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While my wife and I were certainly supporters of the performing arts when she was alive, I would not have necessarily put us in the “patron” classification. However, due to her and my daughter’s untimely and unfortunate deaths in an auto accident, the charitable foundation that I was able to establish with the various insurance settlements enabled me to offer financial support, as well as other-source fund raising help that garnered me some level of notoriety. It also meant that all number of programs were reaching out to me for funding, and I had a never-ending list of demonstrations to observe. One of these was a ballet demonstration for a training academy. What made it different was that it was for older students who were just taking up ballet; not the typical eight and nine-year old beginners. I, along with representatives from several other performing arts funding foundations, had been invited to their spring recital, in the hopes that one or more of the foundations would agree to provide continuing funding. Now, I am the first to admit that I am no fan of ballet. But, my wife and daughter enjoyed it, so I felt obligated to sit through the performance. The first thing that I noticed was that many of the girls weren’t girls at all; they were high-school and college age, with a few even older. But, while they were older, the recital was still very reminiscent of the ones that I watched my own daughter try to get through without disappointing “Madame.” There must be a law that every ballet instructor’s name is “Madame.” In this case, “Madame Tyser” was a rather unfriendly looking person, and her glare froze her students in their tracks like deer in headlights. She walked around with this stick that she used to tap out a rhythm or beat that the “girls” executed their moves to. You could tell by the scowl on her face that she wasn’t pleased with Bostancı Escort anyone’s performance this afternoon; but one girl in particular earned more than her fair share of icy bullets. According to the program, her name was Lisa. I say “girl” because based on the program, Lisa was eighteen and in her first year at the local community college. She was taking ballet to improve her dancing ability for other types of dance, and was in her first year at the ballet academy. But I didn’t need to see the program to know that this dancer was post-puberty. She was a cute brunette, about five-foot seven, thin like most ballet students, and had a nice pair of what looked like 36B breasts with nipples which, un-aroused, were still plainly visible through the top of her leotard. Complementing her top was a nicely plumped rear atop two coltish legs that moved most provocatively when she walked. But, her most striking physical feature was a very prominent mons. I’m not talking camel-toe. She just had a very full, protruding Venus-mound, clearly shaved bare, that like her nipples, even the double material of a leotard and tights could not hide. And while there was certainly nothing erotic about her rather bumbling attempt at dance, I was nonetheless visually attracted to the sight. Apparently I wasn’t the only one; every man in the room appeared to have their eyes glued to either her crotch or her tits. Unfortunately, Madame Tyser noticed. Once the recital ended, parents and family mingled with the dancers, the school staff, and the variety of foundation representatives. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lisa forlornly standing off to the side, alone. I guess that she had no family there to watch, and I felt kind of bad for her. I had made it half-way across the room, intending to make small talk to cheer her up, when Bostancı Escort Bayan Madame Tyser walked over to her, stick in hand, grabbed her by the arm, and pulled her behind a screen that had been set up for the dancers to use to enter and exit the make-shift stage. I could hear what sounded like stern words, and moved in closer to try to overhear. As I stopped, I realized that the screen was in front of, and parallel to, the mirrored wall that all dance studios have. From where I stood, I could actually see Lisa and Madame Tyser reflected in the mirror; in addition to being able to hear what was being said. Lisa appeared to be on the verge of tears. “Plié!” Madame barked. Lisa kept her feet together as she lowered herself, bending at the knees as she spread her legs out to the sides. “Now hold!” Lisa grabbed the barre to steady herself. Madame started tapping Lisa’s pubic mound with her stick. I could see Lisa wincing. “What have I told you about this? Flaunting your private parts like this. It is vulgar!” “I can’t help the way I am built, Madame Tyser,” Lisa moaned, as she suffered the unending cadence being tapped out on her junction. “And these, what have I said about these?” she snarled, relocating her aim to the poor girls nipples; steadily rapping them with the tip of her stick until they had hardened, making them even more obvious than they already were. “Your choice of leotard was poor. At the least, you should have worn the shields that I have provided. Your body parts should not be a distraction. How often must I mention this?” “I am so sorry, Madame Tyser. I forgot them. I promise it will not happen again.” “I have heard these promises from you before. But, at least in the privacy of our sessions, there was no audience. Today you embarrassed me, you embarrassed the program, and Escort Bostancı you embarrassed yourself. You must be punished. What did I tell you would happen the next time we had this discussion?” “Oh, please, no!” the girl pleaded, tears running down her cheeks. “If I do not punish you, you will not learn. Bend over and grab the barre. Now!” Lisa turned to face the mirror, grabbing the barre so hard that her knuckles turned white. She bent at slightly at the waist. “Bend further,” Madame Tyser ordered, tapping her stick against Lisa’s derrière. “Farther…farther…that’s good. Now keep your feet together. Do not move until I tell you. Stepping to the side, Madame swung back the stick and then brought it down sharply across the middle of the soft, rounded target. “THWACK!” I heard Lisa hiss between gritted teeth. Another fifteen hard blows were delivered in rapid succession, each acknowledged by the same hissing sound, but nothing else. Because of the angle of the mirror, I was able to see the blows as they struck. Madame then stopped. “You may stand up and leave. The next time it will be fifty. And cover those nipples!” I then noticed that despite the “caning”, as it were, Lisa’s nipples were still hard and sticking out. It was at that moment that Lisa looked in the mirror and saw that I had been watching. Embarrassed, she covered her breasts with her hands and ran from behind the screen to the stairwell. While several people noticed her dash for the door, luckily, no one appeared to know what was going on, or that I was a more than an uninterested spectator. Those that did notice her dash went back about what they were doing, while Madame Tyser, now all smiles, came out from behind the screen to schmooze with the parents and foundation reps. I waited a cautious amount of time, then ducked into the stairwell myself. I heard soft sobbing, but could not immediately determine if it was coming from above or below the floor I was on. I softly called out Lisa’s name. The sobbing stopped. There was a pause, and then, “Who’s there?” “I’m Mr. Apiary. Britt Apiary. I was the one you saw in the mirror. I came to see how you are doing.” The sobbing resumed.
Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32