Copyright 1999 to <mijita@thetreehouse.net> Please respect this copyright. Don't distribute or archive this story in any way except for personal use without explicit permission. No, it's not in the public domain. Ask first, okay? Thanks.

[Posted to soc.sexuality.spanking, 9 September 1999]

Mija's New Saddle Shoes
by Mija

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. =8-0).

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 hear. :)))

And then . . . Reader, he spanked me! =8-0

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