Owning Her: Beautiful Domestic Discipline

by Susan Sass

  I have to admit I was in a very good mood at the time, and the day was only looking more and more promising. As I was about to close the door something caught my eye. I smiled as I saw the now familiar face of my benefactor step out of his car across the street. You know, for all the money Joey has, he sure doesn't show a damn penny of it. To this day he drives a junky Geo metro that's half blue and half primer, and his attire really wasn't too much more extravagant. Worn out slacks, scuffed leather shoes, an old suit jacket and, to top it off, an orange baseball cap that clashed with everything, the last item being a pretty ridiculous attempt to hide his male pattern baldness, but hey, who am I to judge?

  I was about to heckle him about it, but something about the way he looked made me suddenly very uneasy. He was kind of meandering, staring at the ground and muttering to himself with a strange look on his face. It wasn't exactly a grim face that would imply he was here to cancel me, or an upset face that meant something was really wrong, or even stark raving lunacy, but there was definitely something that wasn't right. As he got closer he finally looked up at me.

  "Morning Drew," he said in his usual gruff fashion.

  "Morning Joey. Looks like you got business on the mind." He nodded, still wearing that strange expression. "I guess we'd better have some coffee then," I sighed. Me and Joey always talked business over coffee. In fact it had become something of a code between the two of us. Whenever we had to discuss something, we always referred to is as, "Getting coffee." I held the door open for him and followed apprehensively to the kitchen.

  When we reached the kitchen I moved to the table where my mug was already waiting and watched Joey set his hat on the counter, grab a cup and get his own. "Well Joey, I gotta tell you, that look scares the hell out of me. What's on your mind?"

  Joey considered my question for a minute and was adding sugar to his coffee when he finally answered me. "I've got some great news," he said unenthusiastically, "And a little bad news."

  Figuring as much, I said, "Lets start with good news."

  "Okay," said Joey as he walked to the table, sipping his coffee, "I got us a sponsor."

  His answer confused me a little, "Another one? I thought I had that pretty much taken care of."

  "Well, this sponsor is a little different," grunted Joey as he settled down into a chair across from me, "They're willing to pay for everything."

  "What? You mean like all the food? Electricity? Cable? Clothes? I've already got that covered."

  "No Drew," said Joey slowly, "I mean EVERYTHING. The server, the tech support, the advertising. They'll buy you cars and get you into exclusive clubs. They'll make your merchandise and sell it. Hell, they even offered to buy this house for you, cash. They're willing to pay for EVERYTHING." He let that sink in for a second, then continued, "I don't think I need to tell you what that means for our profit margin."

  I was stunned. Low prices be damned, we were still talking 100% profit. That was a small fortune, even split the way it was. Everyone in the house was contracted for 6% of the gross income. I did the math quickly in my head. Even at the lowest we had estimated I would still be making several thousand dollars a month, we all would be. Not to mention it would all go directly into my pocket. I had nothing to pay for, no bills, no mortgage, nothing. It was just to good to be true.

  I must have sat in shock for quite a while, because Joey eventually cleared his throat and brought me back to earth. "How did you get a sponsor like that Joey?" I asked, incredulous.

  "I know a guy who knows a guy, that's all. But they aren't our sponsor yet. They have a couple conditions I'm not sure you're going to like."

  I snorted, "I'm sure I can deal with whatever it is. They want me to wear t-shirts with their brand name? Or thank them for sponsoring us before and after each scene? Or maybe host a link to their site?"

  "Well," said Joey, "Most of that and more, but there's one thing I know you won't like."

  "Oh come on Joey, it can't be that bad."

  "I'll let you decide," sighed Joey, that strange expression dominating his face. "They want all the girls to wear the stuff too."

  I laughed, "That's silly Joey. I'm sure it won't be a problem."

  Joey started to get a pained look, "No Drew, you don't understand. They want ALL the girls to be wearing the stuff."

  Not understanding his meaning I said, "Yeah, I told you, it's not a big deal. They won't have a problem with it."

  Joey took a deep breath and let out a heavy sigh, then raised his hand with his fingers spread. Using his other hand he counted them out loud, "1... 2... 3... 4...," then wiggled his last finger pointedly. "ALL the girls Drew, and they want ALL the girls from the very beginning or they won't do it."

  "Wait," I said, comprehension dawning on me, "They want all five girls? But I haven't chosen a fifth yet!"

  "Now you see why I'm not exactly walking on sunshine." Sighing again, Joey continued. "Unluckily for both of us, we made a deal. I told you that you could pick the fifth whenever you were ready to, but in order to get this sponsor, it has to be soon." Joey stood up while he finished speaking. "I can't tell you how much we all want this thing, but I wont go back on my word, so it's up to you. Pick a girl or don't, take it or leave it Drew, it's your choice."

  And with that he left me. As Joey's footsteps receded I heard the front door open and shut, leaving me alone with a uniquely bizarre decision to make. Hire some random beauty queen and make a boatload of money, or wait for the right girl and get paid much less? Frankly, I was torn. While this had never been about the money for me, I knew the girls could all use the money, and without a doubt Joey wanted it. Man, I had to hand it to the guy, he was an honest business man. He didn't go back on his word and make the decision without me, and that went a long way towards convincing me to take the sponsor. On the other hand I didn't want some woman I wasn't attracted to in my house. Don't get me wrong, looks are a plus, but a porcelain doll without a thought in her pretty head is a huge turn off and, quite frankly, a waste of time.

  Suddenly a knock at the door brought me out of my deep reverie, and it had only been a few minutes since Joey had left. Quickly scanning the room I noticed Joey had left his hat lying on the counter. Still shaken, I stood up slowly and walked out of the room, grabbing Joey's hat on the way. I made my way to the door slowly, still thinking heavily. When I got there I opened the door and without looking up held out the hat and said, "You know, baldness is pretty common, it's not anything to be ashamed of."

  "Why? You going cue ball?" said an unfamiliar voice.

  Surprised, I looked up, "Sorry, I thought you were someone else..." I trailed off as my eyes traveled upwards, taking in and cataloging every detail. Barefooted, smooth creLeanne calves up to velvety soft thighs that disappeared behind a yellow sun dress with white trim. The dress rode along the smooth curves of her hips, hinting at paradise and then trimming back down to a fit waist and flaring out again up to her chest. More indescribably soft skin from fingertips to bare shoulders, and the V of the collar, modest but suggestive, calling out for me. Up farther to the graceful curve of her neck where I began to see the start of her silky brown hair flowing over her perfect skin. Farther up still to find cheeks permanently dimpled from constant smiling and a forehead free of worry wrinkles. Eyes that seemed one second to be green, the next to be grey, then blue and back again.

  "Hello?" I heard her ask.

  Shaking my head I said, "I'm sorry, did you say something?"

  "I said 'Obviously, otherwise you wouldn't be playing shaolin hairstyle counsellor.'" I must have given her a stupid look, because she sighed in disgust and said, "Why do I always pick the slow ones?"

  Feeling completely off balance for some reason I flushed, getting annoyed with myself, "I apologize, is there something I can help you with?"

  "Well," she said, "A slightly less observant blind/deaf/mute might have noticed I'm having car troubles."

  For the first time I noticed that her dress was stained black and across the st
reet a car was billowing black smoke out of the hood. "Sorry, I'm feeling a little off today. What can I do for you?"

  "Do you have a phone I can use?"

  "Sure thing," I said, motioning inside and holding the door open, "It's in the kitchen." I let her pass me then closed the door. I followed slowly, listening to her in the kitchen. I was really weirded out by my apparent IQ drop. I'm not exactly laureate material, but I pride myself in keeping a level head, staying calm, and being quick on my feet. Shaking it off, I decided it was just the combination of having to make huge decision and being surprised. Taking a deep breath, I walked to the kitchen where this mystery girl was now swearing up a storm at the phone.

  "What's the problem?" I asked.

  She put the phone down. "I'm an idiot, that's the problem."

  "Anything I can do to help?" I asked.

  She put the phone down and cradled her head between her hands. "Not unless you can go back in time and stop me from breaking up with my boyfriend to move to the big city to pursue a career in music. The dreams of another foolish 20 year old smashed in less than two months. God I wish I had a drink..." she said, trailing off.

  I blinked. There was no way. The odds were beyond astronomical. A beautiful, single, jobless 20 year old had just landed in my lap. The thick-headedness took over again, clouding my usually good judgment and agreeable public speaking skills. "You could live here," I blurted out stupidly. Why wouldn't my brain and mouth just play nice together? They were screwing me over in a big way.

  Lifting her head she cocked an eyebrow at me, "Um, yeah. Looks like someone forgot to take their crazy pills this morning, so I'm just gonna go before I, you know, get axed or something."

  Holding up my hand in supplication I sighed and continued, "I'm sorry, I should explain that better. I live here with 4 women and we're looking for a 5th roommate to fill up the house. Honestly I've interviewed dozens of girls and turned them all down, but you fit the bill perfectly."

  Looking me up and down she said, "Yeah? And what exactly are you? The dimwitted gay stylist?"

  That last snide remark cut right through the fog engulfing my brain and piqued my own barbed sense of humor. Using the most condescending voice I could manage I said, "Obviously not, seeing as you're walking around in that atrocious thing and I've somehow managed to keep my breakfast down."

  "Oh," she said with a little smile, "He has teeth, I like it."

  Still mad, I shot back at her, "Like it or not, you've got a pretty shitty way of saying thanks. Now about my job offer, do you want the details or should I keep it nice and simple for you using small words?"

  Her eyes blazed, "Hasn't anyone ever told you that you shouldn't pick fights you can't win?"

  I scoffed, "Win? The Special Olympics wouldn't let you out of their sight long enough for us compete, let alone long enough for me to show you how the big kids play."

  She laughed, eyes still brimming with fire, "That was a good one. I'll have to watch what I say in the future."

  "The future?" I asked.

  She stood up and walked over to me, holding out her hand. "I'm Erin."

  Smiling, I shook her hand, "I'm Chad."

  "Well Chad," she said, looking around, "Why don't you tell me exactly what it is that you do here?"

  As I showed her the house and let her poke around a little bit I got her to tell me her story. There was nothing too out of the ordinary, but the shame of having to move home after only two months of being away had gotten the best of her. She'd extended herself past her means and had ended up digging herself a pretty substantial financial hole.

  In the first few minutes I spent with Erin I got a pretty good lock onto her personality type. This wasn't a person to take failure lightly, and while she might laugh on the outside, on the inside it gnawed at her in the worst way. For her this was the worst scenario imaginable, because on top of being on her way home to beg mom and dad to help dig her out of debt, she had to admit to everyone that she had failed. This might not have been too big a deal for most people, but she was the type of person who doesn't have an ego. Where most people wear bravado and shield themselves, she wore her confidence on her sleeve as her defense. The upside of this is that she always came across as being straightforward and earnest, the downside is that too big a blow could break her confidence entirely. While nothing that dramatic had happened yet, it was still uncomfortably close to being a real possibility.

  While she was telling me her story I also felt like she opened up farther to me than she probably would to those she was close to, giving me little details that she would normally leave out. Exactly how much she was in debt, all the days she'd gone hungry, her futile job search and the rejections that plagued her at every turn, even at fast food restaurants. All in all it wound up being a pretty standard tale of woe and tragedy in the grand evil metropolis, and she was desperate to turn the whole thing around. I basically had her in my pocket, now all I had to do was prove I wasn't some abusive psycho and sell her on the idea of being spanked all the time in front of thousands of people. An easy sell for people like you and I, no doubt, but to vanillas? Perhaps a tad harder.

  The whole time we toured the house she kept asking me questions, trying to figure out what exactly the house was for. I would always give vague answers, steering her back to her story, but around the third room she noticed the cameras, then backtracking located them in every room in the house. After she'd found them all, we went into my study and she put her hands on her hips as she confronted me. "Are those what I think they are?" she asked.

  "Well," I said slowly, crossing my arms in front of me and taking a relaxed stance, "that depends on what you think they are."

  She snorted derisively, "I know what they are, the only question is what does one man do in a house of five women with cameras in every room..."

  I shrugged and tried to change the topic, but she held out her hand and stopped me, "Oh no you don't. I want a straight answer mister. Right now, or else." She backed up her statement by trying to stare me down, even rising up on her tiptoes to get eye level with me.

  'Well,' I reasoned with myself, 'she's playing rough, so why shouldn't I?' Rising to my full height I leaned over her and stared hard into her eyes, "Or else what?"

  Erin recoiled as if struck. Aside from taking failure hard, she was used to getting what she wanted when she wanted it, not in a bratty way but in a tenacious no nonsense "I'm taking it" kind of way. Being beautiful and strong willed, she wasn't used to men saying no to her about much of anything, let alone a straight demand.

  Gathering herself up to even greater height she matched my stare for intensity and said, "Or else I'll show you how a woman should deal with an errant young man."

  Shocked, it took me a second to regain my composure, then I immediately started laughing. "I'd like to see you try."

  Erin huffed herself up indignantly, "Don't be so full of yourself. I've spanked bigger men than you."

  Still laughing I said, "Oh really, then perhaps you'd like to know what it is that I do here." I leaned in conspiratorially, causing her to move back, then whispered loudly, "I'm the house disciplinarian," leaning out I continued, "That means whenever any of the ladies who lives here steps out of line, its my job to punish them, and I'm very good at it." Erin looked stunned by what I had to say, her stare half incredulous half disbelief. Taking advantage of her silence, I went on, "And I'm not sure how to break it to you, but you've broken about a dozen rules since you've been here, so I'm afraid you'll need to be spanked," I said playfully and reached out as if to grab her arm.

  You know, I probably shouldn't have been as surprised by her response as I was, but even if I had been fully prepared, I wouldn't have dodged the full armed slap she threw at me. As it was I managed to turn away from it slightly, but the blow still landed with a resounding CRACK turning my head 90 degrees and making my vision white for an instant. I slowly closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to control the instant burning anger surging through me. W
hen I opened my eyes I was surprised that I wasn't seeing through a veil of red being as angry as I was. I slowly turned back towards her and noticed that she was frozen still with shock at what she had done, but as soon as she saw my eyes she unfroze and started to get this nervous look on her face. I guess she saw something she didn't like on my face, because she started to back up slowly. I let her back up until she bumped into the wall behind her, then I stalked slowly over to her, taking my time. When I was within an arms reach Erin threw her hands up to defend herself as she cringed against the wall.

  Lightening quick, I reached out and grabbed her wrist in my hand and pulled her towards me. Terrified, she looked up into my eyes. "You know what the difference is between a woman spanking a man and a man spanking a woman?" I asked her. Eyes as wide a saucers she shook her head. "Well, a woman needs a man's consent to go along with it, but a man can spank a woman's ass black and blue anytime she needs it regardless of her wants and wishes." And with that I started across, the room towards my straight backed chair, my iron grip still on Erin's wrist, dragging her with me. She was still silent but now she was trying to get away, pulling on her arm, throwing her weight away from me, clawing at my hand, but I was too mad for any of that to effect me much, and I just kept moving forward.