Piano Piece: At Bottom Line

An exclusive network of prestigious Pan-American prep-schools pairs particularly-promising preppy-puppies from honour classes each semester with counterparts excelling in ‘relevant’ disciplines, contributing to a scientific study how different IQ types can stimulate each-other, notably within certain sets. Diego is steadily selected at his Hispanic school every semester, but(t) due to his own coordinator’s poetic phrasing and the Texan host school coordinator’s mediocre grasp of Spanish, his treasure-trove of talents on the computer keyboard was confounded with its melodic counterpart, an instrument not even available at his school or home, music being considered 'menial marriachi' entertainment unfit for excellent education, so he only learned chopsticks from a movie, never saw sheet music. Now, instead of a shining example of all-AAs-achievement, for the first time in his promising academic career, he’s fucking set-up to be the lowly laughing stock, at another place where laughs are generally directed at a dermis-damned, dejectedly-defrocked dumbo-derriere.
It’s all different for underachiever Aiden, who just can’t get good grades, however furiously his frightfully-firmly-flogging father flails the fool's frockless filial fanny full-force for far-too-frequent faults, flaws and feeble grades fitting a foppish frontex fatally F-near-fated. He’s only involved regularly in the exchange program as menial hosting assistant to spare the board explaining to his generous, ambitious self-made Confucian family this sub-standard-studying scion simply won’t amount to much, he’s lucky if he passes prep-school, utterly unlikely to get into Ivy – or second league, so this surely is his best shot at meeting and maybe making friends with meaningfully mind-mighty men made for more.
So far, Aiden’s A-grades hospitality charges basically kept him at arms-length, preferring the commended, collegial company of their cleverest kids kind, reducing Aiden to dogsbody for ‘maid service’ and deliveries, two terms ago even as spankable scapegoat for pranks none would dream of pulling in their own country. This time it’s totally different: Diego never failed in his life, and won’t start now for a fucking musical instrument, so he turns to his humblehound host ‘handler’ for tutoring, which his kind never needed and most like him are used to give, well-paid or as service to a precious social contact, often with licence to strip and spank ad lib when the charge’s last chance to avoid fatal failing. Considering conservatory students are also eligible for the exchange program, hence likely to spread the news to Diego’s memorable mortification among his pretentious peers, he agrees to try tutoring by the thickhead thrall turned trasher, as Aiden once was thought ‘tinky-tonk’ through the time-honoured tactile-teaching-technique of thoroughly tormenting his trouserless teen-tail, trembling thwacked to the terrifying tune of the tyrannical tunes-tutor’s trusted two-tail-tawse.
Diego hasn’t had his boyhood bared and brat-bottom beaten beet-red since the rare cases his doted, devoted dad ‘don Domenico‘ put him OTK as little Latino lad to learn lividly-leather-lashed lasting life-lessons, like never play with fire nor waste a single peso, least of all shame the family, and the model chico never needed a rear-reddening reminder since age five, becoming the pride and joy of his perfectly-piously-pleased patriarch. It may seem and feel like his lofty luxury-life-luck lately ran out, utterly upended to have his humiliatingly-helplessly-heightened he-hood hornily heeded and hell-hotly-hurting hiney hit hundredfold again like a naughty nit, boy-balls-&-boner baby-bared and bubble-butt burning brightly being beaten black and blue by the bloody ‘brainless’ bountifully-beechwood-brandishing beneath-BBs-brat, but(t) the beaut-boy bares it, blissfully beware of better beyond blisters: this will suffice to save face till he gets his actual talents cleared-up and his program fixed, his reputation saved and bright future preserved, planning to become headmaster and loftily lustily laying the leathering-lash on lots of lovely ‘lewd, lazy, late …’ lads' lowlife-lower-halves lordly.
Again in antithesis, Aiden can’t believe his luck, like turning the teen-tail-tormentor-tables on a towering twink as tinky-tonk tutor, for once feeling a fucking flogger-king, flailing for fun instead of baring his bloody brat-butt to be beaten blazingly by his betters, but(t) he’ll be back at being bared and battered belittled bitterly bloody-fast, for the rest of his youth, without proper prospect of promotion to proud perfectly-perilously-presented-puerile-posteriors-purple-painer-priveleged positions, the probable prize for his present pounding-patient and plenty of his prickish peers in post-preppie perpetuity.
As if as consolation prize, when the program coordinator consulted headmaster on correcting Diego’s talent-proper program, this mishap inspired strict Sir to argue adapting the exchange regime in agreement with his counterparts: from next term, all participants will be finally accepted after approving mutually detailed programs, and at arrival suffer ‘standard’ sample spankings from school staff supervisors, also attending demonstrations of hell-hot-hard-handed-harsh-handling-hidings on their humble-hound host attendants’ abject all-attire-abandoned arses as worst warning for either, the high standards for selection also include duly-dire discipline, and Aiden promptly gets a one-off test-run tail-torment, of exceptional duration, as strict Sir thoroughly tries-out on the trembling teen thrall’s trousers-down-trembling tush-tail ten types of terrifically-terrifying tail-torment-torrents, with Diego and the deputy head as Sir’s fellow jurors which works best, passing the poor pantless puppy’s pain-purple-pounded prop-posterior from lap to lap after each of those ten thorny teen-tail-thrashing type-tests.