Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters from the Phantom of the Opera. I am just borrowing them.
A/N: I'm back! This was orginally a short story writing assignment. I have adjusted it to fit the Phantom theme. The original is slightly different but I couldn't use the Phantom theme in my writing class. It wouldn't have been original enough so I wrote it with the intention of going back and changing it to fit the Phantom of the Opera. I hope you enjoy it. It's my favorite of all my writing assignements for that class!
P Is for…
They never told me it was this hard. Stand up straight, feet spread, toes out, arms loose and held out at the sides. Spine absolutely straight. Don't slouch!
'Whap!'
His stick of wood against my back. I'm straight! I'm straight!
"Good, keep it that way."
Yes, Maestro.
I wonder: do the others feel this inadequacy? This painful…pleasure? Yes, pleasure, for if it was not pleasure why come back for more? Subject myself to his whip of a tongue? Because I do, I can, and I will. It's seductive, like the way I move my body to the beat of his taps. Up, down, up, down, point, flex, bend, stretch, pirouette. No one can dance the dance of pleasure the way we can, he and I.
"Pay attention! Arms higher, hips turned out more! Legs apart!"
'Whap!'
"Are you listening?"
No and yes. I listen to his voice but not to his words. Will he do it again if I bend over too far? Will he come in contact with my body if I don't spread my legs wide enough? Please, use me. I am the student and he is the teacher. Tears sting my eyes as he brings his cane hard upon the floor and I imagine it is my back.
"Once more with the music this time! Ready, begin! Spread those legs wider!"
If I close my eyes I can imagine how it would feel: a painfully soothing stretch, one I have never truly felt before. And he would be there, hands on my hips guiding me through it, slowly lowering me into position. It hurts!
"You are just not ready for this. Maybe next week, ma Cherie."
"No, Maestro, I am ready! I've been ready! Please!"
"Non, ma petite Meg, you are not ready for the Plies." Erik sighs to me.
Fin
