he confused? Is he angry? Has he forgotten all about her?

Being down at the theater has other advantages, especially with Nils being there so much. There are plenty of dark corners, nooks and crannies to snatch a quick kiss or more with her leading man. It didn't take long for them to work out that the lighting box is left unlocked and empty over lunch. As soon as Frau von Tanzenhohe is gone, the two of them race to the back of the auditorium. The corner they've chosen is hidden from the door. Nils stands with his back against the wall as Elsa sinks to her knees between the untidy piles of dusty cables. There in the darkness she sucks him off, before he spins her round, clamps his hand over her mouth and fingers her to orgasm.

There's only one hiccup and that's the news from Switzerland. The judges' decision is final -- Nils, Kerstin and Elsa haven't got through to the finals of the Prix de Lucerne. For Elsa, the news is hardly unexpected -- the competition on the girls' side is so intense, she never really held out much hope. But for Nils, the setback hits him hard. Of course, Elsa makes sure that she cheers him up whenever she can. And by the time the curtain rises on opening night, the disappointment is long forgotten.

The reviews are in for the first performances and they're overwhelmingly positive. "Another Cracker from Von Tanzenhohe!" shouts the local newspaper. Elsa's photograph has pride of place on the front page and the critics rave from Stuttgart to Munich. In the town and on the bus, strangers shoot her friendly smiles. Young children point and ask for selfies. But she knows that celebrity is a fickle beast. She'll be long forgotten by the time New Year arrives.

As the run continues, the adrenaline subsides. The climb up the stairs to the dressing rooms gets longer every night. More and more the choreography constrains her. She's stuck in an endless loop of Christmas Eves, aching for the time when she and Nils can be together. She dreams about going to bed and waking up with him, of feeling his weight on top of her, of opening her legs to him and letting him push inside. She's impatient, expectant and - most of all - horny. And she just can't wait any more!

--

"One more to go," sighs Kerstin as she hangs her pink tutu on the costume rack.

Behind her, Elsa is wiping the final few traces of makeup from her face.

"Are you coming to Jürgens' party tonight?" she asks her friend.

The Sugar Plum Fairy hesitates.

"I'm not sure," she says. "I might just come for a bit. I think we're all gonna be really tired."

Elsa tries desperately to stop herself smiling. With the friend out the way, she'll definitely have Nils to herself!

"What are you up to now?" she asks.

"I'm just gonna go home. I didn't bring anything to eat. What about you?"

"I thought I'd go shopping," says Elsa. "I need to look for a Christmas present for my Mum."

The two girls walk down the stairs to the stage door. Elsa couldn't be more excited. She's been to Jürgen's several times. It's a big house in the center of town with lots of spare bedrooms. She's got it all planned. She's going to get Nils upstairs and seduce him. Everything is ready -- she's bought new lingerie and there's a little box of condoms secreted in her holdall. Tonight will be a night to remember!

The two friends step out into the street and set off in different directions. It's a late Saturday afternoon and the town is busy with Christmas shoppers. Elsa dawdles a little, killing some time, making sure that Kerstin is well clear.

She turns into the main shopping street, squeezing her way past a group of carol singers on the sidewalk. At the end of the block she turns again, heading for the back entrance to the theater.

The grand building is quiet now. It's almost an hour after the afternoon performance ended and more than two to go before the curtain is raised for the final time on the Nutcracker. Quietly Elsa ascends the stairs back up to the dressing rooms. She's got her excuses ready in case she bumps into Frau von Tanzenhohe. But she's fairly sure the ballet mistress has gone home to change for the gala performance.

At the top of the stairs, she reaches into her pocket, tracing the outline of the envelope. It's a flirty card for Nils, wishing him luck and hinting at what they might get up to later tonight. And this time, she's made sure to write her boyfriend's name clearly on the front. Besides, she's seen Matteo heading off with his dad and his grandparents -- there's no way the wrong person will get the message this time!

As quietly as she can, she opens the door to the boys' dressing room. The handle's a little stiff and her nervous, clammy hands don't help. Once inside, she closes the door firmly behind her.

She turns around. Immediately in front of her is Matteo's table, with the Mouse King's head in the center. It's a giant, hideous mask, with snarling open jaws. She used to be so terrified of it, but in the last month she's grown quite fond of it. To her surprise, she reaches forwards and strokes the top of the head, wondering if in a different world, she and Matteo might have got together.

Elsa shakes herself. She can't think like that. Nils is her boyfriend. Matteo will be gone and forgotten by the time school returns in January.

She turns and walks over to Nils' dressing table. It's obvious which is his -- the bright red Nutcracker tunic is draped untidily over the back of the chair. She wonders if she should hang it up. The costume designer would be furious if she saw it like this.

There's a noise behind her. She freezes. Someone is struggling with the doorknob. In a panic, she looks around for a hiding place and makes a dash for the costume racks, concealing herself behind them as the door opens.

A figure enters, shuts the door behind them and slides the bolt across. Cautiously, Elsa peeps out. It's Nils! He clearly just got out of the shower -- there's one towel around his waist and another around his neck. He walks across to his dressing table, little drops of water glistening on his back.

Frozen in place, she watches as he switches on the lights around his mirror. He lifts the towel from his shoulders, rubbing it vigorously though his hair. She's seen Nils bare-chested hundreds of times, but as he stands in front of the mirror, bathed by in the warm bright lights, her heart skips a beat. His skin shines and his pecs gleam. He's the very vision of a Greek god.

Casually he tosses the towel to the side and reaches down into his holdall. As he straightens up, she can see he's holding something. It's a small glass bottle. It looks like perfume, certainly not ordinary deodorant. Is he really going to wear cologne for the final performance? He holds the bottle about six inches from his skin and gives two short sprays to each side of his neck and then a longer one across his chest.

Still concealed in her hiding place, she can already smell the fragrance. A light, heady scent, maybe even a little spicy. Perhaps he's just trying it out? This must be a surprise for later!

Nils sets the bottle down on the table and looks at himself admiringly in the mirror, running his fingers through his damp blond hair. He pulls a cheeky smile and peers a little closer at his reflection, carefully wiping something from the corner of his eye.

Carefully he unwraps the towel from his waist, bending his legs a little as he rubs the area around his groin. Elsa stares open mouthed, catching little glimpses of his cock and balls as he lifts his knee to dry the inside of his thigh. Her pulse is already racing and she can hear her breathing getting louder, but she doesn't want to reveal herself yet!

He straightens up again and discards his towel to the side. There, between his legs, in full view, is his cock. Her jaw drops. She's never seen him fully naked before. She watches his manhood sway gently in front of his balls as he leans down to pack the glass bottle away in the holdall.

Nils straightens up again and takes half a step back from the mirror. Elsa wonders if this is the moment to leap out and surprise him. She'd kiss him on the lips then sink to her knees. But she can't move - her feet are glued to the floor, frozen in place behind the costume racks.

Mesmerised, she watches him grasp his cock between his thumb and first two fingers. Slowly he begins to stroke himself. She can't quite see the reflection of his face in the mirror, but she's sure he's got his eyes closed -- she's sure he's thinking of her. He moistens his lips a little and her eyes fall again to his cock. He's hard! Can guys really get hard that quicky? Nils is such a stud! She listens, holding her breath as his strokes get quicker. Is she gonna get to see him cum? She's sure she could give provide some assistance!

She's about to push the costume rack out of my way and to leap out, when he suddenly stops. He stands still in front of the mirror, admiring himself. She can see the full extent of his erection now, jutting out from the dirty blond curls at its base. A gently curving column of white ivory reaching upwards to the bright red mushroom head at its end. There are no words to describe its beauty. Undoubtedly there are guys in who are bigger, but who cares? Nils' cock is perfect! Abandoning any plans to reveal her presence, Elsa decides to watch the rest of the show!

But to her surprise, Nils reaches under the Nutcracker tunic and picks up a pair of pure white ballet tights. He bends down to put them on, awkwardly hopping from one foot to another as he slides the stretchy fabric up his legs. He straightens up, pulling them over his erection. With no dance belt to hide his modesty, the outline of his cock is unmistakeable. It's clear now that he's acting out a fantasy. The X-rated Nutcracker, preparing to deflower his innocent Clara!

He picks up his red tunic and slips it on, rolling his shoulders to make sure it's fitting correctly. Another flick of hand through his hair and he picks up his phone. Elsa gasps. He's gonna take a selfie and he's gonna send it to her!!

He holds the device up in front of himself and takes the first photo. He quickly checks the screen and types a couple of words before pressing send.

Elsa holds her breath. Her phone's gonna go ping and then she can jump out and reveal herself!

But her phone doesn't go ping. Quietly she curses the lack of reception.

Nils is taking more photos, holding the device out to the side, making sure he gets a good profile view at waist height.

The agony of waiting. Elsa's phone is burning a hole in her pocket. Surely it's gotta make a noise soon? He must have sent three or four!

But just as she decides she to jump out anyway, Nils puts down his device, turns around and, still wearing his costume, hotfoots it out the door.

From the corridor there's the sound of another door opening and closing again. Was that Nils? Was that him going into the girls' dressing room? What's he doing in there? Is he leaving a present for her?

She pushes her way past the clothes racks in time to hear the ping from Nils' phone. The screen has lit up.

She picks it up.

It's still unlocked.

The new message appears.

And her happiness shatters into a million pieces.

For there, on Nils' phone, is a photo of a pair of splayed female legs perfectly framed by the gauzy tuille of a pink tutu.

Her stomach lurches. She knows who it's from. She doesn't even have to check the name. Nils didn't his photos to her, he sent them to Kerstin!

From the room next door there's the sound of a chair being moved and an unmistakable female giggle.

In denial, she scrolls up the screen. Nils' selfies are there. And there are more pictures of Kerstin. Messages flash past as Elsa's world collapses around her. Snatches of text lash out at her soul as her hands begin to shake.

"Has that boring bitch gone?"

"She's shopping. Won't be back for an hour."

"I want you in your costume!"

"Only if you're in yours."

"Where are you?"

"I want you to fuck me in my tutu."

Elsa lets out an anguished cry and dashes from the room.

Outside the door to the girls' dressing room, she pauses. Surely she's got this wrong? Surely, Nils isn't in there with Kerstin?