Two young women sat in a diner on the Upper West Side of Manhattan. Both of them were about to start their senior years of college. Nora Meara attended the City College of New York, a public institution that was part of the city university (CUNY). It was located uptown in Manhattanville/West Harlem or whatever one chose to call that particular area.

The other one, Gilda Wasserman, attended New York University (NYU), a private school in Greenwich Village. It had already developed a reputation for being an expensive school, although the tuition and other costs were nothing near what they would be in later decades.

Meanwhile, in this September of 1976, Nora was about to pay her first-ever tuition bill. The free status of the city system, which had existed like that for well over a century, had become a casualty of the city and state financial crises. It was still relatively cheap by today’s standards.

Nora was aware of the higher social status of Gilda, who could afford to go to a private university. But the two did share an experience. In their freshman years, both had worked as ad hoc, part-time hookers on their respective campuses. Both had gotten into the job almost by accident, and both had quit at the end of their freshmen years. Gilda, however, had met some people in her junior year who have gotten her back in, but she worked exclusively as a dominatrix now.

When Nora had heard about these other people, she thought, hah, a bunch of pimps and madams. She liked the idea of keeping her money for herself. She knew that her independence couldn’t last forever, which was one of the reasons she had quit before her luck ran out.  

Just as her freshman year ended, Nora had piled up a significant reserve of cash. At first, she stowed money in her dresser at her home, then she opened back accounts. She bought the 1970 Mustang convertible that she had coveted.

One thing that surprised her was the number of other girls from around the city who heard about her and came to visit her at City College to recruit her for some operation or another. Information spread quickly in the underworld, and it was difficult to keep secrets.

When her sophomore year started, and she was out of the business, she got fewer visitors. Gilda found her at the beginning of Nora’s senior year in 1976. In an unusual move, Gilda invited her to lunch at a restaurant.

Both girls were on the tall side, but Nora had dark blonde hair and steel-rimmed glasses. Back in the fall of 1974, she had tried a bob cut and decided that she liked it so much that she would keep it. Gilda was a brunette, and her dark hair was long and flowing. They were casually dressed, although Nora could see that the other woman had better quality clothes than she herself had on.

As they talked for a while, Gilda asked her, “So what motivated you to leave the business?”

“Well, for one thing, after ten months, I was getting tired of the whole scene. It was quite a stressful grind after a while.”

“I can understand that; it happened to me too.”

“The event that really convinced me to get out was that I got a boyfriend. The strange thing is that he started out as a customer.”

“Would you tell me a little about that?”

“It’s going to take a bit of explaining.”

“That’s fine; I’m not going anywhere.”

“Okay, in my history class there was a guy named Paul who obviously had noticed me. By the way, it was also obvious that he was a virgin.”

Gilda found that amusing, “Somehow they always give themselves away through various clues.”

“So he said very little to me during all of that time, although I knew he was looking at me. Finally, near the end of the semester – well I knew he was getting good grades and I wasn’t. So I invited him to the Finley snack bar and made him an offer. If he would write a term paper for me, I would give him a blowjob. I think I shocked him, yet he accepted the deal. He was that desperate to get some action.”

She continued, “So at the beginning, it went quite well. We met at a college newspaper office one night, and I got my term paper and he got blown by me. I refused to swallow, however, which we had already agreed to.”

“Sounds like a reasonable deal.”

“But then we got into a fight about nothing, really. We yelled at each other, and we slapped each other’s faces. He must have been triggered by it all because he pulled me across his lap and spanked my bare ass. I was amazed to find out that I enjoyed it. I got so turned on that I let him fuck me from behind.”

“Oh, the sweetness of young love.”

“After that, we were both a bit stunned, but then he invited me to dinner downtown. I figured, what the hell, I might as well go. And, just like that, I had a boyfriend.”

“How long did it last?”

“Just over four months. I was feeling my sexual power for the first time at something beyond prostitution. I got together with an older guy named Greg, who had a good job down on Wall Street, plus he owned this beautiful Triumph Stag convertible.”

“I get it, you went with a bigger, better deal when it came along. That’s understandable.”

“I think Paul really loved me, but he was a young liberal arts major with no clear prospects ahead of him. He didn’t even know what he wanted to do in the long run. Meanwhile, I got a Mustang convertible I bought with the money I had made for myself.”

“Still, I feel a bit sorry for him.”

“Don’t be. By that point, I had joined the newspaper he was on, and I stayed there for the last two years. I heard all about his later romantic exploits. Soon after I dumped him, he picked up not one, but two other girls on campus.”

“He was feeling his sexual power too.”

“Exactly. So he has been getting plenty of poontang, although the last few months have been a bit slow for him. Anyway, as you can probably tell, he and I are still friends, or maybe it’s just acquaintances.”

“Nora, could you tell me if you had any dominatrix gigs during that time?”

“Oh sure, although I refused to be submissive myself to any man, for any price. Only my boyfriends get to do that to me.”

Gilda said, “I’ve also heard that you refused to have vaginal sex for pay. Why is that?”

“I’m not sure why; that’s just where I drew the line. It’s like most hookers won’t kiss their customers. Anything else, anal, oral, manual – you know, handjobs – was up for negation. I’d even fluff a guy by grinding my bare ass against his bare crotch. One guy kept his trousers up, and he ejaculated into his pants.”

“What did you think of the dominatrix work?”

“To tell you the truth, that was the only aspect of being a hooker I really enjoyed. I loved verbally humiliating and chiding those guys as much as I liked the actual spankings.” Nora giggled, “I always masturbated as soon as I could after one of those sessions, reimagining the whole thing. I got some of my most intense orgasms ever doing that.”

“I’m glad you had some fun with it! You see, Nora, I could offer you a part-time dominatrix position if you wanted it. It would all be in-calls; we have apartments, really nice ones that you could use.”

Nora wondered who “we” referred to. Back in the 1970s, the Mafia was still fairly powerful, and they had a major hand in the prostitution game. She figured that she didn’t need to know about that unless Gilda offered to tell her. Maybe the apartments give them places that were available when they “hit the mattresses,” if they still did that sort of thing.

She had other issues that Gilda could indeed answer. “When I was doing these dominatrix jobs, sometimes the customers would want a sexual release from me at the end. Of course, I would charge them extra for that.”

“It’s pretty much the same here. Everything has to be worked out with the customer before the job can start.”

Nora said, “I remember one poor guy, I was spanking him over my knees, and he got so excited that he ejaculated into my lap. I made him pay for the dry cleaning bill.”

“Of course, that’s only fair. Nora, do you have your own apartment now?”

“No, for years now I’ve been living with my uncle at his house in Maspeth, Queens. During my hooking days, I would have customers come out there when he was at work. You’d be surprised at how far some of them would travel to see me.”

Gilda said, “Despite the so-called sexual revolution, there are a lot of guys out there starving for some sex.”

“Once my uncle came home early and he caught me on my knees in the living room blowing a customer.”

“I bet that didn’t go well.”

“Man, did he get pissed. He beat my bare ass with his belt until it felt like my butt would fall off. I wound up kneeling on the floor again. Yet I had already met Paul and I knew I liked that kind of thing despite the pain.” She stopped for a moment and she realized that she was blushing. “That night in my bed I masturbated like crazy, imagining getting that belt across my backside.”

“You don’t have to be embarrassed; a lot of girls feel that way.”

“I’ve dominated Paul myself, and he seemed to love it.”

“A couple of switches in love. How romantic. Do you ever miss him?”

“Well, we’re still on the paper together, so I still see him a lot. However, I think we’ve both moved on.”

Gilda said, “I also know that you won’t be submissive for money either.”

“Yes, that was another line I wouldn’t cross when I was a hooker.” Nora had a particular gripe to air. “You know what I don’t get is these women in porn shoots who are submissive – I mean they allow themselves to be photographed while being spanked or caned.”

“They do it for the money, obviously.”

Nora replied, “I know I sounds prudish, but I don’t understand it. The only man I will let do those things to me has to be my man; I would not allow myself to be published like that.” (In those days a lot of BDSM porn was still in magazines.)

“How about that first guy you talked about, the one who wrote the term paper for you?”

“That was sort of an anomaly, because I was so young and I was caught by surprise. And we became lovers anyway.”

Gilda said, “Well, we don’t do porn shoots, but there is porn about dominatrices too.”

“I still wouldn’t do it. That stuff never really goes away, and twenty years from now people would still see my face in some dog-eared magazine. I need my privacy.”

Gilda said, “Let’s talk terms here. I know you’re still in school, so you wouldn’t be available all of the time.”

“I don’t mind; that’s fine with me if it’s okay with you.”

“I’m a part-timer too, so I fully realize that school has to come first. Now of course, unlike a freelancer, which you used to be, you will only get a percentage of each deal.”

Yet when Nora heard the potential amount of money she could make anyway, she was astonished at the amount. During her first time around, three years earlier, she had to adjust her prices downwards somewhat. Initially, she didn’t know what she was doing, and she had overestimated what guys were willing to pay for her services.

Gilda said, “Just think of it Nora, you’ll be able to get your own place and leave your uncle’s house in Maspeth.”

Nora tried an objection. “I don’t want to spend my whole life doing this.”

“Nobody said you had to. But you haven’t graduated yet, so you haven’t really started your life. Having some extra money will help.”

“I still have some savings left from that first period, and that ended two years ago.”

“As I said, we do in-calls only, and we screen our clients pretty carefully.”

“That has to be better than some of the jokers I had to deal with back then. A few of them didn’t even bathe often enough. And the nasty things many of them called me . . .” She left the rest of her thought unsaid.

“You yourself will have to talk to the clients on the phone before you meet them. Find out exactly what they want and how they want it. Give them a safe word, although very few men use them when they are the bottoms.” Gilda added, “You could let them know whether or not you will accept any sexual contact, although cock and ball play is certainly an interesting side activity. Instead of giving them a release, you could deny it to them.”

Nora said, “I used to have guys masturbate while they looked at me, specifically my pussy. That was kind of fun. Sort of a peep-show kind of thing without the glass between us.”

“What’s weird is that these guys are our clients, yet they are paying in some ways to give up control over what happens to them. If they do set limits of their own, however, we have to respect that too.” Then Gilda asked, “How did you find clients in those days?”

“You’d be surprised how fast news like that gets around at a college. Within a month, I was the school’s, ah, let’s call it working girl.”

Gilda said, “I know all about that, it happened to me too at NYU. It wasn’t until I came back to the job this year that I dedicated myself exclusively to the dominatrix trade. And it’s all professionally run. No more trysts in college men’s rooms.”

After sipping more coffee, Gilda asked, “That term paper that – Paul is his name? – wrote for you. What was it about?”

“It was sort of a review of George Orwell’s Homage to Catalonia. You know, the Spanish Civil War.”

“Did you get a good grade on it?”

The results still rankled Nora. “No, I got a damn ‘C.’ on it.” She hastened to add, “But I don’t think it was really his fault. I read it, and he seemed to do a good job with it. You can never really know how a professor is going to react to something.”

“Okay, sweetie, think it over and give me a call next week. I think you are the right person for this job. If you accept it, I will fill you in on more details about what to expect. Don’t worry, we are here to support you.”

Nora sat there quietly for a few moments. Am I really getting back into this? Yet the conditions were much better than her earlier experiences had been. And the money – she couldn’t help but think about that. No more temp jobs in offices, or stints in fast food restaurants.

Was it Oscar Wilde who said, we can all be had for the right price? No, she had looked it up, and he had said, a cynic is a man who knows the price of everything but the value of nothing.

Nora thought, is that what I have turned into?

#####

There will be a prequel to this describing some of Nora’s experiences in 1973-74.