by Sharon Brooks
Alfred had served the Simpson family for two generations, but he felt unsettled this morning because Victoria was home from college. He loved her dearly despite her legendary temper. He knew no-one would ever accuse him of being overly sentimental, but he sighed when he remembered her birth and then the horrible scene afterward. She had been a beautiful bright little girl who treated him more like an adoring uncle than a servant. Now grown up, Victoria was still a lovely person, but he suspected something troubled her. He found himself making excuses for her. Perhaps if her mother had lived, the girl would now have a softer edge. Boys had come and gone over the years, but only her father could handle her. Jack Simpson handled his daughter the way he handled his prize mares and stallions; he directed them with a firm hand.
Victoria took one last look in the mirror before heading downstairs to the dining room. She probably should wear jeans because that would make the ride back to school more comfortable. Still, some part of her insisted she wear this particular skirt along with the one frilly pair of panties she owned.
She looked at the paper from the car dealer and then stuffed it in her blouse pocket. Victoria had always been analytical; her grades reflected her ability to think systematically through problems and logically solve them. She had gone over several scenarios, and none of them ended the way she wanted. Why had she made the decision when Dad would insist she had broken his 'contract' with her? He'd be furious. Instinctively she had softened her appearance by selecting that skirt. She had loosened her hair so it fell to her shoulders, even though she rarely wore it that way anymore because it took too much time to manage. She thought about how her Dad would react. It scared her but at the same time it excited part of her. It had been so long, so very long since he had really lost his temper. She saw her cheeks flush in the mirror as she remembered. Well, she knew she couldn't avoid this confrontation because it was time to go.
The CEO of Simpson Industries loved his daughter more than anything else in his world. Where others saw an untamable wildcat, he saw a sweet, generous girl who had stepped into her mother's role while only a teenager. She now served as his hostess when he entertained. He thought about the men who came by during the summer when she was home from the university and shook his head. She was like a thoroughbred that was badly mismatched with the plow horses she had brought home. Much to Victoria's credit, these men never lasted. Someday she would take over the company, but no time soon he hoped.
Mr. Simpson knew that Victoria shared his temper as well as his light brown hair and very blue eyes. The two of them had grown closer and closer over the years. She had grown up without the civilizing influence Margaret would have had on her. What could you expect? She was a teenager who never had a role model.
The two strong personalities had battled over everything. Yelling didn't work. Pleading and trying to bribe her with new clothes or electronics didn't work either. One time his temper got the best of him and he threw the teenager who had just celebrated her eighteenth birthday over his knee, held her down with his legs, and spanked her until his hand hurt.
Victoria had struggled. She had screamed and tried to scratch him. He knew she would bite him if he released her. He had unbuckled his belt, pulled it out of his pants loops, and then began to bring the strap down hard across her jeans when she continued to fight him. Finally, she had cried, not cried but sobbed. His heart breaking, he had released her after she promised to behave. She had fled to her room with her eyes glistening with tears.
Mr. Simpson had felt terrible. What kind of father spanks a teenage daughter? He vowed never to spank her again. Still, she seemed to take great delight in pushing him and pushing him until he almost lost his temper and spanked her again.
Victoria's decision to go to the state university a full six hours drive away from home gave both of them some breathing space. She came home during Christmas and Easter vacation. She was home in the summer of course, but she worked in a different part of the plant so he never saw her much during the day.
Mr. Simpson knew Victoria was home this morning, and suspected she would follow her usual pattern and not head back to school until the afternoon. He greeted his daughter and reveled in her appearance. He had expected her to wear jeans, but she wore a white peasant blouse and a blue skirt that hung loosely around her hips. She wore lipstick and even light makeup. She came over and gave him a warm embrace and a kiss.
"You're leaving after lunch, right?"
"Yes, I have to finish a little packing and then print out a paper that's due tomorrow."
"You always did cut it close. Listen, I'll be up there next weekend for the game."
"There's a game?" Victoria smiled. It was an old joke between them.
"I don't understand it. You're so smart in other ways. I can't understand why you don't support the team. I never could convince you to try out for cheerleader."
"I've got more important things to do than throw pom poms up in the air and cheer for some Neanderthal who probably needs his fingers and toes to count to ten."
"I guess I'll never win that argument. Sit down. Arthur told me that Sarah made waffles in your honor."
Victoria started to sit down but then decided it would be easier to face him standing. She understood why one of her Dad's former managers had confided to her how much he had dreaded breaking bad news to the CEO. "He doesn't handle it very well," he had said with a grimace.
Victoria handed her Dad a piece of paper sticking out of a brochure from the local Mercedes dealer. "I put a deposit down last night. It's a great price. You can see the discount George gave me."
Mr. Simpson stared at the purchase order. He had clearly told her that she might get a new car as a graduation present but not until then.
"No way. Remember our agreement? You graduate in the top 10% and I buy you a new car. It's not the money. It's the principle. You don't welsh on an agreement. We shook hands."
Victoria felt her temper rising. She knew the terms of their agreement better than he did. She also already knew that she was set to graduate at the top of her class. A month or two wouldn't make any difference, but it would mean she would miss out on this close out special. It also meant she might lose her deposit that had come from her allowance.
Mr. Simpson's face had turned red. He folded his arms and shook his head. "No means no."
Victoria looked down at the man who normally towered over her. She knew if she couldn't have the car there was something else she wanted. She had to provoke him. It had been a few years since the last time, and she needed this and needed it badly.
"You told me to think for myself, and then you punish me when I do. You're unfair."
"I told you what our agreement was. You have to grow up. You're much too big to pout."
Victoria knew what she had to do. "You're a liar! You never said anything about graduating first!"
Now Mr. Simpson's face turned bright red. "You apologize right now! You don't call your father a liar, young lady!"
Victoria saw the vase that the head of their company's Japanese office had given her father when he visited him last summer. It was supposed to be a family heirloom that was worth a good deal of money. She walked over to the vase and lifted it.
"No!" Mr. Simpson shouted.
Victoria threw the vase against the far wall. She saw it crash and heard it shatter. She was sweating now. She felt scared when she saw her father's face, but she also felt excited.
Mr. Simpson took four long strides and reached Victoria. He put an arm around her and began dragging her towards a dining room chair.
"You wouldn't DARE!" Victoria's voice rose.
Mr. Simpson forced her over his knee and used his legs once again to lock her in place. He had never been angrier. He lifted up her skirt and saw her white panties underneath. Holding her hands down with one hand, he pulled down her panties with his other hand.
The cold air hit Victoria's bottom and she felt goose pimples form on it. She struggled against her father's rock hard leg and arm and felt completely helpless. She waited for the blow, but it didn't come right away. It was far worse anticipating it.
Victoria felt her father move around and finally realized he was removing his belt. He wore a western-style belt with a huge buckle. She thought about the buckle and shuddered. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Still, she had her pride. She would never apologize. Only her dad was man enough to control her. She felt safe with him because she knew he never would really hurt her, at least not permanently.
Whack!
Victoria felt her dad's hand explode against her bottom. She winced when she felt the sting.
"Apologize!"
"Never! You ARE a liar!"
Whack! Whack!
Mr. Simpson kept slapping her, first on one cheek and then the other. She winced and tried to break away but he kept her immobilized. Victoria began gasping for breath. She bit her lip to keep herself from crying. She would never give him the satisfaction.
Now Mr. Simpson had picked up his belt and delivered blow after blow, barely pausing between them. Victoria felt the heat on her rear and also felt something else, the growing warmth and wetness between her thighs.
She felt her tears even though she hadn't realized she was crying. The blows had stopped and it seemed very quiet.
"I'm sorry," she said.
"I'm very sorry as well."
Mr. Simpson released her. Victoria rose and pulled up her panties and then her skirt. She looked at her father for a minute without saying anything and then went to her room.
Mr. Simpson stared at the retreating figure of his daughter. The argument had taken more out of him than he realized. He felt his heart beating much too fast for his liking, and it reminded him of the last time he saw Dr. Turner. The old man had gone over him like an expensive car being appraised for sale and then sadly shook his head.
"High blood pressure and arrhythmia are not a good combination. I know you plan to live forever, but you won't live long enough to see that pretty daughter of yours married if you don't slow down," Turner said.
"You have a great bedside manner," he replied and then dressed without saying another word.
He knew he wouldn't live forever, but he did want to see Victoria settled. He realized his daughter's boyfriends seemed to come and go so fast because she was like his new stallion that only he had been able to break and tame. She required someone as strong as she was herself, someone who could tame her but not break her... because she was a thoroughbred. They were rare. His wife had been that way too.
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