Classes.

Ashley entered the sports center. The entrance area was rather large and empty, making her feel tiny and lost. She threw her hand to her hip pocket to check the time on her phone, only to end up slapping her own nylon butt. She decided against emburdening herself with her backpack, and the tutu had no place for pockets, as dance was its sole function.

"The skin feels so bare under the tights, and the skirt is so transparent... Did I really go out like this?"

In fact, she could not remember the details of her walking there. She did have a history of drawing a blank after anxiety-inducing events, so it must not have been pleasant.

"It's 10:08. Room 114, to the right. They must've already started."

Ashley turned to the voice. The girl at the front desk was already back to watching some TV show.

"Is that where the ballet classes are?" — the actress asked.

"Yes. I figured you were looking for these." — the receptionist looked at her again, a little more annoyed this time.

"Uh... Thank you."

Ashley hurried to the designated room. It was not really that comfortable to wear ballet shoes under her sneakers, and it was a great relief to see them out again while sitting on the bench in the locker room. Breathing deep, she opened the door to the practice room.

Inside, Ashley saw a group of women, already doing exercises. Unlike her, hey were dressed in simple leotards and tights. Some were about her age, some older.

"Did I overprepare? This can't hurt, right?" — Ashley thought. — "I guess they've noticed me."

Upon seeing her, the group stopped completely to look at her. One of them, the teacher, stepped forward.

"Can I help you?"

"I want to study Ballet." — Ashley asked clearly, her posture straight, her feet together. Her envisioned character was taking over.

"Very well." — the teacher went to the table in the corner and started writing something down. "Could you tell me your name and your level of training? We should be able to continue with you the very next time."

"I'm Ashley... what do you mean, 'next time'?" — that was clearly a dealbreaker. Some negotiation was going to be necessary.

"Well... " — the teacher seemed a little intimidated, but moved on with her points. — "First thing, we already started. I always take some time before the classes to get some details about experience, practice, health and such. Second thing is that gown of yours. It looks very good for a concert, but for training, I'm afraid it's inappropriate."

"It's what?" — Ashley would have taken the 'late' argument, but that last one was an insult to her precious, refined Balletwear. Perhaps this so-called 'teacher' would prefer it in its unaltered, amateurish state. And she thought these bland people could have a place within her own fairytale?

"Well, for example, the pointe shoes provide support for all the moves, but we're merely training the muscles to be strong enough and avoid trauma. If you're insistent on staying, you could begin with taking those off."

"How DARE you?!" — Ashley exploded. — "Who do you think you are, insulting my skills and my gear!"

"What's wrong with her?" — one of the girls said. Several others were smiling awkwardly, unsure what to think of this scene.

"I've seen how the real dancers do it! I wanna do it too!"

"No one can learn it in one day!" — the teacher raised the last objection, but Ashley already stopped listening, determined to do her own thing.

The ballerina stood up on her toes. It was so effortless. She felt powerful. She was going to show them all. Her hands moved from her shoulders, catching the invisible wave of inspiration, her ears were hearing the music that no one ever wrote. Now all of her body was in motion, each muscle like a spring.

Next time her hands were around her skirt, it was stiff and wide, with at least ten levels of material. Next time she was on her toes, there was no discomfort at all, and the ribbons climbed all the way up to her knees. Next time she touched her hair, there was a crown-like headpiece that must have grown out of the hairtie. The bodice held her tighter, yet never hindered her movement. The white mesh at her chest now went all the way up to her neck, as well as down her arms, all the way to the wrists.

***

Ashley was doing arabesques on a whim on the street. The air did seem a lot more fresh, that was certain. Did they kick her out? Living the dream and living the moment to her fullest potential, she did not remember, and also did not care. Light as a feather, she was moving somewhere. Was it even the right way home? All doubt had vanished when she saw the familiar fence. It felt so good everywhere that she did not even notice that it felt best right around her crotch.

The gate closed behind her. Ashley was home, where the last remainder of her shame was gone. She jumped high in the sky, closing her eyes. The moment she left the ground, she knew this jump was special. Both her legs and arms stretched upwards like strings above her head. The ballerina knew she was going to fall eventually, but this flight did not seem to be ending, as if time itself had stopped to allow her feeling it in its entirety.

When the gravity finally started pulling her, Ashley felt the first pulse initiate in her pussy. It was huge, she was terrified at the inevitability of it spreading throughout her entire body. It was not just an orgasm, it was the climax of her own existence. Every single of the senses and emotions was at an all-time high, and her lust was no exception. She was being fucked without a dick, straight into her brain.

As soon as she landed, the rest of the pulses followed. It was ungraspable. Ashley was gasping and squealing uncontrollably, thinking she was going to drown in pleasure on her own lawn, caring not if someone could hear her from the street.

***

Ashley was lying peacefully on the grass, still regaining her breath, staring blankly into the blue sky. Her panties were soaking wet. Her mouth was wide open, weak squirms still coming out of it. The big O has subsided, but the Balletwear that introduced her to it never went anywhere, instead transforming even more. She slowly tried to recover herself. The outfit was already almost complete by her standards when she was still dancing, but, surely, something else must have changed.

The ballerina tried to stand up, but not only her legs were shaking beyond any possibility of standing, her shoes also were getting in the way. Their soles were not stiff, they were solid, allowing no change to the 'en pointe' position of her feet whatsoever. The tights that were nylon melted into another, shinier material, while the silk ribbons were now going all the way up her ass, disappearing under the tutu.

She was seeing all this through a still somewhat transparent, yet a much thicker skirt that had also grown in diameter, to about five feet, no less! She tried to get through it to satisfy the natural urge to touch where it was wet, but could not, as the folding feature must have been overwritten during the newest 'enhancements'.

The body part grew a lot stricter and more detailed, with basque and panty part clearly distinguished from the bodice. The boned bodice, in turn, confined her to the highest standard, squeezing her rather firmly. The upper mesh part was replaced by an extension of the tutu fabric, with elegant gloves over her entire arms and a pronounced collar at the bottom of her neck.

She touched her hairpiece and felt changes there as well. The soft wreath turned into a solid crown with what felt like actual jewels! Since it was somehow tangled with the hairtie it once was, she could not take it off as it was.

Of course, the spirit of functionality, professionalism and decency was all gone. This Balletwear was unfit for any dancing at all, and Ashley wondered how it came down to this. If her conscience was not giving directions, then it must have been her subconscience instead.

"Hmmm, that makes this thing pretty easy to misuse out of control and into activation." — she thought, desperately trying to find a reliable way of moving towards her house. — "It looked so innocent and considerable in that instruction note, but it was the evil design all along! I need to get out of this before something irreversible happens!"

The overly stiffened ballet shoes could not be taken off because of the skirt, which, in turn, was integrated into the tutu. Of course, she did not think of any buttons on the back, so getting out of it conventionally was also impossible. Overcoming her fondness of the enchanted outfit, she pulled the collar both sides in hopes of ripping it, but it was too strong for her.

"If removing an unactivated suit proves more difficult than you prefer, then using the button should resolve any complications." — she remembered a quote from the instruction. — "The remote... the Dreamscale! It'll work! It has to!"

Ashley crawled towards the front door across her yard. Her door was not locked, so she got in without putting too much effort. The device was still on the couch, but she could not see the readings from there, so the only way was to keep crawling. Her entire body was hurting, and her knees were especially sore from this ungraceful kind of movement.

Getting near the door to her bedroom made her think of something. Her phone was there. She could call her boyfriend right now, and he would come and help her. In fact, it was clear she had to go after both things, but one of them had to be the first.