Driven Wild (6 page)

Rick walked up to an upended tea chest. “This will do,” he said, patting the top.

“For what?” she asked.

“To bend over. For your spanking.”

“What if somebody comes?” She turned around, listening for sounds of footsteps or voices. There were none.

“Nobody will come here. It’s deserted,” said Rick confidently. “Now come over here.”

A familiar sensation came over Leah. She hadn’t felt it this strongly for three years and now it was back. The tingle, the rush of energy to her sex, the complete awareness of her clitoris and its purpose. She swallowed hard and stared at Rick. Much time had passed—could she still trust him?

He had changed in appearance; that was obvious. His chocolate hair darker, richer, and longer. Not quite the mop style, but it was no longer the military crew-cut. The ends of his trousers flared, not bell-bottomed or excessive, just a hint of fashion to his clothing. A brown suede jacket with pointed lapels and his patent black shoes, brightly polished as she recalled from their first encounter. By keeping to the fringes of the latest styles, he had made himself extremely appealing and sexy.

His fingers drummed on the top of the tea chest while he waited patiently for her to move. A shuffling walk, a few feet at a time, until she stood a yard away from the box, clutching her handbag.

“Put that down,” he said, pointing at the bag.

Leah propped it on the other side of the chest, then stood hands clasped at her front—waiting, unsure, and nervous.

“I want you to take off your knickers. For three speeding tickets, I think you deserve a bare bottom spanking,” said Rick smoothly.

“What are you going to spank me with?” She knew his trousers had no belt; the hipster style did not need one.

“That is for me to decide. Now, please take off those knickers. Your tights too, naturally.” His tone would brook no more delays.

She slid her fingers up her thigh; the dress was not tight and had an A-line skirt, though a short one. Mortified by her predicament, she had to lift her skirt high up to find the waistband of her tights. Rolling them down, she lifted them over her knickers and then on past her knees and ankles. She slipped out of her shoes and removed the tights. For a few uncertain seconds, she stood on the wooden boards on her tiptoes, feeling the cold between her toes.

Pausing, she peered up at Rick. He stood, leaning slightly on the tea chest with his arms folded across his chest and his face expressionless. If he was excited at seeing her undress, he showed no emotion. Except, when her eyes looked closely, she could see the rapid pulse in his neck and the way he repeatedly swallowed, pushing out his Adam’s apple—it made her realise he was simply better than she was at hiding his feelings.

Leah’s quivering hands went back up her skirt, seeking out the edge of her knickers. Slightly frilly ones with a lacy pattern, she drew them down. The crotch would be wet. She didn’t want him to see it, so as she lifted her feet out, she scrunched the knickers up tightly into a ball.

To her incredulity and embarrassment, he held out his hand and asked for the knickers. She handed over the lacy panties and he didn’t look at them, but squeezed them into one of his front pockets.

“Bend over,” he said, “and then I can lift up your dress. Keep your coat on. It’s cold. I don’t want you catching a chill.”

Leah had to smile a little at his comment about heat. It was cold in the warehouse, almost chilly enough to make her breath stand out, but soon she would be radiating a different warmth. The thought managed to both intimidated her and made her blush with excitement at the same time.

The chest wasn’t dirty. Lower than she would have liked, it forced her bottom up high and her shoulders down. She crossed her arms and rested her head on them. It smelt of bergamot, or something oriental. A calming aromatic fragrance, which made the scenario even more bizarre and erotically charged.

Leah flinched. Two sets of fingers and thumbs had taken hold of her hem and begun to lift up her skirt. Cold air followed behind his fingers. Rising up, her dress reached her bare cheeks. Leah let out a hiss of breath as she felt the fabric caress her skin, rising still higher until it reached her waist. Rick neatly folded the skirt under her jacket, using the weight of the heavier textile to hold her dress out of the way.

Throughout his slow unveiling, she could hear his rapid breathing and her own mirrored it. She had to clench hard to stop her pussy from convulsing. The spanking he had in mind was going to be painful. She wanted it to be. Nobody, except perhaps the policemen and her family solicitor, had actually told her off for being careless in her driving. Even her mother had scoffed, pointing out that Italians were notoriously bad drivers. Now, somebody was finally pointing out the errors, making her accountable and, beneath the nerves and sexual flurry between her legs, she felt good about it.

His gentle torment continued as he ran his hand down each cheek, squeezing slightly as if to test the thickness of her flesh, the warmth and tautness. She could feel the goose bumps breaking out over her skin, travelling up her thighs and across her buttocks.

“I’m going to start now. A warm-up. Then six hard smacks for each ticket.”

Her feet shuffled, an anxious moment of anticipation followed as he rested one hand on her lower back and lifted the other one up. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, took a deep breath and held it.

The smack echoed, a louder sound than the slap warranted. He wasn’t spanking her hard. She remembered how hard he could land his hand if he wanted to do so. Leah grunted, letting out her breath and then she gulped another one in. Each smack she accompanied with her little breathing exercise. It seemed to help.

The spanking stung her cheeks, left, then right, back and forth, until the stinging merged into a circle of heat. So far, it hadn’t been too painful.

Rick stopped. His hand lifted off her back, the one that she realised had kept her still and unmoving throughout. Opening her eyes, she saw him walk about the room, searching for something, picking up items and then putting them down. She propped her body up on her elbows.

“Stay down. We’re not finished. Remember, six for each ticket?”

“Can’t you use your hand?” she pleaded.

“No. It has to be something you will take note of. In any case, my hand is a little sore,” he said with a brief chuckle.

Leah guffawed. “All right for some,” she snapped.

Rick waggled a finger at her. “Don’t be disrespectful, Miss Leah, or I shall add another six.”

Watching him move about, Leah relaxed back on her arms. Somehow, even though the worst had yet to come, she felt safe in his company. He had a stern expression and tone to his voice, he looked quite masterful in his stylish clothes and with his delicious chocolate hair. His skin tone had darkened, making his Maltese heritage visible. She wanted to see more of him, undressed and exposed like her red bottom.

Rick misconstrued the groan of frustration. “Patience. I want the right tool for the job.”

He had found a strap. An old leather strap, probably used to wrap about a chest or crate. Folding it in half, he swung it a few times in the air, making it whistle, and then he brought it down on a nearby crate. The snap as it crashed into the wooden structure caused Leah to jump up.

“You can’t be serious about using that!” she said, alarmed.

Rick grinned. “Don’t worry. That was a practise swing. But this is supposed to be a punishment. You haven’t changed your mind?”

“No, I’ve not changed my mind,” said Leah in a mouse-like voice. “Please, spank me.”

“Good, because I think you deserve this. Reckless endangerment. You could have crashed off the road and be seriously hurt or even killed!”

Leah began to sniffle; dragging her hand across her nose and circling a reddening eye, she tried to staunch the brimming tears before they fell.

“What about other road users? You should treat them with respect too,” he said, coming to stand next to her upturned bottom.

“I know,” she sobbed. “I’ve been very silly.”

He stroked his hand down her bottom, a cool hand against her warmth. “Let me make it better,” he said with soft irony.

The breathing technique had to be mastered to perfection to cope with the strap. She hid her eyes, unable to look and gritted her teeth.

Thwack!
The noise reached her ears just before the sting and she let out a yowl of pain.

“One,” said Rick. “Try to keep still.”

“I’m trying,” exclaimed Leah, perching on her tiptoes.

The second landed below the first and its intensity was no less than the first. No worse either. By the time he had completed the first set of six, the shock had dissipated and she concentrated on absorbing the pain.

His hand rubbed her cheeks, dispersing the discomfort. “You’re certainly heating up the room,” he said sardonically.

She wanted to say something rude in return, but kept her mouth shut. The next six were about to start.

Did it get easier or harder with each snap of his strap? Becoming more vocal, she yelled, cried out, and suppressed a few curses. His voice held steady, saying the count and occasionally he pushed her back in position. Then he said something that made her blush with embarrassment.

“Put your legs closer together, Miss Leah. I don’t want to hit those lovely pink pussy lips.”

Leah was mortified. She couldn’t help her body’s response. It had grown from a buzz of excitement to an electrified pulse, which she tried to deny existed. Between the spanks, she couldn’t help but be enticed by the scenario, the location, her naked bottom, and his clothed body standing over her. The punishment hurt, so did the shame of it, and she couldn’t hide those emotions as she came close to tears and wailing at him. Underneath it all, she had other sentiments, ones she didn’t understand or perhaps wanted to ignore.

The last six seemed to be no harder to bear and she held her position well. He complimented her on it afterwards. The welts burnt into her buttocks, like she had been sitting on a hot water bottle for too long. The rubbing helped, as he eased the stripes of pain away, leaving one mass of blurred soreness.

“Let’s get you home,” he said, easing her up into his arms.

It was their first embrace. She sniffled into his pointy lapels and he patted her back, as if uncertain whether she wanted the comfort. Gaining confidence, his other hand stroked her hair, giving her scalp prickles of delight. The dress fell back down and she became aware of the coldness in the air. She shivered.

He kept his arm about her shoulders as he walked her to the car, remembering to switch off the lights as he left the building.

“Now, Miss Leah, when you sit in my car, I want that skirt up high. Let that hot bottom rest on the cool leather seat,” he told her.

Leah now knew why he had kept her knickers. “Oh my! My tights. I left them…” She had bundled them on her handbag and they were missing.

“Not to worry. It will give the workmen some amusement.”

“Workmen? You said it was abandoned.”

“Kind of. They were here in the day clearing the building. Not exactly a working warehouse. I knew they would be gone by evening. Nobody would pay them to do that at night.”

“You… you…” She glared at him.

“In the car, please, before I join you on the back seat and take you over my lap again.”

Leah couldn’t tell if he was joking and decided not to second-guess him. She shuffled into the car, lifting up her skirt and lowering her bare bottom on to the black leather seats. She flinched, jerking as her heated behind made contact with the seemingly arctic surface. Sliding across the seat, her buttocks clenched. Part of her relished the coolness, another part felt embarrassed at her predicament. Finally, she settled back, knees pressed together and back upright. Throughout the manoeuvre, he watched her intently.

“There,” she said. “Happy?”

“Very,” he said, smiling.

Leah wanted her turn. She had revealed her driving penalty and now she wanted to know why he was back in Liverpool. “What happened in Switzerland?”

The streets were becoming quieter, the rush of commuters dying down. Rick didn’t answer at first, as if he was deciding what to say.

“I protected a wealthy banker and his family. As simple as that. A decent kind of man, didn’t take any nonsense, loved his family and I kept them safe,” said Rick.

“There’s a sadness in your voice,” she noted.

“Unfortunately, he also had a fondness for flying. He crashed during a flying lesson. Low cloud.”

“I’m sorry,” said Leah.

“I am for his family. He had young children. His wife couldn’t bear to have me around. She associated my coming and going with her husband. So she kindly asked me to leave. I miss the mountains, the fresh air, but to be honest, the work wasn’t as grand as I hoped.”

“So you came back here?” she said with disbelief.

“Not straightaway. That happened nearly six months ago. I went to work for another businessman in… Italy, in the south. Ferrying him around.”

“And?” she asked, expecting to hear more.

“Didn’t work out and I decided to come back to England, review my options and I signed up with the same agency because it is familiar territory.”

Leah thought she had been told fragments of a story. He spoke about Italy in a hurry, a brisk summary, which told her nothing. She had revealed her secrets, but Rick kept his closer and she didn’t know how to make him open up.

Beneath her, the heat of the spanking had dissipated into the cold seat. Now the leather was as warm as her bottom. She slid about the seat, feeling the smooth surface, and it gave her little shivers of delight.

She wanted to find out more about Rick. Things were different this time. No longer a student with paternal issues, she had her own money and time. She was a woman, not a teenager fresh out of boarding school learning to stand on her own two feet. She might employ a housekeeper and handyman to help about the house, but she owned it. It was all hers.

The car pulled up on the semi-circular driveway. She waited for the door to open and then she slid her naked bottom off the seat, letting the skirt slip down and cover her exposed thighs. He shut the door behind her and she couldn’t stop her hand. It reached out, touching the back of his hand, which still held the door handle. She ran her fingers up his forearm, towards his shoulder. Rick didn’t move, nor did he stop her.