Driven Wild (2 page)

Clive released her lips. “Can we pull over some place, lose the driver?” he said brashly.

“Sure,” said Leah. “Find a quiet street, could you?” she called out to Rick.

Rick frowned and gritted his teeth. Crunch time was approaching. Over the past few weeks they had avoided this scenario; now it was coming to a head and she was about to find out exactly what her father expected from Rick.

* * *

Leah’s hair was tangled up in Clive’s fingers and he tugged a little on her scalp. It made her tingle, but not as much as the thought of the chocolate-haired driver, Rick. She knew he was called Rick Wilde—she had asked her father’s chauffeur. She often whispered the name to herself when she got home and tumbled into bed. Saying his name made her lower belly come alive and other parts of her too. The more she spent in his company, the more he seemed able to awaken her desires and fantasies. Yet he remained impervious to her. He hadn’t even told her his name. Why should she have to ask?

Attention seeking had become a preoccupation. He ignored her girlfriends, but he couldn’t ignore a fresh-faced virile youth touching her in the back seat. She uncrossed her legs and let Clive put his hand between them. The redhead sighed into her mouth and pressed his palm onto her sex mound. Leah jumped and glanced towards the mirror.

The other hand, the one nestled in her hair, began to tug harder, drawing her head down and away from his face.

“What?” she muttered uncertainly.

Clive’s roving hand withdrew from her crotch and began to fiddle with his zipper. Looking down, Leah could see an obvious bulge in his pants. He pushed her head further down.

“Pull over, mate!” barked Clive. “Can’t wait much longer.”

The car screeched to a halt in a cul-de-sac, nothing residential, and the surrounding buildings were shuttered. The streetlights flickered and Leah gulped nervously.

“I’m not sure, Clive,” she said, pushing back against his insistent hand.

“You said you would, promised me this evening.”

Leah stared at Clive’s lap, seeing a flash of hard pink flesh and then she heard the driver’s door slam shut. How could the man leave her alone? Perhaps she had misjudged him, perhaps he simply was nothing else but her driver.

She had been foolish, she saw that now and she shouldn’t have encouraged Clive to do something she had doubts about. Fantasies were one thing; reality was turning out to be something else. As she opened her mouth, not to touch him but to speak a protestation, the passenger door behind Clive flung open.

Clive shrieked like a girl as he was manhandled out of the car by the scruff of his polo neck. Leah gaped as a pair of strong hands dragged the younger man out onto the street, slamming him against the side of the Mercedes.

“You pipsqueak!” snarled her driver. “Off with you. You can walk home.”

“What!” shrilled Clive. “Leah, sweetie, get this gorilla off me!”

Leah’s hands trembled. She didn’t want to see them fighting and yet she was deeply relieved the driver had removed Clive from the car; things hadn’t gone according to plan. She hadn’t thought Clive would be so aggressive with his attempts at seducing her. Kissing and cuddling she liked, but she thought he had been joking about the blowjob, telling her he would donate money to the charity if she did it.

“Please, Clive, I think you should go,” she said, peering out of the door. Her chauffeur had him about the neck, not tight, but there was no doubt who had the upper hand.

“Alright, alright,” said Clive, backing down. “I’ll go. Another time,” he said weakly.

Leah wondered if the driver was about to hit Clive. However, his other hand remained to his side, tense but without a clenched fist. Slowly, her driver let him go and watched him back away, then scamper into the darkness.

Leah sighed, leaning back in her seat and shutting her eyes. The leather seat next to her creaked and she opened her eyes, startled. Rick Wilde had climbed into the back seat with her and shut the door.

“Are you okay?” he asked, keeping his distance.

Leah caught his eyes, barely visible given the absence of a nearby streetlight. Rick reached up and switched on the internal overhead light. The little bulb lit up the two seats and not much else. She blinked at him. His face confused her. There was annoyance, probably at her behaviour, but there was concern too.

“I’m fine,” she said in a strained voice. “I didn’t need your help,” she blurted out.

“You didn’t?”

“I could have told him to get lost myself,” she said indignantly.

“Would you?” he asked, his hazel eyes holding her in his gaze.

Leah fidgeted with the edge of her skirt, picking at the hem. “Yes, of course. I can look after myself.”

“I don’t think so,” he said calmly.

“You… what’s it got to do with you?”

“Me, and your father, don’t think so.”

“My dad! I knew it, you’re spying on me.”

“Good job too,” he said. “Now, I think you’ve been very rude to me over the last few weeks. Never asked me my name. Keeping the back of the car like a tip with sweet wrappers and the like. And now, when I save your sorry self from a good-for-nothing, you don’t even say thank you.”

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.