Pop Princess

"No," he replied, again shortly. "You're wearing this out." She frowned, her voice pitching up.

"But there are going to be people with cameras! I can't just walk around-"

"If you don't stop whining and start listening, those documents are getting leaked. Understand?"

"But that's not-"

"Do you understand, princess? That I am in charge now? It's me or prison. I am not explaining this again." Her lower lip wobbled and she nodded.

"I understand." She didn't. But that was alright. She would.

"Sir."

"What?"

"You will refer to me as Sir at all times or you will be punished."

"I'm not calling you-"

"It's a trip to the dressing room for a red bottom before you get in front of those cameras if you keep this up."

"You wouldn't-" He grabbed her upper arm and began pulling her to the dressing room. She looked around, crew members were watching, snickering. They really didn't care, she realized.

"I'm sorry! Sir! I'm sorry!" She cried out loudly, the din of the set still around them.

"Do you don't want a spanking?"

"No, please," her voice dropped as more eyes came to them. "Don't spank me, Sir, don't release the documents, I'll do whatever you want. I'm so tired and I want to go back to the bus, please."

"Somebody's tired?" He asked in a sweet voice, pulling her into a tight hug. She squirmed for a moment but remembered his threat. "I know, doing a good show is a lot of work. We can go to the bus, but you need to listen to everything I say. Can you do that?"

"Yes, Sir," she mumbled. They would work on that.

"Good girl. Now, when we go places, I'm going to hold your hand. Always. You need someone to guide you." She opened her mouth to protest, but having learned her lesson last time, shut it with a grimace. He held out his hand for her to take and she reluctantly grabbed it, wincing when he squeezed it tightly. "Good girl." He tugged her to the exit where there were indeed paparazzi waiting for the pop star. She hated them and usually made a few smart-mouth comments before quickly passing them by. Cameras flashed brightly once they saw she was holding hands with a new man, slightly disheveled in her skimpy performance costume.

"Is this your boyfriend, Scarlet?" The question rang out. She was quiet, and when he looked back, very unhappy looking. That wouldn't do. Not for the photos. He stopped walking and pulled her closer.

"Kiss me," he ordered, soft enough so she had to read it on her lips. She shook her head, shocked by the request. He bent down so his lips were by her ear. "Do it or I'm showing everyone your plug." She kissed him, lightly on the lips, but he forced her mouth open to stick his tongue down. The paparazzi hooted and hollered, and a thousand photos were taken in rapid succession. He finally let her be free from the embrace, chuckling with the, mostly male, crowd. "Sorry folks. No questions from this one today. She's exhausted, and we're going to bed."

With a swift movement she different see coming, he bent down and grabbed her around the knees. He lifted her up over his shoulder as she yelped in surprise. "Good night," Christopher said with a wave, cell phone videos of course popping up in the crowd, and carried her into her tour bus. Since she hung down his back, it was impossible to hide her embarrassment. Even after the door slammed shut, the sounds of laughter, cheers, and disbelief, were easily heard through the door.

He looked around while she weakly squirmed on his shoulder. It was a nice setup. Far nicer than the buses the crew members take. Practically a studio apartment on wheels. Once he took it all in he set the girl down, amused at her red face. "How could you do that? In front of all those people! You can't do this in public!" Without another word, he sat on the couch and yanked her over his lap. With a swift hand, he yanked down her shorts and began putting down swift slaps.

"This is for arguing with me backstage," he said while she wailed and tried to find her way off of him. "For not using my title. For refusing to kiss me. For throwing a hissy fit." With his free hand, he covered her mouth in case her shouts of pain could be heard by the crowd outside. "You have been very bad. This is what happens to bad girls." Over and over he laid them down until her ass until it was a fresh and rosy red and she stopped trying to buck him off. He paused for a moment, releasing her mouth to hear her whimpers. "What do you say?"

"I'm sorry, Sir," she choked out. "No more, please."

"What are you sorry for?"

"F-for being bad." He would have preferred an itemized list, but it was a good start. Protected things like her had almost no pain tolerance, but a short-term memory. He knew just how to handle her. He let her sit up and brushed a few stray tears away.

"Wash your face. Put on a nightgown. No underwear. On the bed. 10 minutes."

"You aren't going back to your bus, S-sir?" She hastily added.

"How else can I keep an eye on you if I don't move in, so to speak? 9 minutes." She scurried off into the bedroom section of the bus and he took a quick opportunity to snoop. He found a laptop and made a mental note to whip the passwords out of her in the morning. The bus driver came up and Christopher tipped him handsomely for his 'privacy.' He had a feeling the driver wouldn't have cared if Christopher was a boyfriend or a stalker after the way he had been treated by her. Then he sauntered into the bedroom, pleased to see she had listened to his instructions.

"See? You can be a good girl." His duffel bag had already been placed in the room and he opened it while she sat nervously on the bed. It was a small mattress to fit on the bus, so they would have to cuddle extra tight. He pulled out a roll of duct tape. "Don't worry, tomorrow in Tampa I'll get some soft cuffs." Scarlet scooted away in fear.

"No, you don't need to do that, Sir," she said meekly, frightened. "I won't do anything, I promise."

"I just can't trust you yet, princess," he said with a sigh. "You might snoop around, try and get the cops involved before I can release your dirty secrets. Hands on the bars." She hesitated for a moment before grabbing her iron headboard. He liked how she winced, knowing her bottom was stinging terribly. A few wraps of tape later she was secured. Satisfied, he settled himself on the bed between her legs, reaching between them to lightly stroke her kitten. "You did such a good job in your show," he purred while he teased her lips. "What a good girl you can be."

"Please," she begged, and he saw more tears leak from her eyes. "Please don't do this. I have money. So much money. I'll give it all to you. I won't be a b-brat. I'll do whatever you want, just-"

"Oh, I don't want your money. I mean, I will be managing it from now on. It's clear you can't handle all of that responsibility. And no, you won't be a brat to anyone. I am going to make sure of it. Say, 'thank you, Sir.'"

"T-thank you, Sir." He felt her dampen under his fingers and grinned.

"Good girl. Your new life is going to be so easy once you settle into it. You are going to be my greatest project yet. In fact..." he removed his fingers, enjoying the little whine she made, and began to fiddle with his pants. "I am going to give myself a reward for all the good work we put in today." He pulled his hardening member out and grabbed the duct tape once more. "So we don't disturb the driver," he said with a wink. "Like I said, I know how to make my girls happy. It will be nice for you, I promise. And I always keep my word." He ripped off a piece put she interrupted him before he could press it over her lips.

"Why me, Sir?" She asked in a soft voice, so different than the one she first spoke to him in.

"I already told you, princess," he said with a smile, carefully smoothing the tape over her mouth to silence you. "Some girls loudly let the world know they aren't ready to be in control of their own lives. That they need someone else to take the reins from them. And if they won't come willingly," he spread slowly forced her knees to bend and spread, enjoying seeing his handprints so clearly across her backside. Enjoying seeing that she was still dripping despite everything. "Then I need to take them. But don't worry..." He nudged himself into her entrance and slowly pushed himself inside, reaching down to twist her plug as he did so. "It's all for your own good. You're going to be such a good girl by the time I'm done with you."

She moaned, and he didn't know it was from fear, frustration, agreement, or pleasure. But as he rocked his hips against her, filling his latest conquest while the tour bus pulled out of the parking lot, he didn't really care to find out which it was.