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“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.
