Rock the Bodyguard (15 page)

As they drew into Antwerp, Cash
became even more pensive. She should have been thoroughly excited, but she just
wasn't. She felt flat, and slightly ill. She kept those feelings to herself
though and was soon swept up in the familiar routine of make up and wardrobe.
She sat through it all, feeling oddly disconnected from the process. The
feeling of tiredness had yet to dissipate, though she had done her best to
chase it away with a half dozen cans of high caffeine beverages.

When she was declared ready to go
on, she went automatically, moving like a woman in a daze.

Miles must have sensed there was
something wrong. Just before she went on stage, he pulled her aside. “You don't
have to do this, Cash. We can call it. Even now.”

The fans were screaming. She could
hear them, their voices lifted in a cacophony of anticipation. She couldn't
disappoint them. Mustering a smile, she squeezed his hand.

“I am okay,” she lied.

She was not okay. Her head was
ringing and her throat felt dry and she wasn't sure how she was going to make
it through one song, let alone an entire lineup. But she had to. This was her
calling and there were people already shrieking their lungs out for her, people
who had paid money and waited in line and willingly packed into a stadium just to
see her. She couldn't disappoint them. She wouldn't.

When the bass line for Rodeo Stick
came thundering through the speakers she shut her eyes tightly and tried to
force herself into the present moment as she took her place and waited for the
show to begin.

The lights went up, the crowd went
wild and she began to sing.

“
Rodeo, Rod....”

She didn't make it two words in
before the hot lights faded, darkness swirled in and that was the last Cash
knew of anything...

... until she opened her eyes in a
small pleasant room. The blinds were drawn across the windows, but it was
clearly a sunny day outside. She felt rested, oh so rested. There was a clean,
somewhat clinical scent that told her she was probably in hospital.

“Cash.”

She looked to her left and saw Miles.
He looked terrible. His face was long and drawn, strangely sallow. He was
wearing a black t-shirt that looked as though it had been slept in for days and
there was uncharacteristic stubble growing around his chin. In spite of his
clear exhaustion, he was still handsome, his dark eyes lit with passion. Her
heart rose at seeing him, then sank almost immediately when she realized she
was the reason he was in such rough condition.

“Cash,” he said again. “You're
awake.”

“I am,” she agreed. “What
happened?” Her memory was a blur. She thought she'd done the concert, but she
didn't really remember ever having gone on stage. The last she really
remembered she was on the bus with Mattie and Miles and Kevin.

“You collapsed on stage,” Miles
explained. “The good news is that the doctors have ruled out everything besides
poor nutrition and overwork. You just need to keep getting rest.”

“What about the tour?”

Miles' jaw clenched slightly and
his expression grew hard at the mention of work. “The tour is over.”

“But the fans...”

“Don't you worry about the fans,”
he interrupted firmly. “You worry about you.”

Cash squirmed in bed. She suddenly
had the very strong feeling that she was in trouble.

“I'm going to be making sure you
eat right and get the rest you need,” he said, confirming her suspicions. “No
more staying up to all hours working your little ass off, no more skipping
meals.”

“I have to stay in shape,” she
protested.

“And you will.”

The look on Miles' face that told
Cash there was no point arguing. Besides, she wasn't in the mood to argue
anyway. She turned on her side and gazed at Miles, reaching out for his hand.

“I'm sorry if I scared you,” she
said. “I didn't mean to faint, honest.”

“I'm sure you didn't,” he said, his
expression softening.

“Where are Kevin and Mattie? Did
they go home?”

“They stuck around,” Miles said.
“The rest of the tour has gone on home though.”

“That's nice,” Cash said, smiling a
little. She was glad that Kevin and Mattie hadn't gone as well. She would have
missed them.

“Mattie is driving Kevin crazy,”
Miles smirked and shook his head. “Which is good for him. And for her.”

As if on cue, the sound of
bickering down the hall somewhere floated through the partly open door.

“Quit smacking me!”

“Quit deserving it,” Kevin's lower
voice replied. There was another loud smack and a squeak.

“Dammit, that hurt!”

“Good.”

“You bas..”

“Shh, you'll wake Cash.”

“She's in a coma or something. She
won't wake up.”

“You'd wake the dead.”

Cash was grinning when they walked
through the door together. Unlike Miles, Mattie and Kevin actually looked quite
relaxed. Kevin was wearing his usual designer jeans and a t-shirt and he'd
grown his beard out longer still. Mattie had abandoned some of her harsh Goth
aesthetic in favor of a hot pink tank top and a short skirt with long winter
boots, flat heeled of course. An outfit for all seasons, or no seasons,
depending on how you looked at it.

“Cash! You're awake!” Mattie flew
to her and hugged her tight.

“So Miles tells me,” Cash said,
smiling as Mattie hugged her. “Hi Kevin.”

“Hello Cash, glad to see you
awake,” Kevin said, his pleasure showing clearly. “You gave us a fright.”

“And you gave the media lots of
headlines. Did you know you're hooked on crack cocaine? It's true, it's totally
true,” Mattie snorted.

“Really,” Cash nodded.
“Fascinating. What else have I been up to?”

“There's also rumors of pregnancy,”
Mattie added. “You're not pregnant, are you?”

“Not unless it's a virgin birth,”
Cash murmured without much thinking about it. The silence that followed her
comment made her look up into Mattie and Kevin's slightly stunned faces.
“What?”

“I thought that 'virgin' thing was
just a tag line,” Mattie said. “I didn't think you actually...”

“Well it's not a topic that comes
up in mixed company,” she shrugged, blushing slightly.

“You two can have your girl talks
later,” Kevin said. “Cash, you need to rest. You need to get your strength back
– and you need to come up with something to tell the label executives.”

“What?”

“I told you they wouldn't be
pleased,” he said grimly. “After your little fainting episode, the label
started looking into this tour. They'll be having a word to you about your
off-message performances.”

“Right on!” Mattie lifted up her
hand for Cash to high five her, but Kevin took advantage of the motion to draw
her away with a stern scowl, his large hand wrapped around her slim wrist.

Mattie responded by kicking him
swiftly in the shin. “Quit manhandling me!”

“You've been enough of a bad
influence on Cash,” Kevin growled down at Mattie. “It's time you stopped
encouraging her.”

“You can both stop it,” Miles
interjected. “She only just woke up and you're already on her case. There will
be no more work talk. If you can't be human beings first, you can both leave
now.”

To their credit, both Kevin and
Mattie stopped and looked ashamed.

“For the next week,” Miles said,
turning to Cash, “you aren't Cash Raine. You're a young lady on holiday and
you'll act like it. There will be no singing, no dancing, no writing, nothing
to do with work at all. Do you understand me?”

“Yessir,” Cash agreed. “What about
the executives?”

“They will wait until you're
better,” Miles said firmly.

Cash nodded outwardly, but inwardly
she was consumed with fresh concern. Would the label drop her? Did they have
any damn right to? She started to feel anger all over again, a growing
annoyance that made her stomach feel all tight and her heart beat faster.

“Hey,” Miles interjected. “Cut it
out, I can see you winding yourself up right there.”

Busted. Cash grinned
apologetically, “I'm sorry,” she said, “It's just...”

“No excuses, young lady,” Miles
said. “Work will take care of itself for a few days. In the meantime you are
going to have a proper holiday.”

“With me!” Mattie said, perching on
the end of the bed. “You and me, Cash, we're going to paint this village red.”
She held up two fingers. “Two coats, at least.”

“The only thing getting two coats
of red will be your bottoms if you don't take it easy,” Miles interjected. “If
you two break the holiday rules together, you'll find out what its like to be
spanked together.”

Mattie scowled rebelliously.
“You're not the boss of me,” she said. “The tour is over.”

“I'm the boss of you,” Kevin
reminded her, his hand clamping down on the back of her neck in a way that made
her give a little puppy-like yelp. “And I'm with Miles a hundred percent on
this. You two can go to spas, take afternoon tea and go for country walks.”

“Oh, I'm sorry,” Mattie bit back
smartly. “I thought we were going on holiday in Belgium, not in the year 1800.”

Cash broke into giggles as Kevin
glowered at Mattie.

“Shall we also wear our crinolines?
Do you want a man with a flag to walk in front of the car when we drive
anywhere?” Mattie was on a roll, much to Cash's amusement. Even Miles, stern,
taciturn Miles, cracked a hint of a smile.

“No,” Kevin replied. “But I'll tell
you what I do think is a good idea, a birch rod. That would be period
appropriate and it might stop you from running your mouth.”

“Birch? Bitch, I don't even know
what that is,” Mattie replied, getting way, way ahead of herself and crossing a
line she probably shouldn't have crossed.

Kevin responded immediately and
appropriately, tipping her over to slap her backside very soundly. Without her
usual jeans on there was nothing to stop him from flipping her skirt up,
revealing a tight round bottom covered in soft bikini panties, resplendent with
a cupcake and cloud pattern. He snorted at the sight and laid his hand right
across the seat of those cute panties until Mattie cried out for clemency.

“Do you understand the rules now, Mattie?”
He released her, letting her skirt tip back to cover her behind.

Mattie scuttled away from him,
rubbing her bottom enthusiastically. “Yeah, I get the rules, my liege.”

Kevin's brow rose. “Sounds like
little Miss Smart Ass needs a sore ass.”

“Smart ass needs a sore ass sounds
like a dinosaur,” Mattie rejoined. “And I'm done with getting smacked. Smack
Cash, she's the one who got herself all worn out.”

Cash's eyes went wide at the
betrayal. She felt Miles' large hand pat hers and turned to see him looking at
her.

“Don't worry,” he said softly. “I
will be tending to Cash personally, later on.”

Cash let out a little whimper and
squirmed in the bed, fighting the sudden urge to hide under the blankets. Miles
looked so stern and she knew he'd been serious about her taking care of
herself. Her collapse was clear evidence that she'd disobeyed him. Miles did
not like to be disobeyed and he really didn't like her to not take care of
herself. All the concern she had regarding the executives was dissolved in fresh
anxiety relating to a much more intimate part of her person – just what was
Miles going to do to her bottom?

Cash was soon released from the
clinic and true to his word, Miles was dead set on having her take a holiday.
To that end he’d organized a holiday home in a little Belgian village, which
looked to Cash like something out of a fairy tale book. It was all low ceilings
and wooden beams and lead glass windows that turned the sun into a work of
curling art on the polished wooden floors. She fell in love with the place
almost immediately, going from room to room, drinking in the history and
culture.

“It's wonderful,” she breathed.
“You can just sort of feel all the people who lived here before, can't you?
It's as if the walls really do talk.”

“I agree,” Miles said, ushering her
into the master bedroom. “This room, for instance. I imagine many naughty women
have had their bottoms spanked in this room, just like you.”

She turned and looked up at him
with wide, hopefully innocent eyes. “But I haven't done anything.”

“I told you not to go on if you
weren't up to it, Cash,” he reminded her. “And I told you to make sure you got
enough sleep and ate well. Instead you worked yourself unconscious.”

“I can't help it! My job is hard!”

“It is,” Miles agreed. “Especially
when you let it consume your life. I'm going to help you with that.”

Cash frowned and stomped her foot.
She was feeling much healthier and she no longer saw why it was fair to get in
trouble for having felt sick. “I don't need help,” she said. “You're just being
mean.”

“And you're trying to argue your
way out of discipline,” Miles replied.

“Because I don't need it!”

“I watched you drop on the stage as
if a bullet had hit you,” he said, speaking softly. “Do you know what that felt
like? To see you hurt? To see you lose consciousness altogether? To not know
what was wrong? To fear the absolute worst?”

Cash looked into his eyes and saw a
fraction of the concern he’d felt at the time. He still looked thoroughly
exhausted, the product of days and nights of worrying about her.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t
know that was going to happen.”

“You work yourself like you’re a
machine,” he said. “You were so exhausted you just dropped and almost stopped
breathing. You might be feeling well enough now, but it took them days to get
you stable. You were malnourished, Cash.”

Guilt began to swallow her from the
inside out, a slow creeping darkness that permeated her entire body. “I’m
sorry,” she repeated softly.

“Don’t tell me you’re sorry,” he
said. “You owe yourself an apology. You haven’t been kind to yourself. You
haven’t even stopped to consider yourself in all of this. The music, you cared
enough to do something about that, but you didn’t do anything to make sure you
held body and soul together.”

“It wasn’t that bad, it was just a
little exhaustion...”

“Your heart could have stopped,” he
interrupted her. “You were running on fumes, Cash.” His face tightened with
agitation. “The phrase ‘working yourself into the ground’ applies to you. You
are on the verge of putting yourself six feet under with this lifestyle.”

“Okay,” Cash said. “Then let’s get
some lunch. I’m hungry.”

It was about the only thing she
could have said that would have stopped him in his lecturing, and it was
effective.

Hand in hand, they walked through
the little Belgian village. It was beautiful and oh so peaceful. Nobody seemed
to know who she was. If they did know, they certainly didn’t care. Caught up in
the natural beauty of the town that sat at the edge of a verdant valley
surrounded by white tipped mountains, Cash made a silent wish that she would
always be so happy. Concerts and show business seemed very far away in that
place, where the only sounds were the chirping of birds and the chattering of
insects.

Miles lead her to an open air
tavern, where pretty ruddy-cheeked young women were serving lunches consisting
of thick curled sausages, fermented cabbage and beer. She was soon presented
with her own serving of the lunch, which seemed to be a one size fits all
option. Cash was a little uncertain about the flagon of brown brew deposited in
front of her. She looked at Miles askance.

“You need the calories,” he said.
“Just go easy on it.”

The sausage was full of fat, the
sort of thing Cash would normally never have eaten, but she was smart enough to
sense that Miles would not tolerate her refusing food. So she made a decent
attempt at it, finding that it was incredibly tasty and seasoned to perfection.
The sharp tang of sauerkraut made a tasty counterpoint to the fatty sausage
and, when washed down with cool beer, the meal attained a pleasing completion.

Miles said little as they ate, but
Cash was happy just to sit next to him. For once she felt as if he was just a
man and she was just a woman. Roles of bodyguard and starlet were forgotten as
they feasted on good, simple food and enjoyed the sunshine and fresh air. She
found herself drifting into a little fantasy world where she and Miles were
boyfriend and girlfriend, just two normal people being normal. That sounded
like paradise to her.

“I think I could live here
forever,” Cash sighed at the end of the meal. Her stomach was full and she was
entirely content. “It’s like a fairytale.”

“It is beautiful,” Miles agreed.

There was still tension about him,
tension Cash knew she had been the cause of. “I’m really, really sorry, Miles,”
she said. “I just... I got so focused on work.”

He nodded. “I know,” he said,
offering his hand. Together they left the little tavern and kept wandering
through the village until they happened on the edge of the forest that rose up
the mountainside.

“I care about you, Cash,” he said,
leading her down a leafy trail. “I hope you know that.”

“I know,” she said, “and I’m
sorry.”

She got the sense that they were
going somewhere. Miles looked as though he had been there before, he moved with
purpose as he led her down the winding trail, through the woods until they
reached a glen. There, soft grass filled the area open to the sun, creating a
little space out of time and out of the world, a place where there was nothing
but dappled sunlight and a seat created by a fallen tree.

“Do you see that tree branch?”

Cash nodded, nervous.

“You’re going to go lay over it,”
Miles said. “I’m going to pull your pants and panties down and you, my girl,
are going to get a switching.”

She looked at him and saw that he
had something in his hand. A thin, whippy green branch, very smooth and about a
foot and a half long. “You... wha?”

Taking her by the hand, he urged
her over to the place of her reckoning.

“This is the perfect spot for
reminding a young lady about what is important in life,” he said, pressing her
gently forward over the thick log. It was so thick and round that when her hips
were raised high over the center of the curve her toes did not touch the
ground. She grasped at a knot in the trunk for security as Miles’ large warm
hands worked her pants and panties down her thighs.

Then there was the soft brush of
the breeze against her bare bottom, the gentle heat of the sun against her
cheeks. She was bared, oh so publicly. As with the other times she had been
spanked, she couldn’t help but notice that Miles did not acknowledge her
nudity. She was shamefully exposed in the position; she knew that her downy
lips and tight bottom hole were quite visible to anyone who cared to look - certainly
to Miles.

“What if someone sees?” She gasped
the question as he rubbed his palm over her bottom.

“All anyone will see is a naughty
girl being disciplined the way all naughty girls have been disciplined since
the very dawn of time,” Miles said, slapping her left cheek lightly.

Squirming, Cash felt a blush rising
to her face. She knew she deserved this. She knew Miles had promised it if she
did not take good care of herself. It was comforting to know that he intended
to set limits for her. It was less comforting when she felt the thin switch
brushing against her bottom.

Miles rested his palm on her lower
back, securing her in place. “This is going to sting, Miss Raine,” he said,
lapsing back into his authoritarian mode of speaking. “But you will survive it.”

He raised the switch and brought it
down in a stroke that immediately seared against Cash’s rump. It felt as though
a thin bolt of lightening had zapped across the center of her cheeks. She
yelped, then yelped again as the treatment was repeated.

There was no warm up, or any of the
usual little love taps that usually proceeded Miles’ spankings. There was only
the switch whipping up and down through the afternoon air, swishing against her
bottom in a series of unrelenting snaps that left her with the makings of
dozens of little welts.

The intensity of the little switch
was more than she could ever have anticipated. Before long she was crying out
for his mercy, promising that she would take good care of herself, entreating
him to spank her with his hand, oh please spank her with his hand. She squirmed
around to look at him and pled with watery eyes, but there was only firmness in
his gaze. His eyes were locked on her bottom, the hot source of the relentless
sting that was overloading her nervous system. She could no longer stand to
stay still, she squirmed and wriggled as hot tears began to escape and roll
down her cheeks. Still he switched her, the implement biting against her bottom
like a giant gnat.

“Next time you think about skipping
a meal, or staying up late, you remember this,” Miles said. “You remember how
your bottom feels right now.”

He emphasized the point by lashing
the switch under the curve of her cheeks, catching the sensitive skin where she
would later want to sit. Her whole bottom felt hot and tight, it was hard to
kick and squirm because every movement only seemed to exacerbate the sting that
had grown into a holy hellfire.

Just when she thought she couldn’t
take any more switching, when her cries began to turn into howls, he stopped.
Laying the switch down, he ran his hand over her bottom. It was probably
supposed to be soothing, but the touch of his palm made Cash jerk against the
log and cry out with the new sensation of soreness.

“Poor girl,” Miles said. “You’re
practically burning up back here.” His tone was sympathetic, and as he
continued rubbing, some of the sting began to fade into the general heat. “Have
I made my point, Cash?”

“Yes!” Cash was quick to acquiesce.
“I promise I will be good.”

He chuckled softly. “You didn’t
have to think about that much, did you?” His hand slid over her lower cheeks,
over the cleft at the base of her bottom where her pussy lips were nestled
safely away from the punitive sting of the switch. “Remember,” he said. “You’re
a person first, Cash. You’re not a product, you’re not a singing, dancing
machine.”

“I will remember,” she sniffed.

“Good,” he said, smoothing his palm
back across her bottom. This time the very tips of his fingers brushed lightly
against her bare mons. “Does that feel better?”

“Yes,” she breathed, arching her
hot red bottom up to him. “That feels much better.”

He let his fingertips play
teasingly against her lips, tracing the outline of her arousal. She couldn’t
control the response. Even after a switching, just the sensation of being half
naked and hot bottomed with the masterful man who could play her body like an
instrument made her wet. He traced the outline of her lips tenderly with a
forefinger, then parted her outer lips and stroked the softer, wetter folds
that lay within.

“Quit teasing me,” Cash moaned.
“It's not fair.”

“It wouldn't be proper to go much
further than this,” Miles said. “Not yet.”

“But I want you...” There was
desperate need in her voice. She wanted him more than anything or anyone in the
world. She would have given her entire fortune in that moment to have him move
around behind her and sink his thick, gorgeous cock inside her.

“You want release, that’s what you
want,” he said, slapping his fingers lightly across her slit. She could feel
her lips becoming more engorged and slick as he touched her. Her body was doing
all it could to invite him in and still he resisted.

“I want you inside me,” she said.
“I want you to fuck me.”

She was rewarded for her crude
speech with a very firm slap that caught her right in the middle of her cheeks.

“Language, Miss Raine,” Miles said,
a smile in his voice. “We will make love when the time is right.”

“When will that be?” She spread her
legs wide and wanton, the movement giving her the opportunity to press her clit
against the rough bark of the tree.

“I am going to need a chastity belt
for you, I think,” Miles murmured. “To keep you pure.” He ran his hand over her
wet pussy, slapping gently above her clit. The motion almost drove her crazy
with desire, but still he would not fulfill her fantasy.

“Please...”

“Miss Raine, this was supposed to
be a disciplinary session. Please tell me I do not need to remind you of that.”