A Patron of the Arts, Part Two – Lisa - Sex Stories

A Patron of the Arts, Part Two – Lisa

... 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 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 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 ...