One of my favourite re-occurring fantasies is to suffer through piano lessons held by a strict tutor, who would alternate between slapping my palms with his ruler (because piano teachers all have rulers, of course), taking me over his knee for a bare-bottom spanking, and making me bend over with my hands on the piano stool for six of the best. Not if I played well, obviously.
So, you can imagine, I got quite a jolt out of discovering the existence of the movie “The 5000 Fingers of Dr. T”, which features (according to Wikipedia) –
the surreal Terwilliker Institute, where the piano teacher is now a madman dictator who has locked up all non-piano-playing musicians in a dungeon and constructed a piano so large that it requires Bart and 499 other enslaved boys (the aforementioned 5,000 fingers) in order to play it.
…But does he spank them? Does he smack their hands with a ruler? Does he? Does he?
The piano teacher fantasy never really leaves me – I have had that fantasy all my life, and I sometimes daydream during concerts now as to more public spankings, on the stage, say, during a rehearsal. Another variation on the theme for me is the ballet master. If the dancer makes too many mistakes in rehearsal, she has to stay behind whilst all the other girls have been sent to the changerooms. Options are over his knee, or bent over the warm up bar. For variety, I also fantasize about an actress who has caused her director grief one time too many. As she storms out and goes to her dressing room, this time he follows, and not to pacify her. No, not this time. Today she is getting her pants spanked off!!!
LOL, that description sounds like a joke!
I never took piano lessons but my girlfriend back in (then) USSR did, and she said that’s what happened to her a bunch. I think it may have been a norm. I remember being very appalled by that.
Now, as to being caned or tawsed with hands on the piano bench – I am with you on that one. That happens to me on the regular basis, in fact, just last night… It’s great, the piano bench… My husband also likes me climbing on it on all fours and then says that it’s like a work of art on a pedestal… Gives him access to feet, too, if he ever got one of those ideas. I have to say that because of the arched back the caning hurts terribly (more terribly than usual) in that position. I prefer just what you’ve described better.
Rob – Glad to hear you share my love of art tutors.
I have the ballet fantasy as well, but I’ve never done ballet, so it’s not as bright in my mind as the piano and the singing, which I *have* done. Minus the spanking 😉
Amber – I’ve gone through the good old Soviet music school, and while getting screamed at for an hour was very much the norm, nobody had as much as waved a ruler at me. *sniff*
I wonder if the friend had a private tutor, those could be mean too. But she wasn’t joking at all. She was a big piano player in our college, I guess.
Haron, I am so curious how you managed to pay for getting a Ph.D. in Law in England! You’ve mentioned somewhere that you’ve paid for it yourself. Are you parents some of those few privileged people who can afford that? Or did you work for it somehow? I had a girlfriend whose dad was someone very important in her town in Belarus (at that!), a college roommate, in fact, but even her and her sister got all of their school paid by wherever scholarships and fellowships come from – both grad and undergrad. The same is true for every single one of my friends, most of whom have grad degree from US or Western Europe. And I am talking nice, well-known schools. My family never had much means so I also got my 4 years in American college paid by a scholarship from a private foundation, including room, board and books – otherwise I would have never made it.
So how did you get the chance to pay for your law school degree? As far as I understand, Abel wasn’t around for all of that time…
Huh? I couldn’t dream of paying for the whole thing myself; I had a research scholarship that covered most of it.
Though, I have to say, tuition in the UK doesn’t cost anything as much as it does in the US, so even without the scholarship, I could have probably coped by getting an extra job.
Oh, I am sorry – that makes perfect sense – I guess I read something wrong…
Never having had piano lessons, one of my favourite adolescent fantasies centred on my swimming coach. He was this wiry, weather-beaten type in a tracksuit who used to stalk up and down the side of the pool, shouting and blowing his whistle at everyone.* He always carried a leather strap, and if you were too slow or your turns weren’t up to scratch he’d call you out. Then you’d have to finish that length, clamber out and wait, shivering, for him to get back down to your end of the pool. He’d always make you touch your toes. It was usually only two or three licks but he hit pretty hard, and you’d definitely know about them through a wet swimming costume.
Of course, he’d watch you pretty closely after that and if he thought you hadn’t been suitably encouraged, you’d be due a ‘talk’ in the changing rooms afterwards.
Happy days.
* Entirely true up to this point…
Wonderfully evocative comment, Jo
(Sitting here wondering how on earth I could engineer a a situation in which I could spank a wet Haron with a strap at the end of a swimming pool…. I don’t think our local leisure club would necessarily approve!)
Mmmm, Jo, I do like that.
Not sure about recreating the scene at our pool, but the fantasy is *so* very nice!
Jo, I also incorporate real events into fantasies. When my husband was very young, on really hot days, he and his siblings would be let off the bus at the front gate where there was a dam. They weren’t allowed to swim in it b/c it was so dangerous, but they did, thinking that their father didn’t know. One day, he came tearing down the track on his motorbike and caught them. They saw him coming and ran towards the house. Unfortunately for them he had a long switch in his hand, he had cut off a tree on his way. The boys ran the fastest so they were OK, says his sister, but being the slowest runner, she claims to this day that she got the brunt of it, as her Dad rode beside her, wacking away at her bottom. I use this in a fantasy, whereby I live on an estate in the oountry, and I have a tutor. If classes haven’t gone well, one punishment is to run to the front gate (can be miles here in Aussie), and back, and if I’m not fast enough for him, he comes along beside me on a motorbike with a piece of bamboo (or similar) giving me motivation to run faster. Sometimes I think I’m even too kinky for me!!
Ah Rob, a fellow Aussie. There’s nothing like a sun-lovin’ healthy active sporting Ozzie girl! Yes, the run to the gate sounds fine. But how does this sound for athletics training? A run around the oval at night, you with no knickers, and the bloke with a switch running behind you, giving those buns a good lick every time you slowed down? This is something the Sports Association could look at. I’d bet you’d be breaking your PB in no time?
On the subject of piano lessons. When I was at primary school years and years ago in a small Ozzy town which shall remain nameless, our teacher Mrs Cardiman used the ruler on the hands of the boys and girls. One new boy, asked to put out his hand for the first time, gave Mrs C a note from his bag which she read with interest. Apparently, new boy was a child prodigy! A piano player who was destined to become a great virtuoso. Very well, she said Cedric, over my knee. You can have it that way instead! The whole class laughed with joy.
He had no choice, but as the little genius approached her about to spread himself over her knee, she said “Oh, Cedric, you know, the other boys and girls don’t wear gloves when they get the ruler! You can guess the rest, bare bummed, in front of the class. After that experience, he decided he really could take his medicine just the way the others did!
Dear Keith T., Welcome! Another Aussie to talk to – what joy! Look over at The Punishment Book, at the post called “What Now?” and you will read about the link between spanking and exercise. Yes indeed – you are on the right track!!! Hope we hear more from you……
Boy, are all of these stories true? *looking on in awe*
As to the running part, I don’t like to be chased with the cane, even on the run upstairs, makes me feel like a goose and I know about chasing geese with a switch first hand. In fact, I still remember cutting down switches in the orchard and making up excuses in my head that I was cutting them down for the geese, in case someone showed up and caught me.
Amber: Yes indeed, these stories are true – we are made of true grit down here in Aussie – it is one of our redeeming features! Speaking of redeeming features, you are a hoot – great value, loads of fun, even if you are from the barbarian country!! LOL