Owning Cousin StaceyChapter 8
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"I never knew..." Rebecca said softly as I left. I wasn't sure which one of us she was talking to nor did I know what it was she had never known.
When I had arrived, I'd gotten the impression from the guys on the loading dock that Rebecca was the office bitch. As I left, the guy in the office next to hers was out in the hall. I figured he had heard at least part of the commotion and had some idea what had taken place. I winked at him. He gave me a thumbs up. Just as I thought. If Rebecca had managed to summon an audience, they would have cheered.
I was glad I hadn't been called on to read Rebecca's palm. There were some dark little corners to her I would never have guessed. I had no plans to call her in the future, but I suspected I hadn't heard the last of her.
On Friday, I took Karen out again. We did dinner and a movie. When I took her home, I again refused her invitation to come in.
"You're the first guy who hasn't been all over me on the first or second date."
"Your taste in men is improving."
"Do I at least get a kiss?"
"Certainly." Karen was a most pleasant armful. I briefly considered accepting her invitation, but decided to stick with my plan. I bid her goodnight and went home.
This was the off Saturday for Sharon. I was looking forward to my next encounter with the hapless Sharon (that was how I had come to think of her) and thought about changing her schedule to weekly. I still was not serious about her and treated her as sort of a diversion but finally decided against weekly visits from her. Nonetheless, I was restless and in need of diversion. I gave Helen a call.
"Hi, Helen. This is Bob Canfield. The last time I saw you I made a rather unkind remark. It's been weighing on me and I finally decided to call and apologize. Could I make it up to you by buying you dinner?"
"Why thank you, Bob, that's very kind. It just so happens I'm free this evening."
"Great. I'll pick you up about six."
"Fine. By the way, I'm a vegetarian."
"Doesn't surprise me. See you then."
I spent a pleasant evening with Helen. She was fun to talk to because she and I were so different. Her years reading palms had made her a keen observer of people. We took turns speculating about the other people in the restaurant. I was more analytical in my approach. Her approach seemed random and disorganized but she popped up out of the blue with insights that were completely unavailable to me. It was fascinating to watch her work. I could only get from A to C by way of B. She could go straight from A to C, but was often unable to get to B. Weird, but fascinating.
I asked her if she had stacked the deck the night we read each other's palms.
"Of course. Karen needs an upgrade from the type of guys she usually dates. You'd be good for her. She wouldn't do you any harm either. You're a bit more lost than you pretend to be. I can't tell about the long term, but short term I think you'd both benefit."
"You know I've been dating her?"
"Yes, she told me."
"You've been talking to Karen?" Great. All I needed was a third party meddling in the relationship.
"I know what you're thinking. I won't meddle in your relationship. Nor do I carry tales. I won't tell you what she says and she won't hear of this evening."
I was only partially reassured, although I suppose Karen needed to talk girl talk to someone and Helen would probably be as good as any.
"One other piece of advice," Helen continued. "Be careful of Rebecca. She seems to be an attractive confident successful woman, someone right up your alley. There's a strangeness there. I can't put my finger on it, but there's something about her. Caution is called for."
I told her about my encounter with Rebecca.
"You spanked her? That's great! I love it. I wouldn't have thought of that one, and it was probably your best option. If you'd turned her down or just ignored her she would probably raise the stakes. Going along with her game and taking her to a motel would have been even worse. Yes, I'd say you handled her as well as possible, especially considering the time in which you had to react. But then the idea of spanking her would naturally have occurred to you, wouldn't it. So tell me, have you spanked Karen yet?"
"Huh?"
"Have you given Karen a spanking?"
"Wouldn't you know if I had?"
"Of course I would. But you are planning on it, aren't you?"
"Well, I wouldn't want to..."
"Bob, I'm not being judgmental, at least not in the way you think. What you two do together is your business. I know you wouldn't harm her."
"So if it's my business, why are you asking?"
"Just curious. I know you like to dominate women sexually."
"Everybody keeps telling me that. Is it that obvious?"
"It's hard to keep it a secret when you go around spanking people, but there is something about you. It's not obvious to the casual observer, but women who like being dominated pick up on it pretty quickly. Anyway, I assume Karen is in for a spanking if she continues seeing you. Just don't do it around Daryl."
"No shit! But I'm curious, too. You seem more interested in whether I'm spanking Karen than whether I'm sleeping with her. Do I detect some prurient interest here?"
"You might."
"And what might be the nature of that interest? Are you interested in giving Karen a spanking yourself, or are you imagining yourself in her place?"
"The second choice definitely has more appeal. My turn. Why do you ask? What have you got in mind for me this evening?"
"I'd like to take you home with me, tie you up and spank you REAL hard for being so nosy and then fuck your brains out; but I won't."
"I suppose it's just as well. That would probably be more excitement than I could stand in one evening."
We'd been in the restaurant for some time at this point. The staff was starting to set chairs on top of the tables around us to clean up. Our waitress came by about every sixty seconds to ask if there would be anything else. We finally took the hint.
We pulled into Helen's driveway. I turned off the engine and turned toward her. "I've changed my mind."
"Oh?"
"Yes." I clutched the back of her collar and pulled her across my lap and flipped up her skirt. "You're a meddlesome wench after all, Helen," I said smacking her sharply on the butt.
"Ow. Bob, you turkey. OWW! That hurt."
"It's a spanking, Helen."
I gave her a few more swats and let her up, then walked her to her door. "Thank you, Helen. I enjoyed the evening immensely. I hope you'll forgive my little outburst of a moment ago."
"It's been fun, even the last few minutes. You're leaving? What happened to the 'tie me up and fuck my brains out' part?"
"Sorry, haven't changed my mind about that yet."
"Story of my life."
Sunday morning. Time for a bit of introspection. Here I was with 3 different women who had indicated a desire to have sex with me. So far I'd spanked two of them, kissed one, and slept with... none? I've already stated my feelings about sex without bondage, but bondage without sex? Perhaps Helen was right. Maybe I was a little more lost than I thought. For a brief moment I considered therapy, but that insanity passed. I had even less confidence in therapists than I did in fortune tellers. (Recently, a student at a local high school had blown the door off his locker with an M-80 (a very large firecracker in case you're not familiar with them). No one was injured. The school was inundated with therapists wanting to counsel the 'victims' of the 'tragedy'. Here indeed was a pack of charlatans. The only 'victims' were those afflicted with therapy.)
Once I took the problem apart, it didn't seem quite so crazy. Helen was right about Rebecca. I wasn't really interested, although if she wanted to continue to play games I intended to see to it that we played my game by my rules. Helen I liked as a friend. I wouldn't mind having sex with her sometime but right now Karen was the one I had the hots for. As far as Karen was concerned, I still thought my long game approach was valid, although I had plans for her in the near future. And then there was the hapless Sharon. So far I had made her dress up in a silly outfit and collar, clean the house in high heels, stand in a corner and tied her hands behind her. What was next? I hadn't decided yet. Why was I doing this? I enjoyed toying with her, having control over her. This worried me a bit when I thought about it, so I didn't think about it. It was as if I was watching myself from a distance, curious to see what affliction would next be visited on the hapless Sharon. Of course she could avoid all this silliness by doing a proper job of cleaning the house, but then she wouldn't be the hapless Sharon.
Friday evening. Another date with Karen. The week had dragged slowly by. I had half expected to hear from Rebecca but so far not a peep. Fine with me. Karen and I had a nice evening out. We made plans to go to the art museum on Sunday. I took her home and kissed her good night, once again declining her invitation to come in for coffee.
Saturday. The hapless Sharon arrived not quite so early as last time. She was all atwitter over her previous experience. I would have thought she'd be over it by now, but I suppose being here had reignited her feelings.
"I was really mad when you made me stand in the corner last time, but then I thought that well, I hadn't done a very good job so maybe you were right to do something to make me focus on it but then when you tied my hands I was really scared, I thought you were going to do something to me but you didn't and standing there being punished with my hands tied and my nose against the wall made me feel all sort of squishy inside so I hope you won't punish me anymore since it makes me have these mixed up feelings but if you do I don't suppose there isn't anything I can do about it, is there."
"Sharon, you can leave any time you wish. You don't have to stand in the corner if you don't want to, but if you ever leave with the house not cleaned or before completing a penalty you may not come back. Do you understand?"
"Oh, yes sir, I understand. I like coming here and I want to do a good job but there's just so much to remember and so many places to clean that sometimes I just lose track of it all."
"I may be having guests tomorrow so I want you to do an extra good job. Now please proceed."
"Yes, sir. Right away."
"Sharon, come back here. Didn't I tell you that you weren't allowed out of the entry hall until I had locked you in your collar."
"I'm sorry, I forgot. It's just that I was in a hurry to get started since you needed the house extra clean and..."
"Sharon, there's a price to pay if you break the rules. For the rest of the day you are not allowed to speak."
"But..."
"Hush, not a word. You are not to speak another word in this house today. Pretend you're gagged. As I said, you can leave if you like. Otherwise, come over here so I can put your collar on you." The hapless Sharon approached me and I locked her in her collar. "Fine. Now, on with it."
Sharon headed off to her chores. About 45 minutes later she was back.
"Do you want me to wax the kitchen floor? I did it last time so it probably doesn't need it but if you're having guests maybe... Oh, I forgot, but how am I supposed to ask if I can't talk?"
"Use sign language, write a note, any of the things you would have to do if you were really gagged. Since once again you're not doing such a good job of pretending we'll have to once again resort to reality. Open your mouth. Wider." I stuffed a ball gag into the hapless Sharon's mouth and buckled it behind her head, adding a small padlock. "Sharon, if you choose to stay here you're going to spend the day gagged. Would you rather go home?" The hapless Sharon hesitated a moment then shook her head. "So you're going to stay?" She nodded. "Good. Now remember to do a good job." She scurried off to her task.
The doorbell rang. It was my son, Mark. I'd forgotten he was to be in town on business. "Hi, dad." Mark was in the house before I could stop him. Sharon was dusting in the hall. She took one look at Mark and fled toward the back of the house. Mark just stood there, his jaw hanging nearly to his navel. I was afraid it was going to require surgery to get it back in place. Jesus, how was I going to deal with this? Obfuscation would be futile, denial even more so. Full speed ahead. I'd known Mark all his life. I could handle him.
"Did I see what I think I saw? Was that Sharon? Are you crazy?"
"Calm down. You're gibbering. Yes, you saw what you thought you saw. Yes, that was Sharon. No, I'm not crazy."
"So what was that? That outfit, the collar, the gag. That's not the Sharon I know. What have you been up to? Why did she run away?"
"She was running from you, not from me. You embarrassed her by gawking like that."
"I embarrassed her? I'm not surprised that she's embarrassed, but how did she get like that? What have you been doing to her?"
"Your mother was never able to get Sharon to do the job properly. I've instituted a training program to correct the problem. She takes the job much more seriously now that she dresses correctly. Sanctions are imposed when she fails to meet expectations. She's making considerable progress."
"I don't doubt that, but I think you're employing a level of coercion here that's way out of bounds."
"Did you see Sharon's car outside?"
"Yes."
"How do you think it got here?"
"I assume she drove it."
"So she brought herself here."
"Yes, but..."
"Son, she's an adult, a status for which you just barely qualify. What she voluntarily commits to is her business and none of yours. Neither her activities nor mine are subject to your scrutiny or approval."
"Maybe so, but you've got me worried. This isn't like you. I've never seen you like this before."
"And what do you hope to accomplish by worrying? Will your worry change anything? Will it make you any happier to waste time worrying?"
"No."
"Then don't. You have no understanding of the situation, neither Sharon nor I have asked for your input, and it's none of your business."
"OK. Your attitude is certainly clear. Anyway, I just stopped by to say 'hi' on my way to the airport. I'd better be going."
"It was good to see you, Mark. I'm always happy to see you, but you might want to call first before you drop in."
I was sorry to see Mark run off like that. I didn't get to see enough of him, but I had to make it clear which one of us was in charge of my life. I loved him very much, but didn't require his oversight or approval of my activities. I headed for the kitchen.
Sharon was sitting at the breakfast counter weeping. I removed her gag and held her.
"I didn't want anybody to see me like this."
"I see you like this."
"I mean anybody else. I don't mind if you see me like this... no, I do mind when you see me like this, but I can't help it, but I like it, too, but... I don't know what I mean."
I held her until she was calm and quiet. "Do you want to finish the job?"
"Yes." I led her back to the main hall and held the gag to her lips.
"Do I have to be gagged?"
"Yes, if you're going to stay."
"What if somebody else comes?"
"I won't ever let anyone in again while you're here."
"Alright." I buckled the gag in place and locked it. Sharon returned to her task.
When she finished I could only find one small flaw (cobwebs above one of the mantles again). "That's much better, Sharon. Next time let's try for 100%. Now remember not to speak until you're out of the house." I removed her collar and gag and sent her on her way.
The hapless Sharon was becoming acclimated to the fact that she would be punished if she broke the rules. Rule enforcement was about to increase.
On Sunday, Karen and I went to see the Greek silver exhibit at the art museum. It was worth the trip to see the beautiful objects fashioned by hand all those centuries ago. We ate a late lunch in the museum café then went driving aimlessly around town, just talking. We found ourselves driving through one of the older parts of town. The street we were on was lined with large older houses similar to my own. All were masonry, either stone or brick. Many had been restored, others were crumbling, all were impressive. Karen was enthralled.
"I just love these old houses. Wouldn't it be great to see inside of them."
"I think that could be arranged."
"Really?"
"Yes, I know someone here."
I parked in front of a three story stone house on a corner lot. It was just sunset and there were lights on in the house. It had an impressive set of leaded glass doors and the interior lights glittered and danced in the beveled pieces of glass as we mounted the stone steps.
"There's no one home at the moment but I can show you the house anyway." I opened the front door.
"It's unlocked?" Karen asked.
"Think about it. If someone were going rob this place, would you want them to have to break in? You can get a new VCR but they don't make doors like this anymore."
"But someone could just walk right in."
"And so we shall," I said, punching numbers into a small keypad just inside.
"But, but..."
"It's OK. I've turned off the alarm."
We stepped inside and I closed the door, resetting the alarm. We were in a small entry hall. In front of us was another set of leaded glass doors which opened into the main hall. The entry hall floor was ceramic tile with a small oriental rug in the center. On our right was a small ornate table with a burled wood framed mirror hanging above. It was obvious even from the entry hall that the house had been restored to its original splendor.
"There is one little problem before we go on inside," I told Karen. "I have to tie your hands."
"What!?"
"It's the house rule," I told her. "Women visitors are only allowed inside if their hands are tied behind them."
"You're making this up. You just want to tie me up."
"So why would I want to tie you up?"
"I don't know. Guys like to tie women up sometimes. It makes them feel superior or like they're in charge or something."
I stepped very close to her; my sport coat brushed against her breasts. "Karen, is there any doubt in your mind which one of us is in charge?", I asked, speaking softly.
"No," she replied even more softly. "No, there isn't."
"So where then is my need to tie you up."
I opened the drawer on the table under the mirror. It contained three pair of handcuffs and a couple short lengths of rope.
"Oh, my," Karen said. "What are those doing in there."
"They're provided for the convenience of guests."
"You really weren't kidding."
"No, I wasn't."
"Couldn't we just go in anyway? There's nobody home. How would they know?"
"I wouldn't want the owner to find you wandering around loose, so to speak. You don't have to go in. We can leave now if you want."
"But I really want to see the house."
"Then you'll have to be tied. Would you prefer rope or handcuffs?"
"Rope."
"Cross your wrists behind you." Karen complied and I tied her wrists snugly.
"Bob, this is so weird. Why did you bring me here?"
"You were the one who wanted to see a house. This is the only one I have access to."
"You have some very strange friends."
"Yes, I suppose I do. But then, so do they."
"Huh? Oh, I get it. Yes, they do, don't they."
"Shall we go in?" I opened the doors to the main hall. Karen gasped as we stepped inside.
"Oh, it's so beautiful!"
And so it was. The marble threshold gave way to a thick rose colored runner which extended down the hall, flanked by the dark oak flooring. Polished brass and crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling. The walls were covered with antique wallpaper above the waist high mahogany wainscoting.
On the right was a drawing room or library. There was a fireplace in the far wall under a massive mahogany mantle as wide as the room. On either side of the fireplace were bookcases with leaded glass doors. Above the mantle were stained glass windows.
On the left was the living room. Unlike the rest of the house, it had white maple flooring. Ornate plaster crown molding rimmed the ceiling. Also unlike the rest of the house, the woodwork was painted.
Karen was practically spinning in circles, trying to look at everything. She was wearing 4" heels, and with her hands tied behind her, she was tottering a bit.
"Careful," I cautioned. "You don't want to crash into anything expensive. And don't wander into any unauthorized areas."
"Unauthorized areas? What are you talking about?"
"Don't go into any private areas of the house. There's a penalty for intrusion."
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