Maestro or Master Pt. 01

Master Meridon couldn't help but see the outline of my body as I walked across the room to take my place. I felt his eyes pursuing me and as always I thoroughly enjoyed it. His crisp black shirt, perfectly tailored slacks added a dimension to his persona that exuded influence, expected respect.

"You have a lovely way of walking Miss Chapwell. Just enough sway to force my eyes to follow you. I suspect that you rather enjoy a gentleman's gaze?"

I had to smile. "Thank you Master Meridon. I would be less than honest if I didn't admit I do enjoy a handsome man appreciating me."

"There are many reasons I chose to tutor you Miss Chapwell, the least of which is that you are quite easy on this man's eyes."

"And what pray tell are some of the many reason's Master Meridon?" The dance had begun.

"If taking the opportunity to spend time with a student wouldn't it make complete sense to choose a student who added many scopes to the equation?" He left so many possibilities' in my mind. This was going to be even more enticing than I could have expected.

Sitting at the piano the hem of my dress rose above my knees. Barely but conspicuously exposing my thighs which pulled his eyes in. Ever the temptress I sat straight up thrusting my breasts higher. Yes, I was teasing him without any shame or ambiguity.

It was suddenly apparent that his request that I wear a dress or skirt had a definite purpose. I could see that Master Meridon was enthralled with the shape of my legs as his gaze moved shamelessly along the curves and contours of my slender ankles. An extra second admiring sharp calves and supple thighs. This was undeniably becoming a very sensual exchange.

"You have wonderful posture Miss Chapwell. Your back is straight and your arms move across your breasts without causing you to round out your shoulders. This is imperative when you're required to reach the full expanse of the keys. You may see this as insignificant. Truthfully, it's just another reason that I selected you as my protégé so to speak. A woman's body can be restricting. It can be difficult to maneuver when playing. Now, please place your hands on the keys and keep your wrists extended and raised above the keys. This positioning gives you the agility you'll need as well as strengthen the muscles in both your forearms and upper arms. This is imperative when playing for any length of time."

I was finding it very easy to like Master Meridon. He spoke softly and continually made eye contact with me. Unless he was looking at my body. He appreciated the view no doubt. I've enjoyed the gaze of enough men to recognize that what their eyes took in their minds often added enough familiarity to shall I say, visualize more. The thin cotton dress allowed him to see more than he would have imagined. It appeared he was very attracted to my breasts; his gaze was intense. I liked it, I liked it very much.

"Hand posture and comfort are vitally important while playing the piano. Poor hand posture can cause your performance to suffer for two reasons. If your hands are in tight, awkward positions, you can't access the keys quickly and efficiently. Your performance will sound clumsy and be full of wrong notes. If your hands cramp often, you won't practice often. If you don't practice often, you won't be a very good player."

It suddenly dawned on me that playing the piano was very much like playing with a woman, or a man for that matter. Hand position, posture, ability to access the body efficiently.

"When you place your hands on the keys you must keep your hands arched and your fingers slightly curled at all times. It feels strange at first. You can't improve your playing technique until you get used to holding the hands this way. Arching your hands and fingers pays off with the following benefits. Your hands don't get tired as quickly. Your hands are less likely to cramp. You can quickly access any key, black or white efficiently."

"Of course Master Meridon."

I was listening to every word he was saying but my thoughts were drifting into another realm. In my mind, he was explaining how to touch, feel, excite.

"Correct fingering, using the best finger to play each note of a song is always a very important part of piano playing. Some pieces, even the easy ones, have fingerings marked in the sheet music. These fingerings help you plan which fingers to use to execute a particular musical passage most efficiently and comfortably."

Although I was following his instructional phrasing regarding playing I couldn't control the images that were popping in and out of my mind that were irrelevant yet very vivid. There were very few moments when I can honestly admit that I was focused and not fantasizing.

"Yes, I can see how correct fingering is essential to playing." I had a different image regarding fingering but felt it best to refrain from sharing. I was sure that the correct finger, placed precisely, would no doubt create beautiful music.

"The fingerings you see in music correspond to the left- and right-hand fingering you see. Think of your fingers as being numbered 1 through 5. Begin with the thumb as number 1 and move towards the little finger, or pinkie. While you get used to thinking of your fingers in terms of numbers, you may find it helpful to write these numbers on your hands. I advise using non-permanent markers or fingernail polish otherwise you'll have to explain those numbered fingers to your date on Friday night, your boss on Monday morning. You do date don't you Miss Chapwell, or are you a married or perhaps spoken for woman?"

Very clever Master Meridon.

"No, I'm not married or currently spoken for. Yes, I do date if there were someone I was interested in spending time with. Before you ask, I am self-sufficient and self-employed which affords me the ability to make my own schedule."

"Ahhhh, that's very interesting. You can spend as many hours as necessary with me?"

This man was extremely shrewd and cunning. Instead of plainly asking me if I could spend unlimited time with him outright he phrased his inquiry instead as a requisite for perfect fingering. I imagined his fingers perfectly placed on or perhaps in me.

"Why yes Master Meridon, I would say that's a fair assumption." Necessary hours with his fingers dancing across my body would most definitely be interesting.

"As a beginner, you will start your musical endeavors in a seated position. No matter what kind of keyboard you play, sitting brings you closer to the keys and makes you more comfortable as you practice."

"My interests lie solely in the piano; I have no desire to play any other keyboard." I wanted the Master to know I was explicitly his. How did he phrase it? I was his protégé. Of course, I understood that once I could handle a piano keyboard I would most likely be able to play other related instruments.

My God, I could barely move my hands in unison and I was already thinking I had the experience and aptitude to play something else. No one could ever accuse me of lacking self-confidence.

"That's very important Miss Chapwell, knowing that I will be your only guidance is what I expect of you." I was beginning to believe that his expectations encompassed more than merely music as it were. Or was that wishful thinking?

"Whether sitting or standing, you should be comfortable at all times. Your feet should rest firmly on the floor. Your hands should have a nice relaxed arch to them. The keys should be at an appropriate height so that your hands and forearms are parallel to the ground. Make sure your back is straight and that you aren't slumping, slouching, or hunching over. Not sitting up straight leads to backaches, the kind that discourage you from practicing."

The thought of not having the ability to practice was daunting. "Ohhh, have no fear Master Meridon, I am more than willing to practice for hours if that's what you require me to do."

"Miss Chapwell, if you would care to simply address me as Master, that would be acceptable and preferable."

"Of course Master. I would think that you would certainly prefer to address me as Layla? That's most acceptable and preferable." My body was beginning to feel a strange excitement; Master was provoking me to imagine him in an entirely different light.

"Yes Layla, this is very much as I would like to address you. It pleases me that you're agreeable and accepting of my ... shall we say ... minor requests. In that compliance, I see that you will no doubt find that when I make a request it is simply to heighten your experience, training, grooming so to speak."

Was I being groomed? Master had a ruling personality and perhaps keenly observed my submissive nature. I am drawn to powerful, controlling men. The bonus was not only his dominance, he was an older man, a definite positive in all areas.

"I place myself in your hands Master." There ... I offered myself with total consent.

"I intend to train you as I deem it necessary for you to understand that I am in control. If you wish to become accomplished this is an agreement to follow my direction no matter the request. You may find my methods arbitrary, at times subjective and illogical, however, I will assure you, now that you have accepted that I am to be your Master you will reap indescribable pleasure and personal satisfaction, untold fulfillment."

I was becoming significantly charged, aroused and excited with the anticipation of his control and power. Sudden flashes of him in a role as more than a piano teacher were upsetting my concentration. I could feel myself beginning to flush and breathe faintly, more rapidly. Master saw the change in my demeanor and simply smiled, as if he understood what I was thinking, seeing, feeling.

He walked behind me and when I felt his hands touch my shoulders I couldn't stop the shiver or the quiet yet discernible moan. His fingers glided down my arms, grasping my hands, his body pressed up against my back as his head came lower resting his cheek on my ear.

"Now Layla, the placement of your hands and fingers, lesson one." His voice was low, his words authoritative and commanding. The warmth of his breath against my skin was sensual and his words suggestive as he continued to speak.

"The piano, the keys are like a woman's body, there to be touched and felt. How you touch them, rest your fingers on them will stimulate you, give you a feeling of pleasure just as I feel the power in my hands when I play across them. Hearing stunning sounds, creating stirring melodies, building to a crescendo, waiting for the explosion of beautiful music that fills the air. Your fingers should caress and dance across the keys, never being forceful or reckless. Each strike, every finger, creating nothing but sounds of beauty and splendor."

I couldn't speak.

His hands were covering mine, caressing my fingers and gently almost reverently placing them on the sparking white ivory keys one by one. My mind was bursting with scenarios. There an eroticism in his voice and his interpretations of creating music.

"Feeling each movement in your fingers, listening for the magic and drowning yourself in the tones and power." His words were seducing me. This was sinful. Erotic lust filled foreplay in its zenith. He was a Master of inspiration.

"You'll hear her body moan and cry out for an end to the agonizing pleasure only to continue the assault on her until you take her to the culmination, the final surge of encouragement. You'll feel her body reverberate and resonate in the beautiful timbre of her song. When she's given you every note, every all-encompassing sound, then, and only then, do you leave her in peace and rest, knowing that each time you touch her she will welcome you and beg for more."

His voice was smooth, velvety soft and lush as he whispered in my ear. The Master's passion and dedication was obvious, addicting. There was a craving that he was compelled to satisfy over and over. Touching the keys, feeling the gratification he longed for, the lust and love he found in the music.

"Feel the coolness of the keys Layla. In time, you'll breathe fire into the ivory and the onyx will sing to you. They will take you deep into the depths of your soul, tearing and clawing at the music until you feel and hear the passion you desperately long for."

Strong hands held my own down against the keys, demanding and drawing out the sound he was seeking.

"Glide over the keys, never assault them. Let them understand your gentleness and caring." This lesson was more than teaching. It was telling.

"Your reward will be how accepting she can be to your touches. She'll allow you to bask in the power you weld. You'll feel her yield to you. Your dominance will demand she submits to you and she will. Pleasing you is all she knows; all she exists for."

He was making love to his mistress. The siren that sang to him and pulled him deep into her spellbinding song. I felt his body tense. His hands moving my own across the keys, stroking and fondling, creating a low moan, a high-pitched cry and finally a soft, slow mewing of sweetness and desire fulfilled.

When the last tone drifted through the air, silence was the afterglow of the orgy. The Master sighed. Released me, quietly stepped back, satiated and spent. The abrupt end to his love making momentarily stunned me. I wanted more.

"I'd like to spend the rest of our time together this afternoon asking you some questions that will be beneficial to me in how I proceed with your instruction. It's not uncommon for me to have a glass of wine in the afternoon, would you join me?"

"Yes Master, that would be very nice."

I felt as though I had just spent the last hour being apprised of his sexual prowess. Was he sharing how he would handle a woman in his bed? If his passions were that compelling in his music I had to believe that he would be to a certain extent the Maestro in any given area of his life demanding submission from those he surrounded himself with.

"Wonderful Layla. Please, let me show you into the sitting room and we'll sit and chat for a while. I suspect that you prefer a white, would that be correct?"

"Yes Master, that is my preference."

With a smug smile and an expressive nod, the Master was already pouring before I completed my answer. He was obviously as pleased with himself as he was in my agreement to his question that was not a question at all, more of a statement of his authority.

"Here you are my dear Layla."

Handing me my glass he pointed to a pair of chairs and without a single word ushered me to sit on his right. Clearly the smaller of the two. Sitting there quietly, watching him fill his own glass, I wondered if I should speak? I thought better of it and remained silent.

"You're a passionate woman, aren't you? You don't need to answer that it was more an observation than a question. I prefer a deep rich red, tantalizes the taste buds much like an ardent obedient lover."

The Master smiled as he took his place beside me.

"Now, Layla, you expressed to me your self-reliance and the freedom to work within my scheduling of your training, is that correct?"

"Yes Master, that is correct. I can be available whenever you wish to see me."

"Very good Layla. I'm a firm believer in commitment. I would like to see you every afternoon this week. I would like you to be here every morning by 10:00AM, free to spend as many hours as I deem necessary to broaden and expand your training. We will begin an intense program of the basics. Once you understand your responsibilities we will adjust the time requirement up or down per your progression."

It appeared his admonition that I needed to be committed was in fact an expected agreement to be at his beck and call.

"Is that acceptable to you Layla?" His questions were statements which seemed set in stone.

"Yes Master, I'll be here at 10:00AM as you request. I will say I had no idea that I would be spending these many hours with you." What was I getting myself into here?

"When you say as many hours as you deem necessary I have to wonder how I'm to plan simple things like lunch or dinner?" That was a lame question? What I wanted to know is why he would need me to spend so many hours with him?

"There's no need for trivial concerns. The time we spend together is relevant to your ability to play. We will have lunch together and if need be dinner as well. Tomorrow you'll be introduced to Jeremy, he is my assistant in a manner of speaking. Jeremy takes care of all my household needs, as well as some personal considerations. Now to the subject of your attire?"

Who is this Jeremy person? My attire? I dressed as he requested? I wore a dress. What could possibly be an issue with that?

"Although you certainly look lovely today, I would appreciate some considerations. You are a very attractive woman. I have no reason to think that you neglected to wear a slip under your dress due to the warm weather. However, that I could see, and admire I will admit, your shapely body and curves, modesty is a trait every woman should possess."

I was slightly taken off kilter. I can honestly say that I can't recall a man ever suggesting I was being immodest. The look on my face was clearly one of both surprise and confusion.

"I would ask you to in fact wear less revealing attire. Every woman has a black dress? A black skirt and white blouse? I'm sure you do?"

"Yes Master I have both." Less revealing? This may very well be the first man who ever expressed his disdain for my wearing something modestly revealing. Was he serious?

"When you sit on the piano bench, you shouldn't be concerned with the flowing skirt, anything that restricts the movement of your arms or causes you to adjust and readjust your attire. A simple black sheath, long sleeved, a straight black skirt accompanied by a long sleeve button front blouse will put your hands in constant view and allow ease of mobility."

Okay Master. Why don't you just dress me?

"I will also require you to wear stockings and at the very least a three-inch pump. You will be using the pedals when you play. Becoming familiar with the positioning of your feet is essential."

I had no idea that learning to play the piano required a dress code, specific footwear or modesty? Suddenly I was feeling that I was in over my head. What was supposed to be something enjoyable was swiftly becoming a lesson in adherence and subjugation. There seemed to be a definite need to clarify my intent. I wanted to play for the joy of music, not become a concert pianist!

"On a grand sustenuto pedal, if you play a chord (or any keys) and continue to hold down the keys, you can depress the middle pedal and then release your hands. The notes will continue to sound, but any other keys you strike won't sustain -- they will dampen once you lift your fingers from the keys. An interesting effect is that you can depress a chord silently, then depress the middle pedal. Keeping the pedal down, you can now sharply strike other chords and the sympathetic vibrations will sound from the strings of the "silent" chord. There are other more traditional uses of course, but the middle pedal isn't used often."

He stopped speaking and took a sip of his wine. I was sure his mouth was parched from the constant stream of information that was spilling out doing nothing but convincing me that I was making a mistake. I opened my mouth to say just that and without skipping a beat he was in full speaking mode once again.

"They are properly called "una corda" (one string), "sustenuto", and to avoid confusion, the "damper" pedals. They are popularly known as soft, middle and loud. I find the "loud" label rather amusing because it doesn't make anything louder -- it just doesn't stop the sound after it has been made. It allows sounding notes to accumulate upon one another and give a bigger sound, but it might just as easily be called the "noise pedal." Finally taking a breath, he gave me the opportunity to speak.