by Loki Renard
It wasn’t until they crossed into continental Europe that the pace slowed - largely due to the extended traveling times. Hours upon hours on the road made everyone restless. Miles felt the tedium as much as anybody, though he managed to contain it far better than Mattie and Cash. Mattie dealt with things by being her annoying and outspoken self. Cash was reacting in an even less ideal fashion. She ate little and she slept even less. Each evening they would pull into a new hotel, and each evening Cash’s light would be one of the very last to go out.
More than once he’d threatened to spank her to sleep, but it was more effective to have her in bed with him. He strongly suspected that she tended to sneak out of bed once he was asleep though, and there was no way to prove otherwise.
“Young lady,” Miles said, catching Cash on her way off the bus as they disembarked in Strasbourg. She was looking decidedly pale and peaky. “Have you eaten anything at all today?”
“I had crackers,” Cash said, batting her eyelashes the way she was wont to do when she knew she was caught out. “And, uhm, some of that green stuff. Celery.”
“Right,” he said, “when we get up to the room, I’m going to order you a proper meal. And you’re going to eat it standing up.”
“Why would I eat it standing up?” Her expression was quizzical.
He did not reply, he simply gave her a hard look until she worked it out for herself. He knew she had when her eyes went wide and she covered her bottom as a matter of reflex. By that time they were in the elevator and nobody besides Miles saw her do it, which was probably fortunate because her entire demeanor was one of perfect guilt.
“Miles, please don’t,” she begged as he escorted her into the suite. “I didn’t not eat to be bad.”
“It doesn’t matter,” he said, picking the master bedroom, which was always assigned to Cash, and leading her there. “I’ve told you a dozen times to make sure you eat.”
“But it’s hard,” she whined, as he sat on the bed and turned her over his lap.
“This will help make it easier,” he replied grimly. It was with very little fanfare that he swept her sweatpants and panties down, baring her bottom. The spanking he had in mind wasn’t intended to be in the slightest bit erotic. He caught her slim thighs between his own, pivoting her over one leg and leaving her to support her own weight on her outstretched hands.
He started spanking her bottom with crisp, hard swats that immediately bought a bloom to her cheeks, and yelps of complaint from her lips. It was the first truly disciplinary spanking he’d given her, and he could tell that she was not enjoying it at all. With no warm up to speak of, heavy swats of his hand singed her cheeks hard and fast, whipping her pale bottom to a red glow.
Cash squealed and cried out for clemency, but he was not in the mood to provide it. Eating was a simple enough task, and it was important. Failing to eat was an inexcusable neglect, and he told her as much in the brief pause between volleys of slaps.
“I’m sorryyy!” She yowled the apology, drumming her toes against the carpet.
“You will eat regularly throughout the day, understand?” He punctuated the question with fresh slaps.
“Yes! Yes!” She would have agreed to anything just to get him to stop spanking. He knew that, but it was still good to hear her agreement. He hoped she’d stick to it.
“I’ve had to talk to you about this several times,” he said, holding her in place whilst he stroked her red-hot bottom. “And I want to make sure this sticks.”
“It will, it will!”
“So you’re going to count out the next ten strokes,” he said. “You’re going to count them out and you’re going to say ‘I will remember to eat’. Do you understand?”
Waiting for her response, he held her in place over his lap. She squirmed and made pathetic noises, hoping to gain clemency. But Miles was not in the mood for clemency. He was in the mood for making a point.
*
Cash couldn’t believe it. Her bottom was so hot and sore she hardly thought she could take a single slap, let alone ten more. And counting them out? And promising to eat? It was more than she could bear.
“Please Miles,” she whimpered. “Don’t make me do that.”
“You’re going to do it, Cash,” he said firmly. “You’re going to do it because you need to remember. And you need to know if you don’t remember, you’re going to be taken to task for it. Now hold still.”
Cash gasped before his hand even landed. When it did, she shrieked. The slap seemed so much harder than any of the others that had preceded it. It added fresh fire to what already felt like a consuming blaze. If her legs hadn’t been trapped between Miles’ hard thighs she would probably have kicked him.
“Cash.” There was warning in his voice when she didn’t say the words.
“One,” she sniffed. She opened her mouth again, but she couldn’t say the rest of it. It was just too embarrassing. It made her feel naughty and small.
“The rest of it, Cash.”
“I will remember to eat,” she added reluctantly in a tearful mumble.
“Good.”
She felt his palm leave her bottom and return again with another hard slap.
“Miles!” She shrieked. “It hurts!”
“Those aren’t the words, Cash,” he insisted, bringing his hand down hard again,
“Two and three!”
“No sweetheart, that was two, and now the words, or we do it again.”
“You’re mean!”
Another slap cut off her protest.
“Two. I will remember to eat,” she whimpered, giving in.
Her ass ached. She wasn’t sure she liked Miles anymore. This treatment went well beyond anything she’d ever expected to receive from him. His usual gentleness had turned to an almost scary determination to discipline.
“Good girl.”
Those two words changed her mood almost instantly, a little reminder of the affection he had for her in the midst of a very painful interlude. Unfortunately the praise didn’t mean that he was letting her off the hook. He made her go all the way up to number ten, by which time her bottom felt like a furnace. She was weeping too, tears of frustration and shame. She was frustrated at herself for not eating, she was frustrated at Miles for disciplining her so harshly, and she was ashamed that such a thing would be necessary.
When it was all over, she felt his leg lock release. His hands slid to her waist as he helped her up and drew her into a tight hug. Nestling her head between his shoulder and neck, she gave way to floods of tears.
He hugged her close, murmuring reassuring words. She couldn’t really hear what he was saying over the sounds of her own sobbing, but the low rumble of his voice was comforting.
She cried for what seemed like an awfully long time and when she stopped she was dead tired and not at all hungry. But Miles instead she have dinner anyway, because he was mean like that.
“You need to start eating regularly, Cash,” he explained. “You’re putting your body into starvation mode. That’s why you don’t think you’re hungry.”
Cash tried to sit down to dinner with Mattie, Kevin and Miles, but as Miles had predicted, sitting was not at all comfortable. She bounced up as soon as she sat down, yelping aloud.
“Jesus, Miles, what did you do to her?” Mattie asked, giving him a dirty look.
“Worry about your own bottom, Mattie,” Kevin said.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Kevin gave her a look, but said nothing further on the issue. Cash and Mattie exchanged nervous glances. With every passing day, they were starting to worry more about what might happen when Kevin discovered their unauthorized performances. It hadn’t been such a big deal when they’d started out. Back then they’d thought of Kevin as a sort of gentle giant, occasionally grumpy, but no real cause for concern. The fact he’d joined Miles on the spanking bandwagon, that upped the stakes of their little artistic experiment quite a bit.
Settling gingerly down onto her
sore bottom, Cash started to pick at her meal. It was a tasty enough chicken breast marinated in Italian herbs and wrapped in panchetta with an asparagus side, but she just couldn’t work up an appetite.
“Cash, you need to eat,” Miles urged her.
“I’m not hungry,” she complained.
“We should order cake,” Mattie suggested. “Everybody loves cake.”
“No,” Miles said firmly. “Cash, eat your dinner.”
“I can’t!” She pushed away from the table and ran for her room, tears of frustration streaming from her eyes. Every step she took was painful, the fabric of her pants rubbing across her raw rear.
Miles followed quickly. “Cash, what’s wrong?”
She laid face down on the bed, hiding from him. “I’m not hungry. I can’t eat. My stomach is all twisted up in knots.”
“Sweetheart,” he said, pulling her close and stroking her hair. “Talk to me.”
She couldn’t talk. She was so upset and she didn’t really even know why. A million reasons rushed through her head. There was the tour, having to move every day, never knowing where she was going to be. Then there was the grim threat of the stalker who had attacked Kevin. She wasn’t really supposed to know about that, but she’d overheard Miles and Kevin talking about it and it scared her.
As Miles encouraged her, some of her thoughts and fears began to tumble out in bits and pieces. Cash was sure there wasn’t a coherent sentence among everything she said, but somehow Miles figured out what she meant anyway.
“I’m not going to let anyone hurt you, Cash, not ever.” He made the promise with quiet certainty. “As for the tour, I know it’s hard. Touring isn’t always fun, it means being away from everything familiar and going to a new city every day and missing home.”
“I don’t even have a home,” Cash sniffed. “I’ve lived in hotels so long I don’t even know what it’s like to go home.”
“Well, when we get back to the States, why don’t you make a home for yourself?”
Cash stilled in his arms. Make a home for herself? Why would he say that? Why would he talk about her making a home as if he wasn’t in the picture at all? Did he not really like her at all? Did he see no future for them?
She pulled away from him. “Look Miles,” she said, trying to get herself together. “You don’t have to baby me. I know this is just a job to you.”
“Who said this was just a job?”
“You did,” she said. “You want me to go back and make a home for myself. By myself.”
A flicker of frustration passed over his handsome face. “I didn’t mean I’d be dumping you the minute we got back,” he said. “I just meant it’s time for you to put some roots down somewhere, that’s all.”
“Oh.”
He gave her a grim look. “It is best not to leap to conclusions, Miss Raine,” he said quite sternly. “It leads to misunderstandings and misunderstandings lead to unnecessary conflict.”
She nodded mutely.
“Now,” he said, “about your appetite…”
“I’m not hungry, Miles,” she said, “really I’m not.”
“You didn’t even try to eat,” he pointed out. “You just pushed the food around the plate. You need to get a little into you.” He smiled suddenly. “Am I going to have to feed you like a baby? Here comes the choo-choo train?”
Cash giggled and shook her head. “No!”
“Well I will, if you don’t come out and at least get some food in you.”
Acquiescing to his desire, Cash went back and tried eating again. Mattie and Kevin were already done, so she and Miles were dining somewhat alone – though Mattie was bouncing around in the back of the suite somewhere, swearing up a storm. Cash didn’t know if it was performance related or a temper tantrum. It was hard to tell with Mattie sometimes.
“Eat something, Miss Raine,” Miles said, drawing her attention back to her plate. “Or the airplane is going to have to take off from base.”
Giggling all over again, Cash gathered up some chicken on her fork. It tasted pretty nice; the bacon lent a rich contrasting meaty flavor. She found, after a bite or two, that she was actually quite hungry. She finished the meal accompanied by Mattie’s dulcet shrieks in the other room.
“Do I get desert now I ate all my dinner?” Cash turned to Miles, wincing as she did. Sitting was painful, swiveling whilst sitting, that was a very bad idea on a sore bottom.
“If you like,” Miles said, smiling.
He was pleased with her. She liked it when he was pleased with her. It gave her a warm, secure glow in her tummy. Which made a change from the hot, tingling glow in her bottom.
“Actually,” Kevin said casually. “I don’t think desert is in order.”
The statement earned a sharp look from Cash and Miles, but Kevin didn’t seem to care.
“I think we’ve got something more important to talk about,” he said. “Now that dinner is done. Cash. Mattie, can I see you in the lounge, please?”
Cash and Mattie looked at one another, sharing the same sense of impending doom. Slowly they both made their way into the lounge. Mattie threw herself into an armchair. Cash remained standing.
“Before we do anything else tonight,” he said. “I want an explanation.”
“An explanation?” Cash gave him a butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth look.
“I may not attend concerts,” Kevin said. “But I do watch videos. And I read forums. I’ve caught up with what you two have been up to in the last couple of weeks and I want an explanation.”
Cash went cold. “I…er…”
Kevin was looking at her steadily and for a second Cash thought back to him spanking Mattie. She glanced around at Miles, nervous. Miles simply shrugged at her. She got the message. She was on her own.
“We’ve just been experimenting,” she said, sounding somewhat lame. The conviction she had on stage faded completely in front of her stern manager.
Kevin was not impressed by her reply in the slightest. “Stop experimenting and go back to the schedule.”
Cash nodded and looked toward the floor, biting her lower lip. “And what if I don’t want to?”
“It’s not much about what you want, Cash. It’s about your obligations. It’s about contracts. You understand, don’t you?”
Cash nodded slowly. “I guess.”
“Mattie can continue to open for you, but she has to stay out of the show. Your performances and hers need to be completely separate.”
“This is bullshit,” Mattie interjected.
“Mattie, this is a business meeting,” Kevin snapped. “If you can’t behave, you’ll have to wait in the bedroom. And I’ll speak with you later.”
Mattie shut her mouth. Cash was also silent as Kevin glared at both of them. “There’s no point sulking,” he said. “You two went behind my back. You tried to hide this from me. You both deserve a good spanking for what you’ve done.”
“Yeah, we tried to do something new, and we did something the fans fucking loved. That’s definitely something to beat us for,” Mattie exclaimed.
Kevin scowled at Mattie. “Just because an audience screams, it doesn’t mean damage isn’t being done. Cash has a demographic. That demographic doesn’t want to see her singing…” he cleared his throat, looked at his smart phone and read a comment directly from the Internet “Satanic songs straight from the devil’s soul.”
“We’ve never sung about Satan,” Cash said, screwing her face up.
“Wait, there’s more…” Kevin began to read again. “Disgusting socialist anthems… communist…” He paused and looked at Cash. “You cannot sing political songs, Cash. Don’t make the mistake of getting political.”
“Plenty of bands sing political songs,” Cash pointed out.
“Yes, bands. Artists. Not pretty young singers… not…”
“Not me,” Cash finished the sentence he was grasping for. “Not sex symbols. Nobody wants sex objects to have something to say, do they? I’m not allowed to hav
e a thought in my head, or to express it. I’m just supposed to smile and shake my ass.”
“Cash…”
“Tell me something,” Cash said, drawing herself up to her full height and fixing Kevin with a steel blue gaze. “If I’m just a sex object, what separates you from a pimp, really?”
There was a gasp from Mattie. “Oh. Shit.”
Kevin’s scowl deepened. Cash had never seen him looking actually angry before, but he looked angry in that moment. Very angry. For a second, she was scared. She backed up a few steps, until her own anger kicked back in, returning her to the fray just in time to catch hell from Kevin.
“I’ve been working my ass off for you for months. You earn ten times what you used to. Right this second you’re on an international tour. I’m making your dreams come true, and this is the thanks I get? You call me a pimp?”
Cash met his anger with her own. “I’m no Eliza Doolittle, Kevin. I was good when you met me and I’ll be good long after you’re gone.”
“Whoa, okay, you two need to settle down,” Mattie broke in, trying to play peacemaker. “Kev, you’re a good manager. You suck up to the labels too much, but you know what you’re doing. Cash, you’re fucking hot and talented and you know it.”
“Fine,” Kevin said, setting his jaw grimly. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You and Mattie can keep doing what you’re doing. God knows I can’t stop you when you’re on stage. But know this, when the label finds out – and they will, it’s all our asses.”
“Fine,” Cash agreed. She spun on her heel and stamped off to her room. She slammed the door shut and threw herself on the bed. She was angry. So angry. Kevin had listened to their music and instead of seeing how amazing it was, all he could think about was the label and the money. His insistence that she stay nothing more than a sex symbol made her feel cheap. It was a complete insult to her and everything she was. More insulting was the fact nobody had come after her. For a long time she looked at the door, willing it to open.
It didn’t.
Chapter Twelve
Irritated by the fact that nobody had come to inquire after her, or sympathize with her, Cash’s annoyance grew. It turned into something more like outright anger. She reminded herself that she’d done nothing wrong, that she was an artist and she was allowed to define her own artistic vision. Kevin had no right to question her, let alone chastise her. As for Mattie! Well, she’d gone very quiet the minute Kevin snapped at her. So much for the famous little rebel.
