His Precious Flower

Chapter 4

Dimitri POV

Walking to the first level of raised chairs, I take a seat on the old red fabric.

I'll have to buy all new seats. These are raggedy.

Pushing business away from my mind, I look over the crowd to see only a few hundred people in

attendance.

Pathetic.

Finding the lack of people in my new theatre on show night depressing, I let my mind wanders to

the encounter before hand.

So that was Flavia.

She was more beautiful than I could have imagined.

Anger consumes me when I think of the blonde girl in the hallway who was talking ill of her.

Her only argument was that she didn't look or perform as a good dancer should.

Bullshit.

Flavia was small and petite like any good ballerina. Sure she was more curvy and had a filled

bust, but her waist was the same size as all the other dancers.

The others were flat chested and stick thin, but little Flavia's body doesn't seem to work the same

way.

I suppose I'll be the judge of her dancing tonight though.

I can't imagine she'd be a part of the play if she wasn't any good.

Withing four minutes, the lights have dimmed and the music has started, creating a sense of

euphoria in the audience.

The upbeat piano playing is joined by a single dancer when the curtain pulls back, and I come to

notice that it's Flavia.

Her filled white tule skirt flows around her as she prances across the stage with an ease I've only

seen in a few ballets before.

A man comes on stage next and by the looks of it, he's probably meant to be the grandfather in

the nutcracker.

Does this mean?

Flavia is the lead!

I smile realizing the b***h in the hall was only jealous.

As I watch her steal hearts on the stage, I notice her performing one of the spins from the

practice room.

The one I stopped, but this time she is able to twirl all the way through.

As her body turns in quick sircles, the white skirt lifts and curves around her artfully.

It almost looks as if she's a flower.

Yes, the petals of a perfect rose in the midst of it's bloom.

When she finally comes to a stop, she joins her movements in succession with the grandfather

and they leap together as other dancers take their positions on stage.

All is well and Flavia prepares to do a grand jete, her body flying high and her legs raising to do

a split. She hits the movement perfectly, but when her feet hit the ground again she goes back

into another of her perfect spins and her hairband falls out, making all of her waist length inky

black hair tumble around her form in waves.

I stare at the breathtaking woman with wide eyes and wonder how anyone could ever tie that hair

up or put makeup on her lovely heart shaped face.

And she's mine for a year...

My thoughts cut short when I realize she only works for me.

She isn't truly mine. Yet...

I scrutinize her short stature and limber body, deciding she would be the perfect submissive.

She's small. She beautiful. What more could I need to meet the requirement for an acceptable

submissive.

The others were fake submissives. They didn't understand what it meant. Many of the girls

pretended they were babies, unaware that it was a role play lifestyle and not an actual

personality. They portrayed it as a mental disorder and only acted as themselves when they

thought they had a say in things.

It was sad. It was dissapointing.

But Flavia, my flower will be different.

Down to her very looks, I can tell she will be the perfect submissive.

All I have to do is figure out how to make this work.