by Jaye Peaches
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 t
o 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.
“I’ve a very sore bottom,” she said quietly. Her hand moved across his soft suede jacket and came to rest on his chest. She could feel the rapid breathing, the pace of his quickening heart.
“You should put something on it. Camomile is soothing,” he suggested in a voice as soft as his jacket.
“Except I don’t think I can reach back there very well,” she said coyly.
His hazel eyes, with their dark surrounds, glistened, picking up the rays of light from the outdoor lamp. The corner of his lips curled upwards, a quirky smile. “Would you like some assistance?”
“That would be very helpful,” she replied, sliding her hand down his front. Just as she reached his waistline, he caught her wrist, paralysing it in his grasp, neither tightly nor gently, directing it away from her target.
Leah became aware of how cold the night air had become. Her exhale left a white mist, a visual sign of her rapid breathing. The cool wind picked up the edge of her coat, rising up her dress and blew against her naked sex. She let out a tiny sound, a little exclamation of surprise.
“You’re cold,” said Rick. Taking her hand, he led her to the front door, allowing her the chance to find her keys and unlock the door.
Leah flicked on a few light switches, lighting up the tiled hallway and the staircase, curving up the central support wall.
“Probably easiest if you lie on your bed,” he said. Helping her slip off her coat, he kicked off his shoes, leaving them alongside her own.
“Yes,” she agreed. “Probably.”
He followed her up the bare wooden stairs. Her hand slid along the smooth oak banister rail; she let it linger slightly behind her as if it was bait.
Leah’s bed was her pride and joy, her sanctuary from the outside world. On the pillow lay her childhood teddy bear, waiting to greet her. She would often talk to him as if he were a real person. The bedside light lit up the room. She had avoided bright decorations, keeping to simple floral designs.
“Lie on your belly,” he instructed her. “Where is the lotion?”
“Bathroom cabinet.”
He disappeared for a few minutes, long enough for her to lie down and take in the enormity of her situation. The man who had less than an hour earlier spanked her, was about to touch her again. This time he would be gentle and she desperately wanted him to know she needed more from him. The attraction, which she thought she had safely buried deep in her mind, had resurfaced the moment Rick reappeared on her doorstep. Now that he was back, there would be no backing off, no childish behaviour to dissuade him.
The lotion bottle in his hand, he returned to the room. Slipping off his jacket, he tossed it on the nearby chair. Then, as if to make a point of his intentions, he rolled up his sleeves. For the second time that evening, Rick lifted up her skirt, revealing her still nude bottom.
“Just a few welts. Though you will feel it tomorrow,” he remarked.
“I’m sure,” she agreed. The sting had gone, but the heated throbbing remained.
He poured the camomile onto his palm, rubbing his hands together and then rested his hands on her buttocks, one on each.
“Oh, bloody hell!” she shrieked. “That’s cold!”
Rick chuckled. “Isn’t that helpful?” He eased the lotion over her buttocks, taking the edge off both the heat and the stark cold cream.
Leah closed her eyes and revelled in the odd sensations. He was being gentle, a
pplying very little pressure as he smeared the lotion all around her tender flesh.
“Beautiful,” he whispered.
“My marks?” she asked.
“No. Your shapely bottom.”
“I’m glad you like it,” she said. Touching her bottom, she felt softness and a residual warmth radiating out from the delicate marks. She caught her breath; those marks spoke to her, calling to her. She didn’t feel repulsed by their presence. Perhaps she should, but she couldn’t bring herself to dislike them. Rick had withdrawn his hands and she wanted them back. Not on her tender bottom, but in her between spaces, where her lust had taken root, beckoning to him. His eyes dallied there; she knew he could see her arousal.
“Would you lie next to me?” She shuffled sideways, giving him room.
Rick lay down next to her on his side and the two faced each other. His forefinger traced down the side of her face. “I’ve resisted this face for three years. Every time it reappeared, I banished it away. It hasn’t been easy, trying to forget you. I failed.”
“I’m glad you failed,” said Leah. “Because I did too. Nobody filled your shoes. Nobody made me feel safe. Nobody took care of me like you did.”
“Your father…” he began to say.
“Looked after my material needs. I miss him. I don’t want anyone to take his place. You, Rick, bring out other desires. You know that though.”
“Yes,” he said. “Let me show you how I can meet those desires in you. I will be gentle, if this is your first time.”
Her finger pressed on his lips. “It isn’t. But it will be the best to date, that I can guarantee.”
Their lips came together, having crept closer and closer and she let out a deep sigh as he ran his tongue about her moist mouth. His hands roved up and down her blouse, groping to find her buttons, then her brassiere. The scramble to undress, a fumbling prelude, quickly enacted and completed, resulting in a pile of clothes on floor.
Now Leah had a chance to admire a naked Rick and she was elated with what she saw. Lean, muscular, and smooth-skinned. Only a tiny forest of dark hairs covered his chest and she twirled her fingers in their midst as he continued to pepper her with kisses.
