Miss Geist's Masterclass - Chapter 3

None of Miss Geist's students had to learn a piece for her fifth lesson: the schedule said 'Guest demonstration'. The class was stunned when the guest turned out to be a world-famous tenor. He had been one of Miss Geist's first pupils, and such was his respect and gratitude toward her that he was not even being paid for his appearance.

He was going to sing the well-known aria from "I Pagliacci". At Miss Geist's request, he borrowed a costume - not a clown's big nose and feet, but a carnival costume. Miss Geist told the class that the opera's characters are taken from Commedia dell'Arte, a form of improvised theatre from the Italian renaissance, and very little to do with today's circus clowns.

Then the famed singer launched into his portrayal of the carnival comedian trying to laugh when he has just found out his wife is cheating on him - "Laugh, Pagliacco!". Elsa, Miss Geist's short blonde assistant, played the piano accompaniment.

The students were thrilled at this private performance, and few of them noticed when Elsa made a mistake in her playing. The singer's eyes flicked towards her for an instant, and so did Miss Geist's, but the performance continued.

Afterwards, the tenor took questions from the class. At the end, they applauded him warmly and filed out. When the auditorium was empty, Miss Geist went to a cupboard in the stage's wings. Elsa didn't need to see what she was fetching. Without hesitation, without being told, she pushed down her slacks and panties, and bent bare-bottomed over the piano. She said softly "I'm sorry, Rannveig".



Miss Geist flexed the cane as she stepped down from the stage with it. Without uttering a word, she brought it down hard across Elsa's unprotected behind. The teacher's sense of absolute pitch told her that the swishing sound it made was an E flat. The 'whap' as it struck bare skin produced a yell from Elsa, which was a C sharp.

Suddenly, they were not unobserved. The tenor, who had taken some time getting out of his costume, walked out onto the stage from the dressing room. His face showed no shock - he stood and watched impassively.

Elsa took her punishment without resentment. She was nearly ten years older than Miss Geist. But whenever she made a mistake, she was so distressed at letting down the great Mistress of Music (whom she alone was allowed to call 'Rannveig') she genuinely wanted to be punished. But this attitude didn't reduce how much the cane hurt. She cried out and sobbed as ten red lines were placed across her behind.



As Elsa pulled up her pants, sniffing and whimpering a little, the famous singer asked Miss Geist if he could have a word with her. Sitting on the edge of the stage, he began to set out his strange request.

"Seeing that little incident reminds me of being your student, Miss Geist" he said. "And it also reminds me of what a disciplined singer I used to be".

"You have gotten lazy?" asked the great teacher. "I suspected so, when I heard you today. You have lost precision and intensity since you were in my class."

"Exactly! Now that I'm so famous, nobody dares correct me. Directors accept whatever performance I give, and critics just gush praise no matter what I do. At this time in my career, I want to be getting better, not worse. You would never have let me get away with such laxity when I was your pupil. I need your discipline again."

Miss Geist's serious expression never changed. "How can I refuse your request when you have just assisted me, and asked nothing for it?" she said. "Remove your belt and hand it to me. You will stand up on the stage, and Elsa will be the audience. Since you saw her punishment, she shall watch yours."

The famed singer (whose name is being withheld for now obvious reasons) passed down his belt. He faced upstage and waited as Miss Geist mounted the steps. Unlike Elsa, he didn't take down his pants right away, but waited to be told to. He wanted to be commanded by Miss Geist, as he had been when he was her student. When the order came, he lowered his trousers and underpants quickly.

Miss Geist wrapped the buckle end around her hand and swung the heavy belt with full force. The tenor grunted as it made a smacking sound, leaving a broad red band across both buttocks. Elsa winced in sympathy. The second stroke was very low, partially onto his thighs, and hurt like hell. "What have I put myself in for?" he thought.



As she continued his thrashing, she told him. "I want you to remember this penalty, and know that if you are lazy in your singing and acting in future, you will have to return to me for a worse punishment". He replied through gritted teeth, "Yes Miss Geist!"

When it was over, the tenor rubbed his sore rear and thought "I needed that, but I sure don't want it too often!" He thanked his former teacher for her ministrations and departed for the opera house. His performance that night was universally praised - and this time it wasn't just 'blowing smoke' towards a famous singer. He truly excelled, giving one of his best performances.

-------------

A version of the aria in this chapter:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1hxonfpfuTY
However, the tenor in the story above is NOT Placido Domingo!

Miss Geist's Masterclass - Chapter 2

At the end of the first session, Miss Geist gave out a schedule, with details of the operatic scenes on which she would teach each lesson. It also had the names of those who would have to perform it, so they had time to learn the words and music. When they joined an opera company they would be contractually obliged to know the whole opera before the first staging rehearsal, so learning these short scenes was no problem.

And nobody was likely to be lazy about it, after what happened in the first lesson. Four singers had been given an embarrassing spanking on their underwear, just for being unimaginative, so nobody wanted to find out what Miss Geist would do to them for not being prepared for her lessons.

First on the list was a scene from Richard Strauss' "Salome". Rachel (soprano) had been chosen to play the title role, while Gerry (bass) was to play John the Baptist. Both of them arrived well prepared.

"This opera" said Miss Geist, "based on Oscar Wilde's biblical play, was banned for years in many countries, because it dared to depict a teenage girl as having a dangerous sexuality. Dangerous because it was mixed with power, enough to cost a man his head."

"Rachel, remember when this severe prophet emerges from his cell that he is a wild man of the desert. You find him sexy in a scary way, like the girls in teenage vampire stories. The difference is that Salome is rejected by this man, who has always practiced asceticism and self-denial. And she is used to getting her own way in everything. She is a spoiled brat."

"From your point of view, Gerald, there is no room in your mind for sexual dalliance, even when offered by an attractive young princess. Indeed there is no room for anything but the calling of your religion. With those things in mind, you may start."

Elsa the accompanist played the solid chords that mark the entry of John the Baptist from his dungeon. Gerry made a show of crawling along the stage then rising and blinking in the light. He began singing his condemnations of Herod and Herodias.

Rachel watched him with eyes wide. She took Miss Geist's hint and imagined she was someone like Bella, looking at a handsome vampire for the first time.

Then came the part where Salome dares to try seducing the stern desert prophet. She sang "I am in love with your body, Jokanaan. Your body is as white as the lilies of a field never mown. Your body is as white as the snow on the mountains of Judea. Let me touch your body."

Gerry's deep bass thundered in reply: "Back, daughter of Babylon! Evil came into the world by woman. I will not listen to you."

Rachel, kneeling, pounded her fist on the stage and kicked her feet in a teenage temper tantrum, singing "Your body is hideous, like the body of a leper."

The rest of the class laughed at this action. Miss Geist held up her hand and the music paused. Calmly, she said "Silence now. That was a good move and it is right that the audience should laugh. But for now, we have work to do."
Rachel resumed Salome's attempted seduction, reaching out and touching Gerry's head. "It's your hair that I love, Jokanaan", she sang. "The long black nights, when the moon hides her face and the stars are afraid, are not as black as your hair."

Gerry twisted his body away from her: "Back, daughter of Sodom, don't touch me."

Sitting down hard and pounding the stage with her fists again, 'Salome' sang with as much petulant conviction as she could muster: "Your hair is horrible. It is thick with dirt and dust. I don't like your hair."

Again the audience was grinning, but obediently stifled their laughter. Gerry was equally amused at Rachel's performance and had to concentrate on his proper breathing to avoid laughing.

Rachel went on, clinging even closer to Gerry: "It's your mouth that I desire. Your mouth is like a band of scarlet on a tower of ivory. Let me kiss your mouth, Jokanaan."

Gerry thought he ought to keep his acting on as high a level as Rachel's. So he pushed her hard, with a fierce widening of his eyes: "Curses on you, daughter of an incestuous mother!".

And that was where it all fell apart. Rachel fell down, and this, combined with seeing Gerry's flashing eyes, made her helpless with laughter. Gerry too couldn't hold it in any longer and began laughing out loud.



Some chuckling began in the rest of the class, but it quickly stopped. Down in the stalls, they could see the expression on Miss Geist's face, which at first the two giggling singers could not. It was a mask of fury.

No longer calm, she raged at them - "So you ignore my request for professional focus, and waste my time. Leave the stage!"

Worried but still laughing a little, Rachel and Gerry stepped down. They began to return to their seats in the auditorium, thinking they had been dismissed from the demonstration.

Miss Geist, who had followed them down the steps, shouted "Where do you think you are going? Bend over the edge of the stage with your pants lowered!"

Their hearts sank a little. It was clear they were going to suffer the same punishment as last lesson's quartet. They slid their jeans down to their ankles and leaned on the edge of the stage. But worse was to come.

Miss Geist reached for Rachel's panties and pulled them suddenly down to mid-thigh. "No!" shouted Rachel, but she didn't dare actually resist Miss Geist's punishment. She certainly wasn't laughing any more.

A glance sideways told Gerry what was happening. Surely that wasn't about to happen to him too! But then he felt Miss Geist's long fingernails at his hips as she grasped the waistband of his briefs. Then there was a swift downward pull, and he felt the cool air of the theatre, and implicitly the eyes of all his classmates, on his bared behind.



Miss Geist didn't move back to Rachel but immediately began smacking Gerry's bare bottom as hard as she could. It stung like blazes. Gerry kept looking straight ahead so the class couldn't see his face, deep red with humiliation and the effort to stay silent however much it hurt.

But there was nothing he could do. Everyone knew that walking out of this class would mean missing the opportunity of learning from the world's best teacher; and that whether they had her course on their CV could mean the difference between an appointment to a top opera house and none.

So he gritted his teeth and gasped now and then, until Miss Geist was satisfied and her strong left arm with its billowing sleeve stopped swinging.

Rachel by now was absolutely terrified. Her eyes welled up with tears even before Miss Geist started on her. The first smack on her bare bottom was more painful than she expected. It was such a childish punishment that surely, she had hoped, it wouldn't hurt a grown young woman that much. But she soon found that, at least with Miss Geist dishing it out, this just wasn't true.



She yelled over and over again, and squirmed about so much that her panties slipped down to her calves. Perhaps it was because she had started laughing first, or maybe it was her imagination, but it seemed she was getting a longer spanking than Gerry. "Please" she begged, "I'm sorry!".

The stinging smacks finally stopped. "Replace your clothing and return to the stage" said Miss Geist. "The lesson is not over."

As the couple mounted the steps, she added "The next people to fool about laughing will be on stage facing the class when I take their underwear down". The threat of such supreme embarrassment registered completely with the terrorised class.

Despite their still-burning posteriors, Gerry and Rachel tried to forget what had just happened and concentrate on their performance. Miss Geist began directing them on many ways to improve, both vocally and dramatically, and soon their minds were entirely on these technical and artistic matters.

Afterwards, none of the other singers teased the unfortunate pair. They were all aware that it could easily have been them. The girls told Rachel how good she had been in the part, and gave her the occasional sympathetic hug.

The other men said things to Gerry like:
"That was bad luck, being first on the schedule."
"You couldn't know what would happen."
"Come and have a beer, man, to steady your nerves."
"You've got a right to get completely Boris Yeltsin. The first one's on me!"
Of course, the unspoken subtext of all this was "seeing your bare butt means nothing to us straight macho guys".

As they were leaving, Rachel and Gerry caught each other's eye, and they exchanged a sheepish smile of mutual sympathy. Miss Geist saw this and whispered to Elsa, who was packing up, "One thing's for sure. If ever they are cast to play opposite each other during their careers, they'll have no trouble feeling a bond between them".

Elsa nodded, which was all she ever did when the great Mistress of Music spoke.

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There are several versions on youtube of the scene they're rehearsing above, but this one has the most vampire-like Jokanaan:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N_sFH3q3Q50
The production is from Nashville, but don't expect any country & western singing! :)

Miss Geist's Masterclass - Chapter 1

[And now for something completely different... It's a long time since I wrote full stories with the art as secondary, which is how I first started, but the pictures took over. This story of a supremely dominant female begins very mildly for reasons of believability. But it will get hotter.]

MISS GEIST'S MASTERCLASS, Chapter 1.

FOR a young singer graduating from a Conservatorium of Music, only one postgraduate placing was a guarantee of employment by one of the world's great opera houses, and that was the masterclass of Dr Rannveig Geist. For every place in her elite group there were fifty applicants, and she accepted only the best.

Miss Geist's age was only 29 and she had not been an opera singer herself. But she was a musical genius comparable only to Mozart, and had written her Ph.D thesis on the Grotowski school of acting. She could teach singers musical and dramatic skills they could not get anywhere else.

A new group of conservatorium grads, ages ranging from 17 to 24, were chatting as they waited for Miss Geist to arrive. They were full of anticipation and the joy of just being there. They knew that if they could finish the course, great careers awaited them.

When the famous teacher arrived, they all recognized her long auburn hair and intense dark eyes from photographs. But they were unprepared for her imposing height, and the sheer presence invoked by her long-legged determined stride towards the front of the theatre. Her slim maxi-length dress was black, which was nothing unusual. Black was a traditional rehearsal colour, and over half the young men and women in the hall were in black track suits or black slacks and shirt. But none of the girls was wearing anything like the cut of Miss Geist's gown, with its long draping sleeves and puffed shoulders.

Following behind her was a short blonde woman, approaching 40. She followed like a puppy, scurrying to keep up, then sat at the accompanist's piano, in a corner below the stage. Miss Geist had no need to call for silence. Awe had killed any ongoing conversation as soon as she walked in.

"I'll save the orientation speech till later" Miss Geist said in her slight German-Scandanavian accent. "I want to get you singing as a group right away. You have all been given a set of musical scores. Locate your volume of Mozart ensembles and turn to the Recordare from the Requiem." Nodding towards the piano, she added "Elsa will lead you in."

The accompanist began playing the piano reduction of the orchestral score. But Miss Geist held up a hand and the music stopped. Pointing at a young man, she spoke sharply. "You in the Tenor section. Why are you looking at your neighbour's score? You cannot sing properly that way. Did your books not arrive?"

"I seem to have left that one behind, Ms Geist" he said nervously.

"My name is MISS Geist" she said in a matter-of-fact tone. "And what is YOUR name?"

"Thomas Havel, Miss Geist".

"Come forward, Mr Havel". She opened a cupboard in the wings and took out a copy of the book in question, as Thomas tremulously stepped up to the stage. "I have a copy you may borrow. But it will cost you. Face the class and show me how you bow at the conclusion of a performance."



Thomas turned around and bowed deeply. Miss Geist swung the book and whacked him hard on the behind with it. The class's reaction was to laugh, in surprise but also in relief from the tension of an awkward moment so early in the first lesson. Thomas coloured a little but grinned broadly. He accepted the book with thanks and returned to his seat. Nobody guessed what a salient pointer to the future this little incident was.

The music Miss Geist had told them to sing was really for just four principal singers. But they sang it as a chorus, each section choosing the line that suited their vocal range. At the end, their eminent teacher posed a rhetorical question: "Why does that piece NOT work with more than four voices? To demonstrate, I will have..." - she consulted a list and called the name of one soprano, mezzo, tenor and bass. The chosen students began to come forward. "Place yourselves as you think best, and signal Elsa when you are ready to start".

At the front of the stage, the four students stood in a line facing the class, concert style, and sang the quartet as best they could. All were competent singers and music readers. The result was technically accurate, but dull.

"Why on earth did you stand like that?" she demanded of the quartet. "Because the Requiem is not an opera? But you are training as opera singers. You should learn immediately why opera is superior to all other forms of music. Arrange yourselves as a cross, all of you facing inwards so that you are singing towards each other. And all of you LISTEN to what the others are doing. Now start again."

They repeated the work, which was like a relay, one voice taking over from another, then combining in pairs, then all together. Maintaining eye contact and concentrating on the others' voices as much as their own, they produced an interpretation full of nuance and feeling. The class broke into applause at the end. Everyone realised why they were in this masterclass. With one simple instruction, Miss Geist had improved the performance out of sight. Their awe of her was doubled.

This state of amazement goes a long way towards explaining why there was no outrage or protest at what happened next. Miss Geist commanded the four students to go back to the linear arrangement, facing the class, that they had initially chosen. "You had no idea how to give a good performance. You have come in here with a head full of cotton wool. But you will leave thinking like world-class opera singers. All four of you, pull down your slacks or your jeans!"

Under the force of Miss Geist's personality, and in a trance at just having sung better than they ever had in their lives, the quartet obeyed. The two men unbuckled their pants and let them fall, while one pair of female slacks and one pair of wide-hipped jeans were taken down.



Standing to the left was the mezzo-soprano who had sung the alto part. Miss Geist took up position behind and beside her, then spanked the seat of her white panties, hard. One, two, three, four, five, six smacks with her slender hand. The mezzo gasped in surprise at the first three with wide eyes, and went "Oww! Aaah! Ouch!" at the last three.

The tenor and bass were next in line. Their underpants were similarly spanked, making them frown in confusion, then grit their teeth as it began to hurt. Miss Geist's trumpet sleeve swung vigorously, and both guys were in no doubt she had a strong left arm!

The young soprano at the end had the most time to think, and to absorb what was going on. As Miss Geist stepped towards her she felt butterflies of fear in her stomach. She was wearing a long shirt, and the tall Mistress of Music tucked it up out of the way to smack the back of her pale blue panties. From the first spank, she gave a petulant "Owww!" in protest at the sting, a sound which rose in pitch as each smack landed. At the end of the six, her lower lip trembled as she rubbed her bottom.

 

"Back to your seats!" came the command. Four singers hastily pulled up their pants and ran for their chairs, doing up belt buckles only when they had sat down. Throughout the whole incident, Elsa had watched from the piano without expression. Clearly this little performance was commonplace to her.

"Listen closely" said Miss Geist firmly. "Opera is a dramatic profession. You must be able to play convincingly a buffoon like Leporello, or a slavegirl like Aida. Men, you may be lashed on stage like Mim in 'The Rhinegold'. Women, you may be tortured like Liu in 'Turandot', or brutally coerced and seduced like Tosca. The drama depends on the degradation of these characters. If you think of yourself as the dignified opera singer with chin held high and puffed-up chest, your performances will be pompous and ridiculous. While correcting your singing and acting techniques, I will knock all such pride out of you. As I have done for many famous names before you."

It was true, the students thought, Miss Geist's proteges were known for bringing great acting as much as musical prowess to the operatic stage. They were also known to be easy to get along with. None of them were stuck-up 'prima donnas' except in the original meaning of the phrase. Was this why? Were they all spanked by this tall imposing woman? And how far would it go? But the number of singers thinking that maybe they should quit the class was zero.


- Link to the music sung in this chapter, if you like that sort of thing:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f9kp6pI3Or4
(Nice drawings in this clip too).

Skyrim - The Untold Story 25-28

What "Skyrim" didn't tell you about what befell the Dragonborn. She was in fact a blonde Breton mage, condemned as a prisoner to serve her sentence naked. And her punishments didn't stop at that. The smaller pictures are the official story, the larger one is the untold truth: the painful perils of the Dragonborn.



Months went by. The Dragonborn's hair grew longer and her skin more pale from being kept as a slave in the vampire castle's dungeon. Lord Harkon was quite cruel to her, and she began to welcome more and more Serana's more gentle sessions with her. The Mistress and slave grew closer emotionally, until one night Serana offered to make her an equal by giving her 'the dark gift' - the bite that would make her a vampire.



Given the offer of becoming Serana's lover on an equal basis, the Dragonborn didn't hesitate. She agreed to become a vampire. So Serana, as gently as possible, performed the deadly embrace.



Newly transformed into a vampire, her body was strengthened and enhanced. Her face was rather monstrous, but that would wear off with her first feed. No longer a slave, she was allowed to put clothes on.



And that's the end of the untold story. From here on, things progressed for her as told in Skyrim and Dawnguard.

Skyrim - The Untold Story 21-24

What "Skyrim" didn't tell you about what befell the Dragonborn. She was in fact a blonde Breton mage, condemned as a prisoner to serve her sentence naked. And her punishments didn't stop at that. The smaller pictures are the official story, the larger one is the untold truth: the painful perils of the Dragonborn.

Skyrim - The Untold Story 17-20

What "Skyrim" didn't tell you about what befell the Dragonborn. She was in fact a blonde Breton mage, condemned as a prisoner to serve her sentence naked. And her punishments didn't stop at that. The smaller pictures are the official story, the larger one is the untold truth: the painful perils of the Dragonborn.