It’s been a long time since I wrote a “Kink of the Week” post. KOTW, in case you don’t know, is run by the blog Kink and Poly. It’s an open discussion where everyone is invited to write about their personal experiences, opinions, thoughts and fantasies relating to a particular kink. I used to write KOTW posts all the time when I was a more active blogger. After I stopped being able to put as much time into writing, KOTW went on hiatus for a while, but now, it’s back! There was one topic before this one that I missed (just because I didn’t have a lot to say on it) but now, there’s a topic that suits me extremely well and I’m excited to write about: school uniforms.
School Uniforms are one of the things in the world that I fetishize the most. It can be an important part of a spanking scene or fantasy to me, but I also enjoy wearing them on their own. Like I sometimes do, I’ve created this visual aid to describe my feelings towards spanking and school uniforms:
I’ve created a venn diagram which shows my interest in spanking and my interest in school uniforms, and how they overlap. I’ve scaled the the two circles in order to properly show the way they relate. While scenes involving school uniforms take up a fairly big chunk of my spanking fantasies and play, they certainly aren’t taking up anywhere near all of it. However, the bigger piece of my school uniform related activities involve spanking. It’s also scaled down because it’s less of a significant kink for me, although it’s still one of the most important ones for me.
Besides being something that I enjoy playing with a lot, school uniforms have been on my mind for a long time. Although I almost feel like I was born with an innate interest in spanking, I wasn’t interested in school scenes at all until I got to be a little older. My original fantasies were all domestic. The kind of schools that would later become my fantasies didn’t exist for me yet. I went to a very relaxed public school, where none of my teachers were stern or serious and I could not imagine corporal punishment being used there. We did not wear uniforms. I don’t remember when I even became aware of school uniforms, or when I began to desire to have them. I do, however, know that when I was still in elementary school, I had obtained my first school uniform, which I sometimes wore like regular clothes despite it not being required at my school. It was a navy blue jumper (pinafore) with a pleated skirt and a white blouse underneath. I absolutely loved it, but it made me feel strangely like I was being naughty or inappropriate when wearing it. Wearing it lead to all sorts of complicated fantasies about being sent away to a very stern and serious school where spankings were given out regularly!
My interest in everything school related only got stronger as I aged, and I played complicated school pretends, set myself play-homework assignments and imagined strict punishments for any failings on my part! It was sometime during this period of my life when I discovered Roald Dahl’s autobiography, Boy. Within a few minutes of picking up the book I had learned about caning, and my fantasy world was forever changed. Once the English school fantasy was introduced to my mind, it took over like an invasive species. It was instantly at the top of my mental food chain. A large part of the fantasy for me involved the uniform, and the specifics of it. Unlike the short and suggestive skirts that I often prefer to wear nowadays, I fantasized about a very conservative uniform with lots of details: special socks and panties, shiny black mary jane shoes, a plaid skirt, a starched white shirt with every possible button buttoned, a tie, a blazer with a fancy, heavily embroidered insignia, a hat. A large part of the fantasy was the aspect of having multiple girls in matching outfits. It felt like we were unified and all on the same team. I think it also appealed to a desire for a sense of equality with my peers, as I was a strange, outcast girl who sat alone on the edge of the playground reading books. In my fantasies, I was equals with every other girl in my school and was often a ringleader in creating trouble, although sometimes I instead was the teacher’s pet.
As I became a teenager and then a college student, my interest in this only intensified. I now had the means to actually buy the things that I wanted, and I had discovered both internet spanking videos and spanking story sites: Mary Catherine Whitney’s St. Francis School For Girls story series had a huge impact on me. She seems to share a lot of my feelings about uniforms, and reading her descriptions made my mind wander in all kinds of wonderful ways. I also began to have privacy in my life, and I experimented with simply wearing as complete of a school uniform as I could find for myself. It was different than it was when I was a child. My feelings had become much more intense and I had grown increasingly shy and private about my spanking/school girl fantasies. Dressing in school girl clothes had started to feel far more taboo. I couldn’t “get away with it” anymore. And as I got older and the clothing I wanted to wear stayed the same, I began to notice a gap between the age I wanted to pretend to be when “playing school” and the age that I actually was. I took comfort in this slightly regressive play. It felt safe and somehow made the fantasy stronger.
Now that I’m actually playing on an extremely regular basis, and have been for years, school uniforms haven’t lost any of their significance. These sorts of scenes can create a lot of different emotions for me, depending on which aspect of the kink they focus on. Here are some of the things that I enjoy about this kind of play.
Formality: There’s a difference, in my mind, between a caning given to me when I’m wearing regular clothing and one given when I’m in a school uniform. The second seems more formal, and in my mind it becomes inherently more severe. It’s also hotter. I find the feeling of formality and even austerity that comes into play in most of my school roleplay scenes exciting and yes, erotic. When someone is being cold and harsh with me, especially when he or she is also dressed formally, it makes my knees shake. These formal school scenes are the core of my school fantasy, and they’re made even better when I’m playing with someone like Paul who has excellent technique as a Top. It’s clean, calm and precise, but oh so painful. Call me by my last name. Touch me as little as possible to do what you have to do. Send me away when you’ve finished. Yes.
Vulnerability: Depending on my character or the intended age of my uniform, playing this way can make me feel much more vulnerable than the average scene. This is the age play aspect: when I’m dressed this way, I’m just a helpless young girl. My misbehavior might be small, my punishment might not even be that severe, but it’s a very big deal. I find myself reacting more to spankings when I’m in this headspace, crying easily and apologizing profusely. Sometimes, my vulnerable feeling can be met with the formal attitude, making both of them feel ten times stronger, but other times, in this mood, I want to be punished by someone who has more tender, personal feelings for me. This tends to lend itself well to roleplays where I’ve been sent home from school for something and I’m being punished at home (although still dressed for school) by a guardian figure.
Sexuality: I cannot lie: I find school uniforms sexy. I especially find other girls in school uniforms sexy. Especially if we’re wearing the same uniform. It makes me feel like we’re teenagers, and that we’re exploring our sexualities together. That which is meant to be common place is suddenly extremely erotic. I can’t keep my hands away from her white, cotton panties under her school skirt, and she has her hand slipped in between the buttons of my blouse… Oh my, I could go on. I have a particular fetish for sheds. I know this is weird. I like the idea of hiding out behind a building in an institutional setting, being someplace where we aren’t meant to be and having sexy things happen. Of course, we’re likely to get caught and severely punished for this sort of behavior, and that only adds to the excitement.Taboo: Sometimes, I want to do a school scene which is incredibly dark. I don’t want someone to be formal with me: I want them to be harsh with me. I want them to be cruel to me. I want to be shoved around and man handled. I don’t want to be spanked, I don’t want to be punished: I want to be beaten. I want my uniform stripped off me: if pulling my shirt makes the buttons come off, then I don’t care, I’ll sew them back later, maybe still in character, sitting alone and sniffling. I want this to happen to me for no reason at all, for me to be entirely innocent and not deserving of these horrible things. I often want these scenes to include sexual consensual non consent. It’s dark and awful, but I love it. I take delight in it. It makes me incredibly aroused. Part of this probably developed because a lot of things that used to feel taboo to me just don’t anymore. I can talk about spanking openly in the grocery store and not blush (getting a swat, however, still makes me horribly embarrassed, but that’s a different story). Darker stories like this give me that same sort of rush. Also, I only like to play this way with someone that I love and trust (so, pretty much, I only play this way with Paul, although there are a couple other people who I would play this way with). I’ve mentioned it before: there’s something really hot to me about pretending to dislike someone you actually adore in a scene. It let’s you become someone totally different, and let’s us do things we normally wouldn’t do.
Naughtiness and fun: When school roleplays involve other girls, they often end up being incredibly wild and wacky. We play off each other. We get into mischief. We pass notes. We make faces behind the teacher’s back. We do explicit hand gestures. It’s fun. I’ve spent so much of my kink life trying to be a good girl, and it’s a blast to entirely abandon any semblance of that and just soak up the enjoyment of being a bad little girl. My beloved friend, Bad Alex brings this out in me more than anyone else. Put us together and get us in uniforms and suddenly we’re whispering very rude things, or making “field trips” to the liquor store!
Camaraderie: It doesn’t matter how they all feel about each other or whose fault it was: when a group of girls is all in trouble, there’s a sense of camaraderie that can’t be denied. I *love* big, mutli-girl school scenes because of this. Like I mentioned before, once we’re in uniforms, we’re all peers. We’re all the same. It’s a unified group. And when one of us is in trouble, or worse, when all of us are, we feel for the other girls. In these sorts of scenes, I get to experience the emotional ride of getting in trouble and being punished over and over again as I live vicariously through my peers. We get to comfort one and other, holding hands while taking our discipline, maybe, or just sending empathetic glances. You know that your friends know how you feel.
Exhibitionism: I mentioned earlier that not all of my school uniform play is spanking play. Sometimes, I like to go out in public dressed in my school uniform. That’s the entirety of the scene: going to Target or a diner (or a liquor store) while dressed up like a school girl. It gives me a huge, exhibitionist rush. I wonder if people can tell that I’m an adult or not. I wonder how they feel about me. I wonder what they think I’m doing. I feel embarrassed, but also exhilarated. During our first vacation together, when we first started dating, Paul had me wear my full school uniform to breakfast at a restaurant with him. I lingered in the car for a moment before getting out, and hoped I wasn’t blushing too much as I walked in. The gusty wind that kept blowing my school skirt up didn’t help me to feel any better. I felt incredibly excited by the whole thing, though, and couldn’t stop squirming in my seat!
I’ll have to make a second post later describing all the kinds of uniforms that I like: fancy ones, plain ones, jumpers, skirts, summer dresses, PE kit, school shoes, school bags, notebooks, bows, insignias and much, much more. American ones, English ones, Japanese ones. You got to see a good sampling of them here, though, and there will surely be more to come!I hope you guys enjoyed this KOTW post. You can check out all the posts on the subject here:
Want to read my other KOTW posts? Check these ones out:
Punishment: The Real Kind
Punishment: The Fun Kind
Experiments with Bastinado
Protocol: Accepting the Concept, Enjoying the Reality
Understanding TicklingWelcome back KOTW! There will be many more in my future. 🙂
I’m kind of a season behind on my blogging, so this story isn’t recent, but I enjoy it. I hope you will, too!
In July, after my visit to Denver, my friend Tasha and I drove to Chicago for Crimson Moon. Crimson Moon is a party that I truly love (not like there are any spanking parties that I *don’t* like). It has a very different feel than a lot of other parties. Part of this is the relaxed, casual atmosphere that the organizers’ attitudes lend to the general festivities. Another thing is the fact that Crimson Moon is held in a hotel that doesn’t have large suites, so people tend to play and hang out in a handful of smaller, more intimate bunches. This gives you lots of different rooms to chose from with lots of different energies, which is a big win. It also means that you have the unfortunate situation of not running into people as often as you might want to, or missing someone entirely because you were always in different rooms.
On the first night that I was at the party, I came into a room to find that my friends JC and Piper, as well as a handful of others, were playing in there (in fact, I’m pretty sure it was their room, but I wouldn’t guarantee that). I’m just getting to know Piper, although she seems incredibly sweet, but JC is one of my long time friends, and he’s become one of my favorite Tops. I hadn’t played for recreation yet at the party (I’d done a couple of sessions earlier that day) and I wanted to get going at that: what’s the point of being at a spanking party if not to get (or give!) lots of spankings?! Besides, because of the variety of small groups that I knew I’d be hanging out in all weekend, I wanted to catch JC for some play in case we didn’t get a chance later.
After some hanging out and cuddling, JC bent me over the edge of the bed and started to spank me with his hand. He started out fairly gently, but moved on to start using his hand like he normally does: hard. He gives one of the hardest hand spankings of anyone that I’ve ever played with, which is really saying something! I was really wanting to be spanked, though, and I was particularly happy to be reconnecting with my friend this way after almost six months, so instead of resisting, I felt blissed out. I think I probably cooed as he spanked me. The room we were playing in was busy and bustling, and my friends were probably watching, but I was in the right headspace to not care. Everything in the background melted away, and my only thought was the brightness that I felt with each smack. After a little while, JC decided it was time to move on to another implement (I say this because his hand pretty much counts as an implement in my mind!) and he brought out a pair of new hairbrushes. They still had the tags on and everything! I think Piper had purchased them for him, so I asked her if it was alright if I got spanked with them (as this is something I would have been sensitive about were the tables turned) and she gave an enthusiastic “Better you than me!” JC told me to pick which one I wanted to feel across my bottom.
When someone asks me to pick out a strap or select a cane, I always feel nervous and a little lost: despite the amount of time I’ve spent on the receiving end of these implements, I still have trouble identifying which ones will be meanest based on site. Hairbrushes, though, are a different story. I consider myself a good judge of character when it comes to hairbrushes. I can tell which ones are going to have a deep, burning bite, and which ones will have a lighter, more superficial sting, which ones have a cushioned core that give them a gentler thud and which ones will blind me in a frenzy of smacks that I can never seem to get used to. I could immediately tell that one of the two hairbrushes was decidedly friendlier, so I picked that one. It was a a rectangular “paddle brush” in a reddish colored wood.
JC began to spank me with it, and I began to squirm a bit, wriggling around under the smacks, although they felt quite like I had expected. Smack, smack, smack went the hairbrush. Things grew sorer and sorer with each smack, until one felt vaguely dull and strange.”Are you serious?!” I heard JC ask. I turned around to look. “You broke my hairbrush! This is the first time I ever used it!”
I find it annoying when people brag about breaking canes, since that’s usually a sign of poor technique combined with more force than a person with that level of skill should be using, but with little implements like this, it makes me excited. Ha! Take that, hairbrush! I got you back!Piper seemed to share my attitude, cheering me on and talking about how I’d saved her.
Of course, at this point, that meant that I was in for a dose of the other hairbrush: the one I hadn’t selected because it seemed heavier and more bitey. It was, indeed, heavier and more bitey. I squealed and kicked a bit as he gave me a hard flurry of swats to “reward” for my “accomplishment.”
Breaking things during your first spanking of a party weekend? It’s a sign that things are off to a good start! ❤︎