Driving the Ferrari

A tale of two spankings.

When two women misbehaved they are both going to have to face the consequences – at the same time!

*****

“I can’t believe you bought this!” exclaimed Melanie and traced a finger along the beige leather trim.

“I didn’t, remember?” replied her sister-in-law Christie. “He bought it, but we both get to drive it.”

The traffic moved again and Christie put her foot down. The Ferrari surged forward, almost too quickly and she slammed her foot on the brake. She giggled nervously. “Still getting used to it.”

“Miles won’t let me drive his DB9,” frowned Melanie. “He won’t let me go behind the wheels of his baby.”

“You’re his baby too,” smiled Christie. “His sweetheart.”

“Yes, I suppose so,” said Melanie unconvinced.

The car halted on a side street and Christie turned to her passenger. “I’ve an idea.”

Back at Christie’s apartment, her husband and his brother returned from their trip to the DIY store. Leaving the purchases on the kitchen table, Jeff began to grind beans for a fresh pot of coffee.

“They’re not back,” remarked Miles. “We said an hour, didn’t we?”

“Yep,” confirmed Jeff. “She knows I don’t like her out in it for too long. Goes to her head driving that car.”

“Should have my policy,” said Miles. “Don’t let her near my car. Not ready for it.”

They took their coffee mugs into the drawing room. The first floor apartment was spacious and had three large bedrooms. Jeff had purchased the flat a few months previously not long after he married Christie. His brother and wife visited from their side of the city to help with redecorating. The living room had completed its make-over and Jeff was proud of the appearance. No longer dated by decades old fashions, it had been turned into a contemporary homage to the latest interior designs. A speciality of Christie’s.

“They should have been back before us,” said Jeff. “Probably got lost.”

“I don’t think so.  They’ve been up to no good. Those two together,” laughed Miles.

There was the sound of tyre wheels grinding on the gravel drive. Miles walked over to one of the front two windows. Peering down to the extensive frontage of the apartment block, he spied the Ferrari pulling up. What caught his attention was the driver. She stepped out with a big grin on her face and her passenger quickly joined her. Miles watched with increasing anger, as the car key exchanged hands.

Behind Miles shoulder, his brother growled, “What the…. The little minxes.”

Christie and Melanie breezed into the living room to find their respective husbands lounging on opposite sofas, coffee mugs in hands and in mid conversation.

“Hi girls,” said Miles with a broad smile of welcome. “You were gone longer than we thought.”

“Oh yes, sorry,” said Christie quickly. “It’s the car.”

“It’s irresistible,” added Melanie sitting down next to Miles.

“So it would seem,” said Jeff. “We said an hour. You didn’t text.”

“I know, we just got… carried away with the feel. It’s such an amazing car to drive,” said Christie. “We didn’t speed.”

“We?” prompted Jeff.

“I didn’t….” said Christie hastily glancing at her shoes. “Sorry, not texting.”

“Uhmm,” said Jeff. “Now Miles and I were just discussing how remarkable similar we are when it comes to rules.”

“Rules?” gulped Melanie withdrawing her hand from her husband’s lap.

“You know,” said Jeff. “Sulking, bratty back chat, going to bed on time and, oh, lying.”

“Yes,” said Miles. “Lying is definitely a punishable offence. As is driving sports cars without permission.”

The women shot a glance at each other. They both knew it was too late. They had been caught red-handed.

“Now, being late back might have caught you a little time in the corner, but driving without permission is a spankable offence.”

“Christie said it was OK,” said Melanie with a weakening voice. It was a pathetic excuse. It was Jeff’s car.

“As for Christie,” said Jeff with a deadpan voice, “I only have one word to say. Insurance.”

Christie’s eyes shut and she uttered, “Shit,” under her breath.

“Didn’t cross your mind did it?” snapped Jeff. “Mel isn’t insured to drive the car.”

“So,” said Miles with his eyes fixed on his wife. “Driving without permission, uninsured, late back and not texting. It is quite a long list.”

“Yes,” said Melanie not returning his gaze. She could only feel her heart pounding and her hands went clammy. “Sir.” She added belatedly.

“Which room?” asked Miles to Jeff.

“Guest is fine,” he replied. “Help yourself to what you need. Christie and I will spend some time in our bedroom.”

Miles took his wife by the arm and marched her into the back bedroom.

“Miles, darling,” she began nervously.

“Not a word,” he said. “I’m doing the talking. Now get undressed and present yourself.”

Melanie peeled off her clothes as slowly as possible. Inside she was psyching herself up to what lay ahead. She had an atrocious record for behaviour recently and it seemed to be a regular occurrence to be bent over and showing her behind to her husband.

“Hands on the bed, legs apart,” instructed Miles as he began to unloop his leather belt.

In the adjoining bedroom, Christie was in a similar state of undress and nerves. Her required position was over his knee and in her husband’s hand, the hairbrush.

“I can’t believe how stupid you are sometimes. Uninsured, in a Ferrari.”

“I’m sorry,” wailed Christie.

“You will be, by the time this arse his red hot.”

~

The apartment’s front door opened quietly. The middle-aged woman stuck her head around the door and muttered a quiet, “Hello?”

Nobody answered and she crept in, shutting the door behind her. Putting her handbag on the hallway table, she opened the cloakroom door and found her customary apron.  With swift fingers she tied back her grey tinged long hair into a ponytail and switched her heels for a pair of sneakers, which she kept in her oversized handbag. In another closet, she extracted the vacuum cleaner and the dusters. With a humming tone under her breath, she proceeded to start work on cleaning the apartment.

She polished the walnut table in the hallway, straighten two pictures, which were hanging crooked on the wall, and re-arranged the posy in the vase.  No cobwebs survived the extensor on her duster.

It wasn’t until she reached the living room, that she heard a strange noise. Then another, not quite from the same direction. Then another and a small cry. She shuffled towards a bedroom door.

“Twenty, sir,” shrieked a muffled woman’s voice.

The cleaner jumped back from the door. She was sure she heard the reverberation of a loud slap. Unsure what to make of the unusual sounds, she moved towards the other door. This time she heard rapid smacks, as if somebody was clapping hard and fast.

“Please!” came the woman’s voice from that room.

The cleaner moved back towards the previous door and put her ear closer to the whitewashed wooden door. She could hear a man’s voice talking.

“You’re safety is very important to me.  You do not drive fast cars. You only passed your driving test a month ago!”

There was a snivel in response and another slap, like a clapper board.

Behind the other door, another man lectured. “Do you want to have a criminal record. Uninsured driver! Mel can barely drive her own car alone.”

“I know, I’m sorry!” yelped the woman.

A string of smacks could be heard.

“Were you going to lie to me? Tell me you drove?”

“Probably,” whimpered the woman.

The smacks returned in rapid fire.

The cleaner stepped away. Now she understood some of the things she found lying around in the bedroom. The odd wooden spoon, the spatula, even the bath brush, which she had returned to his correct location on numerous occasions.

It was not her business what the couple got up to in their own home. However, the presence of two couples bemused her. The house was occupied by one couple.  She decided to clean the kitchen.

“Hello,” said a familiar voice as she wiped down the kitchen surfaces.

“Oh gosh, Jeff, you made me jump,” she said with a nervous smile.

“Been here long?” Jeff asked stepping into the kitchen.

“No, not long,” she lied.

“Forgot you switched days this week.” He nodded in recollection. “My brother is here with his wife.”

“Oh, I see,” she said. “Got the new car then?”

“Yes,” said Jeff. “Good isn’t she?”

“Beautiful.”

The awkwardness continued until Miles appeared next to his brother. The two looked like twins to the cleaner. Same colouring, height and similar clothing. The elder was slightly broader across the shoulders and his hair trimmed.  Not only were they similar in appearance, they exhibited personality traits in common. They had in their busy lives acquired both wealth and two extraordinarily attractive wives, who they adored.  Their women were of a rare pedigree and the brothers had searched hard to find suitable partners for their unusual tastes.

“I’ve about finished in here,” she said. “I need to do the living room.”

“If you don’t mind…” began Jeff, but she bustled past him at a pace.

Re-entering the room, she was struck by two things which had not been present before: the quiet sobbing and the two naked women standing in opposing corners. Both fidgeted, trying not to rub their smarting, glowing red bottoms.

“Oh dear,” said the cleaner with a chortle. “Have they been naughty?”

“Very,” said Jeff entering the room behind her and clearing his throat nervously. “Let me explain…” He was interrupted abruptly.

“I thought as much. Now when him indoors forgets to put his dirty socks in the laundry or leaves his well-fingered newspapers on the settee, he gets spanked with my ruler. Two foot long and hard like a plank. Works a treat every time.” She turned to smile at the two young men, whose jaws had dropped down low. “Thought you two had a monopoly on it? Ah!”

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