But then as the weekunfolded I realized it was just like any other school as far as theregular classes went. History, Geography, Math, English, And so...on. Theonly real difference was the specialized classes.Everyone filed into the room taking our seats by room number, this madeit easier for the teachers."Welcome class," said the instructor. She was prancing across the raisedstage in a Leather cat suit and six inch stiletto's. My name is MistressBianca. You may call me Mistress. In the boxes. Charles and Gwendoline were a little confused, as was Terry, who tried to get up after sitting and before Clinton reseated himself.That was when I smelled the rat, the seating arrangements were clearly known by Terry, perhaps even organised by her with Charles and Gwendoline’s connivance. This was a bloody set up and I got a very bad feeling about it, not helped by the phenomenon of Clinton not rewinding to the positions where they were like everyone else.‘What was going on?’ I asked. Each year that I got older I moved into older girls' clothes that my sister had worn 4-5 years earlier, which were stored in the basement by my mother. And as I hit 5th and 6th grade, I continued to progress in my clothing, going from cotton flowered panties into satin panties. I went from tights to stocking and a garter belt (this was after all the mid-late 1960's). I went from little girls buckle shoes to flats and low-heeled pumps. I went from cotton undershirts to a stretchy training. I don’t understand how they could have known when it was ok to do that, what they had to say first in order to have permission to do it. It’s not relevant to me though, since any sort of contact is not what I want – I’d run a mile, as Miss Danica once put it. Then there’s the whole ‘humping’ thing. It’s not just to rub up till spunk point which is what I assumed it was for many years, like a perv on the Tube does. It actually goes in, which I suppose is a more effective method of delivering the.