High Pointe

High Pointe - Episode 9

Sophia

"Come to center and take first position," Victor ordered, his right hand wrapping around the crop in a threatening way. His left arm was stretched out towards me, gesturing with impatience. "Now."

I moved as quickly as I could, knowing that he would not accept anything less than perfection. The floor was smooth, the wood polished and shining. My heart raced, and not just from exertion. I had the feeling that I was on display, Victor's eyes tracking every inch of my body and picking out every imperfection.

As I moved into the requested position, I was struck by a sense of familiarity. Madam Olliphant and every ballet instructor before her had demanded that I fall in line, come to the center of the studio, begin in fifth position and perform whichever move or routine they were trying to teach me.

Victor may have been my captor, but he was also still an instructor.

If he had anything of value to teach me then I figured I ought to try to learn from him while I was here. The real trick would be finding a way out of this place before he got bored of me and decided to kill me.

"Now plie and rise," he said, and I did. "And again."

The movement was a simple squat in first position, something that a first year student could have managed. It was frustrating, being asked to do the simplest and most basic of moves as if I were being tested, but I didn't dare argue. I didn't know what the crop would feel like and I wasn't willing to find out.

"Again," Victor barked, and I did the movement a third time. "Keep going and do not stop or I will be forced to use this on you."

I winced as he smacked the crop against the palm of his hand, a sharp crack ringing through the room.

I performed another plie, and another, desperate to avoid the punishment.

He walked around me, studying every angle and watching each muscle contract and expand as I repeated the exercise.Over and over and over I did my plies, ready at a moment's notice for him to bark some new order at me. He never did.Instead, he continued to study me, the crop gripped in his left hand and the fingers of his right tapping against his lips.

I lost count of how many times I'd plied before my legs began to shake with the effort. Both my knees and my will to keep going threatened to buckle, but I couldn't. I wouldn't. The crop made a threatening appearance near my left ass cheek as my pace slowed, and I pushed myself to speed up again despite the fact that my thighs were burning, a hot sensation that made my legs quiver each time I performed the move.

I was growing tired, but not I hadn't pushed myself to the point of exhaustion. Still, the shaking was a sure sign that I wouldn't be able to keep this up forever and it certainly felt like he was expecting me to try.

"I- I can't," I panted a few minutes later, looking up at him as I dipped towards the floor and rose back up, hoping that asking would be enough to convince him to give me a break. "I can't keep going. Please."

"Yes, you can," Victor countered, eyes narrowing. "Do not stop."

This time I didn't listen, taking a moment to catch my breath and knowing what my little rebellion would cost me.

The crop came down against my ass and the pain was sharp and searing. A second hit followed immediately after the first, and I cried out in protest.

"Keep going," He ordered, and I fought down a scream of frustration. I wanted to strike out and grab the crop, to take the power back and show him a dose of his own medicine, but my last attempt to take him down had shown me exactly how strong he was. I was no match for him here and we both knew it.