If I were to re-live my entire life, there would just be a thing or two I’d wish to change. But none of them would include being a School Principal. This has always been my dream; a life-long dream. And after several years of hard work and brute competence, Daniela finally achieved that pinnacle! It took me a long but diligent 27 years! Some of which I had to laterally drag myself along! So many trials, temptations, disappointments, betrayals and even in some cases outright death-threats! But I remained steadfast; not because I was necessarily the bravest, but because I wanted to reach that pinnacle! I wanted to be a school principal! The leader of the school and the head with the vision for its future – nearest and farthest alike! It was a thing of passion. A thing of obsession – if you like – to see students taught and guided on how best to behave as members of an institution of learning! Unfortunately, a few people occasionally misunderstood me; so to them, I was just a vile, over-ambitious middle-aged woman! As they wish, I guess! Ambitious? Maybe. But vile? Not sure. I know myself for being stern; or maybe I should use the word firm. I ain’t the easiest to convince; most especially on matters of learning, grooming and discipline.


I don’t think people see me as some Victorian-time rigid old woman-major who would happily choose to go by the cane in every possible circumstance; even though that is how they most often describe me. I mean, I am not exactly old – being only just 49. And there isn’t anything Victorian about my aura, style or methods. Okay, maybe I am a firm believer of the cane, having seen it give tremendous results which men of the ‘talk it through’ school of methods, would most likely never recreate. But which serious disciplinarian doesn’t believe in the same school of reasoning? A proper spank, disabuses the mind from repeating any form of tomfoolery for which said butt was punished. It has been proven a lot to be argued! However harsh that might sound, especially coming from a woman, and mother. That said, yes I am a mother. A single mother at that. Maybe if I were to mention the two things from my past I would love to do in a different way, being a single mom would likely be one of the two.

I have now been so for nearly 6 years. Divorced from my ex-husband Charley and left to take care of Amara alone; the only product of our 12 years of marriage. That is, if she is to be called an actual product of the marriage given she came about 4 years before I and Charley actually tied the knot! She’s eventually grown to become a big girl. Constantly reminding me of my mistakes as a wife and by how much I have missed being married to a man.

She is a polar-opposite of me; both in looks and in character! While we both are immensely blessed with stunning facial beauty, I seem to be the one who had complimented it perfectly, with a fitting body. She has a bit of a different anatomy and looks more like Charley than myself. While I am unbelievably fit despite being in my late-forties; with absolutely no excess flesh and flabby skin, she is a bit more on the plump side and rapidly chasing the obese line desperately! I have tried convincing her to cut down on her food-intake which I find strange for a 15 year-old, but she has barely listened to anything I have said.


Today, I look a lot more in-shape than herself. My arms and calf are well toned, shaped and seamlessly in-tune with my naturally well-flared hips! My waist which occasional exercise has helped to keep continually thin, perfectly matches my flat tummy which unlike Amara’s, hasn’t been badly stretched by excess fat. Our breasts nonetheless, appear to be the only remaining similarities down our bodies. We both have the juggs huge, and occasionally exchange bras! In fact, I do frequently wonder what hers would look like by the time she gets to my age, given how mammoth they already look at only 15! Like mother, like daughter they say anyways, and in our case, while being a bit hard to tell, it still showed in everything.


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