Victor
I spent the short thirty minute drive home going exactly the speed limit and obeying all traffic laws. Glancing in the rear view mirror every few seconds assured me that Sophia was completely out of it. She shifted between resting her head against the window to stare blankly out the window and lolling her head back against the headrest, eyes closed.
My heart raced, excitement filling me up. I'd thought about this for so long. Planned and prepared. Now, finally, there was someone worthy of my preparations.
Putting the car in park, I shut it off but left the headlights on.
Going around to the passenger side, I opened the back door and quickly grasped the slight frame that came tumbling out. She'd taken her seatbelt off. Was she trying to escape, or was that simply the instincts of someone getting out of the car at their destination.
"Shh," I hushed her, though she wasn't making any noise. Gathering her in my arms, I enjoyed the way she went pliant and obliging, pressing her face into my chest.
Not bothering to shut the back door of the SUV, I carried her to the house. She weighed next to nothing and it wasn't difficult to get past the front door or the one that led to the basement.
Navigating the stairs carefully, I pushed open the metal door at the bottom of the steps. The room - the one I'd worked so hard to perfect - came to life as I flicked on the light.
Flawless white paint, sleek dark wood, and a spotless mirror that ran the length of the left wall. Across from the door was a huge bed framed in dark iron on three sides.
I laid Sophia out on the pristine white blankets, pillowing her in a cloud of comfort. She let out a small moan, rolling away from the light and burying her face in fabric. Her black hair contrasted perfectly against the starch white and I couldn't help myself but to gently pull the scrunchie from her bun. I ran my fingers through the soft strands until they were untangled and fanned out all around her in a dark halo.
She murmured something soft and sweet, wordless but pleased, and I smiled.
She almost looked like she belonged here, but there were issues with the picture. The dirty soles of her ballet flats, the darker patch on the inner arch that told me a blister hid beneath. The clear break in the strap of her leotard which she had tied back together rather than replaced.
No, that wouldn't do. That wouldn't do at all.
Tutting my disapproval, I pulled a duffle bag out from beneath the bed and got to work.
First came the flats, which would need to be burned. Then, the tights. They had laddered at some point, several runs ruining the fabric. She wouldn't be getting those back either.
Finally, there was the leotard. I hooked my fingers under both camisole straps and dragged them off her shoulders. The cloth clung to her as I removed it, revealing inch after inch of perfect porcelain skin. First her back, and then her waist. Finally the gorgeous curve of her ass, a result of all her endless practice.
I stepped back, biting the inside of my lip as I focused first on the aesthetic form. While her arms and legs were clearly muscled and her ass was firm even without flexing, I could clearly see the dips and valleys of her rib cage. She wasn't eating enough, and it pushed her form to the edge of grotesque.
I imagined her like this, up on stage for all to see, and knew that even an untrained eye would question her perfection. I would fix that soon enough.
There was only so long a man could look at a woman laying completely naked in a bed before the sight affected him. My cock twitched in interest and I groaned, reaching down to grip it through the fabric of my slacks. I'd yet to see more than her bare back and already I was filled with want.
She shifted a little, not enough to reveal anything but enough to tease at more, and I glanced down at the duffle bag that held the new clothing I'd bought for her. I'd simply meant to dress her and wait for her to wake, but -
"Anything," she'd said. "I'd give everything if I had to."
She had meant it, I knew she had. While the price I was referring to was the cost of isolation and the strain of my strict expectations, I hadn't ruled this out entirely. What was the point of creating something flawless if I could not enjoy it, after all?
"Anything, hm?" I murmured, stepping closer and kicking away the duffle bag. I licked my lips as I reached down, wrapping my fingers around her shoulder and turning her over, guiding her to press her back against the bed. She squirmed again, still trying to hide her face from the light, but moved the way I wanted her to all the same.
I closed my eyes, overcome. I imagined her standing before me with her hands clasping the bar, one leg en pointe and the other stretched up in the air. The way I would press against her, into her, even as I guided her to straighten her stance. The way she would listen, perfectly obedient. Perfectly mine.
When I opened my eyes again I saw red. Her lips, her nipples, both flush with blood. Her tongue was peeking out, an exact color match to the hint of pink hidden beneath the thatch of black hair between her legs.
It was all so tempting I wasn't entirely sure where to begin.
My cock made the decision easy though. I let go of her shoulder and unbuttoned my slacks. Reaching in, I pulled it free from the cloth and stroked myself to full hardness as I considered how far I would go. She wouldn't remember tonight. She had no idea what was happening, and no way to stop me. I could do anything I pleased and there was so much I wanted to do.
Deciding to start her off easy, I used the hand that wasn't wrapped around my cock to press two fingers against her lips. They parted, her eyes remaining blissfully closed and completely unaware as the wet heat of her tongue slid against my skin. She shifted, making a noise that could be construed as a moan.
"Oh fuck," I whispered, drawing my fingers out and using her saliva to slick up her right nipple. It was already hard, likely from the cold, but it was easy to imagine she was just as turned on as I was. "That's right, my treasure. There you go."
I let go of my cock, using that hand to cup her left breast instead. Continuing to roll the right nipple to a stiff peak that left her shifting beneath me, I imagined pressing her breasts together and fucking them until I came. That was only one of many ways I could take this, though, and didn't want to end things quite so soon.
Instead, I returned to her mouth, slipping my fingers inside once more and stroking her tongue.
It was enough to make me feel crazy. Enough to push me over the edge and I knew I had to have her. I hadn't stopped thinking about that mouth all night. The way her lips had wrapped around the water bottle, the fantasy of watching her drop to her knees and offer herself to me in exchange for this training. I had to get those lips around my cock no matter what.
Removing my fingers, I gripped her chin and tilted her head back, sliding a pillow beneath her head to keep her propped up. It wasn't perfect, but it would do. I climbed onto the bed and straddled her, positioning myself over her before gripping my cock and sliding it past her parted lips.
It took a moment to get the angle right and then her slack jaw dropped a little lower and I found myself sinking into her. I pulled back and then pushed in again, groaning at the feel of her all around me. Engulfing me. She shifted, murmuring something, and I froze, not wanting her to choke and not entirely sure when the drugs would begin to wear off.
After a moment she settled again, and I began to press myself into her again, inch by inch, until my pubic hair was pressed against her nose and my cock was down her throat. I kept still for a moment, savoring the way her throat constricted around me, the way her body fought my invasion.
When I drew out, a thin string of saliva followed. I used my thumb to brush it away before thrusting back in. Over and over again, my rhythm quickening as I sought completion. I wanted her to wake up and suck my cock. I wanted her to suck it while fully awake and eager for more. I could train her to love sucking cock, keep her locked away here. Keep her all to myself.
But no, I'd made her a promise. When I took her, I told her I would make all of her dreams come true, and that included turning her into the best dancer possible.
It would take time. Months, maybe even years, before she would be presentable to the world again. Before she would be the perfect dancer I knew she could be. As her lips stretched obscenely around my girth, as I felt the heat of her mouth engulf me again and again until I was right at the edge and ready to tumble over.
"Fuck," I growled, as I pulled away from her pretty mouth and fought to keep from coming. Laying there with her mouth open and her eyes shut, she was the picture of perfection. Obedient and willing, designed to tempt me. It was a temptation that I could not deny, but I wasn't finished yet. There were so many things I wanted to do with her and I knew that tonight was a rare treat. It would take some time to build up enough trust between us for her to become this pliable without the drugs.
We had the time though. We had all the time in the world.
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Here we go! Things are officially getting dark and Sophia doesn't even know it yet. There's one more episode from Victor's point of view before we return to Sophia. What do you think he's going to do next? What do you want him to do?
High Point is the quarterly dark romance project that updates twice a week and will last for 12 weeks as we follow Sophia and Victor in a dizzying dance of lust and obsession, obedience and endurance.
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