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[Posted to soc.sexuality.spanking,
9 September 1999]
New Saddle Shoes
I got new saddle shoes this weekend. Black
and white ones. This wasn't an impulse buy; I'd wanted some
for a long time. But you know how it is. The first time I saw
some (over two years ago) I didn't have any money for them.
And then later I had the money, but couldn't find the kind I
wanted. This weekend though, desire came together with opportunity.
:)) Yay! Don't ya love it when that happens?
Some background information. First, I'm a product
of 13 years of Catholic primary and secondary education - high
school at an all-girls school. For all of those years I wore
pretty strict uniforms. Now you'd think that would have caused
me to hate uniforms by the time I graduated. But while
I admit not to have any love for the brown wool (and in California
yet!) knee length skirts I wore in high school, I've missed
the structure of having a uniform ever since I graduated. I'm
not sure why this is, but I think it has to do with missing
the safe and structured world in which I thrived. Also, I hate
having to decide what to wear everyday. :o
Anyway, back to the shoes - from the time
I was in kindergarten until I finished 8th grade, my school
uniform required saddle shoes. They could be navy and white,
black and white or all white, but they had to be saddle shoes
and they had to be kept polished (I still remember my mom at
the sink bleaching black marks out of the white cotton laces).
My sister and I always got a new pair every fall, with enough
growing room to take us through the spring. No matter what color
we got, they were made of hard leather with red clay soles that
never seemed to wear out (tho one time my sister picked
at the stitches around hers until the sole came loose! No, she
didn't get spanked, but I remember her getting her hands smacked.
Going to get new shoes at Buster Brown and
uniforms at Dennis (they supplied most Catholic schools in Southern
California during the 1970's and 1980's) was always the sign
that, despite the heat, summer was almost over. Since we wore
sandals and Keds almost every day throughout the summer, the
feeling of putting on these stiff new shoes was sorta like suddenly
walking from sunshine into a dim church. It was familiar, yet
a huge contrast. When we got home, we had to dress in our new
uniforms and shoes (my mom told us to, but we'd have wanted
to anyway, new stuff, ya know?) so my dad could see us when
he got home (thinking back, I think this was a way to prepare
him for the shock of the charge bills).
Even though by the time I was 10 I knew that
other kids dreaded wearing the uniform, I was always really
proud (what a geek!! <blush>) to put mine on at the start
of each term. Everything just fit so neatly together and was
so different from the jumble of hand-me-down play clothes or
fragile Sunday best we wore other times. And the shoes, fresh
and stiff at the start of each school year, were a part of that.
Saddle shoes, for those of you who've never worn them, are stiffer
than most other sorts of leather shoes. They break in eventually,
but it always took weeks (and often bloody bandages :( ) to
get them flexible.
Anyway, this weekend a friend from the newsgroup
was visiting me and I made it our quest to find saddle shoes
- the real kind rather than the Bass or DM adult versions. I
wanted the kind that would have passed inspection at my schools.
We went to a lot of malls and finally found just the right ones,
and at a Buster Brown shop no less! Some things never change.
:)) In an odd way, these are one of the most fetishy things
I now own. But the fact they're real, made to really be worn
at school, makes them seem all the more special.
I have a lot of memories of getting spanked
in saddle shoes, mostly after school for something I'd done
in class and maybe gotten a note home about. Or for teasing
my sister too much in the car. I can actually remember the shoes
in one of them 'cause I was being spanked over the knee and
remember seeing my own feet kicking through the chair rungs.
Not that anyone here would be interested in such details <g>,
but I was being spanked with a ping-pong paddle by my dad on
my bare bottom. Trying to remember why, I think it was for scoring
alarmingly low on a spelling test (that sadly happened a lot).
What I remember are my feet in saddle shoes kicking away as
the paddle spanked my poor bottom very sore.
I can't really imagine wearing those shoes
around much unless I take up swing dancing (don't even laugh,
I could!). So I imagine them staying alarmingly white and new
looking. And never really breaking in and becoming entirely
comfortable. So I'll always be aware of having them on.
I wore them for my newsgroup friend with a
lovely wool kilt from my summer in Scotland. He said I looked
cute and beautiful. :) Which was just what I wanted/needed to
And then . . . Reader, he spanked me! =8-0
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