Taught to Serve (12 page)

The second came, and it was harder. Rob was not going to hold back nor make it easy for Casey. There was not the accuracy of a cane or crop. The gnarled sticks, with their crooked shapes and variety of thickness, did not lend themselves to landing in one neat location. A few stray branches struck the crease between her thigh and buttock. With the next blow, the wider reaches of the birch rod caught her upper thighs. At each swishing sound, Casey would move. She hoped swinging her hips into the car’s radiator would give her a little relief from the driving force of the birch. Instead, she was trapped between the metal and the birch’s harsh descent.

There was a tiny breeze about them. It made the leaves rustle, the lighter branches move about at the edge of the copse, and the longer blades of grass at her feet sway. Unfortunately, the wind’s coolness did nothing to help the increasing fire that was burning in her bottom. Tucked away on the verge of a barely used lane, she had nobody to cry out to but the wild inhabitants of the rural setting. As Casey braced herself, palms pressed down on the hood, she could see Rob reflected in the windshield before her with a raised arm and the birch in his hand. She quickly shut her eyes again, the sight of his stern features with the cruel implement swinging down towards her only reinforcing the sense of need in her. She wanted to be spanked hard.

There was nothing to do but succumb. She sunk readily into her own place of disappointment and regret. None of this would have been necessary if she had not been so self-absorbed, rude, and thoughtless. An old-fashioned spanking for a spoilt young woman seemed appropriate.

A branch snapped as it hit her flamed cheeks, accompanied by a bleak howl of pain exploding out of Casey’s mouth. There were two more strikes to go, and Casey looked over her shoulder. Unperturbed, Rob simply removed the broken stick and nudged her back down. She let out a sob. By now, the pain was almost too much. She had not found a way to process the novelty of it. A dozen was too few and applied too severely. A lighter, longer use of the birch might have given her the chance to take it well, maybe even the opportunity to enjoy it in a perverse way. However, that was not Rob’s intention, and she could do nothing but weep until he finished.

Rob tossed the birch aside while Casey remained crushed to the bonnet of the car, clutching the rising crisscrossed welts on her buttocks.

“Sorry,” she whispered. “I forgot being polite is a reflection of both of us.”

“I think you owe that apology to your parents.”

“I will ring them when we get home.”

“Good.”

“I apologise for making you uncomfortable and cross with me,” said Casey, lifting herself upright. “I was selfish and inconsiderate to everyone.”

“Yes.”

“I am upset though,” said Casey carefully.

“Why?”

“Because you’ve never talk much about your past, and it’s caused me to think things about you that are incorrect.”

There was a lengthy pause between the two. Without facing each other, they could not see each other’s faces or the collecting of thoughts behind shuttered eyes.

Rob sighed. “Yes. You’re right. I have not been fair. I have asked much about you and given little back. Tonight after dinner, I will tell you my story.”

It broke the barrier that had grown between them. In an instance the air cleared, and they were moving together, intertwined and wrapped in an embrace. Without shame, they addressed their need for emotional release on the warm bonnet of the Mini.

Casey had never had sex in the open, nor had she ever envisaged having sex on a car. Held against him by his enveloping strong arms and a peppering of kisses, her fingers fumbled in their attempts to release his swollen cock. The pants fell away easily, and Rob eased her up onto the bonnet. A hand reached under her top and pulled down a cup of her brassiere. Rob tweaked her nipple as if he had found a button on a dashboard.

Casey perched on the bonnet with legs splayed, inviting him in, while Rob flicked a nipple with a wry smile.

“You look so sexy,” he commented.

“I feel a little ludicrous,” she confessed.

“It seems to be how you are spending the day,” he said, twisting her nipple in one direction.

“Ouch,” she squawked. “I’ve paid, haven’t I? For being foolish?”

“Have you?” he queried. His head dipped down, and his mouth replaced his teasing fingers. Casey groaned and found lying back on the Mini was reasonably comfortable. While he sucked, she began to overcome her inhibitions. In the middle of nowhere, on the edge of a small copse, she did not care that they could be seen by an unexpected passer-by.

The foreplay did not last long. Rob’s urgency to be deep within her took precedence, and he told her to turn over. Bent over the edge of the car once again was an easier position for her to maintain. He could also see the red welts before his eyes as his finger traced along one mark. Casey did not wince but merely looked over her shoulder to see Rob’s face. There was no obvious expression. His features were an odd mixture of excitement and sternness, as if he did not know whether to admire what he had done to her or feel irked.

With her clothing in disarray, Casey’s slender waist had been unveiled. Her hips were suitably wide and curvaceous—something of which she was proud. The lobes of her buttocks were the kind that an anatomist would like to draw, and she had often wondered about posing naked for an art class to earn extra money. Below, her thighs showed sufficient musculature to give her a refined shape—the envy of her girlfriends. Her skin was quite smooth and pale in colouration. She had never lain under a tropical sun on an exotic sandy beach before. She fancied Rob taking her to one. The vision of him lying on a sunbed next to her was far too appealing to ignore. The tiny scrap of a bikini, the kind her mother would deplore, would be all that she would be allowed to wear.

Rob’s own physique rested against her, leaning over her and keeping her warmth locked in. His cock had planted itself between her singed buttock cheeks, and his hands shifted her hips up higher. Firm, assured hands, and they gripped her tightly, holding her steady. The waiting was excruciating while he teased her with the tip of his erection. She had to whimper, to plead with muted sounds for him to enter her, but it was only when she relaxed and stopped trying to impale herself on him that he began to press against the lips of her sex.

Casey rested a cheek on the warm metal of the Mini—her own little vehicle, which she had come to adore if only because it had given her the freedom to leave her parents’ home and commute. She wondered how long she and her little car were to be a part of Rob’s life. Such thoughts were dismissed in an instant as he penetrated her from behind. Immediately the car’s suspension began to creak loudly as he pounded against her.

The giggling could not be helped. It was cathartic—along with the sore bottom and the intense tingling of her clitoris. As Rob thrust with increasing vigour, the engine rattled beneath her.

“Oh my… poor…” she could not finish her sentence. “I’m coming!”

“Wait,” he commanded.

Casey heard his voice sink into her head. She forgot about their surroundings and her poor Mini, and she decided to do as he wished and dismiss her own needs. A glow of accomplishment burst from inside her and radiated outwards. She hoped he could feel the heat in her pussy. It would tell him she was obeying him.

“Yes, yes!” Rob exploded and slumped down onto Casey’s back, panting. “Oh, my sweet girl.”

Casey remained bent over, his come dripping down her thigh. He wiped it away with his folded handkerchief.

“Your poor… clit?” queried Rob.

“No,” murmured Casey. “Well, she is now. A little bit stuck on the cusp of pleasure.”

His hand slid underneath and found her throbbing clitoris, and slowly he began to circle around it with a finger.

“You can come now, Casey,” he whispered into her ear, and Casey could not ignore his request. As she came, he kissed her neck, murmuring words in her ears. She could not remember what he said, but she was sure in her recollections that they were dirtiest things Rob had ever said to her.

It was as they regained their composure and stood upright that they reacquainted themselves with their situation. As they collected up their abandoned clothes, they noted—much to their amusement—that the car’s ancient suspension had borne the brunt of their activities and survived. Being stranded on a country lane would have been an ignoble end to the day.

Collecting up the dirty dishes, Casey was conscious she was being watched. She gripped the plates tightly in her hands and carefully transferred them from the dining room to the kitchen. She washed, tidied, and returned the kitchen to a state of cleanliness. Switching off the light, she went in search of Rob. He had moved from the dining room to the drawing room and had taken up residence in his favourite armchair.

A small footstool was by his feet, and it was on its embroidered surface that Casey gingerly placed her bottom. Rob did not comment on her discomfort. If it became too much, she would simply lie on her belly on the rug nearby and rest her elbows on a cushion. Usually the couple would read post-dinner, and sometimes they talked. The choice was Rob’s to make, and she waited patiently for him. As he had promised, he intended to discuss something of his past, and Casey wondered what she was about to find out about her mysterious professor.

When Rob finally began his story, she listened attentively, perched on her stool.

* * *

He had started life in the North of the country and in an environment far removed from his current one. Rob’s father was a miner.

“A miner!” expressed Casey with surprise.

“Like his father and on back through the generations,” said Rob.

A father who worked hard until he was made redundant and was sent back to the surface to live a life for which he had no preparation. His lungs were too damaged to live long, and he died, leaving his wife to bring up two children.

“She hadn’t worked up until then. She did odd jobs, but for the most part she stayed at home.”

Everything changed, and his mother sought any employment she could find and did many jobs. Most were physically demanding, and she had little time for her children.

“The library was the one place she insisted we visit every week,” recalled Rob. “And the charity shops to buy cheap second-hand clothes and books.”

His parents were book lovers, and while his mother loved biographies, his father read thrillers. The tiny terrace house had been filled with the written word, and it had inspired Rob to study hard and focus on a different future.

“My mum left for work one day in her car and didn’t come back.”

Casey gasped at the abruptness of his statement.

“Nobody’s fault. It was a mechanical problem, but unfortunately she was killed in the crash. Suddenly my life changed overnight.”

His sister had been sent to live with an aunt, and Rob was sent overseas to France to live with his great-uncle, a man he had never met and who turned out to be an eccentric.

“I was turning into a man, but like many of my age, I was not there yet and fought with those about me. I resented having to leave my friends and live in a strange country. However, I discovered I had a gift for words in other languages.”

His great-uncle, sensing the young Rob could become a handful and rebellious, nurtured his nephew with lengthy debates and exchanges. It was his uncle who suggested Rob should study law and use his love of words to become an expert. The older man was an author of books and would immerse himself for hours in his study.

Somehow Rob outgrew his rebellion and adapted to living abroad. Eventually, he returned to his native country to study at university and begin his career as a lawyer.

“My great-uncle did not live alone,” said Rob. “He had—for want of a better word—a mistress. They never married, and she lived with him as if she was his courtesan. I thought nothing of it at the time. How Maria behaved with Anton was not something I personally chose to explore. I chased the local girls and saw nothing unusual.”

“Unusual?” queried Casey.

“While I was away studying, Anton took ill and unfortunately died. But not before I had become fond of him and he of me. We had much in common personality-wise, and he left a lasting impression on me. In his will, he left his house and contents to Maria, but to me he left his money, placed in trust until I was twenty-one.”

“A substantial amount, I assume.”

“Yes. His brother was my mother’s father. She spoke little of her family history, and I believe she married against the wishes of her father. It was a match of love between a working class man and a girl whom he met while she travelled. They did love each other dearly. They argued, naturally, but my sister and I never doubted their commitment to each other.”

“Did Maria resent you taking the money?”

“What?” asked Rob, taken aback. “No. She was always generous, and though she never attempted to replace my mother, she certainly wasn’t distant or unwelcoming. She was… different and unique.”

Rob reached over to the table next to his chair and held in his hand a leather bound book. “Anton’s journal. His memoires. He left them to me, and I read them after he died. Then it all made sense to me. I learnt much from those writings, and I found he exemplified the life I wished to lead.”

Once Rob was established in his career, he had gone on to seek his own path, and using his uncle’s writings as a guide, he sought out and found people he preferred. His chosen company were kindred spirits in thoughts and actions.

“You are not my first lover,” said Rob carefully. “You must realise that?”

“Of course. Neither were you my first. Though I never expected to find so much about myself by being with one man.”

“However, you are the first to ever live with me. Just as Anton chose Maria as his lover.”

Casey blushed at his compliment. “So, you grew up with such a mix of experiences while mine were locked into one place. I had to break free from it, and I think I have brought the baggage with me.”