Chapter 5

 

DANICA

 

 

The room was spinning. The world was a haze. As red ran down the walls and the pommel horse dug into Danica’s stomach, she braced herself for the impact stinging her flesh.

It felt better than she could have ever imagined.

Too good to be true… Didn’t she love it? The forbidden touch meant to arouse every fiber of her being? She already couldn’t tell her mother and sisters so much about her love life. It was enough that they knew she was gay. Knowing that she not only favored kinky sex, but craved the harsh admonishments of an experienced mistress? Some nights, it was hard enough for her to admit it to herself… and this was a woman well versed in the receiving end of such erotic arts.

Her last girlfriend had been a Domme, after all.

Yet in that first spank, Danica already knew that Cherry was leagues above anyone else Danica had ever been with. The strike was too precise, hitting the exact spot of Danica’s ass that would feel the most sting without leaving behind much of a mark. Not yet, anyway. Danica could walk back out into the VIP lounge with her ass hanging out, and nobody would be none the wiser. Not yet, anyway…

“Do you want another one?” Cherry drew a line along Danica’s spine, making her knees shake and her ballet flats slip against the floor. “Press your thighs together and tell me you want another one. Don’t forget your manners, either.”

Danica released the handles of the pommel horse and allowed her hands to flutter toward the floor. It was the only way to raise her ass higher into the air as she squeezed her thighs together and wished to God she hadn’t worn any underwear that night. Her thong was hugging her crack and teasing her clit like nothing before. This was maddening. Fuck it, this is amazing!

“Spank me again, please, Mistress,” she said, eyes slammed shut and hands balled into anticipating fists.

This time when Cherry spanked her, Danica saw nothing but the back of her own eyelids – which meant she felt nothing but the delightful pain exploding through her body. I can’t believe she’s the one spanking me right now… If Danica had stood on that national stage and looked into Cherry’s eyes to see this… Well, shit. She would have intentionally thrown her audition just to be a bigger brat.

“You have to tell me if you want another one. Show me how much you can take.”

Danica didn’t want to disappoint her. That’s why every time another spank landed on her ass, she cried, “Another, please!” As if she hadn’t considered the consequences of her actions! If she talks to the other music insiders about this… they’ll all know what I’m like… This would ruin her chances forever. Was that part of the thrill? She was throwing her dreams away for a more practical life back home, anyway. This wasn’t only a last hurrah for Danica. This was her getting back at Cherry by showing her what she had missed out on by not signing her. As an artist… or her assistant!

I would have gladly become her assistant if the job would have been like this.

“Ah!” Danica jerked against the pommel horse when another spank got her so hard that she almost completely lost her balance. “Fuck!”

“Did you know…” Cherry’s hands were on either side of Danica, fingers pressing into the pommel horse while her whole, clothed body pressed against Danica’s bare and red ass. “You’re getting really wet.”

A chuckle fell from those lips hovering above Danica’s head. She almost expected Cherry to plant a kiss upon her, yet it never came. Like everything else, a kiss was a tease. A promise of something more, although Danica better not count on ever getting it. If she did, then it was a gift from Heaven, and she should fall to her knees and thank the angel now gracing her mortal presence.

“Why don’t you open those gorgeous legs of yours for me?” A hand gripped Danica’s waist, pressing her against the horse and refusing to let her go. That pressure was enough to make Danica know what it would be like pinned beneath Cherry’s ravenous body. I want to know. I have to know. This couldn’t end here. Danica had to open her legs. Now.

Except when she tried, her weakened knees wobbled so hard that she almost lost her grip on the pommel horse.

Cherry clicked her tongue in her mouth. “Typical. You need more training.” She stepped away. Had Danica disappointed her mistress of the night? No… That was more heartbreaking than losing out at the chance of a musical career. Either way, she had to make Cherry happy. It couldn’t end here!

Cherry kicked open a chest at the far side of the room. The chains and long pieces of metal entering her hold instantly caught Danica’s imagination.

She’s gonna…

Sure enough, Cherry helped Danica spread her legs and planted a gentle kiss against the sore flesh of her ass. That was merely a distraction from the shackles clamping around her ankles. Now, no matter what Danica voluntarily – or involuntarily – did, she couldn’t close her legs for all the money in the world.

Cherry had been right. That wasn’t merely sweat on Danica’s thighs. That was her body begging to be given the real relief she craved.

“Go on,” Cherry chided. “Ask for more.”

“More…?”

“More of my hand. Don’t you want it?”

God, did she! Danica’s whole body was shaking. Sweat dripped from her brow. There wasn’t a part of her that didn’t want Cherry’s hands all over her body. Especially that particular area that craved for more than a little release.

“I want it,” Danica moaned.

“Then tell me what you want.”

Danica couldn’t believe she struggled this hard to say a damn thing. Couldn’t she get her throat to lighten up a bit? Her voice to be heard? What, was this hard? This was a hot woman who often haunted her dreams offering her whatever she wanted!

“Spank me, Mistress.”

This time, the smack felt so good that it was almost enough to give Danica an orgasm.

Yet it was never enough. No matter how many times Cherry spanked her, it wasn’t enough for Danica to fully embrace the feeling swimming within her heart and loins. She needed to give herself to Cherry. A swat to ass, no matter how pleasurable and close it came to touching that heightened sense of intimacy, was only foreplay. Why didn’t Cherry really want her? Had Danica done something wrong? Was this all she wanted from the girl who didn’t have enough “charisma?” How about now? Could Cherry safely say she saw the charisma in Danica’s personality now?

Maybe Danica merely had to speak up for herself.

“Fuck me, Mistress.” The spreader bar rattled around her ankles when she pushed herself up, mindful of the pain flaring in her imbued flesh. “Please. Fuck me.”

At first, she heard and felt nothing. Nothing aside from her own breath and the desire swelling between her spread legs. Cherry was either teasing her… or so disgusted with Danica that this was the end of the ride. Cherry never intended to actually fuck Danica. Why get her fingers dirty? Cherry hadn’t taken off any of her clothes yet.

Then…

“Say it one more time.” Cherry’s fingers walked around Danica’s ass, taunting her lonely slit. “I want to feel it from your soul.”

Danica didn’t spare a minute to think about what that meant. Why would she, when everything felt as natural as making love?

“Fuck me.” She craned her head over her shoulder, looking Cherry right in those bright and salacious eyes. “Please, Mistress. Fuck me any way you want.”

That was the grandest invitation she could offer. For after that? Danica was lost to her own sordid imagination.

It helped that she was soon joined by Cherry, who grabbed Danica’s ass with one hand and slammed right into her pussy with the other.

Fuck, I wish it was her whole hand. Danica thought that, yet she was already groaning because of the single finger easing in and out of her. Who was she to think she could take any more than that? I’m some nobody from the Midwest, right? LA had chewed her up and spat her out like she was nothing. Cherry had made it. Danica barely remembered where the star producer was from, but she knew it wasn’t LA. Cherry was tough enough – and smart enough – to best everyone in her way and become the top bitch in the room. She snapped her fingers and had women like Danica falling to their knees to please her. What took her so long to seduce me, anyway? Danica had been coming to this club on and off for God knew how many months. Yet she never caught a glimpse of the VIP room until now.

This finger in her pussy was obviously fate.

So was the hand on her ass. For Cherry wasn’t about to let that go without attention, too.

Only now when Danica was spanked, she felt the full effect. Every smack tightened her muscles and made her inner walls close in on Cherry’s finger, which was never afraid to go as deep as it could – or as hard, for that matter. Those initial gentle strokes had transformed into the very thing Danica had been saving herself for all night. Right where it matters most… Danica was easy. One only had to ask her ex. Or Cherry. Both women had found her G-spot in about as much time as it took them to decide to take her home.

“Another…” Danica couldn’t complete her sentence without groaning loudly enough to break her own heart. “Please. Another.”

“Another spank?” Cherry gave that to her readily, much like she gave Danica a kiss to the back of the neck and a squeeze to her breast. “Or did you mean something else? You have to be specific. There’s so much going on back here.”

Yes, Danica wanted another spank. She wanted her ass swatted until she couldn’t feel anything back there any longer. I would learn everything there is to know about being a professional singer if she was the one handing out the discipline every time I made a mistake… The way this was going, though, Danica would want a spank for her reward at the end of a productive day. I wouldn’t want to walk again.

“Another finger, please…” Surely, Danica’s legs were spread wide enough for it!

“I’ll give you as many fingers as you can take.” Those words were accompanied with an ecstatic purr. “If you let me hear how loud your voice can really get.”

Done. As soon as a second finger touched her – let alone entered her – Danica removed any filter to her moans and cries of jubilation. After all, it was what this woman wanted, and Danica was to the point she would give Cherry whatever she wanted.

“Louder.” Cherry’s fingers hooked against Danica’s core, bringing her to the edge of insanity. “Let me hear it from your diaphragm.”

In case Danica needed some inspiration, another spank hit her ass, and she was compelled to scream in blessed defeat. She’s got me. I’m hers now. Was there any doubt from the moment Danica walked into the VIP lounge and saw her future sitting at the piano? Hell, one could argue that Danica had belonged to Cherry the moment they met on that fated TV show. That means I was cheating on her when I was with my ex. No. If it had been Cherry’s will, then Danica was allowed to be with someone else. Cherry didn’t fuck women who weren’t ready for her brand of flesh-red love.

“I love your ass.” The smack hitting the room was much like the others, only this time it was peppered with the word love. “I love the way it moves beneath my touch. And I love your soft pussy. I bet I’d love the sound of you coming more than anything else.”

She wrapped her arm around Danica, leaning against her back and cradling her pussy with a firm hand.

“Show me how much you love the way I touch you. You’re about to pop.”

“May I?” Danica asked.

Fingers pushed within her. “Absolutely.”

It didn’t take long for Danica to match Cherry’s rhythmic thrust. They were both musicians, after all. If they couldn’t understand a simple beat, then what good were they? All Danica needed was someone setting the tempo for her. She could easily follow. Her voice could take her anywhere.

When she did come, she swore her throat would kill her in the morning.

Not that it did Danica any good when it took every last bit of concentration to not fall headfirst over the pommel horse. Or let one of the handles bruise her abdomen, which was having enough problems containing her shrieks of unbridled pleasure. She couldn’t control anything else, after all. Her legs were locked apart. Cherry had her by the hips and pressed upon her like the loveliest weight in the world. Even Danica’s breaths were not her own. She was a slave to the tempo that Cherry set, and it would end her career – her life – if she forsook it.

She was so loud that everyone in the lounge probably heard her through the walls. Or through the vents, for all Danica knew. She didn’t care. All of LA could know her for what she was. As long as it was Cherry’s, then there was no shame in it.