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Cathy turns the tables on Steve and Theresa in her own way.

She just couldn't hurt him, "Well what's that?"

"I want..."

"Yes?"

"I..."

"Yes, speak up."

Steve blushed. He turned as red a McIntosh apple, "I..."

"Steve you better get it out."

"I want my own little school girl."

"You want a what?"

He turned even more crimson. Theresa was wrong. She wouldn't go for it. He stammered, sort of mumbled, "I want you to be...my...uh...school girl."

Cathy was both relieved and a little disgusted. The last thing she wanted was to climb back into a lot chains, or pretend to be some stupid harem girl; things she figured most men would want. But a school girl? Wow, stupid Steve. She could do that though. She tried to control her relief and her limited enthusiasm. This wasn't too far from what she'd thought she'd be doing if she got to work at the hospice. A school girl, she was already small, had smallish breasts, and he'd already commented on her innocent childlike appearance.

She thought yes, this was just the kind of stupid thing Steve might want. Sure it made sense. All men had their dumb fetishes, but Steve's weren't mean, not really. In spite of the chains, his peculiarities were childlike, silly even. She carefully worded her next sentences, "Well Steve, you weren't thinking about a spanked school girl?"

His heart leaped for joy. She was interested, "Oh no!" School girls never get spanked."

"What would a school girl do?"

"She'd wear a uniform."

"Just one uniform?"

"Oh no, my school girl would need several."

"What would she do?"

"She'd go out with her school master."

"School master?"

"No I mean teacher, no I mean daddy."

"Where would they go?"

"Every place. They go to the zoo, the movies, the theater, the opera, out to eat, everywhere."

"Would she be treated well?"

"Oh yes, she'd be treated like a princess. She'd get anything she wanted. She'd get to do whatever she wanted, anything," he hesitated for emphasis, "I mean like anything."

Cathy wanted to protect herself, "Would she ever be punished?"

Steve's answer leaped off his tongue, "Oh no! Never! She be spoiled! She'd get anything she wanted. I mean anything all the time!"

Cathy felt better, but there was something else she had to clear up, "Could she go to the hospice?"

"Oh, of course, the hospice. She'd be at the hospice all the time. She'd see the children. I mean the other children."

Cathy was home free at last. This was going to perfect, just perfect, She went over and knelt down in front of the lap top computer on the small table that rested in front of the sofa, "Gee, maybe we better look at uniforms and such."
Steve jumped across the gazebo to the laptop. He knelt down beside her, "Oh Cathy." He tried to put his arm around her shoulder.

She lifted his arm away, "Let's look for uniforms."

"Oh sure, uniforms." He was so excited. Theresa was brilliant. How did she know? He looked at Cathy. Of course, but what did it matter? He was back in her good graces.

For the next several hours they scanned the Internet looking at school girl clothes. They looked at dozens of different types of Catholic school girl outfits all trimmed out with pretty little peter pan collars, high hemmed jumpers, and saddle shoes. There were dozens of English prep school uniforms with their cute ties and blazers. They perused the many Japanese uniforms; the sailor suits with the middy collars, short pleated skirts, and glossy Mary Jane shoes. There was an array of pretty coed fashions with crisp white V-necked blouses, short skirts, and thick wool knee high stockings.

They studied shoes; saddle shoes, tennis shoes, Mary Jane's with adorable buckles in the front, and pretty penny loafers with feminine little tassels and bows. There were socks, ankle length, knee high, thigh high, all kinds all colors.

Steve said he had an account on Pay Pal so it was easy to log in and order everything they needed. After they were finished he grinned, "Want to come back inside?"

She gave him a sweet childish smile, "I'm not dressed."

"You're OK."

Cathy answered

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