Interviews and Interrogations

Hi Folks, I'm still here, stuck in Eastbourne which is why the blog updates are still so sparse. As always I'm continuing writing but various family duties have taken up a lot of time of late. Today I had to remove a link from the blog-list in the right-hand sidebar. Google chrome was flagging up the link to the blog ‘Paolo in Dublin’ as having ‘content embedded likely to cause damage to a computer’ or something along those lines. I have uncovered a couple more interesting sites while having a hunt around the Internet this morning, the most interesting of which is probably 3D Kink (click to visit) which is full of 3-D rendered images and that has an interesting feature whereby one may design their own ‘ slave girl ’ or whatever. I also hit pay-dirt in my quest for images to inform a suitable role model for the governess figure who will emerge in INSTITUTIONALISED volume 3 in the form of this nice little vintage set here. And now back to a little writing;

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I have been working on a little scene involving a rigidly disciplined probing question-and-answer session between attractive female psychiatrist and her young charge - the formal white-coated, the latter dressed in a hot and particularly restrictive school uniform.

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Perched on a narrow, hard-seated, straight-backed wooden chair our young lady is of course obliged herself to sit rigidly straight backed throughout, admonished for fidgeting and picked up on for the slightest discrepancy or inconsistency between answers to questions that are apparently endless worded almost as if to deliberately trip her up. It is not the first time she has had to sit through such a tedious and punishing interview nor will it be her last - the sessions are repeated over and over and will be until such a time that the therapist is satisfied that all answers given are consistent and that she therefore wheedled out every little nuance of her patient’s hidden thoughts and has her subconscious lying open at her fingertips. Obviously the girl wishes to keep hidden anything that she believes might count against her, especially insofar as her remaining in the institution she now finds herself, but there is a long supple length of rattan lying across the doctor's desktop that begs to differ.

New: John Willie Album Added

Hi folks! Yet another week has flown by without an update, To be honest I hardly noticed as I have been concentrating near flat-out on developing and writing the new volume...That and getting to grips with finding and getting acquainted with a new gym. My old gym closed down without warning - and with very little offered by way of a sensible explanation - around two weeks back. As luck would have it, I only had a couple of weeks or so to run on a year's membership package but I am still hoping it will reopen as I am a creature of habit and had gotten used to going there. Meanwhile I have found another gym up in Palmer's Green (North London).

Now for some news: I have added a few more Lynne Paula Russel / Paula Meadows illustrations to the relevant Picasaweb spanking art album (see side bar on right hand for link listed under Spanking Artwork Albums). In addition, I have now created a Picasaweb album to hold the art of that fine bondage / CP illustrator John Willie. I have gathered together 28 illustrations from various internet sources thus far and will be adding more from my own collection as and when I get around to scanning them in - I own a complete set of John Willie's 'Bizarre' magazine reprints and also some other publications featuring his work. Click here to go to the John Willie album or check out the link in the sidebar, as above.

The Bad-Bunny Punishment Suit

Recently I have been enthusing over the work of an artist going by the Monika of Thorn, though rumor persists that the originator is this guy, Hobbs. Whatever the truth it is rare that any artwork has been quite so stimulating in terms of being a catalyst for ideas for incorporation within my own work – other than the work of Roger Benson I suppose, particularly his reformatory series. One tantalizing possibility that fired my imagination was the prospect of a collaboration with this Thorn / Hobbs chap illustrating my scribblings. But faced with the apparent impossibility of making contact with the chap and his reluctance to defend his own work, if indeed he is being plagiarized, I have been led to the depressing conclusion that he might well be deceased.

Imagine my delight then when, while searching for yet more undiscovered Thorn / Hobbs imagery I stumbled across the work of Julian Guile, not a name I have run into before. It turns out that I have unwittingly posted up an example of this artists work before, albeit in a low resolution form - an image that was sent to me anonymously and was entitled 'The Detention Room' and displayed a high degree of imagination in the design of the miscreant's seating arrangement. The latter is little more than a perch and is undoubtedly very uncomfortable - but so practicable when it comes to instant correction by way of the application of cane or strap. This little innovation is what rescues the subject matter from what so easily could have been something rather hackneyed and stereotypical.

The way this artist captures the all-important psychological effect on the young lady by way of her expression and body language is masterful and very reminiscent of the aforementioned Thorn / Hobbs – he successfully captures the emotional pain and how it may surpass the merely physical in its way.

If further evidence of this guy's creativity is called for, one needs look no furtherer than this little number entitled 'The Bad-Bunny Suit' – below, right. Designed to make the wearer look and feel ridiculous and humiliated while facilitating the application of corporal punishment, a real stroke of genius is evidenced in the design of the sleeves. The latter, terminating in fingerless mittens, extend beyond the fingers and seem designed to incorporate a brass eye or ring at the extremity – all the better to secure flailing limbs. Even the 'bunny-ears' undoubtedly included to further exaggerate the absurdity of the outfit, could be pressed into service to secure the young lady if so called upon. Suitably furnished at their tips with metal rings or eyes they would make fine anchor points to conjoin with similar rings attached to tabs sewn into the waistband or perhaps attached to the toes of the suit if it should be required to restrain the young lady into an acute hairpin-bent posture during the progression of her correction.

What could be more humbling for a girl in her late teens than having to wear such a ridiculous outfit, clearly designed with corporal punishment in mind and leaving little in doubt in the mind of the observer, while fully aware that it also doubles as a restraint system and that, so suited and with her behind so charmingly displayed, she is completely at the mercy of her master or mistress. She has been rendered ridiculous, impotent and helplessly subject to corporal punishment at the whim of whomever in one swoop – what more could one ask of a well-designed punishment outfit?

That Thorn / Hobbs Drawing - Revisited

Today you find your scribe sitting working in the local Wetherspoons pub – I had intended to go to the gym but it turns out that it is going to be shut for a few days. So here I am, sat sitting, and leafing through my notebook I came upon the second part of the piece I wrote around that old Thorn / Hobbs illustration. If you pop back to the original piece / illustration you will understand that this takes the form of some rather rambling thoughts that came to me while sitting in a pub having earlier in the day stumbled across a printout of this old drawing that i had all but forgotten about. Basically it is a series of ideas and thought processes that sprang naturally from the ambiguity of the scenario depicted and as such the ideas tend to branch and grow and pile one upon the other in no particular order but based around certain assumptions about the interrelationship of the participants. At this point I had moved in on a certain assumption as regrades the seated older woman.

Assuming that the woman is a teacher or governess having the intent of returning the young trollop to a strict regime of scholastic discipline, is it then her intention of only leaving the shop once she has the girl suitably dressed from head to foot in full school uniform? Although it seems doubtful that such an establishment as this would seem to be from the visible clues available would stock attire that would be deemed suitable in any conventional sense, in the case of a young lady, schooled in seclusion and kept largely out of public view, that sensibility might be shifted somewhat. On the other hand, being an efficient and well organised woman, might she have arranged beforehand to have a suitable complete wardrobe delivered from elsewhere? Then again, perhaps our young lady will be relieved to find herself handed back the fashionable adult outfit she arrived in, only to be much later dismayed when led to an old-fashioned school outfitters, hidden away in the backstreets, and shown through to a rear stockroom that looks as if it has been frozen in time since the 1950s.

This is where the artist (whoever he might in reality be) has surpassed himself, in the way that he uses the girl's body language to tell the story. Anything seems possible from this point onwards; just a glance at the position of the girl's hands and arms and one instantly reads that this girl, however defiant she might have been before, is now ready to go through almost anything rather than receive further cuts across her backside from that cane lying readily to hand on the table in the foreground. And surely at this particular moment she would welcome any form of covering rather than suffer further the feeling of naked defencelessness that undoubtedly fills her. If she were to be led to a changing room right at that moment, perhaps puzzling as to the fact that her clothing has been left out on the shop-floor, eyeing the young female assistant, barely older than herself, nervously, she might well react in dismay at the sight of the green and white, candy-striped, school blouse draped over the assistant's arm and the short-bodied bottle green 'bum-freezer' blazer waiting on a hanger at the rear, but would she have the temerity to voice her objection? Isn't it more likely that under the circumstances she would be welcoming of any form of covering, however humiliating it might seem? And even if she did balk, perhaps dismayed as the light catches the proffered blouse's satin fabric - seemingly more appropriate if incorporated in a bridesmaid's dress - and she realises that she can make out the shop assistants fingertips through the sheer fabric, perhaps noting for the first time the high, stiffened Eton collar, the equally stiff long cuffs and the childish subtly-puffed shoulders, she knows that the cane is still there waiting. A few wickedly burning strokes landed across her bottom in full view of the young shop assistant would soon have her fingers fumbling with the buttons, her cheeks burning and even deeper shade of red as the skin-close fit becomes apparent; the fitted in-sweeping side-panels curve notably inwards along the contours of her torso and the clever darting at the bosom allows the buttoning to nestled deep within the separation of her bust, tending to exaggerate her already quite generous feminine attributes. I can well imagine that if created by the mind behind this store, then she would find that the collar would button as tight as to seemingly threaten strangulation - even before the diagonally striped, green and gold, school tie is knotted about her neck - and would be as restrictive as to oblige her to keep her chin raised.

The school tie can only add to this sense of restriction. Nestling in the valley between her melon-thrusted breasts it acts to draw the eye to her cleavage, just as the short blazer, buttoning only at the waist by way of two buttons and thus open the front, seems calculated to draw the gaze inwards to where the thimble outline of her nipples can clearly be seen through the thin fabric, raising this already naturally shy girl's self-consciousness to a new level and conversely sending her self-confidence crashing. The form fitting blazer, with its broad lapels drawing in the eye, reveals more than it covers - indeed, it's more a showcase than a covering.

Perhaps a full-length slip might ordinarily have been called for, certainly if she were to leave wearing the gym tunic that has been supplied, but this woman has other ideas for her charge and for today a white nylon waist-slip has been considered sufficient. The thick nylon petticoat has been styled as if a pencil skirt and its reinforced hem girdles the girl's upper thighs allowing only the daintiest of gaits -there will be no more unsightly and feminine striding out for her, nor running about, nor any other activity that might be considered too 'boisterous'.

Beneath that, the bloomer-style interlocked-cotton school knickers fit as closely as if a sprayed-on second skin. Their latex inner lining clings intimately to her flesh and embarrassingly so in all the wrong places. Their frilled leg-cuffs, reaching down and dimpling prettily the lower part of her thighs, are adorned with bottle-green nylon satin bows at the sides; the ribbon being striped with gold so as to match the school tie, the ribbon trim around the lapels and detailing of the blazer and the ribbon bows that will later dress her hair, it is clear that this feature is very much designed to be on show, charmingly peeking out from beneath the hem of her skirt as she walks. As for the latter, the skirt is a conventional enough circular sunray-pleated affair realised in bottle green or light blue as appropriate, perhaps even a pastel shade - a full school uniform realised in soft pastel pinks and baby blues could be an interesting departure don't you think - flaring markedly out from an overly tight, perhaps belted, waistband and coming to its hem at no more than mid-thigh at most. Long coltish legs might perhaps be thought best left bare, perhaps finished off with white frilled, turnover ankle socks, the tops decorated with a dainty ribbon bow at the front or back on the outer sides as preferred and in a suitable colour so as to match skirt, blazer and shoes or perhaps striped so at to match the school tie, the ribbons in her hair and those at the leg-cuffs of her knickers.

As if this were not enough to crush the sturdiest of spirits, then a single glance at the badge emblazoned on the breast pocket of the blazer, mirroring that embroidered on the breast pocket of school blouse beneath, should do so, most assuredly - it would certainly do nothing to ease the girl's discomfiture, promising as it does, a suggestion of her future. Two wicked looking crook-handled canes are depicted crossed over an open school textbook and surmounted by the words: 'St Anne's Reformatory' and a legend curving beneath reading: 'chastisement, discipline and obedience' in a curling embroidered copperplate. That the named establishment does not formally exist is neither here nor there, it is the intent that it implies that matters here - and the confidence-undermining affect that the woman intends it to have on her charge's mind.

Now suitably subdued, our young lady is led away from the store. But perhaps not back to where she headed out from so cheerily that morning, perhaps a new home awaits - but of this latter development she is presently blissfully unaware. As of this moment, she feels that little could be more humiliating than her present circumstances – she couldn't be more wrong. There is much waiting in the wings that she is destined to feel more humbling than this – how misguided she is if she considers this to be her absolute cringe-worthy limit. But then of course she has yet to be sat in the barber's chair: “She wants a nice trim – side-parted and as short as a boy's. Isn't that right dear?”.

And she still has her appointment with the orthodontist specialist to look forward to: she isn't at all sure that she needs braces on her teeth, and most would agree. She certainly isn't looking forward to it, nor viewing the result in the mirror. Her anxiety is well founded, despite the constant reassurances – unbeknownst to her the ironwork has already been chosen and there is nothing modern, lightweight and discreet about it! But then again her guardian is a woman well known as nothing if not a perfectionist, Shes is also not one to squander a pretty penny on cosmetic dentistry without the promise of a good return. It is the all-in-one efficacy of the treatment that has attracted her attention: Perfect that near perfect smile, do something about the petulant brat's overwrought vanity and curb her incessant chatter, all in one...Perfect. Idiotically impeded speech the girl might well be cursed with as a result, but her guardian has set great store on that velvety tongue of hers not being so impeded that it can't be later educated to serve and to please in the correct manner. That day might still be someway off - perhaps still too far off to properly plan for – but that day will come. One that day one uniform will be swapped for another and the girl will find that a promising academic career will have been swapped for lowly service, the pen for the dustpan and the office chair for the kneeling pad..

So there you have it, an unashamedly rambling example of how a single pic can lead one thought to another and yet another.

Startled at an Antique Shop in Rye (East Sussex)...Or: A Sign of its Times?

Hi chums!

I had hoped to continue with my 'Thorn' / 'Hobbs' illustration-inspired ramblings this time but as I am still stuck with using my little 'NetBook' until I can get home long enough to make repairs to my desktop it is taking longer than usual to transfer my rough note pad work for the new volume into computer form. As I am presently making this a priority it means less time is left available to dedicate to the blog. However I thought some of you might be amused by this old sign board (perhaps recovered from an old pharmacy) that I saw in the window of an antique shop in Rye (East Sussex) during my Christmas break there. Very much a sign of its times, it instantly brought certain imagery to mind. One can imagine the dismay registering on the face of a petulant young lady of the Edwardian or Victorian era who, having already accompanied her new governess to the village saddle makers (saddler) and witnessed the purchase there of an intriguing and unusual harness contraption, not to mention a plaited leather switch – despite not owning a pony – is next led over to the village pharmacy and to the myriad unfamiliar items so categorised, discreetly tucked away in some dark corner.

Unfortunately, try as I might, I couldn't get both halves of the sign in the frame in close up at the same without some part of the window frame intervening and so I took a pair of close up shots meaning to piece them together later on th computer. Neither looked too wonderful and so I then intended to take a couple more, backed up by a long shot from the other side of the street. The trouble was that then the shop keeper, presumably having spotted me, began unbolting the door and things rapidly started getting complicated. This, then, is the best shot – at some point I may create the composite image as I had intended, if anyone is interested, but at the present time, limited to the tiny 'Netbook' screen, it would be difficult to do a good job on it. This thing is fine for text, but pretty crap for doing any image manipulation or art work – which is why, for the time being, I am holding back on doing any design work on the cover for the new volume, despite having come up with some really good (I think!) ideas for both it and the eventual INSTITUTIONALISED volume 3 (when I eventually get around to writing it). By the way: the second, hidden half of the sign reads 'Hot Water Bags'...See y'all next time.

A Kind Comment Received and a Bit about the Next Book

As a comment to my last posting ‘Orage’ wrote: “Garth,
I've finished reading ‘Institutionalised part 2’ and words fail me to express admiration! The book is absolutely riveting. Your minute description of the girl's garments when she's in the car was enough to make me sweaty all over.
You're so knowledgeable you could write an outstanding study for a university doctorate. But God forbid! Much better to leave us on tenterhooks waiting for part 3.”

I was about to reply with a comment of my own when I realised what a chance it presents to outline something of the book I'm presently working on - the in-betweeny volume, as I call it as a working title. So I thought I would paste up my reply as if a full-blown blog entry, pretty much in the style that I had begun writing it - so here goes:

Ah! Well, you see I already have a university doctorate, albeit something to do with cows losing their marbles. Thanks for the kind comments, it all helps keep me going. Anyone having gotten to the end of volume 2 would have got some flavour of the direction volume 3 will be headed when I get round to writing it (some small part of it is already completed to some degree - and perhaps as much as three-quarters of it exists already in my mind’s eye). First of all though I want to finish the book I'm working on as it is perhaps as much as two thirds completed on paper. It sort of fits in between volumes 2 and 3 - as I've said before – and covers the period in Lavinia's life when, while in conflict with her Guardian, she is taken under the wing of the woman she comes to call Aunt.

We follow step-by-step Lavinia's path as she is introduced, first to that woman's psychotherapist friend and then gradually to a life of increasingly restrictive discipline and the acceptance of corporal punishment by way of the strap and the cane. We see her persuaded to sign up, as a volunteer clinical research subject, to a project being run under the auspices of a private psychiatric hospital in that institution’s very secluded and very secure experimental psychology unit - itself embedded deep within the hospital's secure wing – where she is to join a small group of girls living in an environment that has been set up approximating to a private boarding school from a bygone age. It all sounds very cosy - all ‘jolly hockey sticks’ and midnight feasts, straight out of The Girl's Own Annual circa 1955 - and so she is completely unprepared for the strict discipline, mind-numbing tedium, demeaning treatment, corporal and psychological punishment and near constant humiliation that she encounters there. Little wonder then that she should seek to leave as soon as possible; but as we have seen in volume to leaving that particular research project is not such an easy option.

We also get a further glimpse into the previous life of one Meredith Hewson and gain insight into the works of a church-run charitable institution only vaguely alluded to in volume 2. Set up in the nineteenth century to care for ‘young women likely to drift into moral peril’ - its remit: to house, employ, keep secure and keep safe such ‘waifs’ from their own harm - vouchsafed beyond the scope of prying eyes and with a nefarious, if nebulous, connection to the aforementioned psychiatric hospital, its work continues today in much the same vein as it did then. Behind its austere portals, the runaways, the lost hopefuls, toil in penance to the Lord and are educated in equal measure - albeit within the limited scope deemed suitable for such girls by 19th-century values; parochial and scholastic discipline intermingle with hypocrisy and ambiguous motive.

Later some of the loose ends are tied up and gaps filled in when we learn something of what happened after young Lavinia made her bid for freedom after her psychological assessment as seen in volume 2. Finally we are given some insight into the mindset of a certain Ms Julia Soames as she prepares to receive back Susan Stringer from the research clinic for the summer months, before deciding - upon consultation with her psychotherapist acquaintance - that it might be advantageous for all concerned if young Susan was to pass the summer living under the care of a professional governess and her nursery-nurse assistant in the secluded country home of a certain titled woman in North Norfolk. And at this point we will of turned full circle and be set up for volume 3 with the necessity for flashbacks etc now negated.

Throughout, though, I'm cognisant of the need to try to avoid repetition as much as possible, in the manner that the work of another author was criticised in a comment appended to an earlier posting on this site. And therein lies the trial of course.

More on Admission Procedures and Institutionalised Punishment

Once again I find myself a little strapped for time. I have to rush out to get on with one or two shores related to preparations for Christmas but I shall be taking my net book computer with me so hopefully I will be doing a little writing later on somewhere, perhaps in a pub with any luck! There has been some interesting correspondence going on via the comments sections attached to my last few posts over the last couple of days, including the contribution of some very interesting and useful links, all of which I shall report on next time. An anonymous contributor has apparently been greatly taken with the subject of admission procedures, as portrayed in the reader's letter that I scanned in from an old copy of Janus I found my collection. As I said before, this was a subject broached any times over the years in the Janus reader’s letters pages, played a pivotal role in developing and forming my interests as they are today and in retrospective view provided a rich vein which I have unashamedly mined quite extensively in developing some of the ideas I have incorporated (and continue to develop) in my INSTITUTIONALISED story arc. Anyway, over the weekend, while rummaging through my old suitcase-cum-treasure chest in a spare moment, I came across a fascinating firsthand account of life in a 1930s institution that I remember reading way back in the 1980s and that my mind has often flashback to in developing my storylines. I have truncated it somewhat, as it is rather long and also moves away from my particular areas of interest, to include those sections that were personally most influential at the time and that endured in the back of my mind to be refined, redeveloped and incorporated into the little (and not so little) tableaux I would conjure in fantasy. See you soon - meanwhile why not have a trawl through the comments sections and join in; all ideas and contributions are most gratefully welcomed.

And the birched Schoolgirl? Nothing to do with the letter's contents whatsoever, it's just that the birch seems to me an appropriate form of institutional corporal punishment for that era. I can't envisage it in the home environment, even in the hands of a stern governess, but within the confines of a suitably secure punitive institution...that's another matter entirely. It is not a form of correction I would imagine would be found wielded by the medical staff, the nurses and matron, populating the secure experimental psychology unit that we visit in INSTITUTIONALISED volumes 1 and 2, but behind the walls of a charitable church-run shelter for girls deemed in moral danger... Well, who knows?

Another Janus Reader's Letters Scan

I hadn't really planned to post an update today, but having harbored a suspicion that the opportunity might arise I took the precaution of emailing myself one of my more recent scans from my desk computer before leaving home yesterday. Right now I am in a coffee bar in Muswell Hill, North London and quite close to Alexandra Palace which I will be visiting tomorrow at some point in order to look around the antiques fair being held there (I collect American Depression Glass, you see - quite apt you might think, considering that I suffer from depression). I have a couple of hours free which I intend to dedicate - once I have completed this - to working on the new volume. I am presently working on a piece provisionally entitled 'The Spiral Stair' which revolves around (revolves around - spiral staircase - get it? Ha, Ha,Ha!) a woman 's visit to a the not-so-humble abode of a certain clergyman in order to get some idea of the workings of his charity offering shelter to young women thought in danger of falling into moral peril. Later i have to go off and earn a crust doing a little paid work - oh well!

Meanwhile, I thought many of you might appreciate this scan taken from the reader's letters pages of a 1980s Janus magazine. It is another example of how that mag so often helped formulate and develop my interests and the direction of my writing. Bear in mind as you read through it, though, that I was never very happy with the idea of the involvement of parents (at least genuine biological parents - by proxy seems fine) or other blood relatives then or now. In my mind's eye I would change the circumstances to involve step-relatives of various flavors - or later and better still, as my ideas developed and I became more widely read - a court appointed legal guardian or strict governess in the employ of a grasping stepmother.

Web Problems and Admission Procedures

I am just Sooo knackered this evening. I have been slaving away decorating my aged mother's bathroom - sanding the ceiling - and a huge chunk of yesterday was whittled away dealing with an Internet access problem that had had me up half the previous night. Basically what had happened was that, although I could access the 'net and use Google to perform searches, I could not read my email nor could I access my own blog. Obviously I though that the broadband connection was OK as I could use Google (and other search engines) - it was only procedures requiring the entry of user name and password that were affected. And as the fault had occurred virtually immediately following a computer crash, my first assumption was that it was due to some sort of file corruption. Then I suspected a virus and then - having used another computer to link via my router and encountered the same problem - I started to suspect the router firewall. Having failed to find any problem with the settings of said device, I decided to reset it to its factory preset conditions and then reconfigure to suit my ISP's (Internet Service Provider's) connection conditions...Disaster!!!! Now I had no broadband at all!!! Having been up half the night pulling my hair out (human hair wig, anyone? Also makes good pillow stuffing! ) on liaising with my ISP it turned out I had entered part of my user ID incorrectly but all else was OK (it is what comes of being dyslexic --- loud scream!!! Now I had Internet, but still the initial problem persisted. I had observed during my diagnosis that my download speed was some 60% up on what I would ordinarily expect and to cut a long story short; this speed hike turned out to be a mistake on behalf of my ISP and upon my suggestion that they try returning the speed to the usual data rate, normal service was resumed. They could not explain why the download speed had been increased (not that I would normally complain) but more importantly; they had no idea as to how it could have caused the observed fault (bumping up the speed again, just out of interest, caused the problem to return) so go figure!!!

Now to turn to the business of the day. Having been 'IT-crippled' for a while I had been getting on with a bit of scanning (I have also been doing a little writing as well, so don't despair - I even got a few hundred words fitted in today, while relaxing with a coffee). And working through a good o'l copy of Janus, I came across a letter on a favorite subject gracing that periodical's letter pages through the 1980s, admission procedures - one of many that I can still recall to some degree and that influenced the direction of my writing. And what better illustration to go with any discussion bordering on the institutional scenario than this little classic from the golden age of the Blushes magazine stable (another newly-rediscovered treasure-trove item from my collection) - see right... Probably one of the most influential images of all time, in terms of my developing my viewpoint and the atmosphere I try to portray in my writing. See Y'all Monday! (By which time I hope to have, at last, made some significant progress in writing the new volume - its all been 'dribs and drabs' of late)...Though I might just get the chance to post something on Saturday - so don't write me off just yet!

A Rainy Enfield Day - The Day After

I am very much 'out-and-about' today. Right now as I write this section sitting under an awning outside the Enfield Town Costa Coffee house (1:45 PM) the batteries on my 'NetBook' are getting low - a pain in itself - and now I have just been shat on by a big fat London pigeon. And now it looks as if his mates are all set to join in also - there are five in a row on a ledge about nine or ten feet above my head, with heads to the wall and with their bums over-hanging my table and quivering threateningly. The proprietors have hung up a rather unconvincing plastic model of a hawk to keep them at bay, but these things ain't that stupid. Besides, these are London pigeons; they probably have no idea what a hawk is and they have learned to ignore big flying things - they're buzzed by jets and helicopters all day long. .. The Ba*$@@ds!!!

Well that was yesterday - making this the first entry I have created split over two days. I had a little 'real' work to do - gratis, this, even though my pockets are fast draining - and then intended to finish off this at home. But the gods of flagellation and discipline were not on my side: the home computer initially crashed horribly on boot-up and from that point on - although I could access and search Google ok - I could not get my Google email to load properly, nor could I sign into Blogger to update my blog. Actually, it seemed to come down to not being able to use anything that involved a user-name and password. This morning the fault still persisted and was still present when I finally gave up and came here, to my friendly local coffee bar, about one hour ago. The weird thing is that the problem does not seem to be with the computer itself; I have a wireless router and connecting via that using the machine I am presently boring you from produced the selfsame symptoms!!! Yet all is ok working through the coffee bar's router. I checked my router's firewall but can't see any settings amiss - nor can I understand why anything should have changed anyway. Any ideas, people?

Not withstanding the above hassle, and not wanting the day to be a complete washout, I spent a few hours scanning stuff for future use. And hit minor pay-dirt: I had intended to upload a piece I came across - and scanned - over the weekend, on admission procedures (a letter published in an old copy of Janus) but then I came across this and my mind got to working. Someone emailed me recently asking if I had illustrations for my books. Well I haven't - I can't draw for toffee and I sure can't afford to employ an illustrator. But if I was to choose an illustration to suit a certain scene in INSTITUTIONALISED volume 2 - think late teenage girl, in a cassock and under secure ecclesiastical care - it would be this. Actually, if truth be told, it was the fading memory of this artwork - and the story that went with it - that inspired that particular scenario (I have previously published a section of it here somewhere - check out the blog archive). Anyway, I then came across another, unconnected, piece but one related to the background to that part of the story arc to which I just alluded and 'hey presto! I was writing - so let's see where that leads us.

More on Non-Corporal Punishment / Discipline

As promised: here are a few more page scans dealing with the intriguing subject of written impositions and other forms of non-corporal punishment and discipline - of which I prefer to focus on the latter. Click to enlarge and read. I will be adding some more commentary later today, when i am ensconced in the local coffee bar, it's just that it is easier to upload the images from home. Note that I do know than one of these pages I have uploaded before (page 50) (click HERE to read the previous posting and page scans from this series) but I have repeated it here for completeness and to make it easier to read through the whole thing.

I have also finally found the scan of the cover which I had mislaid so you can see the tomb that these pages were taken from. As I have said before; this is not one of my works - but I kind of wish it was, it is brilliantly written (I think)!

Note too that the term 'child' here is meant as a deliberately derogatory term and that the regimens outlined here are intended (and most suitable) for use with recalcitrant young ladies in their late teens or even early twenties residing certain private institutions or under the tutelage of a governess at home.

A Bit of News - I'm Working for a Week - and a Lot of Reader Comments

Hi folks, sorry you have not heard from me for a while but I have been away for a while, although I was back in London on Saturday for the last night of the Kenwood House (Hampsted, London) open air concerts on Saturday night with the Philharmonic Concert Orchestra and Alfie Boe singing - a very pleasant if slightly chilly evening. Meanwhile there have been quite a few interesting comments posted in various sections of the blog such as on the last posting I made, back last Tuesday but also on 'An Anonymous Contribution and A Couple More Links' (click to read - look at bottom of posting) that I posted way back in February I think and on 'Aussie School Uniform Summer Dresses, Soap Operas and Inspiration' (again, click to read) that I posted back in July of this year.

Now some other news: I have finally at long last picked up some real work - around one week or so of desk research work, internet based! For that reason the likelihood is that there will be no more posts for around that period as the work looks quite complex and challenging. However; I have some rather interesting stuff lined up to celebrate my return upon completion. Meanwhile thanks for your comments and contributions - please keep them coming in, along with your ideas and inspirations for the upcoming volume and for volume 3 of INSTITUTIONALISED, when I finally get around to working on it again.

Inspiration is Where You Find It (2): Mind Control, Phone Boxes, Catalogues, Friends Reunited (And Another Bit of Penny's Punishments Too (From Janus)

My eyes are still a little problematic so for a while text will be a bit sparse, but as I have said in the last few posts; I will go over these posts again with updated text, labels and explanations etc once my vision settles down and will then post links to the updated pages. So for now mostly pics. First I thought I ought to post the rest of the pics from that classic photo-story, Penny's Punishments, that I scanned from Janus. I had intended to do so, partly for the sake of completeness and partially to provide some sort of pictorial content while writing was being such a strain. In so doing it occurred to me that there is another tale to tell, unwritten yet embedded within these pictures - to my mind there is a tale within a tale here if one looks deeply enough. Now that I'm thinking about it I do remember it occurring to me at the time and that it was something that fired my imagination ; as it does so still now, looking at them again through fresh eyes.

On the surface, for the time it was a fairly standard Janus spanking / caning / discipline photo story ( click on the link above or here to read more of the outline), but I like to feel that there is a more sinister undercurrent. Particularly in the pyjamas scene, but also to some extent in the following two pictures, the girl has this strangely emotionless look about her, expressionless, blank; even at the time, being relatively youthful and largely unaware of the mind control story genre, I thought she looked sort of...well, hypnotized, for want of any better description.

The impression I received was that, although not eluded to in the text, her guardians had more of a hold over her than might be explainable by the threat of a caning from time to time...Soon after, I came across the works of Victor Bruno wherein, at least in his 'private boarding ' reform school' tales, the use of hypnosis (and even brainwashing) was alluded to -although sadly, never elaborated on beyond expounding on the various benefits in keeping the hapless inmates of his various institutions under control.

And there you have it; notwithstanding one or two other influences that I will discuss at a later date, my interest in mind control, especially in the use of hypnosis, was born. What with my frustration at the lack of detail included in the Victor Bruno novels and then having later come across, first the Erotic Mind Control Story Archive ( click to visit) and then story ideas put out on various newsgroups by Acid Tony (under more than one name I think - click to read) you can, I'm sure, understand the strong element of psychological control and punishment, of various forms and levels of subtlety, that weaves its way through INSTITUTIONALISED volume 1. I have never viewed this element as any replacement for good old-fashioned corporal punishment but rather as an adjunct to it - much like Acid Tony, I see each being in support of the other.

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While on the subject of hidden meaning and inspiration here are a few scans of a couple of pages from a very mainstream 1980s fashion catalogue (below). At the time I thought of her as the perfect mistress figure, a couple of steps up from the governess so to speak, perhaps the haughty guardian of some hapless browbeaten girl. Later she was to become (as part of an amalgam of characters, along with certain other influential models and pictures) the model for the character of Lady Madison Daisy Bartlet as appears in INSTITUTIONALISED volume 1 (click to read extract on this site).

More hidden content: At one point in my life I worked as a cycle dispatch rider in the West End of London and would often throughout the day have occasion to visit a phone box or two. There were always plenty of cards advertising various 'personal services' and from time to time one would catch my eye. This example led me to search for and explore all sorts of medical fetish literature that I didn't know even existed at the time; I wanted to know just what these procedures might consist of. More importantly I wondered just how such procedures might be applied to the young ladies that by then populated the stories and fantasies that, in the absence of suitably imaginative published literature, I was beginning to concoct for my own amusement by this point. These tales existed only as bare bone fragments of ideas that this stage, but as I learnt more about this new world new storylines evolved and necessarily became more complex in order to incorporate techniques and procedures that I was learning about. All sorts of devilish torments came and went in my imaginary tableaux - the ideas that would one day grow into the INSTITUTIONALISED series were beginning to take root. Incidently, a nice collection of such cards can be viewed at Mike's Spanking Booth (click to visit).

An Anonymous Contribution and a Reply

Some time ago I posted some story ideas under the title of; Some story ideas: An original inspiration (Click to view). An anonymous visitor has left an interesting comment on this post; one I thought inspiring enough to reproduce here - particularly as I am about to post in a serialised form (in two parts) a governess-and-her-charge orientated story scanned from a spanking magazine of the period the writer speaks of.

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I recall from the 1970s one of the "spanking" mags had a feature called "Diary of a Victorian Young Lady". The young lady's parents went abroad leaving her in the charge of a governess, who introduced her - never before so much as spanked - to he "delights" of the cane, the birch, and the heavy tawse.

I could probably recall some more detail of the story, if it be of interest. What I perhaps remember best is the reader's letter castigating the governess on her leniency.

- In case she takes it into her head to attempt to run away again, she should be taken to the blacksmith to have a chain permanently shackled to her ankles. This will prevent her wearing any drawers, but there is no need for such a garment - absence makes her person more readily available for discipline. She should not be allowed to idle away her time in the schoolroom, but should be helping the maidservants to scrub the floors, and they should be permitted to discipline her should her efforts slack. Finally the application of soothing creams should be totally forbidden, instead she should be birched every bedtime with stinging nettles. This is not only an effective punishment, but would help her skin to heal and be once more available for discipline on the morrow. Anon.

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I for one would love to hear more details from this story; it is not one I recall coming across and it sounds promising to say the least. Equally inspiring are the details from the reader's letter that our anonymous contributor quotes, particularly the part about the shackling of her ankles - an absconding charge is always a worry under such circumstances.

But there are more than one kind of shackles and not all bonds are visible nor, indeed, even tangible. Self-confidence can be fragile, self-doubt quite debilitating and, similarly, agoraphobia can be quite immobilising.

Whether the germ of the idea be introduced through manipulative suggestion or a mild propensity be amplified in severity through a similar means, the increased sense of dependency on her governess, sure to result, would serve to tether the girl every bit as well as steel or iron.

Although certain of the protagonists inhabiting the pages of INSTITUTIONALISED volume 2 will undoubtedly encounter individual physical restraint and those of volume 1, once actually ensconced within the walls of the institution, find themselves languishing behind steel security grilles, it is the more psychological approach, broached above, that has guided two such young ladies into their new lives and that threatens to curtail their freedom. In volume 2 we will see the power of such a non-physical technique lovingly as wielded by a particularly strict governess to control and bind her charges to her. Corporal punishment is of course introduced, with cane, tawse and martinet as is a suitably humiliating uniform for her girls, but the discipline applied and enforced within that invisible framework of restraint.

Some story ideas: An original inspiration

A large part of the impetus in getting me writing came from reading a series of story ideas published in some of the newsgroups around 10 years ago or more, under a couple of different names but now admitted to by a kind gent (I'm sure) going by the name of Acid Tony, who I'm certain will not object to my reproducing them here:

Some serving suggestions (for mind control stories)

The suggestions presented below are some that I posted to various newsgroups around 10 years ago or so. They are mainly mind control story ideas of various levels of subtlety. The one person who responded at the time described them as being all rather Victorian and melodramatic, but there's nothing wrong with that to my mind. The old Victorian governess / evil and exploitative guardian themes were great as was the Victorian propensity to commit wives and stepdaughters to the asylum at the drop of a hat (or at the hint of an inheritance) at least in fiction if not in fact. personally I prefer stories set in the present or near past even if written around similar themes.

As for futuristic automated systems and computers etc, I have recently read a book that touched on these themes to some extent. There seemed to be portrayed the use of motion detectors and an alarm system to control a girl's movements and the use of some sort of computerised training and control system was hinted at. Also at one point a doctor talked about eventually controlling her patient by a series of tones. Although that part of the story did not lose me completely I am not really into all of the automated computerised futuristic stuff. I'm never too keen on stories involving special drugs and worse still, nanotechnology, nanobots, implanted microchips, viruses and DNA manipulation etc. Call me old-fashioned but it all seems a bit too easy to me.

Give me an overbearing Victorian governess or nurse with cane in hand and her dominated cowed late-teenage charge any time. Saying that though, the idea of a collar appeals to some extent. There are those electronic collars that they use to train dogs not to bark and that give out electric shocks when they do. A great way of training an over-talkative girl I would have thought. I guess I don't mind a bit of technology sometimes, as long as the scenario seems plausible and not overly technical. At the end of the day you can't beat the good old-fashioned cane or tawse to my mind.

Anyway I hope that others, more talented than I, will be stimulated to incorporate some of these ideas in their mind control stories. In these stories I envisage:

1. 'Mind control' as involving any psychological pressure used to bring about a behavioural change in the subject. To this end hypnosis can be used at some stage, but the treatment need not be necessarily limited to this technique. Psychological pressure, including that brought about by some physical discomfort, might be employed to break her resistance to undergoing hypnosis or hypnosis employed in order to help break resistance to any other techniques being employed.
   
2. The realisation that large personality and behavioural changes are impossible to achieve using hypnosis over a short time scale. A scenario is required whereby it is ensured that the subject will be repeatedly exposed to the hypnotic influence over a longer period of time.
   
3. As above it should also be noted that it is not possible to force a subject to act against her character or against her will under hypnosis. Nevertheless, once again, over a longer time scale subtle changes can be brought about so as to guide the subject down the required road, perhaps ensuring she becomes easier to handle as time goes by and so easier to subject to other measures, designed to bring about the required changes in her. Similarly it could be arranged for her to experience situations and experiences designed to reinforce the hypnotic suggestions that she has been exposed to.

The above includes much scope for the inclusion of other interests in the story line. This may increase both the breadth of the audience and that of the prospective authors, perhaps encouraging new authors to include the mind control theme in their repertoire. In this way I can envisage that these stories might accommodate themes such as spanking, bondage, humiliation, uniforms, diapers, plastic, rubber etc - in all sorts of interesting combinations.

For example a girl (or male being kept as a female) might be spanked or caned to reinforce the subjection of her will that is being carried using hypnosis. As part of her subjection she might be required to wear some sort of uniform and this could involve a considerable element of humiliation depending on the imagination expended upon its design by her mistress or master.

This could be symbolic of her new status, an obvious example being a maids uniform, or it might be worn to reinforce the process of the subjection of her will, perhaps a childish school uniform worn by a rather mature looking nineteen year old. The element of humiliation and degradation could be by way of the exposure of her body in the traditional manner or by the inappropriateness or unusual design of her dress but also by way of the deliberate unattractiveness of her dress. An example of this latter point might be the teenage girl forced by her new mistress, once an equal, to work as her maid dressed not in an attractive sexy 'French maid' uniform but rather in a more practical garb, perhaps consisting of a severe nylon button through overall - dress and apron worn over underwear such as a pair of nylon, plastic or rubber bloomers and a corselet, the garb of a much older woman. Another example of this might be the girl, her once waist length hair cut short, made to wear a particularly severe, old fashioned looking school uniform (gym-slip etc) and having particularly ugly teeth braces fitted, perhaps in the guise of necessary orthodontic treatment but in truth to further crush her spirit and her resistance to her guardian's will.

As to the points regarding hypnosis. In an institutional environment such as a special school, sanatorium, or hospital, resistance to treatment with hypnosis might be broken down by the prior use of sleep or perhaps sensory deprivation. Similar, repeated, treatments can be given over weeks or months until such a time that, due to post hypnotic suggestions, she has become such a good easy subject that she no longer resists further treatment. Perhaps confined to bed in a small hospital room for long hours, it is easy to envisage her being exposed to subliminal messages from a speaker by the side of her bed to enforce the ideas that her treatments are designed to foster in her. Similarly, a small television set placed on a table over her bed might allow her to see programmes, but only those carefully selected to reinforce her training and perhaps with subliminal images included. Such a television, 'malfunctioning' producing a pulsating coloured pattern, could be very hypnotic. Once she has become a ‘good subject’ she could be instructed to turn on her television when the 'lights out' bell rings last thing at night and to watch the pretty patterns until falling asleep under hypnosis after which she would listen to instructions repeated all night, every night. She could, perhaps be made to dream about her earlier hypnotic suggestions and her new life style.

In a more domestic setting gentle persuasion to see a hypnotist, perhaps to cure a phobia or improve her confidence might be more appropriate. Post hypnotic suggestions as to how much she has enjoyed the experience will then ensure that her treatments become a regular part of her life. At home the malfunctioning television technique might later be introduced by her step mother or guardian working in collusion with the hypnotist, and tapes at bed time could be introduced, again to reinforce the hypnotist’s suggestions. Over time a series of post hypnotic suggestions and carefully planned experiences might, together, reduce her self confidence further. For example she might gently be introduced to the idea that she suffers some mild agoraphobia. Her guardian might arrange for her to suffer some unsettling experiences, involving large crowds for example. Later the hypnotist might work on this growing phobia until the girl no longer has the confidence to go out alone. In this way she would become more and more dependent on her guardian who would then use this dependence as leverage to introduce a more disciplinary aspect to bear on the girls life. The hypnotist might suggest also that the girl feels small, plain and insignificant while her guardian seems attractive, powerful and towering. Again this would make it harder for the girl to stand up to the disciplinary measures and restrictions that her guardian intends to introduce, measures that in themselves will reinforce the hypnotic suggestions. In time she would become a very changed girl, certainly a very obedient one.
Suitable subjects might be:

The heiress: She is seventeen years old and her guardian holds the purse-strings but only until she is eighteen. By her eighteenth birthday she has been persuaded to sign documentation extending that control until the age of twenty - one as she does not feel confident that she is yet adult enough to manage her own affairs without her guardian’s guidance. By her nineteenth birthday she is sitting at a school desk in a room arranged as a schoolroom in a house owned by her recently appointed governess. She is dressed in a school uniform of sorts and is writing out a complete multiplication table, over and over, while her stern governess stands over her flexing a cane. The multiplication table she is copying is all totally incorrect; it is an invention of her governess. The girl knows this of course, yet she must learn it by heart. This is merely a device to impress upon her the need to obey others and designed to further subjugate her will. Other lessons involve her learning other deliberately incorrect facts. The idea is to impress upon her that it does not matter what she thinks she knows or believes. All that matters is what she is told to do and say. By the age of twenty one......

The business rival: She is twenty two years old and has inherited a small firm. A rival company, headed by a glamorous thirty - five year old women, forces her company into bankruptcy but puts together an ‘aid’ package. The woman will invest some of her own money and her company will take over the girls old family-run firm. Not content with taking over the girl’s company she also insists on seizing the girl’s home and savings to pay of her debts. She offers to help the girl further by providing her a roof over her head, a small room in her home, and employment. Bit by bit the girl has to swallow her pride as she is repeatedly found lacking and demoted. Eventually she is demoted to 'junior office girl', a post requiring only that she types the most mundane of data into a computer. The boss has a uniform requirement in the chain of shops that she owns and decides that the junior office staff should now wear the same uniform. The young girl is now attired like a checkout girl when at work. The work she is doing is deliberately boring in order to encourage her to be more receptive to the subliminal messages appearing on her screen. Soon she is being sent to a private sanatorium for several months for further treatment. The boss is not satisfied with having destroyed and taken over the girls company, she wants the girl owned too, completely broken and on her knees.

Acid Tony