by Jaye Peaches
A few minutes later, he returned with something in his hands.
“What is it?” she asked.
He held it up. A piece of greying wood, broad at one end and thin at the other. “Driftwood. Probably off a pallet or something similar. I’ve checked, there aren’t any splinters and it’s pretty solid. It’s not going to snap on you.” To prove a point, he smacked it against his thigh a couple of times.
“I’m not sure, Rick. It looks… nasty,” said Leah. She might have been too eager for her spanking.
“It’s quite light. See?” He handed her the driftwood and she had to admit it wasn’t a plank; it was two feet long and four or so inches wide at the maximum. It certainly had little weight to it, considering its size.
“Alright,” she said nervously.
“Down there,” He pointed to the little valley between the dunes. “Kneel down there on all fours.”
Leah did as he requested. Her knees and lower legs pressed into the fine grains, sinking past the layer of heat into the colder one. She spread her fingers, watching the sand seep around them, covering each one in turn until they nearly disappeared. Her heart pounded and the sun beat down on her back.
“Undo your shorts’ button.” He came to kneel next to her.
“Rick!”
“If I’m going to spank you, you’ll do as I tell you,” he said in a sharper tone. It made it easier for her, not harder, as if his demeanour had importance. It was a pretence at discipline, but it helped her find the right spot in her mind. She had asked, now she was required to submit.
She undid the button. His hand reached round and lowered the zip. He tugged her shorts over the curvature of her bottom and down her thighs. To her surprise, he then lowered her knickers too, baring her bottom completely.
“There, such a gorgeous sight.”
He stroked her rump, small circles on each cheek with his hand. Something wet spread across one cheek—his tongue!—and she lurched forward with astonishment. He licked her, curling his tongue about her lobe, tickling and moistening her skin. Rick continued his oral exploration, tasting her skin, the salty sea air adding to the flavour, she guessed, because he made noises of appreciation. Throughout, his fingers traced around her exposed clitoris, neither applying pressure nor tickling, a slow waltz of his fingertip, causing her to judder and pant.
Rick ceased his teasing and knelt back, chuckling slightly at her panting. Leah’s hands had disappeared completely into the sand. She had been oblivious to their vanishing act; they were encased in cold granules, anchoring her to the spot, just like her mind had been. She began to control her breathing, lengthening her breaths until she felt calmer.
“Now, listen carefully, Miss Leah,” he said quietly into her ear. “We have to be quick, just in case anyone comes. No time for a warm-up. I’m going to give you twenty swats with this driftwood board—rapidly, one after the other and then stop. You have to be very quiet and keep still, so I don’t land it too high or low. Understand?”
She tried to nod her head.
“Say it,” he said firmly.
“I understand,” she repeated. Between her legs, her pussy already seemed to be leaking. Each time he spoke to her, she clenched her muscles, fighting the impulse to orgasm. Nervous about the pain—would it hurt more than she could bear?—and the fear of discovery, she swam in a pool of adrenaline. The only observers were the seagulls, darting and dive-bombing from above.
Rick stayed on his knees, but lifted himself up taller. One hand on her shoulders, the other poised ready, measuring the distance. Leah closed her eyes tight, scrunched a handful of cool sand between her fingers, fisted her knuckles tight, and tried hard to breathe.
The driftwood landed with a thud. A deep smack against her flesh. At first she didn’t feel anything, then came the heat. She grunted.
“Alright?” he asked, tapping her back.
“Yes,” she said through gritted teeth.
“Here come the twenty, just like that one,” he warned and she inhaled deeply, ready to receive his offering.
They came like machine-gun fire, one every second, harsher than a firm tap, softer than a swinging blow. In between, Rick had found the perfect pace, power, and strength. She stayed firm on all fours; only for the last few did her hips give and ease away from his improvised spanking tool.
She let out a long groan at the end. The heat had grown rapidly, turning her bottom sore and as hot as the sun on her skin. To her it was perfect—the spanking she had craved for weeks.
His finger plunged into her hole, moving rapidly in and out.
“You’re so wet,” he said excitedly. “I’m going to fuck you.”
“Yes, yes!” she gasped.
He knelt behind her, and she heard his frantic attempts to obtain the right angle. His tip nudged, pushed, and then banged into her with one massive swing of his hips. The weight of his body knocked her down onto her forearms and her forehead hit the sand. A sudden rush of breeze caught the sand, blowing it over her head and arms. She had to keep her mouth shut, her eyes too. The tiny sandstorm passed over her, dusting her skin.
Her vagina stretched as he plundered deep, harder, almost rampantly in his urgency to complete. Fired up by her spanking, her nerves had brought all of her senses alive. She smelt the seaweed, the marram grass, even the sand had an aroma. Flaring her nostrils, she sucked more air into her lungs. The sand had started to rub abrasively on her knees and elbows. Leah didn’t care; she had all of her mind focused on her sex.
Gripping her waist tightly, he didn’t stop thrusting into her, a rapid, continuous fucking, slapping hard into her sore bottom and she soared like the gulls. Away in the distance was the low rumble of waves crashing one after the other onto the beach. A gentle roar that had become more apparent now her ears were closer to the ground. It reverberated and soothed, creating a hypnotic rhythm; another one to add to the one Rick was perpetrating with his rocking motion.
“I’m coming!” she screeched.
“Shhh,” he reminded and then he emitted a deep groan, shuddering as he came. His fingers reached round, found her sensitive nub, and quickly brought her to a tumultuous climax. Then her legs gave out beneath her.
Leah lay curled up in a ball, almost dozing and quite blissfully unaware of her surrounds. She leaked a little onto the sand and she could feel Rick mop her dry with his handkerchief.
“You need to get dressed,” he hissed at her.
“What?” she mumbled. In the distance, she could hear a dog barking. “Oh, shit.”
She scrambled to dress, hoicking up her shorts and shaking the sand out of her hair. Picking up her hat and sunglasses from where she had discarded them, she put them on, hoping they would hide her flushed features. Only then did she remember to thank Rick.
“My pleasure. I think we both enjoyed your little naughty girl spanking,” he said, smirking.
The Labrador bounded over to them, his mouth slobbering over a tennis ball, and he dropped the toy at Rick’s feet. Children could be heard shouting in the distance, calling the dog’s name. Realising he didn’t have the company of his owners, the dog picked up the ball and charged off in the direction of the voices. Rick and Leah burst out laughing. In the end, they didn’t see anyone until they nearly reached the wooded area to the north of the dunes.
Leah pulled on his hand. “Come on, let’s see if we can find them.”
“Find what?” he asked, confused.
“The red squirrels. They’re very rare and this is one place in the country you can see them.”
They searched with their eyes along branches and trunks, but the little creatures refused to put in an appearance. Rick decided it was getting late, so they began to follow the path back to the dunes.
“There!” said Leah, pointing at a nearby tree. “See it?”
Rick looked up at the trees, shading his eyes from the sun as it peeped between the leaves. “Yes. I see it.”
The little squirrel twitched its tail, then ran alon
g a branch before climbing higher and out of sight.
“Well, that’s a turn-up,” said Rick.
“Your first red squirrel?”
“Actually, I was thinking that I’ve managed to see two red bottoms in one day!”
“Rick!”
* * *
“We’re being followed,” said Rick. His eyes darted between his wing mirror and rear-view mirror.
He was driving her back home after a Tuesday session at her tennis club. She still had on her white skirt and t-shirt, the sweat under her armpits from her exertions. A hot June had chased away a warm May.
“Followed?” said Leah, peering over her shoulder. “Another car?”
“Three back. Been going the same roads, same speed and now when I went to turn and changed my mind, his indicator did the same thing.”
Leah rarely saw Rick looking anxious. His hazel eyes had narrowed as he tried to concentrate on the road ahead while watching the car behind them.
“Are you sure? It’s a busy road.”
The road up the coast, connecting Liverpool to the towns of Southport and Ormskirk, was rarely quiet.
“I can’t see the driver. The car has the sun reflecting off the windows and bonnet. It’s dazzling,” said Rick, shifting down a gear.
“We’re slowing up,” noticed Leah, gripping the seat.
“I just want to get a better view.”
“Why would we be followed?” Leah glanced across at Rick. His lips were tightly pressed together, fingers tapping nervously on the steering wheel. She could hear him breathing, almost wheezing, as he steered the car down the road.
He didn’t answer her, but suddenly veered the car down a side street without warning, no indicators or signal, barely braking. Car hooters sounded off in protest.
“Well, is it still behind us?” she asked impatiently.
The seconds ticked by as Rick appeared to be assessing the situation. “No. Gone.”
He settled back in his seat, taking deep breaths.
“Do you want to pull over? You’re very pale, Rick,” said Leah, concerned at his reaction.
Rick shook his head. “I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine,” she said.
“I’m fine!” he snapped and then broke out in a fit of coughing.
“Will you just pull the car over. Now!” she shouted at him. “I am your employer. Do it!”
He could no longer ignore her and he drew his car to the side of the road.
Leah was shaking. She had never drawn attention to her status, to her position, or his role. The house was hers, the money and privileges belonged to Leah. The car was the one place he felt in total control. She had taken it from him.
“Sorry,” he said, trying to clear his throat. “I’ll be alright in a minute.”
Leah didn’t harangue him, she waited for his breathing to regulate and the colour to come back in his cheeks and lips. Finally he nodded and turned to look at her.
“I didn’t mean to scare you. You’re right, it wasn’t anything. Just… a mistake.”
“Okay,” said Leah, taking his hand. “Your asthma is getting worse. Don’t hide it from me, Rick. I see you struggle some days. Why is it getting worse? Should you see a doctor?”
“No,” he said quickly. “It’s just the city air. The pollution, being in the car and exhaust fumes. When I lived in Switzerland, in the mountains, it rarely troubled me.”
“It’s where I live,” she said softly.
“Don’t worry,” he said, squeezing her hand. “As long as we take some time at the weekends to get out of the city, I’ll be fine.”
Leah wasn’t convinced by anything Rick was telling her. Why had he thought they were being followed?
Italy.
It remained the elusive part of his life and she wondered yet again if it explained many things. Not just the nightmares, but his deteriorating asthma. Stress made it worse, she knew it did, but he wouldn’t be told. As soon as he moved the car off, they slipped back into their usual functions. He drove her, kept her safe, and she let him take the lead. She needed him, but it looked increasingly like he needed her just as much.
Chapter Eight
Jane’s hair made Leah envious. Blond. That one word summed up her jealousy. Her eyes were light blue too, in contrast to Leah’s brown ones. Jane told her friend it had to do with a Swedish grandparent. Leah stared at the long yellow hair and imagined it on her head. Would Rick like her with blond hair?
The friends sat across the table from each other, fingering their buttered crumpets and wondering how to fill the silence. There had been a time when it was easy to think of something to talk about. Friends since childhood, they had survived the separation of different schools and universities. Their companionship had been a result of their mothers’ friendship. Family friends with young daughters, who liked to meet up and gossip. The daughters stayed friends, while the mothers drifted apart following Leah’s mother’s departure to Italy.
“You’ve changed,” blurted out Jane. “I mean that nicely,” she added, seeing Leah’s surprised expression.
“In what way?” asked Leah, wondering what had caused Jane to make her statement. She knew she had—was her relationship with Rick visible to the outside world? They hadn’t told anyone.
“It’s like when you started university. I really thought you would blow it back then. You pulled your socks up and proved your dad wrong. But you’ve always enjoyed the nightlife, going out, partying.”
“Habits change,” said Leah with a shrug.
“I was really worried about you, after your father died. You were going downhill and all that responsibility thrown on your shoulders. Wills, probate, money. I think you handled it well, except…”
“What?”
“That wild child came back. Drinking; seriously, you can knock them back. And I feared you might get into drugs.”
“You’ve said I’ve changed. I take it you don’t think that anymore?”
“No,” said Jane, shaking her head. She leaned forward. “Are you in a relationship, because you have that glow about you for the last few months and you’ve stopped going out with the others. They’re gossiping like crazy.”
Leah smiled. There was little point in trying to hide things from Jane. She wiped a smear of hot butter off her lips. “Truth be told, I do have a boyfriend.”
“I knew it!” said Jane gleefully. “Tell. You have to tell me.”
Leah took a deep breath. “It’s Rick.”
Jane’s eyes widened. “Your chauffeur,” she said loudly.
About them were other diners, enjoying a late breakfast in the city centre restaurant. Leah put her fingers to her lips. “Ssssh.”
“Oh, come on. I mean he is gorgeous, sexy looking. Dark and broody too. Have you, you know…”
“Jane!” shrilled Leah under her breath. “None of your business.”
“You have,” said Jane. “You’ve gone bright red.”
Leah sighed. “Alright. He lives with me.”
“Oh. My. God,” said Jane. “For how long?”
Leah let the words tumble out. Jane knew about the licence ban and the reason why she had a driver, but Leah kept her mouth shut about the spankings.
“I fancied him from the first time I met him. When Daddy hired him to drive me. But Rick said I was too young, or not ready, and then he left for a different job. I never stopped thinking about him.”
“So you hired him back.”
“It is just one big coincidence. He came back and I needed a driver, and there he was on my doorstep. This time things are different. He feels the same way as I do and… we’re together.” She ended lamely.
“What happens when your ban is finished?”
“I don’t know,” said Leah honestly. She fingered her cup and saucer, avoiding Jane’s inquisitive blue eyes. Confessing to the relationship had eased a burden of secrecy for Leah with her best friend, but it hadn’t given her peace of mind. “Rick has secrets too.”
<
br /> “Oh?” said Jane, intrigued.
“He went abroad, while I was at university, and something happened. In Italy. But he won’t talk about it. He has bad dreams and shouts in Italian. I wish I could find out what is troubling him.”
“Have you asked?”
Leah explained about his constant dismissals, his refusal to answer questions, even to the point of becoming angry with her. She didn’t mention to Jane his suspicions that they had been followed—the car journey had been a moot point. The relationship had moments during the last week when it had been strained to the point of breaking. It was only Rick’s need to be in control, to seek sanctuary in his authority, which brought them back together. Leah couldn’t say no to him, not when he reminded her of the request she had made, to let him lead her, look after her.
“If only I knew who he had worked for. Maybe Mum could help me track them down and I could ask. He won’t even give the town or city he lived in. Switzerland—he talks happily about that country and his job there, but nothing about Italy,” said Leah, exasperated.
“Look, my advice and speaking as a journalist.” Jane worked at the local newspaper—the Echo—and fancied herself as an investigative journalist. “You’ve got nothing to go on. You need more information. Spying on him, behind his back, isn’t going to do you any favours. Talk to him. Explain your concerns. Don’t scare him off, not if you love him. Do you?”
Leah opened and shut her mouth. Love and Rick. Two words she had kept apart. He had left her once, he could do it again. She feared to love him. She daren’t say the words to him. She caged them in other words of adoration and devotion. Yet neither of them had come out and said it—I love you. Their relationship felt doomed again, just like the first time.
“I’ll speak to him,” said Leah.
Jane stared at her for a few seconds and then changed the subject. Leah knew her friend well enough. She hadn’t answered Jane’s question—Leah wasn’t the only one with doubts.
* * *
The aroma of oregano wafted out of the kitchen. It was the first thing Leah noticed after she returned from her shopping spree. Having had their crumpets, the two friends had spent the rest of the day perusing the windows of shops and boutiques, trying on clothes and shoes.
