High Pointe

High Pointe - Episode 4

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.