A Writing Update, Asylum Nurse Slippering, a New Blog and a Right Old Cock-up

I wonder how many of you have ever produced a piece of work and then realised some days later that somehow you had closed down the document and forgotten to save it. Well, that is presumably exactly what has happened to me recently. I wrote a nice piece of dialogue for the new volume on Friday, I can remember practically every part word for word, well almost, (which is a lucky thing, considering - as it looks as if I shall have to rewrite it from scratch). Yesterday, while out and about with my portable machine, I settled down in a friendly coffee bar intending to continue where I had left off; only finding myself unable to find any trace whatsoever of what I'd previously written. I checked deleted files, files that I had e-mailed to myself as backup, files on both the memory sticks that I carry with me and even the main story file itself, in case I had already inserted the text - all to no avail. For while it almost seemed as if I was going out of my head - a possibility if it was not for the fact that I can remember so distinctly what I wrote. As is the last few days of the Grand Wetherspoon's beer Festival I promise myself a couple of days of partaking of a few ales and meeting up with one or two old chums but now it looks as if I shall have to park myself up in one of their fine establishments with my computer and rewrite the piece while it is still fresh in my memory and while I still have the enthusiasm to write the continuation piece that I had planned to work on yesterday.

The whole thing revolves around one of our young heroines arriving with her escort at a therapist’s office in the West End of London, having been persuaded, some time previously, of the necessity of seeking professional support and having had to date attended many such appointments. More specifically, the part that I had planned to work on yesterday - and that I hope to get my teeth into today - simply deals with the doctor's receptionist taking the girl’s outerwear from her at a coat stand in the waiting room and with the girls reluctance to be helped off with her outdoor things, despite the fiery summer's day outside and the waiting room being somewhat over-warm as a consequence. It doesn't sound much but it requires quite a lot of detailed descriptive work - and work that I relish to tell the truth, dealing as it does with the rationale behind an obviously sweltering and pink faced late teen girl and a heavy gabardine garment worn on one of the hottest days, driest, days of the year. But before I can allow myself that little imaginary excursion I have to deal with the more mundane workaday dialogue that leads up to that point - the stuff that I wrote on Friday and shall have to write again. So I'm off to the Southgate Wetherspoon's (because it's a lovely sunny, blue-sky sort of a day here in London and that pub catches the sun in the afternoons) to have a few pints and get a little writing done - that way it is not work!

The above artwork, someone sent me anonymously recently. It has nothing to do with the piece I have just been outlining to you but I love it because it nicely illustrates a situation I've had in mind whereby (albeit in a watered-down form) one of our heroines, now nicely ensconced in a secure institution, is visited by the woman responsible for having manipulated the situation and having the girl placed there in first place. One can imagine the bitter chagrin felt by the girl in having that woman witness her punishment first-hand.

Finally, thanks to a comment posted on my last article, I've become aware of a nice little blog for you to check out. A very personal affair, this one - but one also chockablock with nice vintage spanking and ‘spankable bottoms’ pictures. Called Doonstartwo (I'm not sure if there is a Doonstar one) you can click here or the blog title to visit it or see the blog list in the right-hand sidebar.