Nora's Punishment

This story has been lightly edited so the plot aligns with the new series I'm writing about her. For example, her new boyfriend Paul is referred to here but not by name. This is the only chapter that is from the point of view of her uncle. It seems to fit in between the future Chapters 2 and 3.

Her punishment here is quite intense. However, as indicated in Chapter 1 and also in this chapter, she finds spanking to be painful yet exciting too. In a later chapter, her dominatrix side will emerge.

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I had trouble with my niece Nora as soon since I took her in to live with me in the summer of 1973. She was my sister's child. I'm not going to go into the details of what happened in our family that caused her to need a new home.

I was fifty-three-years-old, a widower and I had worked as a carpenter all of my life. I had an old but roomy house in Maspeth, Queens, New York. My own two children were on their own by 1971.

Nora was nineteen years old; she was about five-foot-seven with lanky dark-blonde hair and she wore steel-rimmed glasses. She was slender but not too willowy; she had long, strong legs which she liked to show off by wearing short skirts or shorts. She was a very attractive young lady but she could be very abrasive and off-putting. Sometimes she seemed quite morose and she would mope around a lot.

She's become such an arrogant little twat recently. I wondered if I ever really liked her as a person; she had been mouthy as far back as I could remember. I felt uncomfortable for having such negative thoughts about this girl I had been trying so hard to raise properly. But I was still responsible for her and often I had to face some difficult truths.

One day when she was out I did something that I shouldn't have but my curiosity and my suspicions got to me. I knew it was wrong to snoop around and violate another person's privacy. My justification was that I was gathering information that would ultimately help Nora.

What I did was search her room when she was out. I wasn't sure what I was looking for but I indeed found it anyway. I found only two joints but in the lower drawer of a chest, I came across a substantial amount of cash, most of it in small bills. I had expected that a bank passbook would be more likely as evidence. The poor little bimbo, she's too lazy or disorganized to even go out and open an account for herself.

I thought of actually counting it, but I decided against that. I couldn't even estimate the total amount. She hadn't had a paid job in the last year; in fact, she had hardly ever worked. Selling drugs was possible but it didn't seem likely. It would require more organization and people skills than she seemed to possess. Something else came to mind which would explain her frequent absences but I couldn't prove it.

One thing I had noticed was the number of men who would phone in at almost any time of the day or night and ask for her. If I answered, sometimes they would hang up, but often they left messages for her. They would sometimes confirm their phone numbers. When I asked them what they wanted, they would sometimes laugh but they would never tell me.

Then it was the early summer of 1974 and I was trying to imagine how she'd use her first summer break from the City College of New York in Manhattan. I thought that she should go to summer school or get a job during this period; that was the proper way she should behave. Instead, I had little idea of how she was filling her time. Probably she was partying, drugging and screwing, and perhaps this other activity that would pay for all of the fun times.

I knew I had to figure out something constructive for her to do in the upcoming months, whether she liked the idea or not. But then I had to suddenly deal with a more pressing issue. And I had a tactic that might work.

What happened was that one day I came home at an unexpected time and got a big surprise. A young guy was standing in the living room and Nora was on her knees giving him a blowjob.

For a moment I surveyed the scene and tried to get my wits together. This guy only had his zipper open and his cock jutted out. Nora was a bit disheveled. Her blouse was pulled up and her bra was undone; her breasts were exposed. She was wearing a skirt and I saw that her underpants were off and lying on the floor.

She saw me first and dropped the cock out of her mouth. "Oh my God, Uncle Tony!" I saw that she had hot pink lipstick, obviously applied for this particular session. She said, "What are you doing here?"

"I live here, remember?"

The dude seemed quite nonchalant and undisturbed by the interruption. He said, "Hey Uncle Tony, what's up?" Something about his attitude suggested that he wasn't a boyfriend. If he had been that, he would have been more upset and embarrassed.

I'm not a big guy, but I've been in construction for years and I was sure I could take him if I had to. I just said, "You're leaving now, you know that, right?"

He was still unconcerned as he got his pants in order. "Yeah, sure, I get it." He quickly left and I noted that he said nothing to Nora on the way out. That was a big clue.

Nora hurried to get her clothes back together. When she put her panties back on, I got a glimpse of her bare crotch. On this day he was wearing one of her hot-weather college-girl outfits, although she wasn't attending classes now of course. She had a short-sleeved, green and white blouse; it was short enough so it revealed her midriff. Her skirt was loose-fitting but short. It was cute with its blue flowery pattern. She was wearing chunky sandals with thick soles.

She threw herself onto the couch and glared at me. I sat opposite her in a chair; I got the first word in.

"Who was that guy?"

She shrugged and gave me a look of disdain. "Just a friend of mine." I noted that she did not explain where she had met him.

I pulled myself together and called her on that. "I don't think he's a friend; he's a customer. He paid you to blow him."

I could tell from her expression that I had struck a nerve, even if she tried to deny it.

"That's ridiculous; what makes you think that?" She was practically daring me to make my case.

I did just that, "First, there's the indifferent way he treated you. Then there are all those guys who call here and ask for you. And finally, there's all that money stashed in your room."

She pretended to be outraged, "Uncle Tony, you have no right to go looking around like that and invading my privacy."

I smiled at the word "privacy." She hadn't even bothered to take that guy upstairs. "Maybe, but I felt like . . ." I was going to say, I need to protect you but I suspected I would get nowhere with that. I wanted to know more, so I tried to relax and be calm as I questioned her. "How did you get into this in the first place?"

She seemed to relax too and she was quite conversational as she described the details. "When I first got to City last fall -- well, you wouldn't believe the number of frustrated, horny guys up there."

"True, I wouldn't know about that." Dating had changed a lot since I had been young.

"Yeah, even with the so-called Sexual Revolution -- that's been exaggerated. What's happened is that now girls are going for the best guys and the rest of them are -- well, they're thirsty for some; you know what they want. They're desperate."

She must have taken some psychology and sociology courses; she was quite articulate on her topic.

She went on, "So when I got there, all of these guys were flocking around me. It was quite annoying. Then it occurred to me: I could dole out some things to them in exchange for favors and gifts."

"You mean like cash."

"All right, that did happen." She seemed amused by that. "But sometimes -- I did get this guy to write a term paper for me last semester. I gave him, well, something in exchange for it."

I assumed it was a handjob or oral sex but I didn't need to know. I also didn't know that this guy had somehow become her boyfriend recently, not a mere customer.

Nora was gaining momentum with her reminiscing. "And then, believe it or not, the paper he wrote for me resulted in a C grade. A damn C!"

"And you expect me to feel sympathy for you?"

"Uncle Tony, I know, but I was in trouble. I really needed help on that course. On the mid-term, I wound up with a D. And that guy got an A and then a B on his papers." She shook her head. "I almost wish I could take it back, but I can't."

I thought, yeah, you can't repossess a blowjob like you can a TV set.

Instead, I said, "So you're just a studious little coed looking for, what - a buddy for study, is that what you'd call it?"

"Very funny." Actually, he had become more than a buddy by that point, but I hadn't met him yet.

Nora kept talking, "Jesus, Uncle, I'm not in high school now. I'm going to be dealing with guys up at the college, so that's that way it is."

"Dealing -- that's a good term actually. You're dealing with them all right; you're peddling yourself."

She stopped talking and I could see her getting impatient. She was fidgeting like she was waiting for me to finish and she would be dismissed. I was curious to know how much she got paid and so forth, but I had the info I needed. She had heedlessly confessed everything to me.

I gave us a few moments to ponder the situation. Then I said, "This is totally unacceptable."

"You have no right to tell me what to do."

"I do when it comes to what happens in this house. And I'm sure you've used it before."

She made a show of looking indifferent. I said, "You know, I could throw you out. You're nineteen, fully an adult, and yet you contribute nothing to running this place. You don't even help out with the dishes."

I think she was a bit worried by that. "Okay, okay, I won't bring them here anymore."

"It's a little too late for that. I have to take some action -- discipline you so you don't do it again."

She sneered at me, "What are you going to do, ground me?"

I had a strangely upbeat feeling, something like joy, at the anticipation of how I was going to surprise her. Also, I was going to take her bitchy attitude down a number of pegs.

I tried to be neutral as I spoke, "It's quite simple, Nora. You're going to come over here. Then you'll lie across my lap. I'll lift up your little skirt, take down your panties and give you a long, hard spanking with my bare hand on your bare behind."

I had indeed surprised her. "You can't do that. And I'm too old for a spanking." I didn't know that she was already letting her new boyfriend do that to her.

"Did your parents ever do it?"

"No, never."

"There's always a first time, and you're never too old to start. When I'm done with that, I'm going have you bend over and I'll whip your backside with my belt, a lot. I'm going to wear a new hole in your ass with that."

I saw her squirm a bit on the couch. I imagined she had a twitch in her buttocks while considering this prospect.

"You can't enforce that."

"I already told you, it's my way or the street. Or maybe you can support yourself out there with your present profession."

Under her bravado, I could tell that she was nervous. Just to emphasize the point I said, "Believe me, I'm not going to go easy on you. Afterwards it may be painful to sit down."

She said in a quiet voice, "You're such an asshole," but I let her get away with it. I knew I had won that confrontation. She folded her arms and looked around, maybe hoping this would all go away.

I said, "You're probably wondering when this is going to happen,"

"Now that you mention it, I am wondering."

"Right now would be ideal."

She made a show of looking exasperated; then she got up and walked over. I had a good setup ready for her. My chair was armless; thus she would easily fit. There was a side table to the left where she could put her hands and brace herself.

When she was next to me, I immediately grabbed her and pulled her over me. Then I flipped her skirt up. Her panties were white and of a more generous cut than I perhaps expected for a young whore. As I grabbed the waistband, she said, "Don't take down my panties."

"As I said, you're getting it on your bare ass." She made a little sound like "oh" as they came down. Her feet were on the floor and, without prompting from me, she pressed her hands against the tabletop.

Then, as I looked at her, she said, "I think you're some kind of pervert." I didn't bother to answer, but I continued to look. She had long legs and a high, compact backside. A few pubic hairs stuck up between her legs. She was not a beach goer, so she had no tan lines and her skin was quite pale. I wondered what it would look like when I was done with her.

I rolled up the sleeve on my right arm, a bit of theater to show her I meant business. "Are you ready for this?"

She tried to put some poutiness in her voice but failed, "I'm never going to be ready."

"I take that to mean yes. Make sure you steady yourself on the table. I don't want you to put your hands in my way."

I had big, strong hands that developed from the work I do. I used my left one to hold her around her waist; then I brought down my right one down twice, hard and fast, on each of her butt cheeks.

She yowled, "Uncle Tony, that really hurts. You have such hard hands."

"It's supposed to hurt." Where have I heard that before?

Then I commenced a vigorous, steady beating of her taut little behind. She made quite a fuss, yelling and wriggling her body around. Her legs waved through the air. Twice she tried to put a hand back there to protect herself, but I swatted it away. After that, she pounded the tabletop in frustration. But she didn't try to get away; I'll give her credit for that.

I stopped for some verbal abuse. "You've been a slut, a bitch, and now a whore. You deserve everything you're getting."

She was in the negotiation phase now, "Please, Uncle Tony, I'll be good from now on, I promise."

"Your promises don't mean anything. This beating may do it better."

She reached a point where she sort of gave up, although she still groaned with each stroke. I decided she had enough of this phase. "You can get up and rub your bottom if you wish."

She leaped up and grasped her buttocks. "It's just blazing back there." She tried to look back at herself. "What have you done to me?"

"I made your ass as red as a ripe cherry. But now it's time for the belt."

"No, please, I've learned my lesson. I said I'd be good."

"Too bad and too late." I got up and started to remove my belt from the loops. "Get over there by the couch." Once there, I told her what to do. "Get up there on all fours, facing sideways. Get your backside up high."

When she did that, I got a good look at her genitals, and I was surprised to see how wet she was. Fluid was dripping out of her. I shouldn't have said anything, but I blurted out "You little slut, that spanking turned you on."

"I knew it would; I've had this happen before. It does hurt a lot but it still gives me -- call it tingles." I wondered if she had discovered that from one of her customers or from her new boyfriend.

"Well, let's see how much you enjoy a good belting."

On my first hit, she yelled and collapsed flat on the cushion. "Get back up; get your ass in place." I gave her another stroke, and she collapsed again.

"We need to adjust this. Stand over here and lean over the armrest. Put your hands on the cushion and your butt up in the air." Now if she tried to move forward the couch itself would stop her. "And lose the panties; you don't need them now." She let them fall to her ankles and then she stepped out of them.

She made a lot of noise this time around too. At one point she said, "Please Uncle, I can't stand it anymore."

"Stop complaining and just take it." My idea was to cover her with belt stripes so that the earlier damage would be hidden beneath them. At one point I moved over to her other side so I could even out the marks on her. I admit I was trying to break her, to make her cry. Later I did see tears running down her face, but she didn't actually sob. Maybe she was tougher than either one of us had imagined.

She did have reactions. Sometimes she would stamp her feet, or one leg would bend and come up. Once she sagged, and I had to pull her back up. Then I saw her legs quivering and I knew I was really hurting her.

"Okay, that's enough with the belt I think." She lay on the armrest and put her head down on the cushion. She was breathing heavily. For a moment I felt sorry for her, but then I realized this had to be done or she'd be completely out of control.

Then I again saw that her cunt was dripping wet. So this girl likes a firm belting too.

"All right, get up, it's corner time." When she was upright she tried to comfort her bottom again but it was too sore to touch. She only rubbed the unmarked places on the sides of her hips.

She must have gotten some focus back, because she asked, "What do you want me to do?"

"You are going to stand by the wall and hold your skirt up. Then I'm going to sit in my chair and admire my handiwork."

I heard her softly say, "This is so fucked up."

I ignored that, "As I said, and as you probably have already deduced, it's going to be painful for you to sit down for a while, like several days."

She glared at me with a look that combined anger and fear, but she did as I had requested. I went back to my chair. "Honey, bend over more so I have a better view." I expected some sass back but she seemed to have run out of that. I saw that her genitals were still wet but I didn't feel comfortable commenting on that.

Then, as I sat there, I realized something was missing. I should have poured a drink earlier so I could savor the moment. However, there was beer in the refrigerator. "Excuse me for a second."

When I came back she had the nerve to ask, "Could I have a beer too?"

"A beer? From now on you're getting chocolate milk, maybe with Bosco syrup." Then I decided to give her a break. "If you go upstairs, you'll find ointment in the medicine chest. Rub some on yourself and it will help a bit."

She took my advice and went up there, retrieving her panties from the floor as she left. I didn't expect to see her for a while. I figured she'd lie on her bed, face down, and mope.

Instead, she was back in a little over ten minutes. She stood in the doorway and looked in. She seemed to be a different Nora now. I hadn't broken her, but I had bent her somewhat.

I thought, she's such a nice, pretty girl. Then I realized that "nice" didn't apply to her. She'd always have that edge in her; in a few days, it would be back. I wondered what kind of man could stand her enough to marry her. It would have to be someone with a lot of inner strength. Of course, there she indeed just met a guy who had the fortitude to date her, but Nora hadn't yet revealed that fact to me.

It was four o'clock. Now I didn't know what to do with her hanging around in there. I realized how much time she spent elsewhere. I desperation, I turned on the television. It came on in the middle of a movie I had seen before, The Glory Guys. A young James Caan was on the screen with a bunch of other guys in blue cavalry uniforms.

To my surprise, Nora scrunched her battered ass into another chair and seemed to be watching the film. I hoped she wouldn't ask me what was going on in it because I had forgotten the plot.

[Author's Note: As will be indicated elsewhere, Nora had several intense masturbation sessions in her bed that night. She imagined the belting again but in her fantasies, it was her boyfriend doing it to her, not her uncle.]

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Nora's whoring activities seemed to end around that time. The incoming phone calls definitely dropped off dramatically.