Free Driven Wild by Jaye Peaches

as he fingered her tiny anal bud, that she protested at him.
    “No?” he said, rocking his hard cock between her cleft.
    “I’m not sure,” she stuttered.
    “Not yet, then,” he said. He didn’t doubt he could convince her otherwise.
    Then, after the fortnight honeymoon period, her problems began to return. The hiatus of good behaviour ended. She struggled to rise in the morning, she snapped at him over breakfast, and then on one occasion she stumbled back to the car after a night out with friends, clearly drunk. Once home, having escorted her upstairs, Rick gave her a reprimand and told her if she didn’t get up on time the next day, he would spank her.
    Swaying by the door to her bedroom, Leah glared at him for a second, eyes blinking, her mouth shaped as if she intended to speak. Then her lips pressed tight together. Rick waited to catch her, convinced she was about to fall. Instead, she pulled herself up straight and marched through the door, slamming it behind her.
    Rick contemplated following her into the room. Initially, he could not countenance climbing into bed with her. Her lures—the charm of her curvaceous body, her dark shiny hair, even when she was drunk and stroppy—were irresistible; he would be safer in the spare room. Then he thought he heard her retching. Striding into the bedroom, he ignored her futile protests, pointing out she needed to be taken care of and then when she flopped on the bed, acquiescent and semi-conscious, he resigned himself to putting her to bed and keeping a watchful eye on her stupefied state.
    The next day came and she lay in bed, refusing to answer his calls and ignoring her ringing alarm clock. He stared at her in disbelief, wrapped in her bed sheets and hiding her face from him.
    “You were warned, Miss Leah. Now you will face the consequences. Get out of bed, get dressed or else these consequences will worsen. As it is, I will deal with your tardiness at a future point in time.”
     
    * * *
     
    After Rick had left the bedroom, Leah peered out from underneath the covers. Her eyes bright and awake, she let out low groan, an inward growl of frustration. She hadn’t intended to make him cross; although he didn’t sound very angry with her, she had thought her actions might irritate him. Confusion reigned in her mind and the heart of the problem was the conflicting role of her chauffeur turned lover.
    Too fast, everything perhaps had been done with haste. The inviting him to stop over had happened on one night and then promptly blossomed into every night and then she had provided him with one of her spare rooms for his meagre possessions and clothing.
    Their relationship remained undefined. He drove her to work, to her social functions, the weekly visit to the tennis club, and the odd foray into the shops. All proper and what she had imagined a driver would do. Except at night, Rick morphed into her lover, creeping between the sheets, touching her and sending her to a heavenly place.
    The evening before she had lost track of the number of cocktails she had consumed. It was a weakness of hers to forget the alcohol content and glug away without consideration for her dizzy head and staggering legs. Dancing to the latest hits, she had crashed into people, knocking their drinks flying, argued with the barman about who should be served first, and at one point she stood on the table and did the twist, her mini-skirt riding up her legs, showing her frilly knickers to everyone. The catcalls had been raucous from the male bystanders.
    Rick, perched in the corner of the club with his tonic water, had given her a serious frown of disgust, even more so when she nearly threw up in his precious Mercedes. Not his, the company’s, but he treated it like his own car.
    Helping her to bed, she had expected him to sleep in his own room, but he didn’t. There had been no lovemaking, but he told her she needed to be looked after, especially if she was feeling sick. She had whispered a