Straight Female / 37
SKOOL'S OUT!
It's twenty years! My god where has that time gone? I was seventeen, at university at a famous city, here in the UK.
Like all students, the ones who weren't blessed with the bank of Mum and Dad anyway, I was living from hand to mouth. Frugal, not wanting to spend my grant on myself and ending up with mountains of government debt. I'd got myself a job at Burger King, but the hours were all over the place. They used me when they wanted me. Then, one day I saw a flyer on the main uni noticeboard.
A new pub was opening called SKOOL'S OUT! and they were looking for barmaids. The only criteria was that you had to be eighteen and have an 'outgoing personality.' The hourly rate quoted was amazing, well over the norm. I wasn't old enough but I thought, what the hell, I'd give it a go.
Recruitment, was in the pub, word had obviously got around and it was crowded. Girls and women of different ages, no doubt attracted by the generous advertised wages. The pub was aptly named. Done out like a schoolroom. A line of desks joined together to form the bar and blackboards lining the walls. Three men, I was to discover later that they where the owners, sat behind desks on a raised platform. The crowd quietened down when one of them stood up and explained, with a wry grin, that they were looking for, schoolgirls.
We were asked to form a line from which we would either proceed to the next stage or be eliminated. It was obvious that a lot of women looked nothing like schoolgirls. Too old, the wrong size or shape, even some very attractive girls were eliminated because, quite simply, they looked the complete opposite of a natural schoolgirl. I was lucky, because I did. Tall, with a willowy figure, natural coloured hair, long legs and virtually no boobs. So, luckily, I got through. The large crowd was reduced, substantially. Some of the younger girls visibly upset when they walked out.
The next stage was about the 'uniform'. A very attractive girl, hair caught up in high pigtails, appeared from behind the bar, dressed as a schoolgirl. Short, pleated skirt, white long-sleeved shirt with a blue and white striped tie. Stocking tops where visible just below the hem of the skirt and the outfit was completed by white ankle socks and heels. This caused a few more girls to make a, very quick, voluntary exit. This caused me more than a bit of trepidation but I stuck around, more out of curiosity, but knowing I could leave anytime.
The man on the platform explained that from this stage onwards those who remained had to be both extroverted and open-minded. I was none of these, but I stayed anyway. On the wall behind the bar where four tills, above each till was a television screen. The 'schoolgirl' made her way behind the bar and pressed a button on the till and, with a bright smile, turned to face us. The till drawer opened, the television lit up and a light came on between her feet. On the TV was a clear view up her skirt. Stocking tops, suspenders and, to keep it authentic, a pair of white, cotton knickers. This, naturally, caused a lot more girls to exit the pub, with disgusted looks. As for me? I stayed. I convinced myself I needed the money, but, to be perfectly honest, the idea excited me a little.
So, I got the job. The pub became a roaring success. Men, mostly young lads out for a good time, poured in. Naturally, it was embarrassing at first. But, after a bit, you kind of got used to it. The atmosphere was never sleazy. Of course there was some bawdy remarks and roars of approval when girls opened the tills. But, it was all done in good humoured kind of way that made most of us laugh. We couldn't wear four inch heels for a six hour shift. So, after a time all of us complained and the manager, reluctantly, allowed us to wear trainers. Schoolgirls don't wear high-heels anyway! We learnt, quite quickly, that if you stood to one side that the till could be operated without showing your underwear. So, customers who didn't give a tip got no show. The bigger the tip the longer we stayed over that light.
I remained true to my schoolgirl image. White or navy blue knickers. However, some of the girls took it a bit further, panties and thongs, which got them more money. One girl, Jenny, took the whole thing a bit too far, despite the manager nearly having heart failure, on certain Saturday nights, which became notorious, wore nothing under her skirt and earned herself a small fortune.
So, my claim to fame is that I worked my way through college by showing my knickers. Of course I never told my parents they'd have died if they knew. Given the place where I worked I got hit on, many times. But, I'm proud to say I was never tempted and finished university life as I started - virgin intacto.
After a little over a year some shrivelled up women's group got the pub closed. 'Exploiting young girls.' But by that time I'd made my money.
Like all students, the ones who weren't blessed with the bank of Mum and Dad anyway, I was living from hand to mouth. Frugal, not wanting to spend my grant on myself and ending up with mountains of government debt. I'd got myself a job at Burger King, but the hours were all over the place. They used me when they wanted me. Then, one day I saw a flyer on the main uni noticeboard.
A new pub was opening called SKOOL'S OUT! and they were looking for barmaids. The only criteria was that you had to be eighteen and have an 'outgoing personality.' The hourly rate quoted was amazing, well over the norm. I wasn't old enough but I thought, what the hell, I'd give it a go.
Recruitment, was in the pub, word had obviously got around and it was crowded. Girls and women of different ages, no doubt attracted by the generous advertised wages. The pub was aptly named. Done out like a schoolroom. A line of desks joined together to form the bar and blackboards lining the walls. Three men, I was to discover later that they where the owners, sat behind desks on a raised platform. The crowd quietened down when one of them stood up and explained, with a wry grin, that they were looking for, schoolgirls.
We were asked to form a line from which we would either proceed to the next stage or be eliminated. It was obvious that a lot of women looked nothing like schoolgirls. Too old, the wrong size or shape, even some very attractive girls were eliminated because, quite simply, they looked the complete opposite of a natural schoolgirl. I was lucky, because I did. Tall, with a willowy figure, natural coloured hair, long legs and virtually no boobs. So, luckily, I got through. The large crowd was reduced, substantially. Some of the younger girls visibly upset when they walked out.
The next stage was about the 'uniform'. A very attractive girl, hair caught up in high pigtails, appeared from behind the bar, dressed as a schoolgirl. Short, pleated skirt, white long-sleeved shirt with a blue and white striped tie. Stocking tops where visible just below the hem of the skirt and the outfit was completed by white ankle socks and heels. This caused a few more girls to make a, very quick, voluntary exit. This caused me more than a bit of trepidation but I stuck around, more out of curiosity, but knowing I could leave anytime.
The man on the platform explained that from this stage onwards those who remained had to be both extroverted and open-minded. I was none of these, but I stayed anyway. On the wall behind the bar where four tills, above each till was a television screen. The 'schoolgirl' made her way behind the bar and pressed a button on the till and, with a bright smile, turned to face us. The till drawer opened, the television lit up and a light came on between her feet. On the TV was a clear view up her skirt. Stocking tops, suspenders and, to keep it authentic, a pair of white, cotton knickers. This, naturally, caused a lot more girls to exit the pub, with disgusted looks. As for me? I stayed. I convinced myself I needed the money, but, to be perfectly honest, the idea excited me a little.
So, I got the job. The pub became a roaring success. Men, mostly young lads out for a good time, poured in. Naturally, it was embarrassing at first. But, after a bit, you kind of got used to it. The atmosphere was never sleazy. Of course there was some bawdy remarks and roars of approval when girls opened the tills. But, it was all done in good humoured kind of way that made most of us laugh. We couldn't wear four inch heels for a six hour shift. So, after a time all of us complained and the manager, reluctantly, allowed us to wear trainers. Schoolgirls don't wear high-heels anyway! We learnt, quite quickly, that if you stood to one side that the till could be operated without showing your underwear. So, customers who didn't give a tip got no show. The bigger the tip the longer we stayed over that light.
I remained true to my schoolgirl image. White or navy blue knickers. However, some of the girls took it a bit further, panties and thongs, which got them more money. One girl, Jenny, took the whole thing a bit too far, despite the manager nearly having heart failure, on certain Saturday nights, which became notorious, wore nothing under her skirt and earned herself a small fortune.
So, my claim to fame is that I worked my way through college by showing my knickers. Of course I never told my parents they'd have died if they knew. Given the place where I worked I got hit on, many times. But, I'm proud to say I was never tempted and finished university life as I started - virgin intacto.
After a little over a year some shrivelled up women's group got the pub closed. 'Exploiting young girls.' But by that time I'd made my money.
- That's Juicy! 20
- Remove It! 3
