I attended private school for 12 years. Knowing only about penguins, yard sticks, bibles and of course those sexy school girl uniforms. I have owned so many uniforms in my life time, even one job with uniforms for 17 years. I think that so much easier than picking out clothes to wear for the next day.
I have worn solid colors skirts, plaid colored skirts. In grade school it was mandatory to wear a white button down with white socks or a specific color sock. The girls also had a matching vest or bolero. A fashion word I learned at a young age. Bolero!? WTF?!
In high school, the Sophomores got to choose from 2 colors or plaid for their upcoming junior and senior year. Incoming freshman got the other color. I remember an ugly taupe (a grayish-purple) color for my junior & senior year. Freshman & sophomore year is a total blur. I partied A LOT! We could wear any color top or sweater with any color socks and any style shoes. Within reason of course, no heels and no wild hairstyles.
There were rules for the length of the skirt. When standing up, your arms by your side. It couldn’t be shorter than your fingertips. Of course senior year I was so rebellious that I cut mine two inches. Not too noticeable when standing alone however very noticeable when standing among my classmates. I was called into the office and told to kneel on the floor, if my skirt did not touch the floor I would be required to order a new uniform for the last few months of school. I don’t remember what happened but I didn’t order a new one. I also remember writing on my skirt with pen, drawing on it. I had a pin that said “School Sucks.” The Dean of Students asked me “Would your father appreciate that? Your attitude? What would he say? Your father is out there in the community risking his life, working to send you to this school and this how you behave and show your appreciation?!“
I suppose that could have been a kinky little scene … leading into a discipline of some kind. Kind of a clique, right?
I didn’t understand the fascination with the school girl scene. When I first discovered it, I was a bit creeped out. I thought a of dirty old man wanting to have sex with woman who was dressing like a young school girl. In order to act out his dark fantasy of fucking a young underage girl. A closeted pedophile, right? I learned that wasn’t the case. I realized that the fetish branched out in all sorts of directions.
I once dated a guy, that got off when I sat on his lap and talked in my baby talk voice. I thought it was fun at first, then he only wanted to fool around when I was in that “persona.” I dumped him for his best friend (SLUT!)
I will never call another man “Daddy” in an audible voice, texting doesn’t count in my book. I called my father by “daddy” until I was around 27 years old, then it turned to “dad.” It makes me very uncomfortable to say “daddy” to someone who is not my father. I will use “Papi.” I have two. One’s in California, he’s my 818Papi and the other one is “43.” I call him Papi to his face, in front of my co-workers too. Why? Because he is 70 years old. Just a few years younger than my father. Besides this man does things for me at work, so that I don’t have to. He spoils me, the other women don’t like it. I figured I can make him feel special.
After those 12 years of dressing in a school girl uniform, I never escaped from it. I still catch myself looking at pleaded skirts, still drawn to Mary Jane shoes. I like to dress up like this, for the rebellion. I grew into the rebellious girl who was on the edge of trouble, pushing every boundary I could find. I enjoy the tease, the temptation because I think most men fantasize about tasting the forbidden fresh ripe fruit. It feels so delightful in such a dirty wicked way. I like dressing up, but the school girl scene – sexually – isn’t for me.
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