A Box Of Rocks Pt 03

Theree is no underage sex in this story.

*****

Chapter 22

Mason had scribbled a few things down while we were on holiday, and shut himself in the music room for a couple of days after we got back.

I had things to do as well. Maddie was a senior in high school now, with an eye to the college she wanted to attend. Her scores were in the top 5% of her class, so she could probably get into any university she choose. Mason and the rest of the band had worked with her during school breaks and holidays, and she and her mom were out to the house at least twice a month. Her record was in the can, six originals mostly written or cowritten by Mason or one of the others in the band. Alison was involved in crafting two, and Jon really helped her with adding the correct set of keyboards to her work. She was so impressed she started taking piano lessons. She did three covers, two rearranged by the band, the other one exactly as the original artist had recorded it.

We were all giving her tutorials about the lifestyle she was about to embrace. Mason was especially brutal, giving example after example of artists who'd come to a bad end professionally and personally. He once listed nine performers that had committed suicide, and five that had died of accidental overdoses. His degree helped him tremendously as he walked her through the pitfalls of being a recording artist.

"Do you know what the leading contributing factor to their suicides was? Stress. Exhaustion plays a role as well. In this day and age, you're not gonna make a living off of records. It's too easy to get it free off the internet, and the only ones who get rich off streaming and radio play are sites like Spotify and IHeart Radio., Even the biggest names only get pennies for every download.

So, then, artists have to tour to make money. The more they tour the more they make, so some bands have ridiculous schedules, performing up to 300 dates a year. The constant travels, the isolation from their families and friends, the people who suck up to them, all having their own interests, rather than the artists' foremost. It all grinds you down to nothing if you're not careful, or have good people around you. A lot have turned to booze and drugs, and that's not a rosy path. Ultimately, you're your own woman, or will be by the time your first tour date, so it comes down to you and whether you can take it."

He paused to gauge her reaction. She seemed stunned. Then he smiled and hugged her. "We're all telling you this for a reason. We're gonna watch over you as best we can. You'll tour this summer, no more than two dates a week, with every fourth one off. You won't be a headliner, not for a couple more tours, but you'll make good money, enough to cover your colleges expenses and help your mother out. And you will never, ever, tour without your mother, Sasha, or one of us with you. You're young, really beautiful, and they'll circle you like vultures over a fresh kill. They'll make all kinds of promises, mostly that they have no means to keep, find your insecurities and exploit the shit out of you."

She spent face time with Gwen, who pounded her relentlessly about how to act, what to say, and what she should do if something seems wrong. "First, tell Sasha. She'll be like a momma bear whose cub is in danger. Then tell me. I won't be as direct as Sasha, but I have my skills and like to strike from the shadows, like an alpha ambush predator, they won't know what hits them beore they're down and bleeding. If all else fails, get Mason. He won't be like either of us, he'll be like a Viking beserker, killing everything in front of him in a blood coated rage. He's quite fond of you."

Mason had a soft spot for her, and she had a full blown case of hero worship where he was concerned. He kept it under control, leading her gently. I grinned, absently rubbing my ass. He'd reestablished the heirachy in our relationship a couple of days ago. I couldn't understand it, but every once in a while the urge would overtake me, and I'd goad him until my ass was across his lap and my panties, if I had any on, were at my knees. We were both much calmer afterwards. Of course, the sessions of hot monkey sex that invariably followed may have had something to do with our attitudes.

Maddie had been approached by several acts as a possible opener, and Mason and I had vetted them all. There were some that would be good for her, and more that would be absolutely toxic if she accepted. One singer was especially persistent, but the guy had a bad reputation and was known for his appetite for barely legal young girls. I tried to be diplomatic, but in the last meeting Mason snapped at him. "Fuck off, you perve! I wouldn't be comfortable with a young woman like Maddie being in the same state with you. How many times have you had to pay someone off to keep from going to jail? One of these days you're going to run into someone you can't buy off, like a father with a penchant for violence. Just so you know, if it's Maddie, you don't have enough money to keep me away. I'll cut your pathetic junk off, maybe bronze it so Maddie can use it as a paperweight or something. One more thing, if I catch you trashing Maddie in any way, I'll look under every rock, dig up as many skeletons as I can find, and make your life a living hell. You won't have a career any longer, and not much of a life. Bad things will happen. Very bad things. Understand?"

By then Mason had him backed into a wall, their faces close enough to kiss, but it was a given Mason didn't have romance in mind. The slime scurried away as fast as he could crawl, and we never heard another word from him. I grinned at him as the door hit the guy in the ass. "Jesus! If we ever have a daughter, I'll have to medicate you when she hits puberty."

It hit me what I said and I did the right thing, I ran out right behind the slimeball. He didn't chase me, but when I was around him for the next few days I'd catch him grinning when he thought I wasn't looking.

Chapter23

When they got back into the studio and bounced their songs off each other, it was easy to tell the break did them a lot of good. They worked exclusively on two songs per week, running through them until they were sick of them, but carried on until they felt they had it. Then they recorded several takes, tweaking and combining them at times, until they were satisfied. Then it was on to the next.

They brought Maddie in to do some backup singing, and one work turned into a trio with Al and Titty. I can close my eyes and remember the goose bumps I got when I watched them lay down the vocals, sitting on stools around one microphone, while Mason and Jon were in the booth, working the consoles constantly. It was the first hit off the record. They kicked around a title before looking at me, because I had given them their name and title of their first. I thought about it for a few minutes and grinned. "Well, you all seem to be over your issues, and seem a lot more relaxed. This one doesn't have the anger of the first, but overtones of happiness and contentment. You guys are growing up!"

Over It Now hit the billboards at twenty-three, climbing to number one in three weeks. We went on tour, and by then I had learned enough to be an assistant tour manager. It was probably the hardest I've worked in my life. There was always one more detail, one more crisis, one more problem to solve to keep everything rolling and on time.

Maddie opened for them three times with her own band, which she named Carton Of Pebbles, a tongue in cheek nod to her mentors. She was absolutely terrified the first night she hit the stage. Mason told me later it was because she never paid her dues, working in dives, moving from one bar to the next constantly, fighting to get paid, worrying about equipment. All she'd ever done was busking at the market, then performing in street festivals and small auditoriums, and now suddenly she was in front of seventy thousand people. He did his best to put her at ease. "Relax, baby. You won't be able to see them because of the stage lights, and the noise will be muted from your earbuds. I'll play the first couple with you, and the rest of us will rotate in and out, so we won't let you fail. You get nervous, you look at one of us, and you'll know it will all be okay."

She stumbled throught he first two songs, gradually getting more self assured, and had the people screaming through her last two songs. They yelled so much she had to come back out and do an encore. Then she fell exhausted into the arms of me and her mother, recovering enough to join the band for a couple of songs at the end.

When she opened for a country rock act two weeks later, I went with her. Between me, her mom, and the two big security guys Mason had hired, she was always safe. The drummer for the headliner was only 21, and they formed a friendship. Instead of partying with fans, he and Maddie would slip into a room and play video games, gorging on pizza, egg rolls, or other junk food. Always under the watchful eye of her mother, me, or a security guard.

I was a romantic at heart, so I let the little kisses I saw go. They were growing fond of each other, and I cautioned Maddie. "Road romances rarely last, honey. What happens when the tour is over and you go separate ways? He's still part of the band and lives in Nashville. You'll still live with your mother. Long distance romances have a habit of not working out."

She surprised me with her maturity. I still saw her as the sixteen year old busking at the farmer's market, when she was in fact an adult, legally anyway, and capable of making her own decisions. "I don't want to marry him, Sasha. I just want to have a little fun, let my hair down, and enjoy life. Even though it's none of your business, I'm still a virgin, but if I decide to change that status, it will be my decision, understand? Mine, not the committee of overprotective parents I seem to have now. Jaime and I are going out this Saturday, without chaperones or bodyguards, and I advise you not to stay up. Understand?"

What was I going to say? No, you can't?

Of course, April (Mom) and I stayed up anyway. She came through the door giggling, her hair a little mussed and her makeup a bit askew, and laughed at our faces. "Relax, mothers mine. My status hasn't changed, but I thought about it. I'm just not ready yet. If I am, I'll let you know."

Then she kissed us both and went to bed. I looked at April. "Is she protected?"

"I got her on the pill last year, when I saw what her career path was turning out to be. She's got a good head on her shoulders, but I was eighteen once. I"ll keep worrying."

"So will I."

She had her own giggle, we'd gone through a bottle and a half of wine while we were waiting up. "You need to get Mason to knock you up! Then you'll really know what it's like."

"I shall take that under advisement, but it's kind of hard when he's in Chicago and I'm here in Florida."

Honestly, I was really missing him. This was the longest we'd been apart in over a year, and I didn't like it at all. We made do with some pretty steamy phone sex, and I sent him a lot of selfies of various body parts, all displayed in imaginative ways. I was shocked when he sent a few back. I wondered if pictures exaggerated length like they added weight, because I don't remember it being that long. I was really, really horny. Really.

Chapter 24

Maddie and her band fulfilled their committments, and April took her home for a week. I caught up with Mason in LA, and we just barely made it into the room before I was completely naked. I lost a really expensive bra somewhere between the elevator and the room. Oh well, I'd flutter my eyes at Mason and he'd buy me a dozen as long as he was the one removing them. Titty, Al, and Jon came to the suite for breakfast, looked at us, and grinned. We were both in robes because we were still at it when they knocked on the door.

Al kissed me. "All caught up now?"

"Hell no. I figure he owes me at least seventeen more orgasms, so why don't you guys fuck off for a day or so."

"Let him rest, baby. We got a show tomorrow."

"I bought him vitamins."

She grinned again and started talking about the show. It was the last of the tour, and they were starting to show a little roadwear. It was one of the reasons they toured like they did. They would do twelve shows in ten weeks, which wasn't nearly as many as some groups did in the same timeframe, take a month off, then do another mini tour. That was usually it for the year, twenty four dates, and then they went back into the studio for a few months before venturing out with new music.

Mason had been writing at a furious pace, and he grinned when I said something. "You weren't here, so I had to have something to occupy my time." Then he switched gears and asked how Maddie's tour went.

"It went really well, aside from her showing signs of growing up." I told him about her little rebellion over the drummer. "She goes to college this fall. God help us all." I remembered my college experience. Barely. The first couple of years were a blur, until Al came down and jerked a knot in my ass. "You better start doing better, right now. One more set of bad grades and you're on your own. Better start practicing the phrase "would you like fires with that," it might help your career choices."

My parents had died in a car crash. They were hit by a company vehicle operated by a driver over the legal limit, at one in the afternoon. Al and I got a pretty good settlement, and since Al was of age she got to administer the funds. She turned it over to financial advisors who made sure the money made money, and went back to her band. I went to college to major in partying. When my grades came out next, and were awful once again, she cut me off, saying she would give me half of the money when I turned 21, and not a dime before then. That meant I would have to get a job and support myself for fifteen months, something I wasn't looking forward to.

She realized I was sincere when I begged, so she gave me one more semester to prove myself. The fact was I liked what I was studying, and seemed to have a knack for it. My grades went up 30%, and I got to finish school. When I turned 21 I got my half of the estate, $230,000, and I partied for three years before the money ran out. I grinned, thinking how conservative I was now. I still had all my settlement money, and almost everything I made went into my stock portfolio. Mason paid for everything, so I didn't need money. I was closing in on half a million. I thought about investing in real estate, but Mason and Al talked me out of it.

"The market is way overvalued, and the Feds are trying to slow growth down by raising interests rates, which will spark inflation, which will result in people not being able to afford homes, which will drive the market down. Wait a couple of years, and you'll be able to buy 35% more house for the same money."

I saw one of Mason's financial statements. After everything, the tours, the writing royalties, his production fees, he made a little over seven million for the year. Al made almost as much, Jon and Titty brought in a little under four, but they didn't write as prolifically as Mason and Al. Not bad.

The average cost of a ticket to see a major act was around $120.00. They charged a hundred, a bit under average, and sold out ninety per cent of the time. Most of the venues they played held 40 to 60,000, so if they averaged 50,000, after paying the venue 20% ( a bit high, most only paid 15%, but it made the major stadiums book us over other acts, then paying the locals we had to hire at every site, our tour management team ( where I got my salary), the roadies, the guitar and drum techs, they netted roughly three million each. Not a bad sum for a half year of touring.

It astounded me that I made 800,000, a lot of it from managing Maddie, the rest from assistant tour manager duties and the salary Mason paid me. I almost told him to forget about money, then realized he would fuss at me if I did. I kept socking it away, figuring it would come in handy one day.

We were home, alone, on a Saturday night, and we'd had BBQ catered in from his favorite spot. There was probably enough to feed five people, but we made a serious dent in it, storing the rest for lunch tomorrow. We were sprawled out on the huge sectional couch in the media room, watching movies. Mason decided we needed popcorn, and I knew he'd be a bit, because he didn't like microwave popcorn. Truthfully, he didn't like microwaves much at all. His range was a top of the line induction model, and the burners could go from 0 to 500 degrees in about six seconds. He was also a little anal retentive about his cookware, and he had a dedicated popcorn pot, and you better not use it for anything else. I did, once. After my ass stopped burning he told me to go out and get him another one, and you can bet I never touch it.

I did a little channel surfing. Mason had every streaming service and cable channel known to man, and I stumbled on to a soft porn channel. I was sprawled out, admiring the guy's junk, when the handcuffs came out. I sat straight up, watching as the guy shackled the woman to the bed. I changed it as soon as I heard Mason coming, and he asked why I was so flushed.

"Just thinkin' about what's gonna happen at the end of the movie."

I was all over him later, and he noticed when I grabbed to headboard and held on to it. What I didn't know was his television had a memory feature, and he checked the history the next day. A week later UPS delivered a package, addressed to me. I tried to remember what I'd ordered as I opened it, and it fell out on the carpet. Wrist and leg shackles. Butt plugs and vibrators, and a few things I had no idea what they were used for. There were also three sets of handcuffs, and a note from Mason.

"You want to play? Great. Have the shackles on when I get home."

I tried everything with everything, except the toys. He was due home in an hour, so I showered, and made sure I was smooth all over. I thougth about makeup, and decided to darken my eyes and put on bright red lipstick. All I wore were the shackles, a garter belt and fishnet hose. I looked at myself, deciding I was just almost exactly right with my outfit. When I heard the alarm chirp I ran to the bedroom and sprawled across the bed, face down.

He immediately headed for the bedroom. I guess he knew me too well. He took his time, admiring me. When I started to speak he smacked my ass. "No talking." Then I found out what one of the toys was. A ball gag. He had it strapped on, my hands shackled to the headboard, and then he spanked me. Not hard enough to leave bruises, but enough that I could feel every smack. I was squirming all over the place, whimpering through my gag when I heard the buzzing. He lubed it, so the vibrator slid in easily, even though it stretched me.

Then he started playing with my ass. We'd never done that before and I thought he wasn't into it, but soon enough he had three fingers in and I was thrashing around so hard he had to shackle my feet. Then, when I thought I couldn't take anymore, he slid the buttplug in. It seemed it also vibrated, and when he had them both going I felt something slip around my waist. It was a harness, designed to hold the toys in. Mason rubbed my ass for a second, and then, he left!

I was soon having a massive orgasm, and since the vibrations never stopped, a second one started building. I was moaning when he returned, the bed was soaked, and I was almost comatose. He took the toys out, slid his cock in, and fucked the shit out of me, ending up squirting in my ass. I was screaming my head off inside, but all that came out were grunts. Mason held himself inside me until he started going soft, and I moaned when it slid out.