Corinna must feel

Like a puppet whose strings are being pulled, Corinna came haltingly closer. Unsure, she stopped in front of John's chair. His face was an unreadable mask. Only a questioningly raised eyebrow indicated any emotion. His phrase "she who will not hear must feel" hovered in the air.

She felt stupid and lost. Should she really play this game? He had made it clear that he expected obedience and would otherwise throw her out of the orchestra. Yes, she definitely wanted to stay in. She loved music and she felt comfortable with the other musicians. But how far would she be prepared to go?

Still not completely convinced, she got down on her knees and leaned forward. Before she came to lie on the conductor's lap, she closed her eyes. Partly out of shame that she was humiliating herself like this, partly in anticipation of what was to come.

She felt a man's hand stroking her backside. She trembled but pressed her lips together to avoid making a sound. The stranger's hand gripped the fabric of her gray skirt and pulled it up bit by bit. More and more of her legs were exposed. First her lower legs, then her knees and finally her thighs. When the garment had finally slipped all the way up, revealing her plump bottom, she sucked in a loud breath. Heat welled up, rising from her chest and Corinna was sure, without having to see it, that she had a bright red face.

What would the man think of her red and white striped panties that were now lying open in front of him? It was neither particularly sexy nor feminine. A simple, practical piece of underwear. But how could she have foreseen that anyone but herself would see it today?

The insolent hand grabbed the top of the panties and pulled it forcefully upwards so that the fabric was pulled tight and slipped uncomfortably into her trench. Yikes! Apart from the fact that this was a nasty tug, she was aware that her buttocks were finally on full display.

More anxious seconds passed. She didn't dare look to the side or upwards but continued to squeeze her eyes tightly shut. However, the shift in his body weight made her realize that the conductor was raising his arm.

This was the sign at the beginning of every piece that it was starting, that all attention was now to be focused on him, that he had taken control. Corinna concentrated.

Then something whizzed through the air. The broad ruler slammed into her unprotected backside.

"Ouch!"

No, that was too much! She wouldn't stoop that low. She made an effort to get up.

"Are you sure?"

The question came as if casually. His voice was quiet, almost emotionless. Corinna paused in mid-movement. Inside her, her self-respect battled with the desire to continue making music with the others. The strip where she had been hit began to burn and she could feel her skin swelling. She trembled with tension and remained motionless.

But the battle was actually decided before it had even begun. Music was her life. Sighing in surrender, she sank back down and accepted her punishment.

The arm rose and it whizzed again.