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~~~~Chapter 14~~~~

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How many sleepless nights, I have longed for you? How long I have struggled in my anguish! how many times have I prayed to heaven for that pity which now you ask from me! But in spite of all this, have I ever known a moment's peace without you? - Un Ballo in Maschera, Verdi

The next time Christine awoke, she felt even better. She still had no idea what time of day it was and how long she had been there. She briefly worried over the people who would miss her, then realized there were not many people above to miss her at all. She redonned the blue dress and exited the bedroom in search of her teacher.

When she saw him, he was making his way through the main room of the lair as he saw her approach. He held in his hand what looked to be a length of thin rope. "Ah, my child, I have just returned. You slept well?"

She blinked obviously at the rope, but smartly declined to comment. "Very well, thank you Monsieur."

"Good. The theatre will soon be safe to return to." He said simply, not letting anything on. He was about to walk by, before he paused, speaking.

"It is time, I think, for a lesson. To see how your voice has faired following this ordeal."

Christine was nervous, strangely, at the idea. She had a horrible thought that her voice would no longer please him and she could think of nothing worse in the world.

"Of course," she whispered.

He smiled as he turned, leading her to a part of the lair with a large piano in it. "Good. Let us begin." He said, offering her a smile as he began to play, demonstrating the first warm up, then prompting her to sing.

At first nothing came out. When she did begin to vocalize, the sound was weak, breathy. She stopped in frustration, angry at herself.

He smiled patiently at her. "Relax, take your time. Now, like this." He said, switching from open mouthed exercises to lip trills and humming, gentle exercises to establish the patterns which had allowed her voice to blossom so.

She was still holding back. She wasn't breathing right. Was it fear or had she damaged something? She started hyperventilating at the thought, becoming visibly distressed.

He stood and crossed to her, and without asking, placed a hand on her abdomen, feeling the tight boning of the corset. "Forgive me the impropriety of this, but I need you to remove the corset, only for now," he insisted gently. Nothing was damaged, he knew that; it was simply a manner of convincing her.

She gasped a bit at his touch but didn't pull away. "The dress would not fit me if I loosened the corset," she whispered.

He sighed at that. "I do not mean to be indecent, but you need to reestablish the release that you had before the incident, with your breath. As a result, you cannot be constricted in that corset. Not for the entire lesson, just for a few exercises," he assured, trying to keep his tone professional.

She bit her lip and lowered her eyes. She turned to a wall, walking toward a table while unbuttoning her blouse. She stripped it off with only a small bit of hesitation and placed it carefully onto the table. Her blue skirt clashed with the corset and shift covering her bosom, but she was able to reach behind her and attempt to loosen the ties.

Eric took a step towards her, his hands moving in to unlace the corset from behind. "Please know that I would never seek to use our relationship to take advantage of you.." He explained loosening the corset, but letting her decide to remove it.

Why did she feel like crying when he admitted that? It did confirm that her crush was unprofessional and unrequited, so she swallowed the lump in her throat and decided rashly to take the entire corset off completely, although it was unnecessary to do so. She had to undo her skirts as well to take the corset off. The slip she wore underneath was gorgeous. Richly made - of course a present only Eric would give. She straightened and turned to him with her chin high.

He was not expecting that, and he looked at her in that sheath. He remembered now just how elegant it was, and how her curves filled out the dress quite tightly. There was sheer fabric at the top of her bust, and his gaze would be drawn to that. With a bit more rough and commanding a grasp than he had intended, he pulled her towards him, his hands near where her intercostals were.

"Breathe into my hands," he murmured, holding her to him tightly.

Oh, she was breathing alright. Her heart thudded against her chest and the heat of his hands burned into her belly. She tried to comply, breathing deeply into his hands, but her nerves made it shallow, unsure.

To force the point, he would push at her mid back, the hand tracing down to her lower back. "Bend over," He instructed, placing his hands on either side of her hips, in the hollow of her side. "Breathe into this...Just like that..Good" he instructed, subtly massaging with his thumbs.

"Ah... "Her eyes were wide as she complied. She felt so indecent. Like she was presenting herself to him like a dog in heat. She tried to keep those thoughts at bay as she did as was asked.

A hand would trace up her back to her shoulder, pulling her firmly up. "There. Now..." he played a five note scale with one hand while keeping her tight against him with the other.

"Lip trills, breathing into my hands between each one."

She began shivering, overwhelmed by his body so close to hers. However, her breath began to return to her and she opened up, her voice began opening up

He felt her shivering, and he paused the exercise for a moment. "Are you afraid, Christine?" He asked, unable to pull his hand away, actually putting the second hand on her hip. Those hands would spin her, slowly, to face her.

She looked up into his nearly glowing eyes. She was close enough to smell his masculine scent and it made her almost lightheaded. Her breathing became erratic again and she backed away. "No, I'm not afraid...but I think I need to sit down." Her legs all but collapsed beneath her when she found a chair.

He let her sit, frowning, thinking that her strength had not fully recovered from the tragedy. "Of course...we will break here," He said, not realizing that it was he who caused her state.

"Thank you, teacher," she breathed, not looking up at him. "I'm sorry for my weakness."

Erik shook his head. "Nonsense. you have suffered greatly." He spoke, pulling a chair closer to hers. He'd reach; taking her hand, flipping it over checking her pulse. "Your heart is racing..." He spoke, just barely beginning to put two and two together.

"I think I must have over-exerted myself." she mumbled.

Erik pulled his hand back, realizing that he had been touching her quite frequently, and that she was not recoiling at all from her. He would stand, taking a few steps away. "You should rest then. I would hate for you to revert from the progress you have made over the last few days."

She nodded and almost bolted to the safety of her room. She had never felt this before and she wondered if it was an aftereffect of the poison. She lay down in her bed, in only her shift and petticoats. Her heart was not slowing down and the heat in her belly grew and spread lower. Christine rubbed her knees together, in a strange sort of agony.

Erik followed her, stopping in the doorway, watching her lay back like that; seeing her writhing subtly in bed. It reminded him of women that he had been with, full of desire and need. As he began to realize she was so affected, he would force himself to keep his gaze down. Even if she desired him, he could never indulge her in that...It was too dangerous. She would reject him when she saw and understood his true nature.

Christine didn't know that he followed her. If she had, she would have been mortified! However, as it was, she was lost in her own thoughts and pressed the palm of her hand against the fabric of the petticoat at the mound of her sex.

Erik watched, guiltily. Leaning hard against the door frame, he watched, tormented by his desire for her, knowing all the while just how forbidden she as for him.

Christine bit her lip and bucked up a few times into her hand. She did not stray farther, but enjoyed the sensation for a few minutes before rolling over, her back to the door, attempting to fall asleep

He would pull away, returning to his room; sleeping, poorly.

~o~

The next few days passed with a lingering sexual tension. She studied, she lived with him; eating, bathing, sleeping. She touched him far more than he was used to, or was even comfortable with. Finally, after the second day of this, he could take it no more. He waited for her to retire for the night, and finally would retreat into his room. He disrobed, and began to satisfy himself, making low groans as he did this.

Not too far away, Christine heard a small groan, followed by another. She was in her room, reading a book on theatrical diction, waiting for her body to feel drowsy enough for sleep. However, the unexpected noise had her rising from her bed and exploring.

It was coming from Erik's bedroom. Her heart stuttered for a moment as she thought something might be wrong. However, the groans came infrequently and did not grow in urgency. She slowly padded to the curtain to the entrance of his room. A louder grunt prompted her to peek descretely behind it. What she saw had her rearing back in shock. He had not seen her and was continuing his ministrations, so Christine walked back to where the curtain had parted and snuck another peek.

He was reclined in bed, nude. He was well built, clearly having to take care of most of the physical work and maintenance of the lair himself. He was also hard, throbbing even, sizable without being comical. The mask, of course, as still on. He was stroking himself, writhing faintly, the groans becoming more frantic as he approached his climax. Finally, he would explode, moaning out a word; a name.

"Ch...Christine..." He gasped, as white fluid coated his hand and body as he finished.

She gasped and flew back once more. He was breathtakingly gorgeous. She of course had seen nude men before, but never someone she was attracted to and she had never seen one pleasure themself. She quietly ran back to her room, trying to calm her heart.

The next morning Christine woke up with a new sense of purpose. She had heard him speak her name. There was no denying it. He wanted her too. She'd just have to show him that his advances would not be ignored.