Eisaac's Piano Lessons

by Eisaac <lookic@bigfoot.com>

My name is Eisaac. I am a 26 years old guy living in Mexico. This is a real thing happening abaut twelfe years ago.

I was a normal boy very attracted to play soccer futball and having a lot of friends at school and at my neiborghwood. Unfortunally, my parents were not as normal as my pal's parents. Mom and dad wanted me to be an artist.

They sent me to a highschool with a lot of extra activities such as painting, choir activities, ballet dance classes,"English"- wich is now helping me to write this story and a lot of sport activities.

My school was a very strict and prestigious institute. It was also elegant with a nice building and all its students dressed up with a black sweater, dark blue short pants, white shirt and always a little tie wich I used to hate.

Beside all this glamour abaut my education I used to assist to private piano lessons with the obigation of perform every year my piano pieces in front of my parents and the other student's parents.

This kind of education was not consistent with my middle class backgrownd. I was living in a middle class nieghborghhood with middleclass pals always laughing at me because of my uniform. They never liked my street soccer sessions interrupted because of my private lessons.

On this context I built a problem with all kind of adult authorities. I was a boy problem at school, at my ballet classes and at home. Of course. It made me a known guest of the paddle at school and at the leather bilt of my daddy.

I was a slim and short boy, but very known because I was brave and sarcastic with the teachers. No spanking would make me say even a little "ouch". I would leave the desk on wich I recived the paddle with a sarcastic smile to make my friends at the class room know how "macho" I was.

My daddy's bilt was different, because It would produce on my butt and legs suc a strong pain that I would be runing around the house jumping and looking for my mom for protection from my daddies persecution. It wouldn't matter since any of my pals would testify such a coward reaction coming from me.

My daddie's bilt was the power that would lead me to assist punctually to every extra classes, to be properly dressed for school and to perform nicely the piano. I would eat fast any kind of vegetables my mom would cook with the simple looking of my dad taking his fingers to the bilt. Then I would eat faster until seeing my dad hands on any other place..

I used to love my dad anyway. But I would love him more on sundays. When he mustly would be using pants with no need of leather bilt. Anyway I wouldn't show him my love. I was kind of distant with him unless I needed a couple of box to buy something.

The only adult figure I liked was that of my piano teacher. He was so patient with me, and he would even hide my lack of studing from my parents since he knew what could I get at home if he would complain abaut me.

The punishment he used for me was to send me to another study room to do some extra practicing. So my piano classes normally would take several hours.

As I said. No spanking or paddling, with the exeption of my dad's bilt spanking would make me react at all. Until one day and from the last person I ever thought. and it was from my piano Preoffesor, and it was the hardest spaking I had ever recived. Although very different from any spanking I had hear abaut.

That day I did cry a lot, and I did screem a lot. I even screem for help as the big hand of the proffesional painist was spanking my bottom with my school shorts and white underpants totally pulled dawn, and my stomach lying on the teacher's knees while his left hand was keeping me on position.

I was crying so much besides the pain that the spanking was producing on me because the pain in my feelings toward my proffesor. The one who was always protecting me, the only adult I used to trust, the one who would offer me chocolate and cookies when I play nice my piano lesson. The one who always said that a present was better than a spanking, and because this single time I was inocent and I was not deserving the punishment.

Hundreds or tears came out from my eyes that day while I crying that I hadn't done any thing wrong and crying for my teacher misericordy. "I didn't do it..I didn't do it" I was crying while getting the severe spanking."Stop please Sir, stop". And It seem that the spanking was never going to stop.

That day I didn't care my pal's at the other romm noticing of my crying. I just was feeling the punishment of my favorite proffesor broking my hart.

What possibly causes such a severe action from my proffesor?...It was just a terrible mistake.

It happened twelfe years ago. I was in my earlies fourteen years old. The naughty student, that was me, arrived to the piano class at four O'clock as usual. My proffesor sent me to the study room since he knew from my own atittude that I had study nothing.

I had a lot of experience abaut what to do at the study room. There was a desk with a lot of drawers wich I use to open every time I was there to see what could my teacher keep on them, there was a big window to see the cars and people at the street. I think my proffesor always knew abaut my little searching on his desk and he would let me do it just to let me be.

At five Oclock I knocked at my proffesor's class room and got thrue to play four measures from my piano exercise before be sent me back to the study room.

That was definitively not my day. I tried at six O'clock again and I was sent again to practice..

The things began to become terrible because at seven O'clock my favorite T. V. program was starting and I was desesperate. The last thing I wanted to do was practicing.

With my brain in "off" I started to touch with my finger tip the front of the black and bright wood of the piano. The sunlight had gone and the light from the bulb was kind of low. My finger tip continued moving around the front of the piano just as a way of doing something in such a borring situation, but as I repeat my mind was tottaly in blanch. With out thinking abaut it I started writing the most awfull word and phrases. I would never write dawn such thing for real but I was doing it just as a way of giving a movement to my finger. I wrote of course in Spanish words that wouldn't have translation to the engkish language such as "Puuuuto" "hijo de la chingada" insults toward my proffesor that could be equivalent to "sucker" "_f_u_c_k_ you" and so on.

Finally before seven the proffesor opened the studio room and told me I could go, with the statement that If I wouldn't study I would be kept there again until seven O'clock.

I run as hell to get my T. V. favorite program and of course that week I studied a little bit more for the next piano class.

The next class I was recived directly by my proffesor at the entrance of his house, wich was a very strange thing to happen. "Hi prof". I said. He didn't answered to me. He put his big hand on my neck and told me to go with him.

He took me directly to the study room. "I did study this time prof" I said. He didn't asnwer again but he asked: "Tell me what is this". He pointed at the front of the opened piano to some kind of marks made on the black wood over the dust that were covering lightly the black barnish. Then I read it on laud voice: "Puuuuto", "hijo de la chingada"... and I started laughing with my hands on my stomacch. I knew I had a confident relation with my proffesor but never thought we would start sharing our knowledge abaut bad words.

Surprisely I hear him saying. "you wrote this words Eisaac". Then I stoped laughing. "No I didn't" I said noticing that this situation was more serious from what I thought. Any way I was beeing honest since I didn't even remember my figer tip been moved writing words on the piano. Unfortunally I never thought either abaut the dust keeping my deep unconcious thoughts marked on. But I was not concious abaut me writing anything.

"You are such a lyier" my teacher said laudering his voie as I had never seen. It made me automatically cry because of the attitude he was showing to me and wich was very painfull. But still I kept myself saying:"I didn't, I didn't do it".

Then, the proffesor asked: "Who did it then". Suddenly one name came to my mind. the most likely person to do such a terrible thing was "Pepe" my best friend and a pal who was also taking piano lessons and visiting often the studio room. So I was sure abaut him. He was the kind of kid who would do something like this. "Pepe did it" I said, being sure that this acusation would fix everything and stoping my crying.

My proffesor looked at me directly to my eyes. Me too looked at him confused. Then it is when the terrible thing started.

My piano Proffesor was enourmously tall, and enormously strong . I had never notice how imponent he was. My dad was a little thing compared with him, and my bilt's dad was nothing compared with the scene of seeing my proffesor sitting on the piano banch and pulling ,in one single movement, my pants and trouser to my shoes. The reaction was so fast that I didn'e even react. I only opened widely my eyes at the fact that I had gotten naked.

As fast as he pulled my clothes dawn he bent me over his knees and suddenly I felt the hardest spanking I had never felt in my live on my bare bottom. I coudn't do any thing but screem as hell and start crying.

After four hard spanking he put me on my feet again as if he were handling a piece of paper."Now you will have to apologize for what you did" he said.

Still crying I couldn't say nothing but "I didn't do it, I sware for what ever you want". Then I felt myself bent on his knees again and started feeling the spanking again. "Pepe hasn't come to class for the last two weekes" he was saying at the time as he was spanking me.

He stoped the spanking althought I never said I was killdy. Still having me on his knees he started a lecture while having his hand on my butt. The list of all my naughty activities came in a exact description and the advise as how much I had to change. As he was saying all that stuff he was massaging my butt with out him noticing what was he doing. But I stoped my crying and started feeling exited abaut the touching of my butt.

While my proffesor continued talking he noticed my hard on. He stoped talking but he didn't stop the touching. In silence he continued touching my buttocks with his big hand. Then he took out his left hand from my back and started touching my butt also with his cold left hand. He started talking nicely "You are a great kid Eisaac I care a lot abaut you" he said while moving both hands on my butt.

I was feeling myself pleasure and confort. My smile came back and I told him that I care a lot abaut him too. I didn't want him to stop the touching of my butt. It was the most fascinant feeling I had never had in my life.

We continued this dialog between my buttocks and his hands until he started having contractions and told me to dress up.

He left the study room and came back few minutes latter. I noticed he had changed his pants. You can go Eisaac he said. I took my books from his desk and started leaving the room. He was very serious but gentle. I smiled and told him:"you know something prof?". "what" he said. "Now I remember" I said, "I did it".


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