Yaya couldn’t quite put a finger on it, but there was just something different about school. Placing a manicured nail on the flushing handle of the porcelain throne she had just been occupying, Yaya pushed down the silver handle. She immediately gripped the sides of her pulled down panties and slide them up her legs and over her hips, letting them snap into place as she patted her skirt, making sure it fell over her knees.
Yaya was a small girl – on the shorter side of the spectrum – often getting mistaken as a First Year when she was not wearing her robe or tie. Continue reading