Chapter 5: Nora Gets Submissive and Also Gets Her Car

In August Nora asked me to meet her in a park near her Maspeth house, something we had never done before.

I was sitting on a bench when she came up and stood in front of me. Her outfit was surprising; she had a white blouse, a dark blue skirt that went below her knees, white ankle socks, and brown shoes. She said nothing, so I just looked her over. Her hands were folded in front of her.

Finally, I said, “What are you supposed to be, a Mormon?”

She looked down as if embarrassed, and said in a subdued voice, “You see, I’ve been a bad girl for too long and now I think I should be a good girl.”

“So you think dressing differently will make a difference?”

“There has to be more than that. I need somebody to take me in hand, and, I’d say, firmly correct me for my unseemly behavior.”

Now I got what her game was. She was making up nonsense, but she was good at it. “Maybe you need a maintenance spanking again, so you don’t slip back into your old ways.”

“That is an excellent idea.”

“Well, I’m your go-to guy for that.”

She had it all thought out. “What you should do is – we’ll go home. Then, put me over your knees and spank me on the seat of my underwear. Then take those down, and give me a good tanning on my exposed behind.”

She was using a weirdly formal syntax. I saw none of her usual brashness. Anyway, I jumped up and said, “Okay honey, let’s get to it.” This is going to be a lot of fun.

I tried to hold her hand on the way over, but she refused to give it to me. Once in the living room, she said “Sit in that chair. You don’t have to pull me over; I’ll willingly place myself on you.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

The chair was armless, which made it ideal for what I was going to do. She positioned herself on my lap; her movements seemed slow and deliberate. I thought she’d raise her own skirt, but she didn’t. I guessed that was my job.

I pulled her skirt up and away, and I was surprised by her underpants. These were white cotton ones that almost reached her knees, and there were lacy hems at the bottom.

“Where did you get these, at Sears?”

“They’re called pantaloons, and they should be worn by girls like me who aspire to be modest.”

I just love the way this chick is talking. “So, I assume you want it good and hard and long?”

“That’s the only way it can be effective.”

“Indeed.”

I was getting to like this pantaloon thing, and I started rubbing the seat of her underwear.

“Please, don’t rub my buttocks.”

That was a surprise because by now I had rubbed, fondled, and ejaculated onto every part of her body I had access to, which was all of it. She must have sensed my confusion because she said, “You may only use your hands to inflict pain on me, not give me pleasure.”

I almost said, fuck that. Instead I decided to remind her of our safe word, or phrase really, although she could take a lot of punishment and had never used it. “Do you think you’ll want to have some tuna salad during this?”

“I refuse to eat that.”

“Okay, let’s do this.” I started whacking her on the back of her, ah, pantaloons. She did her usually groaning, wincing, and wriggling around.

At one point she said, “This hurts so much, but I really need it.”

Now I was getting curious, so I stopped. “Nora, baby, what exactly has been on your mind?”

“I must tell you, last night I had the urge to masturbate, and I caught my fingers reaching for my private parts. It was so ashamed of myself.” That was notable because Nora would masturbate on a bus if she could get away with it. I had seen her do just that in the back seat of an Academy Lines bus when we visited her aunt in New Jersey.

She was in the end seat when she put her feet up on the cushion, lifted her skirt, put a hand inside her panties, and had her way with herself. I was in a center seat watching all of this.

I was suddenly concerned that she would keep up this pretense all day. How was I going to get laid then?

I redoubled my efforts on her. There was a slit in the back of her pantaloons, and I opened it to get access to the bare flesh of her behind. The whole thing had a very nineteenth-century feel to it.

“Wow, that cotton didn’t give you any protection at all; you’re all red now.”

“I know; I’m actually proud to be disciplined so firmly.”

Where was she getting this bullshit from? I said, “All right then, get your butt up nice and high then.” I went at her until I thought we both had had enough. She had moaned and gasped, but she didn’t start crying. I guess I’m not such a nice guy after all; I had wanted to break her at times so that she would sob, but I had never been able to do it.

She one point she said, “Oh, it’s so humiliating to have to expose my buttocks to you.”

What is it with this “buttocks” thing? She seemed to enjoy saying the word.

Besides, not only had I seen her behind before, I had come on it a number of times. One of her gimmicks was that she would pull down my pants, turn around, lift up her skirt, and then grind her ass into my crotch until I ejaculated all over her. Sometimes she would leave her panties on; sometimes she would take them off. It depended I guess on the riskiness of the location

If we had the opportunity, I would then reward her by eating out her cunt, which she loved. One of the places where we had pulled this stunt was on the highest floor of Finley Hall, where there was a big open tank full of scummy green water.

Another variation was that I would keep my trousers up and she would try to get me to come into my pants. She always succeeded in those efforts.

She then had another issue, “Also, you can see my private parts now.”

Actually, I couldn’t; I hadn’t opened her underwear enough. However, I thought of a good excuse to do that.

“Sweetie, I’m going to pull your pants all the way done. I need to redden the back of your thighs too.”

She went for it. “Yes, I fully understand. Please do that; I’ve been so naughty.”

I thought, you’ve been more than naughty. You’ve fucked my brains out, but I’m completely down with that. She had also worked as a whore, but I had forgiven her for that.

At the end of the spanking, I said, “Go ahead, you can comfort yourself now.” She reached back to grab herself.

“My God, I’m blazing back there.”

“That’s to be expected.” I was curious about how turned on she was, so I put my numb hand between her legs to find out.

“No, absolutely do not touch my private parts.”

I put my hands up, “Whatever you say. It is corner time, you know.”

She dutiful went over to the wall and stood there holding her skirt up. I knew it was all an act, but I was still trying to understand the motivations of her character. “Nora, what has gotten into you?”

“I want to act like a virgin again.”

“Well, that went out the window a while ago.”

“I said act like one, not actually be one. My lusts and desires need to be suppressed.”

I couldn’t take it any longer. “I’m getting a beer; you want one?”

“No, I do not.”

When I came back I said, “Okay, corner time is over.” She carefully pulled up her pantaloons and lowered her skirt. Then came over and stood in front of where I was sitting. She had that strange half-shy, half-haughty look I had seen in the park.

“When you’re finished with your beer, it’s time for you to go.”

“What? I just got here.” It had taken me an hour and a half by public transit to get to Maspeth.

“It’s not proper for a young lady to be alone and unchaperoned here with you.”

“What are you talking about? I just did all of this slapping of your bare buttocks, as you called them.”