Eager to enroll.

Delightful.

At the risk of sounding like Humbert Humbert, I smirked to myself when, recently, the afternoon downtown rush hour found me in a sea of bobbysoxed, tartaned young ladies freshly released from various local parochial schools. It wasn't their age bracket that spied my wandering eye (I enjoy my wine with a few notable years within it as well, thank you), but the fantasy thereof and its relationship to innocence, submission, and proper training protocol.

That is to say, the uniforms, and in observing the sway of wool over tight, cotton socks and with classy, crisp white shirts, my thoughts drifted to Kara's recent and tawdry efforts to please her man. This is what made me smirk.

She'd done some shopping, you see. She's realizing how much fun is possible with Us. She likes it.

With her previous background in theatre, she tells me how sh's thoroughly enjoying fashioning "her new costume." I had intended to buy this for her, and as she cutely apologizes for "taking the wind out of (my) sails," it's clear to see that the little waif is having her fun. Now how could I deny her?

Standing with a sly smile and giggling eyes, she modelled the plaid skirt, the smart little steel clasp pin, and a tight white top. At my instruction, she bent over her stairwell to reveal the lace-trimmed white panties she wore underneath that so delicately framed her amazing little ass.

The same amazing little ass that I made certain to spank a blushing red later that evening. And the same amazing little ass that I intend to bare and punish during an upcoming playparty as she experiences her newfound wardrobe. A few days later, she modelled a pair of Mary Jane shoes that so aptly worked for the ensemble.


Her innocence melts before me. Truly delightful. I am having so much fun corrupting her.