This story is based loosely on some real experiences and is mixed with a healthy dose of my kinky and perverse imagination. What is included is a lot of bisexual FF – a little MM, MF. There is punishment, spanking, exhibitionism, wrestling, groups and a little incest. It is primarily a fantasy. Do not try this at home – and always be safe. Also, all of the characters are all over 18 and everything is completely consensual. This story is long and I will post more and more of it as time passes. I am always interested in feedback and suggestions. The musical references in the chapter titles are there to ground the story in musical events. Feel free to listen to them while you read the chapters. I would love to find an artist to draw illustrations. Enjoy.
Chapter 11 – *Addio del passato - "Traviata"
Nothing lasts forever, especially in the theater. So after running
Traviata
for three weeks it was time to close. It had been a big success and had been really fun. Not only that but the audience had loved it and we got great reviews. Even the chorus got great reviews (mostly we aren't even noticed). We had started music rehearsals for
L'Elisir d'Amore,
a comic opera by Donizetti. We would have a couple weeks off as we finished rehearsals on stage and then would open this opera in late April.
But first we had our final performance of
Traviata
and then strike. The performance was flawless. We had had a couple cast changes for the last week. Our international stars singing Violetta and Alfredo the first two weeks had left for other engagements and we had new international stars join us for the last week. It made me nervous. But there was no reason for nervousness. I was now at a different level. In a professional company like this the leads could come and go in a famous popular opera like
Traviata
and no one would even notice. They had arrived on Sunday in time for a performance. Then they had a walk through of the staging with the stage manager and then they performed on Tuesday, Friday and Sunday. No big deal!
Our Sunday performance was at 3:00 in the afternoon and we finished around 5:30. Then we had to strike the show. Now this means that every vestige of
Traviata
had to go. The sets had to be torn down, props stored and costumes cleaned and stored or prepared to be shipped back to the US. Now the principals are excused from this work, of course. And for some reason the orchestra was also excused, except for the percussion section and the librarian. But the technical crew organized the strike and the chorus and stage hands were the workers. It seemed terribly unfair, but it was actually in our contracts.
I had no idea how this would go, but Jenni told me it would not take too long. So, after we finished the show and I changed out of my costume and into my jeans and t-shirt I went down to the call board to see what my assignment was. Costumes! Great! How hard can that be? I reported to Rosalia, the costume mistress. She was a pretty no nonsense kind of woman, and she was good. She knew costumes. There was a story that when Luciano Pavarotti was just starting out he came to Caracas and sang
Tosca
. During the run Rosalia had caught him eating dinner while wearing his costume and she let him have it (you're not allowed to eat or drink anything but water while wearing costumes). The story ends by saying that he was able to charm his way back into her good graces before the end of the run. I don't doubt that, but I bet the next time he wanted a snack he removed his costume first!
I went down into the belly of the theater where the costume shop was located. I had to pass through the musician's corridor where I looked for Emmy, but she was gone. There were 8 of us – all girls along with Rosalia's 3 assistants. 5 of the chorus girls (including me) were to collect all of the costumes and bring them down to the costume room on the lift. The others and the assistants would inspect them and prepare them for cleaning and storage. Stephanie and I were sent up to the principal dressing rooms. The other three girls were sent to the chorus dressing rooms.
Stephanie and I pushed our costume rack into the lift and set off for the 4th floor. We could hear the hammering and pounding and yelling from the stage.
"I guess we got off easy this time," she said with a smile.
"Yeah, can you imagine me with a hammer?" We giggled.
Silence. I looked at her, she was a tall and skinny mezzo. She had simple features and was what you might call – plain. She was the girl who had had her lesson right before mine and had emerged from her lesson crying. I wanted to ask her, but I didn't want to pry or make her uncomfortable. She always seemed to be a bit of a loner.
"I... I'm going to miss
Traviata
," I said at last.
She nodded. I smiled.
"How did your first lesson go," she finally asked me at last?
The elevator came to a jerky stop.
"Well, it was..... ah.... Well, I don't think he thinks I am Maria Callas." I said.
We pulled the rack from the elevator and knocked and then entered the 1st dressing room – Violetta. She was gone – of course.
After the door shut we looked at each other as if expecting that the other knew what to do.
"I guess we just make sure the costumes are all here and hung properly and then we put them on the rack," she said finally.
"Haven't you done this before?"
"No, last time I did props." She said.
So we started looking through the beautiful costumes that Violetta had worn.
"So," she said suddenly, "it didn't go well?"
"What? Oh, my lesson. Well..." I stopped and looked at her. "Not really. He doesn't like the way I sing. He thinks my technique is bad, especially my breath support." I was surprised to hear my voice catching as if I was going to cry.
"Did he make you do his special exercise?" She asked, looking right at me.
I blushed. "Yes, he did." Pause. "I assumed he did that with all the girls."
It was her turn to blush. She looked away. "Yes, true."
We were finished and headed off to Alfredo's dressing room.
"Did you make sure we got all of her petticoats." I said as she was pushing the rack out of the room.
"Yes, I know. I did."
In Alfredo's room and alone again she asked me, "What did you think of it?"
"The exercise?" I paused. "I don't know what to think."
"I think it's crap." She snapped, "There is no benefit for singing in that exercise. He does it so he can get into all the girl's panties."
I sighed and blushed. "You're probably right."
"I know I am right."
"OK. So do you refuse him when he orders you to..... assume the position?"
She blushed and looked away. We had finished this dressing room. On to Germont.
We worked in silence for a bit. Then she stopped and said softly, "I tried to last time. We had an argument. He was insistent and threatened me with being fired. I gave in. He was extra rough with me. It hurt. And......
I had stopped too and was listening to her, "And what," I said softly.