Breakpoint Pt. 01

"All of her tennis struggles come from her attitude," I continued. "She expects to win automatically, without the hard work. She doesn't want to adjust her game for her opponent, or even how she is playing. When she doesn't get a call, or makes an error, she has a tantrum. Her anger then destroys her concentration."

"Yes, she is passionate, my little Sashka," said Mikhail with some affection. "But, you are correct, she needs to not get so upset, to harness that passion instead."

"If you want to her to win, we need to change her attitude completely. Passion is good, but she must be strong mentally, and in control of herself. Mature enough to handle failure, or not getting what she wants."

"Yes, good, if you can make her not a spoiled brat, as you say, I will pay you a million dollar bonus! Haha! Please do!"

He clearly thought I was talking about the impossible, and in many ways, I was.

"I started the process today," I began, steeling myself for what I wanted to say next. "I found her difficult. She insulted me from the beginning, ignored my authority, and yelled at me, so I spanked her."

"You... what?" Mikhail asked, chuckling as he thought he had misheard me.

"I spanked her," I repeated.

"You SPANKED my Sashka?!" he exclaimed. The good natured friendliness was gone and I heard a very angry father on the other end of my phone. I imagined the Russian henchman with a pistol now, and glanced around the dark gardens just in case.

"Yes, I'm not proud of it, but she was acting like a little girl and it was the only thing that I could think of to cut through her attitude," I continued, hearing him breathe heavily in shock. I hoped Sasha's temper wasn't inherited. "Nothing improper, trust me." That was pushing it, as if spanking a grown woman could ever not be improper. "I just gave her a few swats to get her attention during a tantrum. And it worked, she stopped arguing with me, and even listened to me!"

Mikhail was silent for a while, then he gave me a nervous laugh.

"Maybe I should have spanked her earlier, you may be right," he said at last. "But I don't like you doing that... she was not upset?"

"You talked to her yourself, I was surprised she didn't complain. I thought you were calling to fire me!"

"Yes, I see now," Mikhail said, as if pieces were clicking into place in his mind. "Gregory, I appreciate you being honest with me. I feel like I can trust you, so don't worry about being fired. I would rather you not do that again, however..."

"I may need to," I pressed. "If I can get her to focus, and listen, she will eventually realize on her own that she needs to mature and get control of herself, and end these tantrums. The threat of physical punishment, well, it's the only thing that seemed to get her attention. If I can fix her temper, she will be unstoppable."

"If you must, but, yes, let's see how it goes," Mikhail said, sounding a bit torn. "She seems pleased with you, so maybe you are right and a bit stricter might be good for her given how I've indulged her. I don't want her upset, but I don't see the harm if you are not improper."

"She'd tell you if I was," I reassured him.

"Very well," Mikhail said, sounding more confident. "Yes, she would. I hope you can get her motivated and get her head in the right direction. Yes, good, maybe the less I know the better as I've spoiled her too much and wouldn't want her to be disciplined like that if you had asked me. I value results. If she is happy, and playing to her ability, I'm fine with whatever tactics you use to get her there. Don't tell me or expect a call, unless she complains to me that you are improper. But, Gregory, I do not want her to call me upset with your... discipline. It should be a last resort. Do you understand?"

"Yes, perfectly. Thank you, Mikhail. This wasn't something I would ever do normally, but she is a special case and it helped today. I didn't want to sign the contract without you knowing."

I felt a little rush of relief as we hung up. The guilt over what I'd done was gone, and the fear as well. Mikhail had even given me some loose permission to continue. Of course, he wouldn't have approved of what I'd done today if he'd seen it, but he also probably didn't know his daughter was masturbating in the open and trying to fuck me out of spite.

My spanking her should be the least of his worries!

----------

"Sasha, no! I don't want to. It's not normal," Yelena pleaded.

"Don't be silly, Lena, you deserve it," Sasha countered. She switched to Russian and I heard the word Prague repeated twice. "You lied to me. Now come."

Somehow, I'd wandered around outside of the wing I shared with Sasha instead of going directly to the back door. The Russians were drinking in the pool house, on the other side of the grounds, and the Villa was dark except for the light from Sasha's room that spilled onto her patio. I'd heard voices as I approached, and now peered around the hedge carefully.

Sasha was seated on the coach, still wearing her shorts and short sleeve shirt. The TV had been on, but I'd heard them switch it off as I approached. Yelena stood in front of her, in the same casual attire as Sasha, but had a look of anguish on her face. The double doors to the balcony were open and their voices carried perfectly in the heavy night air.

"Sasha... why? Why do you want to make me do this?" Yelena sounded almost in tears.

More Russian, firm and commanding this time. I watched as Yelena sulked for a second, then hooked her thumbs in her shorts and pulled them down. She was wearing a pair of full cut cotton knickers, light blue in color.

"Your knickers too."

With a sigh, Yelena dropped those down as well and stepped out of them. Her ass faced me, a pair of perky and very white grapefruits perched at the top of two slender legs. Her rear wasn't as full and muscled as Sasha's, but I found it cute enough as she shifted uncomfortably in front of the taller blonde.

"Now, lie across my lap," ordered Sasha as she patted her thighs. Yelena hesitated, but a few more harsh words in Russian from Sasha made her comply. She climbed onto the couch and positioned herself as ordered, her bare ass directly below Sasha's face.

"Lying girls get punished, Lena," said Sasha matter-of-factly as she rubbed a palm around Yelena's small bum. "This will remind you how to behave better."

I was hard, I realized. I'd never finished myself off from earlier and all my pent up desire came surging back at this kinky sight. I knelt, glancing around the quiet and dark grounds, and unzipped my shorts. My cock had to be maneuvered out with some tugging as it was throbbingly erect already, but I wrapped my fingers around it and began to stroke slowly.

What I was doing was so wrong, but after my behavior this afternoon I brushed aside any remorse immediately.

The fact that Sasha was spanking her, like I'd just spanked her earlier, was significant. I couldn't devote any of my mind to thinking about what it meant right now, instead I just let it turn me on more. In some strange way, I felt like I deserved to watch this since Sasha was imitating me and I was getting some insight into her evidently twisted brain.

Then again, how could I think Sasha was twisted when I was the one jerking off in the dark outside her window? To keep things simple, I forced myself to refuse to consider how perverted I was acting, instead focusing only on the scene unfolding before me as if I was watching a video. There was plenty of time for guilt and self-recrimination later, after I came.

"This is for sneaking around and entering tournaments without my permission," said Sasha, slapping one of Yelena's cheeks hard. The meaty smack rang out loudly, followed closely by Yelena's high pitched gasp. Another spank followed, this one on the other cheek. "And that is for not leaving with me at dinner, like a friend should."

"Sasha, p-please, I'm sorry!"

"I know you are, Lena" replied Sasha sweetly. Another series of spanks followed. "This if for flirting with my new coach. Don't deny it."

"I-I wasn't! Please!" wailed out Yelena. She tried to wriggle free, but Sasha's other hand pressed down on her lower back and kept her in place.

"He's married, and it's not nice to tease him like that!"

More spanks followed, Yelena twitching and jiggling her buns delectably with every blow.

"This is for being sulky and not obeying me like you should."

"I-I'm sorry! Please... stop!" moaned out Yelena, her feet kicking helplessly as more blows rained down.

"Stop?" asked Sasha, her voice syrupy with concern. Her hand slid between Yelena's thighs and moved up, wrist flexing as she rubbed in that dark tunnel that the room's overhead lighting didn't penetrate fully.

"Yes... no, NO!," said Yelena, changing her mind as Sasha removed her hand abruptly.

"Ask nicely, Lena."

"Please, Sasha, please don't stop," the skinny brunette begged.

Another couple of spanks followed, then Sasha's hand moved rhythmically in the other girl's sex again.

"That's for being a horny slut. You shouldn't be so dirty," said Sasha. She murmured some more words in Russian that made Yelena moan softly. "Yes, you'd like to cum, wouldn't you?"

"Yes, please," Yelena begged again. "Let me this time. Please!"

She sounded desperate. I sympathized as my pace increased. The adrenaline of the crazy risk I was taking, jerking off as I peered into their room from the patio, was conspiring with all my earlier teasing to make my arousal build quickly. I wasn't going to waste time and risk having my own orgasm denied again, like earlier.

"You think he's handsome, don't you?" Sasha murmured. Her arm was moving rhythmically now, her fingers working unseen in the smaller girl's slit. "You like the grey in his hair by his temples?"

"N-nooo, he's twice my age," panted out Yelena, beginning to move her rear against Sasha's hand in wanton need.

"Liar," Sasha said, but she smiled at her friend. "I bet you want him to touch you like this, to stick his prick in you? Don't you?"

"No," moaned out Yelena, shaking her head. She was clearly annoyed at this line of questioning as she wanted to focus on her building pleasure.

"Why do you have to be such a dirty slut, always?"

Sasha said another word in Russian that made Yelena whimper.

"He's married and won't fuck you, but maybe I will convince him to let you suck his dick..."

Yelena groaned out something, her words mumbled, and though I strained hard to hear, I couldn't pick out her reply.

Then they were both quiet after that, save for Yelena's panting, which grew faster as the minutes began to stretch out. Similar to how she'd teased herself, Sasha didn't seem to be moving her hand very quickly, and the languid and teasing manipulation eventually resolved into a form of torture of the other girl.

Yet, despite the frustrating pace, I saw Yelena's body start to tense. Her breathing was rapid now, moans escaping her lips almost non-stop, and her hips were undulating on Sasha's laps as she tried to find the extra stimulation she needed to cum. She was visibly right on the edge, begging Sasha to let her orgasm now in shameless fashion. I was there as well it turned out, and started to redouble my efforts on my cock when Sasha pulled her hand out and shoved Yelena off her lap.

"No, not tonight," said Sasha cruelly. "Maybe tomorrow, if you behave."

Yelena landed with a thud on her ass, her legs askew. I had a glimpse of her smooth sex, puffy and yawning open, and a teasing flash of the hot pink folds of her inner lips. The brunette wailed in despair, but seemed resigned to her fate as she pulled her legs together and began searching the floor for her knickers, and then shorts. I wanted to wail out as well, as I was so close to release.

"Sasha, you are so mean. Why do you treat me like this?" Yelena said angrily, her frustration overcoming her meekness. "It's not nice."

"You love it," said Sasha blithely, a smile on her face. "Fix your attitude or I'll spank you some more."

I was pissed as well. I could cum now, if I desired, but it felt anti-climactic since the fingering had ended. The hope that Sasha might undress for sleep made me decide to slow my own stroking and try to wait it out. I'd really sunk to new lows, I decided, before I brushed my conscience aside and gripped my cock tighter.

Yelena rose finally, her clothes back on, and turned to leave.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" asked Sasha coyly.

Yelena froze, turning back to look at Sasha with a shocked expression.

"But, I've already... not again! It's so late! Please, Sasha!"

Sasha lifted her feet to the couch, then reached down and slid her shorts and knickers off. Casually, she spread her knees and showed Yelena her sex. Unfortunately, she faced to the side from my angle, so I only saw her in profile. I did get to see Yelena's face as her jaw dropped.

"Come, I know you want it."

I expected another protest from Yelena, but to my surprise the brunette submissively got down on her knees and shuffled to the couch with a willingness that was at odds with her initial reaction.

She lowered her face, but Sasha intercepted the brunette and presented her glistening fingers to Yelena's mouth first. The skinny girl dutifully licked her friend's hand clean of her own arousal, and then, only when Sasha was fully satisfied, ducked between her legs. Her head disappeared from my view, hidden by Sasha's thighs, but I saw her back sway rhythmically as she started to eat her friend's sex with apparent eagerness.

"Yes, that's it. Don't rush it. You know how I like it..."

My hand moved fast on my cock again. The parallels of the evening, with Sasha repeating my spanking on Yelena, evidently for the first time, were maddening and I wanted to analyze it all in detail later. There was too much kinky behavior going on in their relationship for me to process right now, and I just needed to get off. The sight of the skinny brunette eagerly eating out Sasha, for what sounded like the second time tonight, was more than sufficient stimulus for my already teased mind to finally achieve satisfaction.

A half-dozen hard pumps more, and the large pool of ecstasy that had been dammed up by my brain all day finally burst free. My eyes closed. A huge wave of pleasure erupted from my cock, flooded through my body, and at long last reached my tortured brain.

I felt my cock jerking in my hand, each pulse sending another wave of bliss through me. My shaft throbbed and my hot seed shot out with every twitch, spraying onto the patio and the hedge as I blindly tried to point my cock somewhere discreet.

When I opened my eyes, I first hoped that I'd been quiet. The ground glittered with my wet jizz as most of it had landed on the stone patio. Yelena was still between Sasha's legs, and the blonde had her head thrown back in indulgent enjoyment, utterly relaxed.

"Da, Good, a little slower. Good, Lena. Yes. Mhmm. Da. Da." More encouragement followed in Russian only.

I was panting hard while recovering from my huge orgasm, but now I was feeling guilty as my lust receded and only disgust remained. Very guilty, I realized, as I shook my head in disbelief. I couldn't believe what I had just done.

I wasn't a Peeping Tom that snuck around wanking off while peering into bedrooms or spying on girls masturbating, yet that was what I'd become. This was a unique set of circumstances, I rationalized, and many a man would have done the same thing if they'd had the opportunity. Or so I consoled myself as I put away my spent cock and zipped up my shorts. I crept away silently, knowing Sasha would likely take her time.

In my room minutes later, I splashed cold water on my face and studied the stranger that peered back at me in the mirror. Grey flecked the dark hair at my temples, as Sasha had claimed, and my tanned face had more wrinkles than I'd ever remembered. The features were still familiar though, including my slightly crooked nose and square chin. Yes, the boyish good looks I'd had on the tour were now aged, like a fine wine I hoped, into what I thought was a more distinguished and handsome version of my younger self, but it was still my face. What was off were the eyes, I realized with a sigh.

The familiar blue eyes that stared back at me had never looked so recriminating before.

You sick wanker.

What had I become, and so quickly? Charlotte had every right to not trust me, I decided with a sense of despair. I had little control over myself these days, it felt like, and discipline and self-control were the hallmarks of both my personality and my play style.

I couldn't even argue that Luciana had been a one time mistake, as there had been others that Charlotte hadn't found out about. I'd still been on the tour for four years after we'd wed, and having mistresses and groupies in every city was almost tradition. I'd not even been as bad as most of the men, in truth, as if that made my transgressions more palatable.

Perhaps she tolerated the likelihood that I'd cheated while I was a player, but expected me to rein in my appetites after the tour had ended and I'd become a coach? Or perhaps, and I felt a twinge of shame at this, Charlotte sensed the difference between slaking a physical need for sex with an anonymous groupie, as if visiting a prostitute, versus the more intimate relationship I'd had with Luciana, that had evolved over almost a year of close work?

I couldn't deny that there was a vast difference, though I had argued to Charlotte till I was blue in my mouth that sex had been a meaningless, physical act with the Spaniard.

It hadn't been.

It was different with Sasha, I pleaded with myself. I had admired Luciana, respected her, but with this volatile blonde girl, it was almost the opposite. Spoiled was such a perfect word for her as it captured the frustration of seeing something sweet and delicious waste away through lazy neglect. I couldn't stand the thought, with all of her talent and, yes, her beauty too...

Why do you really want to coach her? Be honest.

My eyes betrayed me again. I clenched my hands into fists and slammed the marble counter hard.

"Fuck you."

The craving I had to work with Sasha felt nothing like Luciana, or any other client I'd had before, that part was true. I admitted to myself in the mirror that I had a compulsive desire to completely rework the petulant girl's attitude, her game, and even her identity. The urge to fix her went beyond sexual needs, beyond even romantic stirrings, and stemmed from an obsessive and controlling part of my personality that lurked beneath my calm veneer.

I wanted to dominate her, for lack of a better word, but not with whips, chains, and what not, rather I hungered to earn her obedience and make her my creation, my redemption. It was arrogant, but from her rich clay I hoped to shape something incredible.

As if you can do that without fucking her as well.

I couldn't look at myself anymore.

I found myself on my balcony again. The night was quiet and Sasha's murmuring carried just enough that I could hear her as I strained at the railing. I listened for the next twenty minutes, finding her noises oddly soothing as my mind ruminated on everything at once. At last Yelena, who must be exhausted from her marathon efforts, finally brought her friend to a screaming and quite loud orgasm that lasted for almost a minute, Sasha's sharp cries piercing the still darkness like some strange bird of prey on a midnight hunt.

With another long sigh, I finally went to bed. My thoughts as I felt sleep take me were troubled on many fronts. Most disturbing, I had a very unprofessional anticipation about coaching Sasha tomorrow that only made me feel more guilty. This job was going to be full of temptation and I knew I'd have to walk a fine line to avoid disgracing myself for life with behavior that would end my career.