He has simply asked me to practice, I thought. Nothing to it. My rehearsal ended rather abruptly, and I could tell he was upset. Probably upset about my horrible performance. He must be. I tucked my violin case under my arm, the precious Stradivarius. So few of them, rare and beautiful, yet the sound I had raped from it this day was wretched. I looked up at him as the class emptied and I was surrounded my eerily empty orchestra seats, straight backed and rigid. My teacher looked at me with a raised eyebrow on his handsome face. An older man. A genius. A perfect teacher. A perfect British crisp accent in his voice. I felt low. I stood near my chair, hoping for an escape. I did not want to hear him say I was horrible. He wouldn’t say it…would he?
"Maestro, I don’t feel right today. I am sorry." I offered weakly. He smiled the smile of a warm gentleman.
"Never mind that. You are my best student. You are simply bored. Tell me, how can I make this music play for you, make it sing to you?"
His words struck me as odd. They were awkward poetry. I fumbled with my skirt. He touched my cheek with the back of his hand,
"Do you trust me?" he asked. The words hit me. I saw his lips form the words and it was sexual. It was salty and raw. I whispered "yes" but I do not think sound left me. I lipped the word. He instructed me to prepare the violin. I lifted it from the case and held it, wishing the bow were his arm. He would not love me, this perfect man. This perfect species. Not me, a young violinist with no discipline.
"Play the devil’s music, darling. Play it till it burns." I shivered. I lifted the instrument to my chin, lifting the bow to strike down hard on it in the first note, the first sound to fill my brain.
"Let the music come to you…yes, that is it, let the instrument play you." I closed my eyes and felt the music, the words, the notes, all burning inside me, building me up. And I felt his hand on my hip as he stood behind me, bracing me by the hips. His breath was on my neck, near my ear, and he whispered hot breath to me,
"That is beautiful, darling…keep playing…" And I obeyed him. I would have walked to the end of the Earth for him! I brought the bow down slowly, melodically, in a sensual song. I felt his strong; musician’s hands grip my hips and pull me to his chest, our hips together,