EroticReverie

Saint Bishop

I grin to myself , as I watch on the cameras of the school security surveillance. 

“You’re welcome Little Ballerina” I hum to myself as I fist my cock, watching her with a hand over her mouth, another clutched to her stomach. 

I was on a plane to NYC the day before Anastasia left to NYC. I had needed to scope out her apartment. Had needed to do some strategic camera placing so I could watch my Little Ballerina whenever she was at home. 

When I followed her and that teacher of hers back to his place on her first night. I’d been fueled with rage. 

The next day. I broke into his apartment. Placing cameras , hidden in his room, his bathroom, his main living areas.  

And I’d watched. To confirm exactly what my little ballerina was doing. I’d need to punish her , I’d need to punish them both. 

But as I watched her, followed her each day. My Little Ballerina wasn’t happy. And from the looks of it, didn’t enjoy whoring herself to the man who’d had a train of girls in and out of his apartment the entire time he was screwing her. 

After last night, I’d had enough. I’d been planning and now, I’d completed what had to be done. 

No more whoring herself to the man responsible for her place at the school.  My little ballerina could go back to being the sweet innocent girl that I fell in love with. 

Miles was always one of the first people into the school. I know, because I’d started watching him too.  To know his schedule, to be able to get him alone or in a position for me to strike. 

I was already in the studio. Waiting there when he entered. I would have loved to draw it out, make him suffer the way he makes those girls suffer when he uses them and manipulates them. But he felt my blade across his neck before he even heard me. His hands grabbing at his sliced throat. Spinning as he choked on his own blood. I’d grinned and watched his eyes bulge as he tried to grab onto me. As if his killer would be his savior. Grasping my black hoodie as he’d fallen to his knees, blood soaking his front and the floor as it sprayed and dripped. Falling onto his back in front of me. 

“You won’t touch my Little Ballerina, ever again.” I told him and leaned down and wiped my knife on non soaked part of his shirt and fought the urge to spit on him as he took his last breath. 

I dropped the rose to his chest. Left a message with his blood on the wall. Then removed myself from the scene. Ducking down the less used corridors. My hands already working on my phone to erase the security footage of me entering the building. Erasing the footage of me in the halls. Of exiting the building. Replacing it with a general feed. So everything look normal, and they’ll be stuck trying to figure out who killed the bastard. 

I watch Anastasia walk through the halls. Visibly shaken. She doesn’t love him. I would even go as far as to bet, it’s not his death that has her terrified.  It’s me. She knows I’m here. She knows I killed that fuck for touching her. But she doesn’t need to be scared of me. I’d never hurt her.  The time in the showers, was a necessary hurt. I needed to show her she was mine. I’d needed to have her. 

…..One Week later…..

I’ve watched my little ballerina all week.  Watched her look over her shoulder everywhere she goes , watch her check the apartment each night , under her tiny little bed and in her tiny little closet , as if I’d fit in either of them. 

“Are you looking for me Little Ballerina?” I smile as she walks through her apartment and checking behind the small couch, making me smile. 

“Did you forget how tall I am Little Ballerina?” I talk to my screens from the apartment right next to hers. 

“No , I’m not in your closet” I smile to myself , watching her. 

“I’m not under the bed either” I say as she checks and the her shoulders sag and she goes to the window and I smile again as she jumps back. 

A rose on her window sill. 

“For you Little Ballerina” I say to myself and she curls her tiny fists into balls and snatches my black envelope off her window sill. 

I watch as she reads the short note. 

“Did you enjoy my gift Little Ballerina? Nobody will come between us. Ever.”

She rips up my note and I growl as she snaps the rose in half and runs to the bathroom and throws the petals in the toilet , along with the small shredded pieces of my note. 

I don’t like when she throws out my gifts to her. My little ballerina is so stubborn. 

I watch as she flushes it all down the toilet , gritting my teeth. 

“That’s not very nice.” I growl to myself as she stomps back to her room. 

“You fucking bastard!” She yells at, alone in her apartment. My eyes going to the wall that separates us and I groan at the sound of her voice muffled through the walls. 

It’s almost as if she knows I’m here and can hear her. But she doesn’t, she’s just angry with me. Maybe because I’ve been hiding. 

“Do you miss me Little Ballerina? Don’t worry, you’ll be seeing me soon.”