Serendipity looked at Trevor, her student, smiling.
"You keep making the same mistakes, and I don't think you are truly devoted to the piano."
"No, really, I love the piano, and I want to play-"
"Trevor, you like the idea of playing the piano."
"Really, please, Serendipity. I can pay more-"
"And all these excuses, Trevor? One week you told me your metronome was broken-"
"I practice at my church-"
"Not much. I've implored you to practice your scales."
As Serendipity said "implore" she held out her arms in an appeal, and it was truly a sight.
She looks like Ivanka Trump with a better nose, Trevor thought stupidly."
Serendipity sighed. "You won't use consistent finger patterns and that's what establishes the muscle memory. It's like touch typing versus hunting and pecking. You can type."
"Yes, I'm a word processor at a prestigious-"
"Yes I know. Your uncle owns Buttermilk Falls's biggest textbook firm, and you're too silly to get your degree, so he's made you a data entry assistant or something. "
"I uh-"
"Your mind is somewhere else. Far, far away.
Trevor was obviously besotted with Serendipity. Oh, the long, thick blonde hair, the high breasts in the white sweater, but he had to focus on the work.
"My cousin Tulsi is one of your uncle's bookkeepers. She says that since you are too simple to be an editor, you are paid a munificent salary just to type. It's a big secret."
"That's confidential-"
"Tulsi says you barely make it in most days, with a hangover, and she says you need strict, condign punishment."
"She-she does?"
It was amusing to watch his big, stupid preppie face gape. Almost absentmindedly, Serendipity tucked in her white sweater. Ah, there's a spark in those vacant eyes!
"Maybe I can buy a pianner-"
"Piano, dear."
"Yes, one for my house. That might make it easier-"
Serendipity's eyes strayed to the couch. Was the pointer still there? Graceline, her last pupil, so self-centered, and eager to show off at her next recital, Gracie had the benefit of the pointer last.
Yes, there had been so many mistakes but Serendipity's light pointer had helped Graceline refocus.
Gracie was now locked in the basement closet, and after Trevor's lesson, she would be brought up again, to master "The Entertainer" which was such an easy composition.
"Serendipity, I really appreciate your-"
So bored with this conversation. "I've heard it before, Trevor." Serendipity said wearily. "I think we can either stop working together, or I can do something more drastic to help encourage your attention.
"What?" Trevor said, gulping. At twenty-nine, six years Serendipity's senior, Trevor had not accomplished much, and he'd somehow gotten his grandmother to think he played piano, and now he had to play it at her birthday.
After all, where there's a "will" there's a way.
"All right, Trevor, get up off the bench and go fetch me that wooden pointer on the divan."
"The divan?"
"The couch, the sofa, you idiot. That long thing with the cushions over by the wall-"
"Yes, of course."
But Serendipity shouldn't forget about Graceline. If Gracie wanted to continue lessons, she would stay in that closet, on her knees, practicing on the keyboard.
Was Serendipity too harsh? Had she whipped Graceline's nipples too hard?
Graceline was very good about pushing out her breasts to take the cruel, punishing slashes, and we have to reduce her bosom fuelled vanity.
The punishments didn't seem to focus Gracie enough on her music, but Serendipity would continue her efforts.
It was difficult because of course Gracie was constantly being told by lovesick admirers how wonderful she was (Serendipity had this problem, too)
And Gracie sometimes seemed to encourage the punishments-Serendipity often had to ignore Gracie when, post-punishment, the girl lay on the floor naked, feverishly toying with her private parts.
Although Graceline and Serendipity were the same age, Serendipity felt that kids were going to hell these days.
Serendipity idly watched Trevor pick up the pointer and stare at it. It might take him a minute to remember he was to bring it to her.
But Graceline was worse. Gracie had been quick to agree that until her music improved, it was probably better that she stayed here in Serendipity's house. But of course those motivations could be suspect.
Graceline loved sneaking into Serendipity's bed after Serendipity's husband had dozed off.
Gracie would shove her little head between Serendipity's legs...tongue was a mile long.
"You mean this?" Trevor asked, holding up the pointer in two hands, and cruelly interrupting Serendipity's reverie.
Serendipity closed her eyes and nodded. Serendipity realized that when it came to Gracie's attentions, if Serendipity was a true behavior modificationist, she would resist Graceline's oral attentions until Gracie mastered a few pieces.
But it was so hard to be mean to the little cunnilingus expert. Graceline knew her way around a vulva.
Trevor held the pointer carefully and stared with longing at the blonde, full lipped girl on the piano bench.
Trevor had just ended his engagement to a vapid Smith College bitch because he knew he'd never feel for her the way he did for glorious Serendipity.
He'd never thought he could get a case for a music teacher. Trevor's former piano teacher had been an old bag, but this girl was phenomenal.
And of course she was right, Trevor wasn't practicing his scales.
Now he stood uncertainly in front of her.
Serendipity smiled, and crossed her legs, tightening her beige pencil skirt just a bit.
"Now take down your pants, Trevor."
"Wh-what?" Trevor was puzzled, had he heard right? Did she want to blow him?
Was she into him? Serendipity was happily married to an old guy called Bosworth or something. She had demurred several times when Trevor had asked her to dinner or a hockey game.
"You heard me. Pull them down. Let's go."
Trevor swallowed, but Serendipity's eyes seemed so compelling.
"Uh, consent..."
"My goodness." Serendipity leaned over and unsnapped Trevor's Brook Brothers "Performance Series" Golf pants. "Oh, corozo buttons. I like these. Corozo is made from resin, you know."
Serendipity pulled Trevor's trousers down and followed with his boxers.
"Very clever, a 'Tasmanian Devil' print. Mother discouraged television, but I found Looney Tunes amusing, if a shade puerile."
