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The Proper Fingering
The Proper Fingering
The Proper Fingering
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The Proper Fingering

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The Proper Fingering is Essential When Attempting the Works of Johann Sebastian Bach. A young woman comes back to the cello after leaving it behind for college. In attempting to master the instrument, she finds herself in need of assistance. A friend recommends a rather unorthodox tutor. He takes her in hand. It's amazing what a spanking will do for your form.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherJack Stratton
Release dateApr 6, 2019
ISBN9780463585139
The Proper Fingering
Author

Jack Stratton

Writer, hedonist, feminist, queer, kinky, polyamorous, dandy. Join my Patreon for access to over 100 stories, audiobooks, and more. 47 years old. Brooklyn. He/him.

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    Book preview

    The Proper Fingering - Jack Stratton

    The Proper Fingering

    Published by Jack Stratton

    Smashwords Edition

    Copyright 2019 Jack Stratton

    Discover other stories by Jack Stratton at writingdirty.com

    The Proper Fingering is Essential When Attempting the Works of Johann Sebastian Bach

    VIBRATIONS are odd things. Alone in her room at fifteen, Charlotte played for herself. She played because no one was home and she could take the towel from over the strings and just play. No inhibitions, no holding back. The cello swelled with sound, and the walls of her tiny bedroom seemed to shake with the vibrations. Vibrations she could feel through her body and between her legs.

    Thank you, Johann Sebastian Bach.

    Her father, a tall imposing man, had been very forceful in his announcement that all of his children would play a musical instrument. A real instrument, not the guitar or some such silliness. The piano for Michael. The flute for lovely Yasmine. For Charlotte, there would be the violin.

    Everyone followed father’s instructions except for the last.

    The violin just didn’t feel right to her. She found the high register piercing. It sounded shrill in her hands, though she had certainly heard it attain beautiful heights. It didn’t hold her attention, not like the cello. The cello was real, with its almost human voice-like tone. Ever since the first time she sat down and had the monstrous curving thing placed between her legs, she knew.

    It may or may not have had anything to do with the fact that Charlotte’s father had played the cello when he was growing up in Tehran. He eventually moved to the contrabass, which nearly destroyed his hands and back. After he moved to America, he started teaching music and left his huge instrument in the basement to warp and

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