Tall Sophie Ch. 06

Thursday (continued)

Tom pulled into his driveway a few minutes before 8:00 pm and noticed the absence of Lauren's Camry. He wanted to talk to his daughter about what had just happened, at least the part about the beatdown he witnessed. She was the only person he could discuss it with. The bus was probably delayed dropping the team at school.

He looked at the time and grew anxious as he had to start his Peloton class soon. Sophie would notice if he arrived late, and after what he saw earlier he was even more fearful of crossing her. He texted his wife to tell her he was home but would be in the guest cottage exercising and catching up on work, and not to wait up for him. He didn't want her to see his bruised face, at least not until he could discuss with Lauren and agree an explanation. He texted Lauren to meet him at the cottage when she arrived home. Finally, he grabbed his computer bag and the sweatshirt Sophie had forgotten, then walked across the lawn to the outbuilding that contained his office and fitness room.

He reflected on the incredible events of the evening as he breathed in the crisp night air. As the sole parent from Oak Heights to attend the away volleyball match, he had found himself defending the team against a nasty heckler. The man had called Lauren's friend Sophie a whore and Tom had lost his temper. He attacked the man recklessly and ended up on his back with a large welt on his temple, followed by an unceremonious removal from the gym. After the game, the man returned and threatened him and Lauren in the parking lot. That's when Sophie appeared and proceeded to pummel the man with a jaw-dropping martial arts display.

Oh Sophie, Tom sighed to himself. He loved and feared her with a passion he had never felt for a person before. The 6'5" volleyball star was a true goddess in every sense of the word. She had the most beautiful face he had ever laid eyes on, and an amazingly toned and shapely figure to match. She exuded intelligence, everything seemed to come easy to her - school, athletics, music, you name it. Despite being a Ph.D. economist, Tom felt intellectually inadequate in her presence as she exhibited an ingenious wit in her speech and a deep emotional intuition that enabled her to pull at his heart strings and control his orgasms. He had learned to hang on her every word to not miss the cloaked layers of meaning she nearly always incorporated. Her staggering physical strength had been a massive turn-on for him from the moment he met her. He longed for the weightless feeling he experienced when she lifted him off his feet.

And now he had watched her beat up a man who had already beaten him. Not just beat up. She literally mauled him. Effortlessly. The guy didn't stand a chance. She could have killed him if she had wanted. She almost appeared ready to for a moment. Her absolute power terrified Tom, but he was also deeply thankful that she used it to save him and Lauren, who the man had threatened to rape once he finished thrashing Tom.

He still couldn't get his head around the sudden juxtaposition of battle angel Sophie and the sensual being who jacked him off shortly after beating Brad, the would-be assailant. As he entered the cottage, Tom took a deep breath and smelled Sophie's scent on his face. She had mashed it into her sweaty armpit and then held it to her spandex-covered pussy as she urgently rubbed herself off on his skull.

He thought to himself. What had turned her on so much? Was it the act of violence itself? Or the act of protecting him? Or maybe his complete and total submission to her after the display of ferocity? Whatever it was, he had never seen her so electrified. He yearned to submit to her again, to feel her getting off on his surrender.

He took off his cum-soaked pants and quickly donned exercise clothes and cycling shoes, then hopped on the Peloton. He managed to start the class Sophie had assigned him exactly on the hour and could feel the tension leave his body as the pedaling began. He was relieved to make it on time, but he had also begun to find the rides cathartic and cleansing. Within seconds a request to video chat popped up on the screen.

"Do not tell Lauren what you saw tonight," Sophie said immediately as her gorgeous face appeared in a window looking dead serious. "If she asks, you'll say that I held him still while we talked it out. That he eventually calmed down and we all walked away."

"But wouldn't someone have found him on the ground or at least seen how mangled he was when he got home?" Tom asked incredulously. "And I still don't understand how you did that so easily."

"As far as you're concerned, he was fine when you left him," she spoke in a measured and decisive tone. "Anyone else besides Lauren, not a word. Nothing happened after the game. Gotta go."

Tom tried to speak but the window disappeared. Almost immediately, Lauren walked into the room with a look of relief that quickly turned to frustration.

"What the hell happened after I walked away? Sophie wouldn't tell me anything, she wouldn't even sit with me on the bus!"

Tom had no time to digest and question Sophie's commands, so he blindly followed her lead.

"We managed to talk him down. You know Sophie, she's really good at saying the right thing. We all walked away calmly," Tom kept his eyes on the screen, he had never lied to his daughter before. "He's still a total asshole but at least nothing else happened."

"That's bullshit and you know it, Dad," Lauren replied with an icy stare. "No way that sicko was backing down. And Sophie's like some advanced degree of black belt in Taekwondo. I'm sure she could have kicked his ass. The guy couldn't even move from that chokehold! You saw it."

"Honey, calm down," Tom did his best to keep a straight face, desperately wanting to tell her the truth. "It's all okay, he's not going to hurt us. Let's just let it lie."

Lauren shrugged her shoulders and gave an audible harumph.

"By the way, what do you think we should tell mom about my bruise?" he asked, trying to shift topics. "I just want to make sure we have our stories straight."

"Tell her whatever the hell you want, I'm not bringing it up. And I'll get Sophie to tell me what happened," Lauren responded with exasperation. "You know you've been acting really different these past couple months. I don't get it. I used to feel like we could tell each other anything."

Tom was struck with sadness as his only child's words pierced at his heart. He looked up from the screen and started to respond, then cut himself short.

"And you totally stink, you really need a shower," Lauren added wrinkling her nose. She turned and walked out in a huff with a flip of her ponytail.

Tom took a deep breath and refocused on the ride as it entered an intense phase. He noticed that the bruised part of his head began to throb with each heartbeat as his pace increased. He thought about Sophie's scent emanating from his face. It sounded crazy to think she had marked him like an alpha wolf claiming its territory, but he truly believed she had. He was her beta bitch. He couldn't remember a time he hadn't followed her lead. Reality felt distorted when he was with her, as if he were somehow under a spell. Increasingly, he could feel her power over him even when they weren't together. He had just lied to his daughter on her command. What else would he do? Or wouldn't he do?

Kendall Toole's "20-Minute Movie Buff" ride was more than half over when "The Time of My Life" from "Dirty Dancing" came on. The song always made him think of grade school Lauren. They had learned the final dance sequence together, right down to "the lift" to perform at a talent show. A few parents found the context inappropriate, but it was just innocent fun. Lauren and him had probably watched the movie a hundred times. He felt a moment of regret for his earlier deceit, and because he knew he would be physically incapable of ever lifting Lauren like that again. He missed those days.

As the track finished, Berlin's "Take My Breath Away" from "Top Gun" came on. He was reminded of Sophie teasing that she would get it on with Tom Cruise even though he was shorter and older, while insinuating the Tom standing in front of her had aged poorly in comparison. So much had happened since then. Yet he still relished her humiliation of him. She demonstrated her superiority in endless ways.

He thought of how she made him cum with a light stroke of her fingertips. It was as if she could read his mind and feel his level of arousal, even more clearly than he could feel it himself. It was tantalizingly shameful that she could extract his cum with so little effort. He usually felt like he could control the moment of release, yet she took that control away from him and turned it into a breathtaking surprise. He thought of how she looked in his eyes and could discern that he was telling the truth about being a "good boy" and not ejaculating earlier that day. How could an 18-year-old girl be so perceptive? She was practically omniscient.

The ride ended and he began his floor exercises. Sophie had added a goal column so he knew how many reps or how long to perform for each. It had felt impossible at first, but his body was adjusting, and he was making real progress. In addition to the workout plan, she had also instructed him to track his calories and gave him a menu for what and how much to eat at each meal. He had been ravenously hungry the first couple days, but lately his pangs had subsided.

As he held a steady plank, he thought of what she said before the game. She told him to cheer until his head hurt, then that she wanted to show him something that would blow his mind. His head indeed got hurt after he cheered for her and the team. Was the beatdown what she meant to show him? His body became even more rigid. Had the whole evening been premeditated? How could she have known he would start a fight with the heckler? Was he the bait so she had a pretense to pulverize Brad? It seemed so improbable, yet he had learned to read into her carefully chosen words.

Upon finishing the routine, he pulled out his laptop and entered his totals into the shared Google sheet she had made for him, including his calorie count from the day. His stomach fluttered as he got to the ejaculation line that she had wickedly slipped in to track and limit his orgasms. He thought of her fingers lightly stroking the bottom of his cock to eruption earlier as he entered 1, filling his quota for the day. Then he stripped off his clothes and went to the bathroom to weigh in.

The digital scale he had moved to the cottage displayed 199. He had started at 214. He was amazed at how much progress he had made in such a short time. He returned to the desk and entered the value into the spreadsheet. He started toward the bathroom to shower and suddenly had a second thought: He didn't want to wash her off.

He stood nude in the room for a moment, breathing in her essence on his face. He shivered from the chill of sweat evaporating from his body. Then he spotted the Le Coq Sportif hoodie sweatshirt she had left on the ground. He briefly thought of her pulling it off over her head after she dispatched with the heckler, her muscular body in silhouette as she walked toward him.

He picked up the sweatshirt and slipped it on, pulling the hood around his head. He breathed in and immediately felt weak-kneed. He flashed back to standing in front of her, his head engulfed between her luscious breasts as he hugged himself to her, his arms resting on her powerful ass. Her scent had been remarkably intense, yet so soothing.

Surprisingly, the sweatshirt fit his upper body, although his hands didn't make it out of the long sleeves and the bottom hung well below his waist. His cock had become erect and he looked down to see a tent forming through the thick cotton. He bunched up the sleeves so his hands came through.

He was still overwhelmed by how easily she destroyed Brad, who was not a small or weak man. She had truly blown his mind, his circuits rendered unable to compute. He felt so helpless and awestruck. Thoughts of her smooth and powerful motions permeated his head. So graceful yet so brutal. He worried that one day she would do the same to him. Would he even try to fight back? Or would he willingly submit, knowing his incapacity to oppose her; perhaps even trusting and accepting her reason for hurting him?

He lay down on the bed and curled his knees up into the long sweatshirt, practically in a fetal position. He was afraid of her. But he needed her. He wanted to be close to her again. As he lay breathing her in, he began to relax, the high of his recent exertion combining with the bliss of submission.

His reverie was interrupted by a nagging feeling that he had forgotten something. What was it? He recalled her pulling his head to her face as his feet barely touched the ground. She asked him if he was a good boy today. He had a moment of doubt...because he had almost jerked off to a short video she sent him...clipped from a longer video she said she would send him if he was a good boy and came that night!

Tom jumped up from the bed and checked his email on his laptop. He had a message from a nondescript gmail address of seemingly random numbers and letters. It had arrived only a minute before. The message contained a web link and nothing else. He clicked and was prompted to install a video player plug-in. The download was somewhat large and he stared at the percentage bar as the seconds ticked by. When it was finally complete, the video began streaming.

It opened with Sophie's face and bulging white sports bra in view, captured by her laptop camera. Tom quickly reached in his desk drawer and pulled out the plastic bag containing the silky bra Sophie had sent him. He ripped open the bag and pulled it out, then immediately wrapped it around his cock. The edges were frayed from the many times he had used it to beat off, but he had been careful to not finish into it. He didn't want to ever wash the delicate fabric scented with Her.

He moved to the bed and set the laptop on a pillow so he could lay and stroke. He was excited to relive one of the most amazing episodes of his life. He watched his weak attempts at massaging her shoulders and registered her subtle humiliating verbal jabs. He saw the slight bounce of her breasts as he tugged at her bra straps while pressing into her neck muscles. He listened to her trick him into admitting his perverted inspection of the clothes she had left in the bathroom.

The whole time he slowly stroked himself. In the past week he had grown adept at holding his arousal on edge for hours on end. She had limited his ejaculations - but she never said anything about playing with himself.

Tom watched as he moved in front of her to massage her feet and she flipped to the rear-facing camera. When she placed a foot on his face, Tom turned his head and breathed in the hood of the sweatshirt. He felt surrounded by her, like when he was engulfed in her breasts a couple hours earlier. He became entranced when she lifted him off the ground, over and over with one leg. She was so powerful, yet so gentle and sensual with him. It was the greatest porno he had ever watched. And he was the star.

When it reached the point where she grabbed his cock between her feet, he had to stop stroking for fear of cumming. The laptop camera angled down and he recognized the faceless sequence she had clipped of him slowly humping between her feet. Then he listened intently to her cunning words as she challenged him about not wanting to buy a Peloton, when she was really challenging him to ask to fuck her feet. Tom only now appreciated the brilliance of her deception. He could see the beginnings of his training, not in the physical sense of working out, but in bringing him to submission. She had begun by teaching him to ask her permission to act on his sexual impulses. Barely a week later she had taken complete control of his orgasms.

When he finally seemed to acquiesce to the Peloton purchase she set her computer aside, but it was still recording, aimed intentionally at her feet and knees. Tom again had to stop touching himself when Sophie teased that she didn't have any underwear below her shorts and spread her legs to reveal her wetness. He breathed in and could smell her pussy on his face. He lay with his hands at his sides as he watched her finally allow him to pump between her toes, holding his face to hers. He remembered breathing in her breath earlier that night as her forehead and nose mashed into his. Laying on the bed, he felt like his whole body lit on fire and he began sweating profusely inside the thick sweatshirt.

The finale came and he watched himself rabbit-humping her toes to orgasm. He looked pathetic, but it was perfect. Then Lauren's voice pierced his moment of post-orgasmic bliss. He watched himself jump up to run from the room.

Tom's eyes flashed to the playback bar and oddly there were still several minutes left, so he kept watching and resumed stroking. Sophie picked up the laptop and he saw his living room. The view suddenly flipped to the front-facing camera. The computer was positioned between her partly spread legs, aimed directly at the wet spot in the pantyless crotch of her white spandex shorts. Sophie's face was out of view, but he could hear her telling Lauren about the Peloton. Then how she was still wet and needed to change. There was a brief pause as Lauren left to go upstairs and collect papers from the printer.

Sophie's legs spread and the white shorts suddenly bulged as she stuffed her fingers below the waistband and touched her sex. Tom recalled something she had written about using her own digits because they would be better than he could offer. She wasn't exaggerating. With a short burst of quick strokes her body tensed up.

"Aaaahhhh," she sighed, almost exactly how she had earlier that night as she fucked his face.

Tom felt a burst of pride that she had been turned on enough to cum immediately. She sat still for a moment, then abruptly pulled her hand from her shorts and stood up, carrying the laptop along with her. She walked across the room with her face bobbing on camera with each step. Her journey ended in the lavatory where she set down the laptop facing her, probably on the window sill. As she closed the door, Tom could see the hot pink sweater and jeans hanging on the hook.

Sophie turned her back to the camera and stood fully in view from the tops of her thighs. Her arms crossed and pulled the white sports bra over her head, revealing her bare, blemish-free back. Then she held her right hand over her left breast and pivoted to look at the camera, half of a huge, compressed boob in view from the side. She winked suggestively and sucked a finger on her left hand into her mouth, ostensibly the one she just rubbed herself off with. She closed her eyes and sighed hungrily.

"Mmmmm."

Next she bent over and stripped her shorts off, her beautiful bare ass fully in view. There was no jiggle - it was all muscle. She stood again and tipped her head back, letting her long light brown hair flow down over her back, touching the top of her ass. He looked for her thigh gap and the treasure within, but she was turned slightly, obscuring his view. She raised her arms and flexed her biceps. Tom could see the grapefruit-sized bulges on her arms. The muscles throughout her shoulders and backside rippled in concert. She leaned forward slightly and her torso suddenly widened, like a cobra's hood, her lats fully engorged. He remembered trying to dribble around her in basketball that day, how she had become a mountain in his path. Then she turned her head to the side, one eye looking at the camera. Her lip curled. He leaned close to the screen, practically praying that she would turn and finally reveal her bare breasts to him.