A/N: I watched the 1925 movie last weekend with some friends, and the discussion afterward inspired this story, in particular some sketches and comments made by Stamina Overlook. Thanks for the inspiration, Stam!
C/W: Explicit sexual content, including some dubious consent
"What do you offer for their lives?"
As she lay sprawled upon the stairs that were just a few feet away from the room her love and the mysterious inspector were imprisoned in, Christine Daaé stared up at the deranged man who she had believed to be an angel, just a short time ago. How wrong she had been, she thought fearfully.
The opera ghost - Erik - stood looming over her, a strangely impassive look on his hideous face. With his arms crossed across his chest, and his hips canted toward her almost obscenely, there could be no doubt what he wanted from her, especially not when her gaze fell upon the bulge in his trousers.
Although she looked at him with pleading in her eyes, Christine could tell he was not going to be moved to pity by her, and Erik's next words confirmed it. "Your answer quick - they can survive but a few moments."
Dropping her head in defeat, Christine felt herself mechanically nodding her agreement. What choice did she have? Raoul would die within minutes if she didn't give Erik what he wanted.
Christine watched as Erik moved to reach for a spot high on the wall at her action. When he pressed what must have been a hidden lever, the light shining through the holes in the viewing window to the room Raoul and the inspector were trapped in disappeared, and the heat in the room must have eased, given the exclamations of relief that echoed from inside. It was eerie how plainly she could hear everything from the chamber, as though the two men were in the same room with her and Erik.
Silently, Erik strode across the room and sat down stiffly upon the sofa, bracing his hands on his knees as he looked at her.
Somehow, Christine found the strength to rise and drag herself over to him, her mind screaming internally at what she was about to do. Reminding herself that she was only doing what she must to save Raoul's life, Christine knelt slowly in front of the man she had foolishly thought to be the angel of music.
Staring at nothing in particular, she reached for the fastening on Erik's trousers, only to quickly pull her hands away when he gasped and started as she did so. Looking up, Christine could see him watching her, but unlike his empty expression earlier, now his gaze was nearly frantic as he stared at her.
Did he think she wouldn't go through with this? Suddenly, seeing the way he looked almost afraid of her made some of her fear fade away, to be replaced by anger...and something else.
Christine reached for his trousers again, opening them almost roughly, pulling them down below his slim hips before letting her gaze rest on his manhood. Eyes widening as she took it in, she left her fingers drift over the bulging veins and purplish head, only to hear Erik whimper at her touch.
Returning her gaze to his face, Christine experienced a realization: Erik had taken control of her life and forced her into a corner, but in this dynamic, she had an opportunity to take at least some power back from him.
Never more grateful than she was at this moment for her experiences with the opera's patrons, Christine slowly lowered her head, tracing her tongue over the veins on Erik's shaft before swirling it around the tip. Letting her lips slide down just enough to encase the head of his cock, she gave it a delicate suckle, only to be rewarded with a strangled groan from above her. Yes, she thought as she let her mouth take in more of him, feeling triumph at his obvious response to her.
Once Christine had taken him as far into her mouth as she could, she brought one hand up to grip the base as she began to slide her lips up and down his cock, hearing Erik let out another tortured groan before he rested a hand on her brown curls. "Oh, Christine, you're such a good girl, taking care of your Erik like this," he praised her, gently stroking her hair.
Those words both thrilled her and made her angry, Christine discovered, and she responded by bringing her other hand up to him as well, letting her fingers trail over the sac between his legs. Relishing Erik's gasp, she next let her fingers drift to the top of his thigh, lightly caressing the thin skin where his leg met his groin before digging her fingernails into him there without warning.
"Christine!" At Erik's shocked cry, she looked up at him, afraid she'd gone too far, but he was staring at her with an almost worshipful expression. Experimentally, she dug her nails in farther, and was rewarded with a shudder from him. Did he like when she hurt him?
"Oh, my darling, you're far too good to Erik!" he exclaimed when she resumed her ministrations with her mouth, continuing to twist her nails into his thigh. However, Erik's excited moans and cries were creating another problem for her, one she never could have anticipated.
The evidence of how much Erik was enjoying her attentions was...exciting. Feeling this terrifying, powerful man come undone under her touch was strangely arousing, and almost without thinking Christine found her other hand reaching under her skirt. When she slipped a finger through the slit in her drawers, she gasped at the wetness between her thighs.
Unable to deny her arousal, Christine moved her finger to the small bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs, slowly circling it as she took Erik even deeper into her mouth. She felt his hand tighten in her hair at her actions, just before he spoke once again.
"Christine! Look at you, my darling girl, with your hand between your legs while you give Erik such pleasure. You like this, don't you?"
Moaning in answer as she continued to work her lips up and down his cock, pausing to lick the head before taking him back into her mouth, Christine realized suddenly that if Raoul still had his senses about him, he could doubtlessly hear everything Erik was saying to her. Although it was shameful of her, the thought of Raoul hearing what she and Erik were doing was somehow incredibly arousing, and she felt her fingers increase their pace slightly.
As though Erik had sensed the effect that his words were having on her, he continued, "Would Christine let Erik put his mouth on her cunt later? Would she like that?"
Although his smug tone told her that Erik already knew the answer to her question, Christine moaned in assent as she once again took him as deep into her mouth as she could. Again, while she knew she should be disgusted by the thought of Erik's horrible visage between her legs, she couldn't deny the thrill that shot through her at the thought.
A short time later, she felt Erik make a motion as though he was going to push her away from himself, but Christine resisted. Knowing what was about to happen, she moved her lips up his shaft until just the head of his cock remained in her mouth.
"Christine, Erik is going to…" he tried to warn her, but Christine had every intention of seeing their encounter through to the end. Tightening her lips around him, she reached for the thin skin near his groin with her free hand once again. When she dug her nails into his skin without warning, Erik cried out, beginning to come as she determinedly swallowed his seed.
When he had finished, Christine sat back on her heels, still working her hand between her legs as she looked up at Erik, feeling dazed at the expression on his face.
Feeling her own climax drawing near, Christine nearly flinched when Erik reached a hand toward her face, but he merely used his thumb to wipe a bit of his seed from the corner of her mouth. Instead of drawing his hand back, however, he tucked the digit into her mouth, as though he wanted to ensure she took every drop.
His eyes flared when she involuntarily darted her tongue against his thumb. "Look at you," he repeated, eyes roaming her face almost reverently. "Beautiful Christine. Won't you come for your Erik?"
She felt nearly as compelled by his words as she had been when Erik led her down to his lair, Christine realized, as her body reacted helplessly to his command. As the waves of pleasure began to pulse through her, she leaned forward, resting her forehead on the sofa to the side of Erik's legs as she shuddered through her orgasm.
When it was over, she remained where she was, lying against the sofa while she attempted to regain control over her breathing. If there was any consolation to be had in this whole horrid situation, she reflected, it was that Erik seemed just as affected by their encounter as she was, judging by the deep breaths he was also taking as he sat next to her.
Eventually, though, Christine felt him moving next to her, although she continued to remain still. After he had refastened his trousers, she got the sense that Erik was retrieving something from one of his pockets, but until he held his hand in front of her, she had no idea what it could be.
When she saw the golden ring laying on his palm, the bottom dropped out of her stomach. Hoping against hope that it didn't mean what she thought it did, she continued to slump in place while Erik swiftly destroyed that fragile thread.
"You have your chance to save him. Will you be the bride of Erik, or do you prefer to watch your lover die?"
Numb, she stared at the ring as it glinted in the light. How foolish could she be? Of course Erik wasn't going to be satisfied with a one-time rendezvous with her - he would demand she remain with him for the rest of her life, or Raoul would pay the price with his.
Staring blindly at the ring, Christine knew it was really no choice at all. She could never live with herself knowing that Raoul had died when there was something she could have done to try to prevent it.
"I will do anything you wish if you will only save them."
Defeated, she held her hand out to Erik, watching as he slid the ring on her finger slowly, almost reverently, eyes blazing in triumph. While he walked away, going into the next room for a moment before moving toward the room Raoul and the inspector were imprisoned inside of, Christine found herself spellbound by the ring that now adorned her left hand.
Why did she feel a sense of rightness as she looked at it? This wasn't what she wanted; it couldn't be. No sane woman would want to tie herself to Erik if she had any choice in the matter, so why did she feel almost a sense of relief that she didn't have to make that decision? Could it be possible that a part of her truly did want to stay with Erik, and if so, what did that say about her?
Thankfully, Erik had reached the little window that overlooked his strange mirrored room, and his exclamation when he looked inside distracted Christine from her swirling thoughts. Finally lifting her head, she looked curiously in his direction as he spoke.
"Oh! This is quite a surprising scene! Erik never anticipated such a thing happening. Perhaps Christine would like to look?"
The mix of confusion and fear for Raoul's life that swirled through her gave Christine the impetus to stand at last. Wavering, she looked at the man she had just agreed to wed. Had he deceived her before she could even keep her vow to him? Was Raoul already dead?
"Erik, you promised," she implored him, hearing her voice crack with the words. "You said he could go if I marry you." Tears began to blur her vision at the thought of her sacrifice being for nothing. Wondering how she would go on, Christine took a wobbly step back, wanting to flee from him, but realizing that there was nowhere she could go.
"No, no," he responded in a low tone, "they are quite alive." As Christine felt some of the air return to her lungs, Erik continued, this time with a bite to his tone, "Unlike Christine, Erik always keeps his promises."
Stepping back from the wall, he raised one hand in an oddly elegant gesture, wrist canted toward the window, fingers fluttering just slightly.
"But Christine needn't take Erik's word for it. Come, and see your vicomte for yourself."
A/N: Thanks for reading, and feel free to leave a comment. I always love hearing everyone's thoughts!