Driven Wild

by Jaye Peaches

  Leah blushed pink, her mouth opened and shut, trying not to take offence at what he was saying to her. “I know your name. It’s Rick. I didn’t think it was appropriate for me to call you that,” she said almost apologetically. Her skin kept bursting with tingling sensations. He had been paying attention to her and she had failed to notice. Now she recollected all the times he held doors open for her, called her ‘miss’ with a wry expression of near amusement, helped her with overladen shopping bags, and kept an umbrella above her head during the frequent showers.

  “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I do appreciate you. I mean, your driving and…” she stumbled. “Thank you.”

  “Good,” said Rick. “That is better, isn’t it? Because the next time you are discourteous to me or put your safety at risk, I’m going to put you over my knee, here in the back of the car, and give you a good spanking.”

  Leah’s jaw dropped. “Spank me?”

  “Yes,” said Rick.

  “You wouldn’t dare,” said Leah, aghast.

  He raised his eyebrows, arching them high into his forehead.

  “It’s a bluff,” said Leah. “You’re just pulling my leg.”

  “Shall we put that to the test, here, now?” said Rick, unmoved by her reaction.

  “Here!” she repeated, looking out the window into the blackness.

  “There is nobody about. Clive wanted somewhere discreet, so I delivered, except it wasn’t what he was expecting.”

  “Nobody has spanked me before,” said Leah, her thighs locked tight together, hands gripping the hem of her ridiculously short skirt.

  “Not the redoubtable daddy?” asked Rick.

  “Certainly not! Daddy has never laid a finger on me,” she scoffed.

  “Um. Perhaps that was unwise.”

  Leah glared at her driver. “You shouldn’t say such things.”

  “Nobody, eh? Not even at the fancy school where they taught you to speak properly?”

  “The headmistress used a tawse on the hand,” said Leah.

  “Sounds like you are familiar with that punishment,” remarked Rick, almost breaking his stony face with a smile.

  “No, yes, I mean, just once,” said Leah, losing her confidence slightly.

  “So, you think I’m bluffing,” said Rick, folding his arms across his chest. “I don’t do tricks. Lie over my lap and I will prove it to you.”

  Leah found his determination and unyielding manner disconcerting. It reminded her a little of her father, the way he would hold his bearing, speak with authority and with the absolute expectancy of obedience, not just from Leah, but all those he employed.

  “Why? Seriously, why?” she asked.

  “I want to spank you, Leah,” said Rick quietly. “Just so you know I mean it. I want you to stop chasing after the boys and behave yourself. You’re about to start university and you need to be focussed on your studies. Don’t you?”

  “Yes,” said Leah. She had no idea what a spanking entailed; some part of her filled with curiosity, another screamed warning messages about the pain that might be involved and untested levels of trust needed by her.

  “Then bend over my lap.” Rick shuffled towards the central seat, backing Leah against the door.

  Turning to peer out of the window, her breath misted up the glass, adding to the layer of rapidly forming condensation. The air outside had become frigid, while the heat inside the car rose, filled by their warm breaths. She saw nobody out in the darkness and soon the condensation would form a natural shutter, a barrier for them to hide behind. Her chest heaved up and down, contemplating, wondering if it was a game on Rick’s part. A bored chauffeur looking for a little fun on the back seat, except he had been furious with Clive and genuinely concerned for Leah’s well-being. It didn’t appear to be a ruse on his part. The idea of being spanked by her rather handsome driver was blossoming into reality and taking on an alluring fascination.

  “Do you want me to spank you, Leah?” he asked softly, his hands resting on his lap, fingers locked together. “On your bottom. Clothes on, of course.”

  For a bizarre reason she secretly hoped he might have told her to lift her skirt or even pull down her knickers. However, relief flooded through her as she didn’t have to face the shame of being bare bottomed.

  She hadn’t even said yes, but she began to shift her legs, twisting her body to face him. “No, but do it anyway if that’s what you want,” she said sullenly. Then her face dropped when she caught sight of his piercing eyes, covertly vexed eyes. Why was he having such a tumultuous effect on her? She couldn’t fathom an explanation.

  “Lie across my lap and I will give you six hard smacks. Three on each cheek.”

  She followed his instructions, sliding her body over his legs and finding her feet in one foot well and her head hanging down the other. His hand touched her skirt and she felt blood rush to her head, pounding in her ears. His fingers pulled the skirt down, ensuring her bottom was covered. Rick hadn’t lied about keeping her shielded.

  A hand rested on her lower back, the other on her rear. A heavy hand, weighted down and patiently waiting.

  “From now on, Leah,” said Rick. “I want you to keep this car clean, treat me with respect, and keep the boys out. No more flirting in the back seat. Understood?”

  “Yes,” she squeaked.

  The pounding in her head grew and she thought he too could hear it. Knees flexing, bunched together in the narrow foot well, she screwed her eyes tightly shut. Would he spank her, or was he about to toss her off his lap and laugh at her for being gullible and weak?

  The slap gave her a jolt. His hand pressed down and even with clothes on, it hurt more than she anticipated. A grunt left her mouth, one of surprise more than pain. Her eyes sprung open—she was being spanked in the back of a car by her driver!

  “Alright, Leah?” he asked, his hand on her smarting cheek.

  “Yes,” she said breathlessly and added, “Please be gentle with me.” There would be no backing out on her part; Leah’s stubborn streak would not let her appear cowardly and she certainly had no intention of crying. She felt other strange emotions, new ones that circulated about her mind and body: these peculiar sensations, a sense of emotional arousal and bodily stirrings, which she assumed to be sexual, but as a virgin she couldn’t interpret and they were left unresolved.

  “I will,” he reassured her. “This is your first time and I hope you will remember this day for years to come. Next one.”

  Another whack—very palpable even through her clothing—and her hand clung to the car seat, holding her steady. Underneath her belly ached, uncertain how to decipher her virginal spanking. Instinctively, and without much conscious thought, she clenched her pussy and her eyes widened with alarm. What was happening to her?

  The third landed where first had done and it added to lingering discomfort. If this was gentle, what was hard going to be like?

  * * *

  Rick paused after the third blow. He risked everything spanking Leah. His job, career, and reputation could easily be blown away if she opened her mouth and screamed. It wasn’t completely quiet outside, nearby he could hear traffic. They were still parked in the middle of a city.

  Clive had been the trigger. The greedy boy, enticing his naive passenger with his tongue and hands. Then he had seen the expression on Leah’s face. She had not appeared keen. So, when her head had dipped down, Rick had chosen to act. She had been foolish to let Clive suggest they could be left on their own. It was never going to happen with Rick driving them. What if she had left the tennis club on foot and gone to some side street? Would she have ended up forced on to her knees while Clive ensured he got served by her? Rick couldn’t bear to think of the consequences.

  The need to spank her and show her he was serious about her safety had happened instinctively. If her father kept his distance, somebody had to look after Leah. Putting aside other emotions, the ones he thought were truly inappropriate, he could not believe her willingness to agree
to his offer. There she lay, over his lap with her pert bottom wriggling in some degree of pain and she had not moved, nor told him to stop, which he would have done if she had asked, and there she remained, languishing under his stinging palm.

  His hand lifted again; he measured the distance, the impact and hoped it would serve the right purpose. The thud, as his hand landed for the fourth time, echoed about the Mercedes. A strangely satisfactory noise to his ears, one he had not heard for a while. The temptation to peel away her skirt, to peek at the flesh below, flitted through his mind. Her childishness reminded him how young she was; he might be in his mid-twenties, but she was a teenager—a near woman, fully formed physically, under-ripe in other ways.

  The fifth and sixth blows made her restless, jerking her bottom up and down, unsure about where to put herself—bent tauter or stretched out. When the spanking was finished, he helped her up and she managed to sit without any difficulty. There were no tears in her eyes. He guessed he hadn’t spanked her hard enough for her to shed them.

  Her eyes peered up from under her lashes; they were as long as his own. “I will try to be good,” she said quietly.

  He took her hand and squeezed. “Thank you. That’s all I ask. Not for my sake. But yours. And your father too.”

  He returned to the driver’s seat and took her home. For the rest of the short journey, she seemed preoccupied, lips pressed together and eyes darting about. A little lingering shock at the evening’s proceedings, surmised Rick. Not a bad evening, he decided. The question was, what happened next. What happened if she forgot to behave? Would he do it again and would he spank her harder?

  Chapter Two

  Over the next few weeks of the dwindling summer, Leah tried hard to be courteous to Rick. She said please when giving her destination, thank you when they arrived. She kept the litter out of the car and since the evening with Clive, had not invited men into the vehicle. Little was said about that night, only for Leah to whisper another quiet thank you to Rick a few days later when she realised her driver had said nothing to her father about her errant behaviour. Her father would have been furious if he had known about the young man.

  The spanking had a residual effect on her conduct. Rick had shown no delight in doing it, at least as far as Leah could tell and he appeared pleased with her response. It gave her a strange sense of satisfaction, something she couldn’t pin down with logical reasoning.

  He smiled at her more, complimented her on her clothes when she went out to a formal event. Following her enrolment at Liverpool University as an English undergraduate, he helped her with her books when in a hurry and ensured he parked a little distance away from the university buildings; Leah had become more self-conscious about her status and the presence of a personal driver. She was determined to make new friends based on face value and not ones who simply wanted a wealthy friend to hang out with at the weekends.

  All began well, that first term. Fresher week, at the end of September, came and went, the first lectures given and she had met her tutors. There had been issues; the biggest being an argument with her father about accommodation. He had wanted her to stay living at home, while she was adamant that she should have the freedom to be on her own.

  Her mother, in one of their weekly long distance calls, had been sympathetic but unwilling to enter the fray and present Leah’s case for independence. Two weeks into the first term and Leah had still to convince her father.

  Been driven by Rick to a morning lecture, she let slip a quiet sob of frustration. His observant ears meant he turned his eyes to the mirror: her unshed tears would be visible to him. Dabbing them away with a handkerchief, she hoped he hadn’t noticed, but he had.

  “Problem, Miss Leah?” It was what he called her since the spanking, more familiar but still formal.

  “No.” She shook her head, lying.

  “Don’t bottle things up. Not good for you,” he said, unperturbed by her fib.

  “I wish I lived with my mum, that’s all,” said Leah with a shrug.

  “Where is she?” he asked, curious.

  “Italy. By the lakes. I saw her during the early part of the summer.” She smiled at the memories of hot days spent swimming in Lake Como.

  “I take it your parents aren’t together any longer.”

  “She left him when I was six. Just me, no brothers or sisters. Not a great marriage, even I could see that at six.”

  “Why? Sorry, I don’t mean to pry. My mum left my dad when I was young too,” said Rick, pulling up at a junction, waiting for the lights to change.

  “Oh, really. Sorry too, then,” said Leah, perking up at his confession. “She came from aristocratic roots. Unfortunately, inheritance taxes and death duties have ruined my mother’s family. Along with the demise of the Empire, all the overseas income went too. Left with this grand house and no way to maintain it, they, my grandparents, married Mum off to Dad. He had new money from his industrial empire—clothing, textiles, and now plastics and manmade fibres.”

  “So that house, the one you live in, is your mother’s inheritance?”

  “Yes. As part of the divorce settlement, Dad gets to stay in the house as long as he lives. Then it reverts to Mum again. She would sell it, to pay off debts if she could.”

  “So money drove them apart?” asked Rick, the car picking up speed again.

  “No. She ran off with Gregor. An Italian nobleman and he does have both houses and money. It must be in the blood, she can’t resist. Dad threw her out and insisted I was to be brought up here in Liverpool. Mum didn’t put up much fight. Holidays she can cope with, full-time motherhood was never her thing.”

  “Sorry, that must be tough, but I can empathise.”

  “How so?” Curiosity shifted from the front seat to the back.

  “My mother lives in Malta. I rarely see her.”

  “Divorced too then,” nodded Leah sympathetically.

  “No, as it happens,” said Rick. “Catholic and very devout. That is how they came to be married in the first place. My father is an officer in the army. He had been stationed in Malta during the war and helped relieve the Nazi siege. A whirlwind romance with my mother. She is beautiful and he needed to escape the demands of war. I was the product. Her family insisted on marriage and my dad brought her back to the UK at the end of the war. We lived on army bases, moving about.”

  “Not something appealing, I suppose,” guessed Leah.

  “No,” agreed Rick. “She missed the sea, the hot weather, her family. Miserable. My dad could not tempt her out of her sadness. So he sent her back to Malta. I think it was meant to be temporary, but she never came back.”

  “My turn to express sympathies. We’re very alike. Did you go to boarding school too then?” she sniggered.

  “Yes,” he laughed. “When my dad was stationed abroad. I was sent to an army school. I loved it. All routine and regimens, it suited me, kept me on the straight and narrow. I joined the army cadets.”

  “But not the army?”

  “No,” said Rick, showing a disgruntled face in the mirror. “Asthmatic.”

  “Oh, that is why you ban smoking in the car.” Leah had seen him point at the little ‘no smoking’ sign every time somebody attempted to light up a cigarette. Leah didn’t smoke. She thought of her own school days. “I went to boarding school. Hated it. Not very good at toeing the line and I felt abandoned by my parents.”

  “My dad loves me a lot, but he is busy working for the MOD in London.”

  “We’re both kind of neglected.”

  “Your father is very protective of you; you know that, don’t you?”

  Leah sighed. “I just wish he would show it. I want to live on my own. I’ve been with people all my life, but never by choice.”

  “Tell him that. Why not suggest a trial period? I will continue to pick you up and ferry you around. That way he will know I am keeping an eye on you.”

  Leah took away his suggestion and worked on implementing it. She flattered her father, ki
ssed his cheek at breakfast, and told him how much she would miss him, but she needed to start to look after herself. Cook, clean, and study, and not be kept like a bird in a cage. Her father listened to her polite tone and succumbed to Leah’s fluttering lashes. A small flat was found and Leah moved out.

  * * *

  Leah was late again. It was the third time that week. Rick scowled, sitting in the driver’s seat waiting, his patience wearing thin. The good start to the term had ended quickly, and old habits had returned, including late nights out at clubs and parties. Now, she missed the early lectures, too tired and lazy to get out of bed and no housekeeper or maid to wake her from her stupor. Rick had come to realise how spoilt Leah had been at her father’s mansion.

  Tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, he looked at his wristwatch. Ten o’clock on a Friday morning and she was about to miss yet another tutorial. Her personal tutor had warned her that she was likely to fail the end-of-term examinations in December. They were supposed to test her ability to succeed at the degree course. If she failed, they would recommend she drop out.

  Only in the last few days had she shown any signs of attempting to study properly. She was drunk each night, unable to write her assignments, the days slipped away, and the tutors were beginning to give up hope.

  She had wailed about it in the back of the car to Rick, but seemed unprepared to step up and put things right. Why it was so hard to have some kind of discipline in life was beyond him. He had his own friends and those evenings he spent with them, when not required to drive her about, he had fun, but never was late for work the next morning.

  One last glance at his watch and Rick made a decision. Locking the car behind him, he stormed up the stairs to her first-floor flat and knocked loudly on the front door.