False_Princess Ballerina Boy Commission Part 1

Story by Gaasuba on SoFurry

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#3 of Commissions

Nathan's life is thrown for a loop when he finds his shoes replaced with ballerina slippers.


Nathan scoffed as he slumped into the auditorium seat. The whole school had been forced out of class to suffer through this performance. Men and women flitted across the small stage, all dressed in costumes of varying femininity.

The high school sophomore leaned over to his friend, Amy, and whispered, "How many dicks do you think all those guys had to suck before their dignity was low enough to do this?"

Amy frowned and shushed him, actually enjoying the performance. Nathan sighed and looked around at the rest of the students. Most looked just as bored and miserable as he felt but there were a few weirdos like Amy who seemed really into it.

"How can you like this bullshit?" he asked.

The scolding shush that his question received this time didn't come from Amy but from somewhere behind him. The sound made him flinch and he slowly turned to see his teacher glaring at him. Mr. Green's arms were crossed as he glared over two rows of seats. Damn that dick just did not know how to let anything slide. He was bored as hell, of course he was going to talk. At least he wasn't being loud.

It felt like an eternity before they were released from the hell that was the ballet performance. Nathan pulled his bag over his shoulder and proceeded to leave but was stopped by his teacher. "Mr. Hill, you will be staying behind to clean up. Perhaps that will teach you some respect for the arts."

Nathan groaned, "But Mr. Green, come on! I have class." At least he could space out in class and not actually have to work.

"You let me worry about that. Now take this note and head back stage. I expect this place to be spotless. And if you break anything, you'll be paying for it." He shoved the note into Nathan's hand and pushed him towards the front of the room before leaving with the rest of the crowd.

Nathan shuffled to the front of the room, going against the flow of lucky fuckers that were getting to go to their class. He was surprised he managed to make it past them all and to the stage. He lifted the note to the woman speaking to all of the performers.

"Good job every one! You did well today! Get all of your gear packed up and we'll go get something to eat!" she paused when she noticed the boy standing expectantly. Her golden hair flipped across her shoulders as she turned to examine the piece of paper he was holding out to her expectantly. "Oh hello. What's this?" She took the note and stared down at the barely legible scrawl, her delicate brow furrowed as she struggled to understand what the teacher had been trying to convey.

"So you're going to help us clean up?" Nathan nodded, "Well that's great! Come on back and start up then. I'll make sure we stay out of your way. I know you probably want to get out of here as fast as possible."

Nathan shrugged and hoisted himself onto the stage. After glancing around at the work ahead of him, he took off his shoes and socks to set them somewhere safe. He had just bought those and like hell he was going to scuff them doing something stupid like cleaning up after a boring-ass ballet performance.

As he thought about it, he decided to put away his glasses too. It's not like his vision was so bad that he couldn't clean the damn auditorium without them. He pulled his glasses case from his bag and set them inside before setting everything in one of the seats, far away from any damaging stage props.

It took a little over an hour to get everything cleaned up. One excruciating hour of lifting, dragging, pushing, and coughing up dust. He was so damn relieved to be done and able to put his shoes and glasses back on and get the hell out of there.

Except his shoes weren't where he had left them. In their place, instead sat two pink ballerina slippers. Inside of them was his glasses case which he removed. 'Some of the other assholes from his class must have come back and swapped them as a joke,' he thought as he shoved his glasses back onto his face. He muttered a few choice swears as he tried how to get this figured out without a teacher yelling at him for being barefoot in the halls.

He was thankful when Mr. Green strode back into the room. Maybe he could get out of this without being blamed for something that wasn't his fault. "I finished cleaning but someone's taken my shoes. Can I go barefoot until we find them? Or maybe call my dad to bring me a different pair?"

Mr. Green stared down at the ballerina shoes and frowned in confused, as he should, because what sort of idiot even thinks that a prank like this is clever.

"Stop joking around, Hill, and get to class."

Nathan stared at his teacher, at a loss for words. Couldn't he see that these were clearly not his shoes? What sort of idiot just wore around ballerina shoes? That was against uniform policy any way!

"Sir! Are you even looking at the same pair of shoes! Those are obviously not uniform shoes!"

"Mr. Hill, do not raise your voice to a teacher. If you keep this up, I'll be forced to give you detention. Quit this nonsense, put on your shoes, and get to class."

Nathan wanted to argue but he knew he'd really be in for it at home if he got detention again. Surely another teacher would stop him for wearing something out of uniform and he would get a chance to defend himself. So, begrudgingly, he shoved the pink slippers onto his feet.

He was nervous as he entered the class room, he just knew every one was going to stare and laugh at him. He wasn't far off. They managed to keep it down to snickers and whispers, but he knew. He also knew that he was going to have to deal with this shit for the rest of the day. While the teacher stepped out, he tried to explain how he had been forced to wear them, but no one would believe him.

He had never been more thankful for school to be over and wasted no time finding his way out of the building and back home. At least he could count on his parents to agree with him about the injustice of it all. He could bitch about Mr. Green forcing him into them and tomorrow one of them could go to school with him and demand they find out who stole his shoes.

"How was school today, sweetie," his mom asked.

"Pretty crappy," he said, being careful to watch his language, "Mr. Green mad me clean the auditorium for talking while the show was going on and, when I got done, my shoes were had been stolen and replaced with these stupid ballerina shoes. I told Mr. Green but he totally ignored that someone had stolen my shoes and told me to wear these ugly things!" He pulled the slippers off of his feet and flailed them in the air dramatically.

His mom only seemed confused, just as Mr. Green had been, "Those are certainly very pretty shoes, sweetie, but aren't they you're uniform shoes?"

Nathan almost screamed. What was wrong with every one? He couldn't even figure out what to say. What could he say? Every one suddenly believed that these ugly ass ballerina shoes were his uniform shoes. He supposed they were more comfortable but that was beside the point.

He decided to go out to take his mind off of things. So, after changing out of his uniform into a t-shirt and jeans, he slipped on his sneakers. He was already beginning to feel better about his day when, to his horror, his shoes began to change. They shifted and warped around his feet until he was, once again, wearing those disgusting pink slippers.

This had to be a dream. It was the only explanation. Unless magic was suddenly very real, this had to be a dream. Everything seemed real enough though. He decided that the best thing to do would be to just put the slippers out of sight, do his homework, and go to bed. The next morning, he would wake up, and everything would be normal again.

And so that's exactly what he did. Only it didn't work. The next morning, the slippers were still there, mocking him. He tried wearing his old pair of shoes only to have them transform just as his sneakers had done. So, he gave up. He couldn't miss school and everyone seemed to think this was normal any way. Maybe he was just losing his mind and his shoes never actually changed.

Just like the day before. At breakfast, his parents talked normally. In class everyone snickered and sneered but made no mention of him being out of uniform.

He was sitting at lunch when the shit finally hit the fan. Jacob, Chris, and Aaron approached him with a purpose which caused him to wince before they even spoke. The three were well known as the school's top bullies and they had long sense decided that Nathan was one of their favorite victims.

"How's it going, twinkle toes?" asked Aaron. A stereotypical insult from a stereotypical thug. But wait. An insult like that meant that they could tell he was wearing ballerina slippers, right?

"Did it take you all day to think that one up, dick head?" Nathan asked, deciding not the draw attention to his shoes in case they hadn't actually noticed. The three just laughed, completely unfazed by his harsh tone and insult, as was expected.

"Calm down," Chris chuckled, "We didn't come here to fight." That seemed unlikely.

"Then what the hell are you here for?" Nathan spit back.

"We were just hoping you could teach us a few moves," Chris said with a half-assed, mocking twirl, sending them into fits of laughter, once again.

Nathan rolled his eyes and decided to try ignoring them. They pushed and poked at him as he tried to eat. "Come on man! Don't be a fucking prude. Hop up and show us your sweet moves!"

It was Jacob that decided to physically pull him from the table. He was the schools biggest soccer star, so he had the strength to do it. He pushed Nathan from the table, "Come on, faggot! Show us what you can do!"

Nathan was really getting sick of this. He just wanted to eat and get this damn day over with. Why was that so much to ask for? Jacob shoved him again and that was enough to make Nathan snap. He twisted in a perfect pirouette, digging his heel into the jock's stomach and sending him flying back into a chair which flipped over from his weight.

Nathan froze, wondering what the fuck he had just done. Was that a ballet move? He didn't know anything about ballet and he certainly hadn't paid enough attention at that boring ass show to learn anything like that. And how the hell did he stay up on his toes like that?

He decided to leave the cafeteria, suddenly not hungry any more.

The next day, things only got worse. His shoes had grown ribbons, stockings formed whenever he put on his socks, and underwear turned into panties. The nylon tugged against his leg hair uncomfortably throughout the day even though the panties, admittedly, weren't that bad.

The dancing was getting worse too. A few times, he caught himself walking on his tiptoes which caused his best mate, Ray, to laugh. It wasn't a cold laugh like that of the other assholes at school though. It was good-natured, as if it was just part of what he had liked about Nathan all along.

That night he decided to shave for the sake of dealing with the stockings. It felt weird but, after he had finished, he decided it felt kind of nice. The feeling of the cool sheets against his skin was especially pleasant. It was painfully annoying that any underwear changed into panties. He figured, if his attire got bad enough, he could just sleep nude. So, it wasn't that big of an issue.

The third day, the 'infection' spread even further in the form of a stereotypical pink tutu and the inability to walk without leaping, dancing, or prancing. He tried searching Google that night but the only results he got were porn sites. It wasn't as if he had really expected to find anything. Who would be stupid enough to ask about something like this? No one would take the seriously and whatever forum they were on would probably just remove the post thinking they were a troll or something.

By that weekend, the curse had devoured his entire outfit. He couldn't put on a single thing without it turning into some form of ballerina accessory. If he put on a shirt it would become some form of leotard, jackets became form fitting and girly, and hats became tiaras. It was a fucking nightmare.

To make things worse, he was supposed to hang with Amy Saturday night. How could he face her like this? How could she even continue to take him seriously. Sure, Ray had, so far, acted as if nothing had changed but that didn't mean things were the same. He'd probably just wind up becoming a recluse and never talking to any one in person ever again. There had to be some online business he could get into right?

As he pondered business from home, the sound of the doorbell rang through the house. Nathan froze. He needed to find some way to seem semi-normal. He pulled off his shirt and slipped into a jacket. Yeah, it was girly, but it was better than the leotard or being shirtless.

The tutu was the problem. It wasn't like different pants turned into different skirts. Oh no, that would be too easy. Instead they all turned into some form of tutu. Not flattering at all. So, he opted for sitting on his bed with his blanket over his lap. It was dumb but it would have to do.

"You in there Nathan?" Amy's voice accompanied three small knocks against his door.

"Yeah!" he called back, "Come on in!" Amy followed the instruction, stepping into the room and closing the door behind her. Her long black hair, which reached just past her shoulder blades, was pulled back into a loose pony tail. She was dressed in her usual full Aeropostale getup; jacket, polo, shorts, and flip-flops.

She stopped to stare at Nathan for a long while, gripping the satchel over her shoulder nervously. Eventually she took a deep breath and spoke, "I know what's going on. I know about your curse. I think I may be able to help."