by Jaye Peaches
It wasn’t until the third round of knocking that Leah opened the door to him. Dressed in a flimsy blue nightie, which came to above her knees, bleary-eyed and a mug of coffee in her hand, she peered at him with a surprised expression.
“What… Why are you here?” she asked, stepping back.
Rick entered the sitting area of her flat and looked about. The place was a tip. Glasses lying unwashed on the coffee table, textbooks piled on the floor, and screwed-up pieces of paper strewn about the bright orange sofa.
“What a mess!” he said, ignoring her question. “You’re late. Again.”
“So, I slept through my alarm. It’s only Chaucer, again,” she said brusquely. “I’ll manage.”
“Will you?” he snapped. “Didn’t you tell me yesterday that you’ve a test in that subject in two weeks? Do you think you’ll pass? What about that essay? Wasn’t it supposed to be in today?”
He knew her timetable well and her assignments. She rattled them off in the car, barely hiding her panic when deadlines approached. Leah stared at the mountain of discarded scribbles.
“I’ll get it done tonight.”
“I don’t understand you, Leah. Your dad has given you this opportunity to prove yourself and you’re frittering it away.”
“Please don’t tell him,” blurted out Leah. She walked towards the kitchenette at the back of the flat, put her mug down on the work surface, and turned to face Rick. “I’ve not been good, have I?” she said, biting on her lower lip.
“No, you haven’t,” he said, joining her, his eyes watching her fingers fiddle with straps on her nightie. The nervous twitches were back, just like they had been in the back of the car weeks ago. “You’ve been inconsiderate, kept me waiting in the car. I’m always here on time, why can’t you show me the same respect? Do you remember what happened last time you forgot how to be well behaved?”
“You spanked me,” she said softly and her dark eyes opened up wide.
The sun came out from behind a cloud as she spoke, as if to put the spotlight on her form. Blazing in from the nearby window, the November light had the last bastion of warmth before the winter arrived. The rays shone through the thin fabric, highlighting her slender outline and he couldn’t fail to notice her pert nipples sticking out from underneath, nor could he ignore the fact she was not wearing underwear—the blurred tuft of dark hair stood out at the apex of her thighs. Rick’s loins twitched and he battled to keep his manhood under control and out of sight.
“Do you think I should spank you again?”
“If you think so,” she said, dropping her eyes down.
“I do,” he said simply. “And harder this time.” He crossed to the other side of the kitchen, opened the utensil drawer, and picked out a wooden spoon.
“A spoon!” she gasped. “That will hurt.”
“A little more than last time, but then if you want to get up in time in the mornings, it has to be something you’re going to remember.” He slapped it down on his palm and felt it smart. He would have to judge the spanking carefully; scaring her was out of the question.
Leah turned her back to him and put both hands on the worktop surface. She bent over slightly, pushing her bottom up higher, but keeping it covered by the shimmering nightie. It made no difference to Rick; the globes of her bottom showed clearly, each one a perfectly modelled lobe. She carried no excess, neither was it a skinny behind. The temptation was strong—to stand behind her, press his aching cock between those cheeks and rock hard, in and out until she came. He had to shake himself out of his daydreaming. She was not his to take.
Rick took up position to one side of Leah. Out of her mouth came tiny pants of trepidation and he waited for her to catch her breath.
“Just a few with my hand first,” he told her, putting the spoon down. “Ready?”
“Yes,” she said, squeezing her eyes tightly shut.
* * *
His hand landed with a smack. Leah’s feet lurched forward and she toppled down on to the worktop. There she remained; it was easier than holding her body up. Arms scrunched up under belly, legs slightly parted, and bottom raised, she waited for the next one.
She watched the second descend out of the corner of her eye. The way he swung his arm a measured distance back and landed it with accuracy right onto the part of her that sat on the wooden seats in the lecture hall. She was sure he was doing that on purpose. She cursed under her breath. It stung immediately and he hadn’t even picked up the spoon.
Another two and he stopped. A few brisk rubs on each cheek and then he added another four. She could feel the temperature of her flesh rise, radiating out.
“Time for this now,” he said, picking up the wooden spoon. “A dozen. Do you think that will get you out of bed in time?”
“Oh, yes,” she exclaimed. “Do you have to do so many?”
“If you decided, it wouldn’t be the same, would it?”
She shook her head. “Please don’t tell my daddy,” she whispered.
“Your father won’t be told because you are going to be good from now on, aren’t you, Miss Leah?”
Rick tapped the spoon a few times on her right buttock. Leah found she was instinctively holding her breath, her eyes screwed up and her teeth clenched in anticipation. Her body went rigid and consequently, the first landing of the spoon stung. The impression it left in her flesh may have been small in size, but its impact ricocheted throughout her cheek. Her gritted teeth held back the gasp, so it came out more like a sharply inhaled hiss. Then, before she could register the pain properly, her left cheek was targeted. Each attempt at relaxing and removing the tension was thwarted by the swift smarting. The spoon definitely hurt more than his firm hand.
It couldn’t be helped; as he spanked her with the spoon, her nightie rose up and exposed her bare cheeks. Initially embarrassed by the unveiling, she tried to lower her nightdress but he warned her to keep her hands clear. After four whacks of the hard spoon, she thought about how close she was to failing her daddy and losing her independence. Resolve seeped into her, so did determination to take her little punishment and put it to good use. She juddered, baulked a little and stamped bare feet on the wooden floor, but she didn’t cry nor beg for him to stop.
The smarts of the spoon lingered on and each one added to the next. A small fire had been lit in each buttock cheek and with it she could not help feeling a different kind of fire being ignited alongside it. Could he see it? Between her bare legs, below the cleft of her buttocks, her lips had swollen and she suspected she was wet, like she was when she fantasised about movie or pop stars.
“Ow,” she grimaced as the eleventh blow landed.
“This could have been much worse for you,” he told her. “At my school, miscreants were soundly thrashed with a cane.”
“Please don’t.”
“No, Miss Leah. Your bottom doesn’t deserve that. Not if you are good for me.”
He referred to himself. Not her father or her tutors, but Rick. She could see his face, the determined expression and the stern eyes, yet through it all, she saw a different man. Somebody like her, abandoned by parents and brought up to look after himself. She could do that too and she would to prove to him she could.
“I will be good. I promise,” she hollered as the last smack of spoon bounced off her sore flesh.
The spoon clattered onto the worktop. She slowly rose, letting the nightie slip back down, caressing the residual soreness of her behind. They stood facing each other, both silently panting in their own particular way. She so wanted him to reach out and kiss her, but it didn’t seem appropriate. Little by little, he began to back away.
“Please don’t,” she said. “Don’t ignore me.”
“I’m not,” he said slowly. “I can’t, Leah. I can’t give you what you want. I’m just your chauffeur. I can’t drive you to that place, the one you desire. It is forbidden.”
“By whom?” she said, almost tearfully.
“You’re too young.”
“You’re not that much older than me.”
“I mean you’ve still got to grow up a bit.”
“I can, I will. Soon. I’m nineteen next month.”
His finger reached out and pressed against her lips. “I know, Leah. But I’m just a driver. You should get dressed. You’ve missed the first lecture, but the next is due in half an hour. You can make that.”
He changed the topic and she understood: he would not be convinced by her voice, her attractive body, or by spanking her. It was impossible for him to be what she wanted him to be.
* * *
“You’ve got me a ticket to The Beatles concert!” she shrieked, jumping up and down on the spot. “Wow, I mean, how and I thought they’d all gone…”
“I got them, let’s just leave it at that,” said Rick.
“You too? You got one for yourself?”
“Naturally.”
“Why?” she asked, settling back on her feet, having bounced about her sitting room.
“Because you’ve done what you said you would do. You’ve not missed a lecture, got good grades, impressed your tutors, and you’re on track for passing your end-of-term exams,” said Rick. It was true. Her transformation had been nothing short of miraculous, given the timescale. Not once had he had to knock on her door to get her out of bed, nor had he listened to her bemoaning her poor grades. Since he had spanked her with the spoon, she had risen to the challenge and proved herself adept at studying. She even had found a studious bunch of fellow students to keep her on the straight and narrow.
“You didn’t have to, I mean,” she blushed. “I’m really grateful, Rick.”
Rick took a deep breath; now came the hard part. “It’s not just a reward, it is also an opportunity to celebrate, an early birthday present… and then say good-bye.”
A silence fell, and then her face followed suit as she assimilated his words. “Good-bye?”
“Yes. I’ve been offered a job abroad, starting on the tenth of December. I’d be a fool to turn it down.”
“You’re leaving me,” she said.
“It had to happen. This job, driving you, looking after you, it was never going to be long term. I’ve been waiting for this kind of post. I’m going to be a personal bodyguard to a Swiss banker.”
“In Switzerland?”
Her inability to absorb what he was saying made it all so much harder to explain. “Yes. Geneva.”
“When?”
“I fly out at the end of the week. I’m going down to London for a few days to see my father, so I leave tomorrow.” He was taking the train. He would have to sacrifice the car; it wasn’t his to take.
“What about me?” said Leah with her trembling hands still clutching the concert tickets.
“We both know it wasn’t going to be. You’re just starting your degree. This is not the time to be distracted by me, and I would be a distraction, you know that. You’ve proved to your father that you can be independent. I’ve even managed to convince him you can have your own little car and drive yourself.”
“He doesn’t know you spanked me? You didn’t tell him how you… You know?”
“I should hope not,” said Rick, alarmed at the idea. “You don’t need me to spank you. You will cope on your own. You’re growing up…”
“No, I’m not. I can be petulant and, and…” She gave up and sighed. “You’re right. Sorry. I’ve gotten used to you.”
Her downcast face needed to be reminded of what was in her hands.
“Let’s go and enjoy ourselves, shall we?” He took the tickets from her and waved them about her face. Immediately, the smile of excitement returned.
The concert at the Empire Theatre proved to be the perfect pick-me-up for Leah even if the circle seats were high up in the gods. The Beatles hadn’t performed in Liverpool for over a year and Rick had to pay a small fortune to buy the tickets. It was worth it, as with each song, she gradually forgot his imminent departure.
The music had first had been barely audible over the screaming fans. The Beatles were tiny tots on a distant stage and the sound system could not cope with the almost hysterical crowds. Rick hadn’t been a huge fan of the group. They seemed to appeal to the girls and their early style had not interested his musical tastes. He preferred the Rolling Stones. This concert showed a different side to the Beatles; they were evolving and showing their talents to be versatile and adaptive.
Next to him, Leah danced and waved her arms about to ‘Help!’, swayed to ‘Yesterday,’ and clapped to ‘Day Tripper’, a childish display of enthusiasm while singing at the top of her voice until nearly hoarse. She was lost in her own world and he was happy for her.
The decision to leave had not been an easy one, but he knew it was the right thing to do. She was bound to meet some eligible student at university and forget her driver. Listening to the music, he didn’t doubt she would change and mature, just like bands with staying power; she would find new and better ways to deal with life, she would grow into a fine woman. Her father had changed his mind too based on Rick’s gentle words of persuasion—Leah was to have greater freedoms now that she had left home.
The attraction remained. Unavoidable and almost unbearable. Keeping his hands off her had become increasingly hard over the weeks. He no longer had a need to spank her; those desires had been pushed aside by more pressing ones and he had to leave or risk destroying their friendship and his career. He wasn’t right for her.
After the concert, walking to the car parked off London Road, the hum of loud music stuck in his ears. Rick kept his hands in his pockets, resisting the temptation to take her hand in his. When they reached the car, recollections of the conversation prior to the concert brought back an uncomfortable silence. She made no further attempts to talk him out of his decision. As he drove home, she stared forlornly out of the window.
He opened the car door for her as he always did and she slipped out, clutching her handbag to her side. Holding onto the door, he looked down to see her puckered lips: a sweet offering of torment.
“Leah, please,” he said, pained.
“Just once, Rick,” she pleaded.
* * *
Her legs felt like jelly climbing out of the car seat. All the excitement of the evening had hit her in one swoop during the journey home. A strange exhaustion filled her, leaving her teetering on an emotional edge, and at the same time, she was starting to accept the situation. She wanted only one thing from him and that was a memory, not of his hands heating her bottom, but of his firm mouth and lips.
She pleaded with her eyes, holding up her face to his, which was cast in the shadows. To her delight, he succumbed and lowered his lips onto her own. She’d had expectations of her first kiss with Rick, but they were surpassed by the simplest of discoveries. She had anticipated a drooling wetness, the slithering dip of an eager tongue, and his lips slamming down onto her mouth aggressively, just like so many of the young men she had let kiss her. Instead, Rick’s lips were soft, moist, and tasted delicious, and he placed them on her with finesse, parting her own lips and applying the tiniest amount of pressure. She melted under his touch and wished he would not let her go, but he did. Neither a peck nor a long drawn-out kiss, it was a simple message of forbidden desire.
“I won’t forget what you’ve done for me, over the last months,” said Leah earnestly.
“Yes, you will. You’ll meet somebody…”
“No, just you,” she said adamantly. “You feel it too, I know you do.”
Rick’s eyes shut briefly and he gave the tiniest shake of his head, as if unwanted thoughts had to be tossed out of his mind. “I can’t give you what you need, regardless of how I feel,” he said in a strained voice.
Leah knew deep down he was right. Her father would never permit such a liaison, and her mother would see it as beneath her daughter’s status. Bound to her impending inheritance, Leah remained trapped in a life shaped by others, not herself.
She recovered her composure. “Then I
will hope you come back for me.”
“Don’t live your life waiting for me, Miss Leah,” said Rick, reverting to formal address.
The passenger door shut with a loud clunk and he opened the driver’s door. “I have to leave this behind,” he said. “Shame. I’ve good memories held in this car.”
“Take them with you,” said Leah. “Please, don’t leave them behind.” A tear trickled down her cheek and he brushed it away with a thumb and a rueful smile.
“Good-bye and good luck,” said Rick, climbing back into the driver’s seat.
“You too.” She struggled to say the words.
The car sped away and he did not look back.
Chapter Three
Tearing open the envelope, Leah stared at the letter and let out a loud expletive. It echoed around the hallway, off the oak flooring and the stained-glass portal of the front door. As her voice died away, she crumpled the officious document up in her hand.
“Six months!” she shouted out to nobody. It was worse than she had expected. Her solicitor had told her she would lose her licence, but she hadn’t envisaged a six-month driving ban.
“At least you passed the breathalyser,” he had said unsympathetically, following the latest court order for speeding.
“I’m not stupid. I never drink and drive,” she had said vehemently. Unfortunately, in recent weeks, she’d had a tendency to drive recklessly fast.
Wandering into the kitchen, staring at the cupboards, she slumped into a nearby chair, the letter still trapped between her fingers. A cascade of tears descended her cheeks. She let them fall unhindered, splashing on the table, forming droplets. Shoulders heaving, what began as a silent weeping quickly became a sobbing wretched display of misery. Alone and the sole occupant of the house, she could not depend on anyone to offer words of commiseration or comfort. Gradually, she regained her composure, the tears of regret dried up and she wiped away the droplets using the screwed-up letter.
Since her graduation six months earlier, life had gone from a resounding high point through a rollercoaster of ups and downs. This ban was the latest to add to the down list.