The glossy purple heels seemed rather tight around her hooves. The princess-pink latex socks hugging her legs all the way up to her thighs were smooth, cold, and gently creaked every time she made a move. The hot-pink shiny rubber leotard seemed to cling to all of her curves in just the right way. The matching latex socks around her forelegs were a nice complement to all the smooth, tight, grippy things on her body. The straps binding her forelegs behind her back, far above her head, and together at the hooves were uncomfortable, but yet oddly titillating. The strap holding one of her hind legs in an elevated position against her other leg was less comfortable, but still bearable. The way she swung back and forth as she dangled from her forelegs was both tiring to her shoulders, yet oddly exciting and carefree deep down in her chest.
 
The scent of rubber filled every inch of her sinuses as she deeply inhaled, only to be met with a layer of stretchy, impermeable latex that matched her leotard. No matter how much her lungs burned and her chest heaved, doing its best to draw in air, all she managed to do was suck the glossy rubber deeper into her maw. She became very familiar with the taste of latex as it engulfed her tongue and stretched across her teeth, gently squeaking and rustling on its way. By the time she was forced to exhale and push the strip of rubber out from her mouth, her lungs were no more satisfied; the burning in her chest seemed to grow yet more as her chest quickly expanded again, getting ready to begin the cycle anew. She knew that there would be no cool, refreshing, life-giving air behind the next breath…but every nerve in her body screamed at her to keep trying. Her forelegs trembled, both from the strain and the almost-complete lack of oxygen in her blood. She kicked her hips back and forth, sending her swinging…but this did nothing to make her situation any less restrictive, any less hopeless, or any less…latex-scented and flavored. And despite seemingly hovering so close to the edge of death…she’d never felt so alive.
 
“Yes…dance for me…”
 
Her eyes flicked forward. The dusty wooden stage was empty, besides for herself, and the reflective stand beneath her, allowing her to gaze at her own predicament. The spotlights shone down from high above, making her outfit gleam all the more brightly, and making her wish that she had sunglasses of some sort. The plush, ornate, but slightly-weathered chairs seemed to stretch out for miles along the deep-red carpeted floor…all empty, long abandoned…except for one. In this chair sat a rather unassuming unicorn stallion; gray fur, rugged brown mane, with a small little goatee sprouting off his chin. She recognized him…he was why she was here.
 
His horn lit up, and she could feel her mane being stroked by invisible, ethereal magic fingers. She shuddered, gagging on the latex as it managed to reach even further back into her mouth than it had yet. Her cheeks, though already hot, lit up even more as another invisible hand slipped…somewhere else.
 
“You’re going to be famous,” he whispered as the fingers continued stroking her mane. Somehow, she managed to gasp out loud in the one brief moment she had post-exhale before the rubber silenced her once more. “Ponies will come from far and wide to see you…my beautiful Breathless Ballerina.”
 
She was in no position to argue. All she could do was squirm against her bonds and shake her head, hoping to somehow dislodge the ever-present barrier between her lungs and some much-needed air. And yet…some strange part of her didn’t actually want it to go. That same part just wanted to dangle here forever…twirling about as gentle, quiet ballet music played from dilapidated speakers in the rafters (as it did even now), and cameras flashed from the seats. She…always had wanted to be a ballerina. That was why she’d signed his contract…but perhaps she should have been a little less eager, and actually read it first.
 
He had been nice enough to show it to her just a bit earlier…though she’d still been dangling and gasping for air at the time, so the specifics were somewhat fuzzy. All she remembered was that it said he wouldn’t let her go until he made 100,000 bits off displaying her…and she would be kept bound and breathless at all times. Fortunately and unfortunately, the latex was enchanted to serve two purposes. Firstly, it would keep her drained of all her magic at all times…so she couldn’t get free. And secondly…it was technically permeable, but only to the barest of degrees. Every breath, though it burned and suctioned the latex against the roof of her mouth, carried just the minimum amount of fresh air to keep her awake, alert, and as pretty as she was. No matter how hard she tried to gasp or hold off, she would always only get as few air molecules as she truly needed…and none of the ones that she wanted.
 
Sometimes, seemingly at random, she’d get even less opportunity to breathe in, and the world would slowly turn fuzzy, she’d feel dizzier and dizzier, she’d begin fading out as her breathing slowed…and then she’d be allowed more air, and it would all begin anew. It was hard to fight the urge to breathe even more fiercely when this happened, mostly from instinct…but partially from a sick enjoyment of the act. She…was beginning to like when the rubber stretched taut against her lips and invaded her maw. She’d grown to love the smell that the latex imparted throughout her being…almost like cake, but somehow harsher and tangier, more industrial as well. And even more concerningly…
 
She’d begun to discover that she enjoyed being bound, and refused to really try to break her bonds, or the ever-present and intrusive rubber strip that kept her speechless and breathless. It seemed strange to her as she thought about it; why was she getting pleasure out of having her mouth effectively raped by an annoying barrier of shiny latex? Usually, this wasn’t what she would want…not by any stretch of the imagination.
 
Her nose twitched, and she began to realize that she…not only wanted to be a ballerina…but she was beginning to…quite like where she was. She couldn’t understand the logic of it, but she was beginning to feel more and more arousal from how tightly the latex bound her, and how helpless she was. It was confusing, and…oddly inconvenient. But yet, her racing heart seemed to be just as concerned with her odd desires as it was her lack of oxygen. She would need to find a way to get away from him. Somehow, she needed to get away from the seemingly eternal gasps for air and feelings of arousal. Somehow…she needed to find a way to get herself to breathe and think normally again…
 
“Dance for me,” he whispered. “Show me how well you can move and bend…you’ll have to do some more for the crowds soon.”
 
She trembled and shivered, wiggling about as she hung suspended. The bouncing from her suspended legs caused the smooth latex to grind even further into her maw, making her growl even around the presence of the strip before her next light exhale sent it flying out of her mouth. Her mind raced in all directions as she tried to think of her next step. But for the moment, all she could do was twist and writhe, gasping for air that was forever beyond her reach.
 
The soft poetry of the music continued to play, though her ears were no longer able to hear it. She could only hear the squelching of latex; the rubber now swelling and contracting as it pressed with a dull crackling against her lips and passed across her tongue. The rubbery flavor was starting to grow increasingly appealing as her shallow, worried panting began to bounce off of the ceiling and walls of the room. Her eyebrows were knitted in worry and frustration, and her cheeks were hot from both her worry and the increasing arousal that was continuing to inflate within her tiring body. She could feel her mind drifting…she had to find a way…to get out of this, or risk becoming more and more addicted to this. It was becoming increasingly more obvious that the latex would give her no relief…would never allow her freedom, would never let her breathe, and…she’d be stuck in this situation for…forever, if she let it continue.
 
But the lingering taste of rubber lingered on her tongue as she panted; her hind legs twitched as she bounced gently, and her heart thumped harder and harder. She started to worry about how she would ever get out of this…would she be stuck there forever, slowly and surely losing her mind and becoming his plaything? Would she just go insane and start to enjoy this more and more? Panicking like this was draining her energy…but it was her or the latex…she had to choose. Her nostrils flared…and she began to inhale more and more…
 
She managed a weak moan as her thighs rubbed together, sending a shower of sparks throughout her non-breathing body. Her mane whipped back and forth, her hind legs trembled, and something tingling and teasing between her hind haunches began to pulse. Her breathing was going deeper and deeper as she continued to stare into space, her cheeks now red and flushed as her vision began to close in on itself near the edges. Her mind was flooded with thoughts of how she might never be able to breathe again, and a swirling haze filled her consciousness. And then…she was swinging, and her mane was dancing back and forth across the huge dance floor of the empty stage—
 
“Such a graceful dancer. You even have a wonderful sensual smile on your face.”
 
She blinked as she heard the start of his voice from right behind her. Her mind snapped back to reality as she saw the tip of her lower heel was now dangling limply just inches from the reflective mirror below. She had been dancing for him…
 
“Say, what was your name again…’Pinprick?’”
 
She let out a sort of pathetic combination of a gasp and squeal as his hoof reached between her legs and pressed against her crotch…hard. She choked weakly as a jolt of ecstasy shot through her body, and she bit down on the rubber that kept her from breathing. Her heart thudded deep inside her chest, and her eyes went wide as she struggled and jerked in her bonds. She kept hopping and writhing, bucking her hips against his hoof, pleading for it to go it deeper and hit all of her most sensitive spots at once. Below her, the mirror showed her reflection…and she could see one thing from it very clearly.
 
She was quickly losing the battle against her arousal.
 
“Well…that doesn’t matter now.” His hoof pulled away, and just like that, she instantly wished it were back between her legs. She wanted nothing more than to have those fingers pressing deeply into her now…preferably all at once. She shivered and bit at the rubber that invaded her mouth, frantically straining to both get free and get off. Her heart thundered in her chest, and every inch of her body felt hot and tingly. Her mind was drab and dark as her body shook and shimmied from the maddeningly subdued waves of pleasure that rippled through her lower body, contrasting with the sharp, airless pain in her upper body. “After all…you’re my Breathless Ballerina. That’s who you’ll be from now on.”
 
Her jaw quivered, and she bit down even more fiercely (and futilely) on the rubber as she stared down towards her flailing hooves and wildly jumping legs. With each twitch and shake, she could feel the contours of the latex form against her tongue and fill her maw with its dull, biting flavor. Her mind was hazy and blank as she began to wonder if there were any words in the world that could accentuate the feelings that were blanketing her body. Not that it would matter if she never got free to use those words…
 
“Your first show starts in 15 minutes,” he said, his voice rumbling in close to her now. She could hear the deep, false kindness in his voice…and his hoof pushed between her legs again, this time stroking her still-itching privates. Pinprick gasped and chomped hard at the unyielding rubber, panting and shuddering uselessly as she was forced further and further down into the feeling that swelled inside her. “After that, I’ll go easy on you, since it’s your first night.” She grunted at his words out of reflex as he stroked her harder, and a shiver of delight resonated through her body as she was hit by never-ending waves of pleasure. “But hey…wouldn’t it be nice to keep you like this all night?”
 
Pinprick nodded jerkily back in response, her eyes having rolled back into her sockets due to the continuing shockwaves being used against her. Wait…no! She wasn’t supposed to be agreeing with him!
 
He just laughed in response, even as she squeezed her thighs tightly around his hoof. “That’s a very good girl,” he chuckled as she weakly struggled to get a firm grip on him. “But it doesn’t matter…because just like everything else in your life now…you don’t have a choice.”
 
His hoof slipped away, and she felt like her body had exploded. Every part of her wanted that touch again, and she trembled furiously as he slipped away from her back. She panted and whimpered, closing her eyes and straining her body to try and hold that moment when his hoof was between her legs. Her breathing was shallow and raspy as she tried to keep her mind clear, and at least think about how to stop feeling this way…even if she couldn’t do anything about it. But the latex coating every bit of her mouth felt delicious, and the steady stroking from his hoof felt even more so. She coughed and wheezed as she started to get light-headed and feel boneless. The rush of arousal from all the pressure on her body combined with her inability to breathe was almost too much for her to handle as she thrashed and kicked, trying to quell the fire.
 
He ruffled his hoof through her mane, and then she was alone. All she could do now was feel herself sway gently from the ceiling, staring down at her squirming legs. Her breathing was sharp and quick as she gasped and moaned for air that was always beyond her reach. Her chest was trembling, her hooves were shuddering, and her mouth was open in a silent scream that was somehow always frustrated at the lack of air. All she could think to do now was watch herself…no longer Pinprick, but instead, the Breathless Ballerina.
 
Maybe she’d never fully get used to it… she probably never would. It was too late now. She whimpered and wriggled, then inhaled as deeply as her burning lungs would allow her. And then…she pressed her lips tightly against the latex hugging her muzzle, and took in a deep breath.
 
Her mind drifted into nothingness as she breathed in the tight-fitting, smooth latex that had her so tightly swaddled. Now, it had no flavor…no texture…but she could feel it all the same, silencing her as she stopped struggling. She could feel herself melting and uneasily relaxing into her ballerina-shaped bondage, buckling in on herself as she continued to suck in air. The unbreakable seal of the latex that kept her from breathing was perfect, keeping its shape through her struggle and bringing her unimaginable, illogical, carnal pleasure. Even the slightest stretching and flexing, and the sounds that came with it, seemed absolutely flawless.
 
Her heart was pounding violently in her chest, her mind was blank, and only the sound of her strangled breathing with the accompanying flexing rubber was filling her ears. She was breathless… and she was so completely free.
 
It was her darkest dreams come true.