Julie the Pianist

Miss Baxter’s Girls: Julie the Pianist By Davina Lee I’m lying supine on the massage table again. This time there’s a sheet between me and its vinyl-clad surface—to keep my bare flesh from sticking, I suppose. “Are you ready, Julie?” I raise my gaze to her, this amazing woman who has opened my eyes to so many things, challenged me in so many ways in the year since my arrival. “Yes, Miss Baxter.” “Before we begin, Julie, I’d like you to tell me your safe word one more time, please.” “Yes, Miss Baxter. It’s peaches.” “Ah, peaches.” Miss Baxter reaches out to cup my cheek in her hand. “Fitting. Juicy and ripe. And so very sweet.” I smile and turn my head just a bit to more easily rub against the tender warmth of her fingers. “Yes, Miss Baxter, that’s what you always say.” I watch the corners of Miss Baxter’s mouth turn down ever so slightly. The change was almost imperceptible, and probably would have been overlooked by most people, but this was not my first session with Miss Baxter. I knew I had done something wrong. I was still searching my mind as to what it might be when I felt the familiar leather of the riding crop lightly touching the inside of my bare thigh. “I don’t recall asking you a question, Julie.” I almost say “No, Miss Baxter,” but stop myself when I realize that she still hasn’t asked me a question—that she was just testing me again. Instead, I hold my lower lip between my teeth and shiver as I feel the crop sliding slowly over my tender skin. There would be a price to pay for my mistake—a small price, for it was a small mistake, and Miss Baxter was nothing if not fair—but a price nonetheless. That’s what I loved about Miss Baxter and that’s why I had let her strap me to this table in her extra-curricular room, as she calls it. I draw a breath and hold it as I wait for the inevitable. I know it’s going to sting, but I also know that I will welcome it in my own way. Being here was my idea after all. My reward for another week well done. I smile and think about that as I wait. “Have you been having naughty thoughts again, Julie?” “Yes, Miss Baxter.” “Tell me all about it, dear.”