My Summer with Nora

Nora reveals her dominant side to her college boyfriend Paul, and she makes up a pretext to give him a sound paddling on his backside. He likes it more than he had expected, but what happens next is not what he was hoping for. Nora did some dominatrix gigs during her hooking career, so she knows how to handle this event.

This is taking place in September 1974. The "Mormon girl" story is in

Chapter 04

, "Nora Gets Submissive." Maspeth is Nora's neighborhood in southwest Queens.

The references to prostitution are about her stint as an ad hoc, part-time hooker during the previous two semesters. See

Freshman Hooker

and

Nora Turns a Trick

.

-------

One day in late September, I made one of my trips out to Maspeth to visit Nora at her house. I was surprised by her appearance when she opened the door.

She was wearing her business outfit: a gray suit with a tight skirt, tan nylon stockings, and black medium-heeled shoes. I had seen those clothes before during her first visit to my college newspaper,

The Salient.

By this time she had her new brush-cut hairdo for her dark blonde hair. She was also wearing her usual steel-rimmed glasses.

Her most noticeable accessory was the wooden object she was holding in her right hand. I could see that it was a paddle.

Now, who would she use that on?

I seemed to be the only possible candidate around. I had never seen her dominant side in action, but that was my first indication that I would find out a lot about it on that day.

"Oh, hi Nora."

"It's Miss Meara if you please." I knew that dominatrices sometimes used "Miss" when referring to themselves, but I figured I'd go along with whatever ploy she had created for me. She obviously was playing a game, but I didn't know the exact details of it yet. I had previously only experienced her in her submissive mode in which I was the one spanking her.

At least I didn't have to call her "mistress." She had told me once that the word didn't seem egalitarian enough for her tastes. The way she saw it, the men she had dominated were not her slaves but merely naughty boys who needed to be firmly corrected by a stern lady and put on the right path.

We went into the living room and she sat on the couch. I was just about to sit next to her when she said, "Oh no, just stand right there."

She crossed her legs and I thought,

God, she looks great today; she should get dressed up more often.

Then she touched a substantial wooden hairbrush on a side table. "This, and my paddle, are the two implements I have available for me today. And, obviously, I going to use them on you."

I had put my hands into my pockets. "Get your hands out of your pockets when I'm speaking to you." I didn't have much choice but to fold them in front of me.

"So, Nora..."

"It's Miss Meara, remember?"

"Okay, Miss Meara..."

"Let me speak, if you would." When she had my attention, she continued, "Paul, I have a very serious issue with you. And today I'm going to deal with it quite firmly and thoroughly."

It was impressive how she usually adjusted her speaking patterns to whatever plan she had going. She was a better actress than I had originally thought last spring.

"All right, Miss Meara, and what is that issue?"

"Let me explain in some detail. It has to do with our fellow female staffers on

The Salient.

" I had invited her to join the paper with me a few weeks earlier. "I have noticed that your eyes are all over them. In fact, I know you use them for your sick masturbation fantasies."

Perhaps he had a point. There had been six such staffers during the previous semester, and now there was a seventh. The new one was a tall, very nice-looking dark-haired girl named Linda. So I had indeed used all of them for fantasy material, but especially Linda since she had a taste for cute black or gray knee socks.

I tried a push-back to see what would happen. Nora was using bullshit on me, so I tried it with her. "That's not true, Miss Meara, I only think of you. I'm loyal to you in thought as well as deed." That wasn't a bad line, albeit a bit overblown.

"Oh please, how naïve do you think I am?"

I tried for a limited hangout. "Well, how about Lilith? I don't like her and she doesn't like me." Lilith was a very intense and rather humorless senior who was our news editor.

"That doesn't matter; you still want to possess her physically." That was indeed true. I had fantasized about taking her on the newspaper office table, but I had forgotten that I had told Nora about that. She hadn't forgotten, however, and she remembered all the details.

"You told me once that you wanted to give her an over-your-knees spanking on her bare behind, and then have her screw you with her on top -- straddling you I mean on that table in

The Salient

office. By the way, I notice that she doesn't always shave under her armpits."

"Well, that doesn't bother me. Does it bother you?"

"I think it makes her look a bit unkempt, but I don't really care one way or the other. The point is that you may not like her but you lust after her anyway. And then there's that new Linda tart. You obviously like her knee socks; I'm sure you've imagined lifting her skirt up, pulling off her panties, and copulating with her standing up against a desk."

Actually, my fantasy had been with her on the couch, but basically, Nora was correct.

Copulating;

I never heard her use that word before.

A counter-strike occurred to me. "Besides, I'm sure you've also indulged in an occasional imaginary fling with somebody."

"Absolutely not." She basically repeated my own lines back to me. "I'm completely loyal to you, in my heart and mind as well as with my body."

A woman of heart and mind,

as Joni Mitchell had put it. In any case, I didn't believe her.

But who would she use as her fantasy lover? I doubted it was any of the male staffers. Maybe it would be Professor Raskin, the English professor who taught a course about vampires and other figures of evil and horror in literature.

I had taken his course the previous semester. With his bushy hair and mustache, he was relatively young and rather hot for a professor. And I also knew he had had an affair with a student.

Somehow, I could imagine whatever Nora might have considered doing with this erudite but somewhat eccentric teacher. It was sort of one fantasy (the one I imagined her having) inside of another one (my own). He'd have dropped his pants inside his office in Wagner Hall, and Nora would be sitting on his desk with her skirt up and her legs splayed. She cried out in pleasure as he nailed her on the desktop.

It was weird, but now I had a pang of jealousy regarding this scene that

I myself had made up. But Nora quickly interrupted my musings.

"If you are wondering how I'm going to correct your misbehavior, then I will tell you." She leaned forward on the sofa and explained it to me. "Paul, it's a simple but effective way to deal with wayward boyfriends such as yourself. It's called corporal punishment if you must know."

"I haven't been wayward at all, not in reality anyway."

"But you would be if you had the chance. That's why I have to nip this in the bud before you get your dick into one of our journalistic colleagues."

Nip this in the bud;

that struck me as funny. For a second I pondered myself, and I knew that I would never approach any of my fantasy partners even though they were on the paper with me. I would never cheat on Nora; that wasn't the kind of guy I was. But I realized again that this was her made-up pretext.

Even though I already knew what was coming, I suddenly wasn't that keen on the whole idea. I had never been spanked by anybody before, much less Nora. I rather lamely said, "You're kidding me right?"

"I'm definitely not, and I'm going to tell you exactly how it's going to go. First, you're going to get on the floor, on your hands and knees. You're going to push your behind up and present it to me for your discipline."

I was struck by the oddly formal and precise language she was using. She went on, "Next, I'm going to sit here and paddle you on your backside. At the beginning, you're getting it on the seat of your trousers. They look kind of light-weight, and I'm sure they won't give much protection for your sorry little rear-end."

I knew that the word "little" was a reference to my relatively slender build. I suddenly felt a twitching in my buttocks, and it seemed to be a mix of both fear and anticipation.

Just how kinky am I?

I remembered telling Nora more than once that I found it intriguing to picture myself being punished by a woman.

I guess I'm about to find out what it's like.

Nora said "I've noticed that you can dish out spankings to me, but you haven't received any yourself. That's rather unfair, wouldn't you say?" She was right about that.

It was interesting to see her formerly hidden dominant side emerge. Other guys had seen it when she had done amateur dominatrix gigs, but I never experienced it myself. I said, "You've never mentioned this aspect of yourself before." I knew that wasn't true.

"Absolutely wrong! I've definitely discussed my customers with you." I remembered her saying once that being a dominatrix was about the only satisfying aspect of being a prostitute. She smiled at me, "So I surely know how to do this correctly. And, hey, you're getting it all for free!"

How thoughtful of her.

She continued her description. "After some of that on your trousers, you are going to take down your pants. No, let me amend that. I'm going to take them down for you. That's the proper kind of humiliation for naughty boys like you." She had always been quite imaginative when it came to sexual matters.

"And then you're going down again and I'm going to vigorously apply my implement to your bare buttocks. Finally, you are going over my lap, and I'm going to firmly beat you with this nice, big hairbrush to finish you off."

I was noticing stirrings not just in my behind, but in my cock too at this prospect. It occurred to me that I might like this after all.

And I liked the way she looked too. Her dominatrix model was not the black leather kind. Rather she had the appearance of a strict teacher or manager -- or, in this case, a strict girlfriend.

I protested anyway, "What if I don't like being spanked?"

"Then there are always the safe words we've used, 'tuna salad.' However, knowing what a twisted little mother-fucker you are, I suspect that you will like it after all."

"How could you possibly know that?"

"Sweetie, you know I've been with a lot of guys in my former line of work. After a while, I can practically sniff out what they're thinking. And you, my friend, I'm sure that you are a switch. In other words, you have both sadistic and masochistic tendencies."

That was an impressive bit of psychology. I tried one last gambit, "Miss Meara, this whole thing of me looking at other women, fantasizing about them, it's just an excuse, a pretext, and you know it."

She could be very firm, even if she was faking it. "Well, I don't think it's a pretext."

She had one more thing for me. "Be a man about it, take your punishment like a big boy. Don't be a pussy about it. And don't you dare use the safe words unless it's truly dire."

How dire?

That was more than a bit vague. Then she smirked, "If you don't get a big erection from this, I'll be quite surprised."

"And how much of this am I getting?"

"I don't know yet, that's for me to decide. You'll get as much as I deem necessary. Now, get down and prepare yourself. Get your ass up nice and high so I have a good target."

I guess I could have simply left the house at that point. What was she going to do, break up with me? Maybe her appeal to my manly pride got to me.

This chick isn't going to intimidate me.

On one level I was rather annoyed by her and yet, underneath, I was excited by her proposal too.

I got into position on the floor as she had instructed, and I raised my ass. I was right in front of her as she sat on the sofa. "Go ahead, Miss Meara, let's see what you can do."

"Getting impertinent, are you? Oh, you're not just going to see it; you're really going to feel it too."

She moved forward on the sofa to get closer, then she gently rubbed her paddle on the seat of my pants. She moved it up and down, and from side to side.

"How does that feel? Pretty nice, right?"

I tried to remain nonchalant about it, even though I was already getting an erection from the mere feel of the wood sliding on my body. "Yeah, it's okay I'd say."

"All right, try this one." Without any further warning, she raised her implement and brought it down on me. I felt the impact and heard the thwack of it connecting with my backside. She was right; my pants didn't protect me at all. I cried out and fell forward. I didn't go all the way down, but Nora commented on it.

"Come on Paul, you can do better than that."

I said the obvious thing, "But it hurts." Yet my erection didn't disappear. If anything it became more intense.

"Of course, it's supposed to hurt." I didn't know it then, but I didn't realize how trite what she said had been. "Steady yourself; you know what to expect now."

I suppose I did better with the next strokes, but I still made noises and wriggled around. I didn't nearly collapse with those, and she didn't chide me for my sounds or movements. I lost count, but I think she gave me at least six on each cheek.

"There, you're doing much better now. You're actually making me proud of you." That was a strange thing for her to say, and yet I understood what she was getting at.

Then she stopped, and she felt my backside with her hand. "This must be working; I can feel how hot your butt is now." Her touching of my rear end seemed very affectionate, and I thought,

Nora, you can be a bitch at times but I love you anyway.

"Come on, stand up so I can unbuckle your pants. It's time for some wood on the bare flesh. And put your hands on top of your head."

As I stood in front of her she noticed the state I was in, and she said, "You are indeed a sick little fucker. You've got a huge bulge in your crotch."

"Maybe I'm as surprised as you are." I remembered, although I didn't mention it, how wet her pussy had gotten the first time I had spanked her a few months earlier. She too claimed to be surprised by her arousal.

"Well, if you like it so much, there are more good things to come." When I had my pants down below my knees, she noticed more about my erection right away. "My, you do have a huge boner."

The better to fuck you with, my dear,

assuming she was going to let me do that to her later.

"I couldn't help it; it just sort of went up on its own."

"I've seen lots of guys get stiff during their discipline. The buttocks are an erogenous zone, as you must know. Blood is flowing into your ass as you get beaten, and that in turn affects your cock and balls, thus causing sexual arousal."

"You have a very good grasp of anatomy," and she laughed at my comment. I thought,

the back of my hips got quite sore but it feels surprisingly good in the front.

"All right, darling, get back into position. And get that ass up good and high as it was before."

When I was back on the floor, I knew she was now assessing my now bare backside. "I can see the marks the paddle made even though you were wearing pants. It's already quite impressive." I didn't comment on it, but I could feel the heat radiating from my flesh.

I glanced over at her, and I saw that her legs were splayed apart. I was low enough to the floor that I could look under her skirt and see up to her crotch. Her underthings were intriguing. She had a black garter and straps to hold up her stockings, plus sheer black panties that were virtually transparent. Her pubic hair was clearly visible through them.

She's obviously showing herself off to me.

I commented, "Nice retro underwear you've got. I suppose later I'll get an even better look."

"Oh no, not today you're not."

"Miss Meara, you know how it goes. If I take my discipline well, then I deserve a treat." By "treat" I meant the kind of vigorous sex I had given

her

that first time she had been turned on by such activities. I had taken her from behind on the college newspaper couch.

"You must be delusional; that definitely not going to happen for you today. Now, let's get to the main act already."

I felt angry about her refusal of sex later, but I decided not to argue with her. She might change her mind at the end. She raised her paddle again and she hit me with it about every two or three seconds. I grunted loudly with each stroke. Tears were coming out of my eyes, but yet I was still quite aroused.

Nora noticed my condition. "I see you're still erect. You must be one of those real hard-core cases."

Then she stopped for a moment to chide me, or actually to lecture me. I already knew that these little speeches were an important part of a dominatrix's work. "So no more looking at other girls, no more jerking-off about Lilith or Linda or Martha or those other journalistic twats with their eager pussies."

"So you think they are eager for me. It would be partially their fault then."

"You're twisting my words. It was a mere figure of speech."

I then realized that she couldn't possibly know what I was thinking and doing twenty-four hours per day. There was no point in mentioning that, because Nora already knew was it all just a game and an excuse to tan my backside. It perhaps wasn't the best pretext she could invent but that paddle felt real enough.

If she was even the slightest bit serious about her jealousy regarding those other women, I could just make a show of looking innocent in the office. I wasn't sure how I'd do that since I already wasn't openly gazing at my female colleagues.

Nora went back to her paddling task. I started to complain even though I was half-enjoying it, "Come on Miss Meara, haven't I had enough already?"

"Just a little more with the paddle, and then we'll have it."

After about three more she said, "Okay, you may get up and comfort yourself." I didn't need any further encouragement. I got up on my knees and grabbed my own ass. It didn't help much to rub it, but it was better than nothing.

"Take your hands away, I want to see what I've done to you." She looked and said, "My, that's a well-beaten pair of male buttocks. You're all red, and you have bruises around the edges." I tried to look back at myself, and she put a finger on me to feel the damage.

"Jesus, be careful, it's pretty tender back there."

"Well, it should be sore; that's what I intended. So, it's time to get over my lap and take the hairbrush now. Don't worry, there will only be a little of that. All right, get over my knees and keep your feet on the floor."

When I got over her lap, I liked the feel of my bare crotch pressed against the cloth of her skirt. She gave me about eight whacks of the hairbrush, and I yelped each time it connected to my rear end.

Yet I still squirmed around, and my cock slid pleasurably on her gray suit. She had told me that at least one of her customers had ejaculated while being spanked over her lap. I wondered if I was capable of such a feat myself, but I wasn't going to find out on that day.

Nora commented on the last three hairbrush strokes, "You need a few on the backs of the thighs to even out the coloring on your hindquarters. Now it's more sensitive on those, so be prepared." Perhaps she did have a bit of compassion for me after all.

Then she stopped and assessed my condition. "Maybe that's enough; I'm going over the same places I've hit before. The heat is just radiating off of you." Then she gently rubbed my behind again which felt better than I might have expected.