Somewhere, somehow, someway and a few years ago, a caller/client described me as "The Original Catholic School Girl Gone Bad." I thought it was apt enough and liked it so much that I've used his exact phrasing here and there when promoting myself.
It fits me and is more or less the truth about me when you get right down to it. I even have a recorded fantasy titled as such, which is a re-enactment of a somewhat true-life adventure of mine in which, while in Jesuit college, I had a brief affair with my college professor. I say "somewhat true-life adventure" because the fantasy is much sexier than what really transpired.
Although many might find the fact that he did get his very first blow job ever from me kinda-sorta sexy. And the novelty of a pair of young lips around his cock combined with his lackluster (and blow job-less) marriage probably goes a long way in explaining why he went a bit off the deep end and everything went seriously wacky. The ending to that particular liaison was extremely unpleasant and rather scandalous-messy. I don't recommend it.
The thing is that I adore men and always have. And I've always been able to wrap them around my finger. This isn't necessarily a comment on my sexual prowess; it's more about insecurity and being the daughter of an absentee, alcoholic father. I spent three of my four years of college in therapy addressing these issues, and I still am working on them.
But I did say that I'm working on the issues. I'm far from cured. It's a slippery slope with one step forward and two steps back. And a girl has got to have some fun after all. I mean it is called dysFUNctional, after all. So why not? And I am in the business of FemDom phone sex.
There is something about a Catholic school girl that just drives guys crazy. Is it the pleated, plaid skirt? Perhaps the cute knee socks? Or maybe, right at the beginning, something in our baptismal waters acts like fairy dust to change us into stupendous cock teases? Probably, when you get right down to it, all Catholic school girls are destined to go bad, sooner or later. At least a little bit.
Of course, the phrase "going bad" is very subjective. I take it to mean going bad in a very good way. I like being bad in a good way and I like being good at being bad. Maybe we "enlightened" all-grown-up catholic girls should be known as porn-again catholic girls. We got our training and knowledge regarding the male animal while growing up amidst the rituals, sacraments and orthodoxy of our faith; but as young ladies figuring out the very real advantage women have over men (we have it, you want it) we come fully into bloom in a very feminine way. Our religious training is part of who we are. Only now we use it to our advantage.
Which means applying the same methods of indoctrination with which we grew up, in perhaps a gentler way, so that our male conquests become our sexual captives. We more or less create our own little mini-religion in which, for all intents and purposes, we are little Catholic Goddesses pulling heart strings and cock leashes with equal glee. You see, we already know that religion can be a powerful thing. Just ask St. Dominic Loricatus.
Kneeling? We wrote the book on it. Confessing your sins? We understand the need. Renewal through sacrifice? We've got you covered and will show how to do it just right. Acts of contrition? You can bet there will be a lot of those. Holy Communion? With us? Hmmm … I do think at least a stretch of chastity might be required for that. Maybe even a bit of sweetly persuasive CBT.
Say it with me: In the name of the cotton panties, saddle shoes and plaid skirts, God bless little Catholic School girls all grown up.
Now don't you feel better?