Chapter 2

About a month later my affair with Alisa was going along quite smoothly. If we wanted to be alone with each other, we took turns visiting each other’s apartments.

One day after work, we were sitting in her living room, having a couple of drinks and chatting. At one point she surprised me by saying, “I remember that you told me about your ex – how she didn’t like any kinky fetishes.”

We generally avoided talking about our past marriages, but that sounded vaguely familiar. “I did say that? Could you remind me of what it was?”

“First of all, I’m not asking you just because I’m curious. I am interested in such things myself. But I’ve never done anything like that in real life either.”

“So how do you know you’d find them interesting?”

She could be quite blunt. “Because I’ve had orgasms during such fantasies. That’s pretty good evidence, wouldn’t you say?”

Then she went on, “You mentioned fantasies about what you tried to do with Sarah and that she didn’t like them. Specifically – I heard this about three weeks ago – you tried to spank her and she rejected you. Then you tried what might be called bondage I guess, and that didn’t go well either.”

I did recall those events mostly from my memory of them. My conversation with Alisa, however, must have been rather brief.

“Did I say I tied her to the bed frame and then came on her face?”

“Yep, that was it exactly. Just to add something, my ex wasn’t interested in anything kinky either. He’d say, ‘That’s just perverted,’ or something to that effect.”

“So what point are you trying to make?”

“Well, I can make your desires come true if you make mine come true too.”

“Sure, but how can we do that?”

“Do you know what a role-play is?”

She took a minute or so to explain the concept. I said, “That sounds like actors going through a rehearsal.”

“Yeah, exactly! Except, the people involved have to make up their own dialogue.”

“Improvise, in other words.”

“That’s true too. We can try a few for ourselves. If you don’t mind, to help me come up with some ideas, would you tell me some of the fantasies that you’ve had? Let’s not kid ourselves. I know you masturbated during them. I know I did during mine.”

I had many secrets that I had never told anybody about, not my friends and certainly not my ex-wife. Yet I trusted Alisa, and I went through all of the details. There were the scenarios about Sarah’s Bible camp, the girls on my college newspaper, the various female co-workers I had known.

At the end of that, Alisa asked me, “Have you ever imagined being in the hands of a dominatrix?”

“I don’t think so.”

“The reason I brought that up was that, for example, you mentioned your plot of being spanked yourself at that camp by Sarah.”

“I did have that one, yes. There was also one in a church office that we used for meetings.”

“I really like the one of you being whipped by the girl you disliked on your newspaper. Lilith, that was her name. A nice unusual touch is the other woman who photographed all that. And Martha, who blew you while you were still tied down.”

“I left out a part. I imagined that Lilith then printed the photos in our newspaper so everybody at the college knew what had happened. It was the most popular issue they ever published, and they had put out some strange stuff.”

Alisa laughed, “Wow, that’s great. That’s beyond anything I’ve ever heard before. You know that one of the key parts of such events is the humiliation involved. So, like 10,000 people saw that?”

“Alisa, I’ve never told anyone about my thoughts before.” That was before the mass introduction of the Internet, so many specialties of porn were out of the mainstream.

“Don’t feel bad. It’s probably the most common fetish of all, but no one talks about it. B-D-S-M, bondage-domination-sadism-masochism. Domination – that’s where the word ‘dominatrix’ comes from.”

Much of that was news to me, so Alisa explained some basic concepts. Then she said, “All right, now I’ll tell you my private thoughts.”

After hearing that, I said, “Do you remember wearing your green trousers in the file room?”

“Of course! I was rather explicit in fact. I said, ‘I’ve been a very bad girl and you know what to do with such girls.’”

“I guess I chickened out.”

“That’s why I immediately invited you to lunch. I knew you’d give in. I mean, we’ve both been around the block – well, a couple of times at least. We knew we liked each other from the very beginning. So give me some time to come up with a plot or two. Unless you have one of your own to suggest.”

“Not at the moment.”

“You probably will once you get into this. I admit, I’ve never done a role play either. But I’m willing to give it a try.”

She continued, “From the stories we’ve told, it’s obvious that we’re both switches.” She had explained that term during her little BDSM lecture. “How did we find each other?”

That Sunday I took Alisa for a date in New York. Towards evening, we were sitting in Washington Square Park. She described an outline of what we could do at her apartment the next weekend.

I said, “I remember one scenario I haven’t told you. It was about Sarah’s half-sister Jane. She was several years older than we were and neither one of us got along with her. The plot was that she was in the same religious cult, I’d call it, as we were. I had the authority to give her real punishment spankings.”

“Would you tell me more about them?”

“You seem to be interested in these tales.”

“Oh, yeah, I am! You have quite an active imagination.”

I was touched to hear her praise. “One time I was in her house and I took her little brown shorts off and put her over my lap. Another time she was wearing a garter and straps and old-fashioned bloomers.”

“Clothing is an important part of sexual fantasies.”

“She really could be quite arrogant and snippy. I enjoyed taking her down a few pegs. She griped and complained, but she had no choice. After her spankings, she became much more humble around me.”

“So this was you taking revenge on her, wasn’t it?”

“I guess so but – I’m only human.”

“Don’t worry about it. You didn’t imagine killing her or something. You only wanted to give her a well-deserved ass-smacking.”

“That’s one way to look at it.”

She smiled and winked at me. “So, you think you’re up for this? Do you like my ideas?”

“Sure I’m willing to give them a try.”

Alisa’s apartment was on the ground floor of a two-story house. The Saturday after the Washington Square conversation, I was standing outside the front door of her home. I had to psych myself for the role play to be done inside.

I wasn’t entirely sure what the whole event was going to be like until we got into it and went into our “acting” jobs.

It was a hot day, but I was “Steve the Tutor,” and I was wearing a sports coat and tie. The idea was that I was a school teacher who tutored various students as a side hustle.

Alisa was going to be “Allie,” a high school student. When I heard that her age was supposed to be fifteen, I was slightly shocked. She just shrugged. “That’s the way I envisioned it.”

The plot was that Allie hadn’t done the homework I had assigned, and I would eventually spank her on her bare bottom. When we talked about it the week before, we had the following exchange.

“How hard do you want me to do it?”

“I’ll let you know as we go along. To goad you into it, Allie is going to be very nasty and rude to you.” I had a hard time believing that Alisa could play it that way. “She’s pretty much going to dare you to punish her.”

We had agreed on a safe phrase, egg salad. “If she doesn’t say egg salad, just ignore whatever yells, curses, or entreaties Allie makes.”

At the end, we had tentatively planned for me to give her six whacks with the back of a hairbrush after the hand spanking. Alisa had lent me one of hers for that and I had it in my bag.

“After that, she gets corner time of course. She’s standing facing a wall while you examine what you did to her ass.”

“But this is your ass; there is no Allie.”

“Is it Marlon Brando or Stanley Kowalski, or both? I will tell you that I’m going to try to make you dislike her, quite a lot in fact. That way you’ll be eager to give her the punishment she so deserves.”

“And what happens after that?”

“Oh, you’ll like it, I can guarantee it!”

That Saturday, I knew I had to go inside to grasp all of what she had planned. Thus I rang the doorbell and a few seconds later Alisa/Allie opened the door.

The first thing she said was, “Oh fuck, it’s you. You’re kind of early, you know.”

I came up with, “I like to leave plenty of time to get somewhere.”

“Yeah, that sounds like you.”

She stepped back and I came in, closing the door behind me. I had a few moments to look her over.

My first impression was that her clothes weren’t that surprising. She had a short-sleeved white shirt. The most notable item was her skirt, which was far too short for her. Her lanky legs went down to a pair of yellow knee socks and black flat shoes.

Her hair was too short to allow for a new hairdo. Then I saw that she was chewing gum and blowing bubbles.

The longer I was with her, the more I saw that Alisa had a knack for acting and presenting herself as a high school girl. It was mostly in her body language, her tone of voice, the words she used. Her whole act was quite impressive.

I tried for something humorous. “What, no ‘hi there Steve?’”

She scrunched up her face and tilted her head in a way that signaled, So what, who cares?

Then she turned around and walked into the living room. As I followed her, she sat down on the sofa. That was when we were going to enact our little comedy-drama, and I sat down to her right. I noticed that she had no papers or other school items on hand.

I opened my book bag. Inside there was a history book about World War II that I had purchased for college and a geography book mostly with maps that I had since I was a kid.

I started with, “So, Allie, could I see the assignments I gave you last week?”

“I haven’t done them yet.”

“Well, why not?”

“They weren’t official school work, so there’s no rush.”

“You were supposed to write an essay about the origins of the Third Reich, remember?” That must have somehow connected with one of the books I had taken out, which was Albert Speer’s Inside the Third Reich.

“Man that was so long ago, I mean the German thing. It doesn’t interest me in the slightest.”

“Your parents are paying me to help you get your grades up.”

“Go ahead, tell them about me, I’m not worried.” Then she blew another gum bubble.

I decided to try to rattle her a bit. “Allie, please take that gum out of your mouth.”

She sounded peeved, “Oh, if you insist.” Then she took it out of her mouth and stuck the wad onto the top of her own side table.

When she turned back towards me, she started her first provocation. She put her right foot up on the sofa cushion while the other one stayed on the floor. Then she splayed her limbs.

There was a perfect view of the crotch of her white panties. She didn’t look directly at me but instead fiddled with her hair. In a few seconds, she said, “Hey you, keep your eyes to yourself. Don’t go looking up under my skirt.”

I improvised what I thought was a good response. “It would help if you didn’t display yourself that way.”

“I’ll sit any damn way I please.”

I decided to up the ante a bit. “You do have very cute panties.”

Allie showed her anger at me. She put her right leg down, leaned towards me, and wagged her finger at me. “How dare you say that to me! You’re a fucking pedophile pervert, you know that? I bet you masturbate all the time thinking about me.”

“Well, who do you think about while masturbating?” I was amazed that I could imagine saying something like that to a high school girl.

“That’s none of your damn business. You really disgust me in fact.”

Then she got a look on her face that I would describe as a sneering type of smile. “I bet that’s all the sex you get. I mean Steve, have you ever been laid with your shoes off?” That sounded familiar and I laughed at her statement. “In fact, have you ever been laid at all?”

I tried to defend myself. “I do have a couple of ladies I date regularly.”

“Bullshit! You are the kind of scum who hangs around outside schoolyards and hopes to get a glimpse of girls’ drawers. Then you go behind the trees to jerk off. You’re a peeping Tom as well as a pedophile.”

“That’s very creative, but you just made that up all of that.” I was thinking, Alisa is very good in the way she’s playing this.

By now she was glaring at me. As she continued to wag a finger at me, she said, “Mister, you better not try to touch me, that’s for sure. I’ll give you a swift kick in the nuts if you do.”

“I’ve never touched you in all the time I’ve known you.” I wondered how long that had been. We had never mentioned that little detail.

There was another detail that Allie then demonstrated for me. Without warning, she lifted her right leg and nudged her black shoe into my crotch. It wasn’t too hard, but I made a sound like “oomph” and I bent forward. Yeah, testicles are a very sensitive spot, and I had an ache from what she had done. It was similar to when I had been hit in that area by a softball I had missed catching.

Allie continued her rant, “Maybe you’re a fag. You like big dicks shoved up your ass. You’re probably the bitch for some motorcycle gang who passes you around like yesterday’s newspaper. And you love it.”

My next gambit was to try and normalize the situation. “All right, you’ve made your points, could we please get back to my lesson plan?”

“No, I already said that I don’t care today.” She then got a wicked smile on her face. “If you don’t leave now, I’ll tell my parents that you tried to molest me. I had to kick you in the balls to stop you.”

“That’s a lie!”

“Yeah, well who will they believe, you or me?”

Then she crooked a finger to get me to come closer. I was baffled by that. Then she used a backhanded slap across my face, followed by another in the opposite direction. Unlike her kick, she used a lot of force for those strikes.

As I rubbed my sore face, she said, “That’s just a sample of what I’ll do if you get fresh with me.” I didn’t have a response to that, but she had another line. “You just think of me as a sex object, a set of holes to be penetrated by your pathetic little cock.”

I thought she had just accused me of being gay. Despite my sore face and balls, I found that amusing. Yet, as promised, I was truly beginning to dislike her.

Allie got to her feet and stood in front of me. She was very loud now. “I’m tired of looking at you. Get out of my house, right now.” Then she made a move to slap me again, but I deflected her swing with my hand.

That didn’t stop her, and she grabbed my jacket and tried to pull me up. I was struck by how strong she was. She was obviously very angry, while I thought I had done nothing wrong. Then she leaned forward and spit into my face. It had never had that happen to me before, and it was worse than any verbal insult I could imagine.

It was time for some drastic action. “Allie, you really are quite a brat, or should I say bitch? You need some tough discipline.”