Wednesday 12 May 2010
Is it Me, is it Nanny’s World - Or Just a Spot of Sanitary Protection?
Friday 7 May 2010
Badge of Shame and an Institutional Cane
Hi folks! just a quicky to let you know where I'm at. As you may know; as well as writing the storyline for the new book I am also collaborating with a computer-graphic artist on the production of a suitable series of graphics with which to illustrate said work. Actually, going beyond the scope of the graphic work, our correspondence has been fruitful in other ways; for example in the inspiration I have derived from the interchange of ideas which has actually led to new dimensions opening up in terms of the story-arc. I can't say too much at this stage for fear of giving too much away, but suffice it to say that recently we have been discussing the intriguing subject of non-corporal punishments, inspired largely by a work I have featured before on this blog, namely 'The Female Disciplinary Manual” by one Regina Snow (I hope I have got that right – I am in a pub with out access to my usual sources of reference). Right at this moment I am hard at work on the design for a badge to grace the baggy institutional pyjamas that I have previously described my heroine having been put . Although I have in the past mocked up a sort of faux school uniform badge thing featuring the clasic crossed crook-handled canes and open textbook, both for the uniforms of the girls in the schoolroom unit and for the uniform that Lavinia's aunt used to make her wear before coming to the unit, (you should be able to find this in the blog archive with a little poking about – I can't quite recall the date right at this moment)' I don't have a design suitable for this particular use. It's important to the storyline that any design featurs the hospital's crest (which I have yet to give much thought to – any ideas, folks?) the girl's patient number, the word 'patient', the name of the hospital and the all-important words “secure psychiatric unit”. I downloaded a series of suitable images I can utilise to knock something up before coming out, and having stashed them on a data stick I will be working away on it while downing a couple of pints (who am I kidding? A load of pints). The pics are a couple I came across this morning in my collection while rummaging for inspiration and originated, I think, from Janus magazine...Enjoy.
Wednesday 5 May 2010
News, Views and Prison-Bar Blues
Now for some other news: I have just added a link to a guy called Doug Adams’ home page in the ‘Useful Resources’ list (see right hand side bar or click on ‘Doug Adams’ home page’, above highlighted in blue – I hope ). Look in the left hand side bar in his index page for a list of content, including articles on all sorts of fetish-related subjects, many of which have relevance - either directly or indirectly – to my present project or at least are potentially inspirational. Scroll to the bottom and you will also find a free image gallery, which again I have found inspirational.
I have also added two new blogs I came across just now while searching for more inspiration for the new volume to the blog list (situated in the right hand side bar, if you're new here). Schoolgirl Spanking Stories does exactly what it says on the tin – click on blog name to visit or check side bar.
Friday 23 April 2010
How Might She Punish Herself: A Random Thought for the Day
A random thought brought about by working on the new book and through an email correspondence: The idea of the victim having to train their tormentor is potentially interesting in the extreme. In a way this could be a secondary matter - for example; if through some weakness of will our young heroine might allow her tormentor some sort of insight into her subconscious that might then in turn be used against her to extract yet more information. Then again, consider this: How about a trainee nurse been placed in charge of our suffering young woman, who in turn has been instructed by her nemesis - the young woman psychiatrist under who’s strict disciplinary ‘care’ she bristles – that she must lead the nurse, step-by-step, through some humiliating procedure being carried out on her person. The trainee nurse will then be tested and any failure in her knowledge paid for by several strokes of the cane – but not laid across the nurse’s backside, but rather across our hapless patient’s bottom.
Monday 12 April 2010
Our Institution Girl: Should We Put Her Back in Nappies?
Tuesday 9 March 2010
Yet More Pyjama Spanking - And Even a Hint of Enforced Weight-Gain
Actually, it has been surprising just how much interest there has been in the whole pyjama concept and so, thanks to an anonymous contributor who wrote to tip me off, I have today added a link in the sidebar blog list to 'Girls Pyjama Spanking'. I couldn't resist taking a quick gander and found it to be a fascinating blog, the most recent posting featuring a marvellous little photo set based around a delectable little thing called Kami Robertson. Needless to say I also couldn't resist having a quick Google around her name looking for more examples and of course I got sidetracked, but in so doing was led to the work of an artist that I hadn't come across before called Kami Tora, see the art work above left - just click on it to see more of his work or look out for the link in the 'Useful Resources' section of the right-hand sidebar. Of course I then had to Google for a bit more of this artist's work which in turn lead to yet another diversion and the evocative little photo, below on the right - I have yet to visit the site it originated from - WWW.nurse-helena.fr - in fact I dare not as I just know that I would get totally sidetracked and get absolutely nothing done for the rest of the day.
So from this point all it's back to the grindstone, although it is not all been frivolous Web surfing today. To go back to the 'Girls Pyjama Spanking' blog again, just for the moment; I came across a comment posted by blog's writer as regards the featured pyjama-clad girl saying something along the lines of how, despite one particular pair looking perhaps a little large on her, nevertheless once the girl was bent over her " perfectly round bum filled them gloriously ". Of course the depicted pyjamas are nothing like the baggy shapeless green and white stripey institutional things I envisage our heroine, in but it was that bit about her bum filling them that " gloriously" that got me thinking. There is a similarity to a certain piece of dialogue that I've been working on over the last couple of days, just something that the institution's psychiatrist mentions about wanting to see the girl in her charge " fill out those pyjamas". I've been thinking that what with the girl only possessing that one pair that the doctor has given her and being confined either to the doctor's office - where she is questioned day in day out - or the little room that leads off of it, with the minimal facilities that implies, several weeks or perhaps a couple of months in to her residency those pyjamas are unlikely to feel so fresh on. When she is informed that her guardian will be paying her a visit in addition to the humiliation engendered by her appearance she is horrified by the way that woman will perceive her personal hygiene.
By now the shapeless pyjama bottoms no longer fit quite so loosely around her waist hips and bottom and despite any misgivings she may have regarding her blossoming figure she has at least cheered by the fact that she no longer has to continually struggle to keep them from falling around her ankles - something she would find particularly humiliating in front of her hated guardian. One can imagine the relief when she is reassured by the doctor that in return for some new level of co-operation she will be rewarded with a nice fresh crisp clean pair - then comes the dilemma. The good doctor lets slip that the only pair available in the girl's size are the ones she has one - the nice new clean pair she holds up in front of the girl are a good couple of sizes too large. If she wants to wear these in front of her visitor she can but with this privilege comes a price; she must bend for six strokes of the doctor's cane across her bare behind just prior to meeting her visitor. She must also accept the equally baggy and shapeless bloomers that come with the new pyjamas and which of course, like the pyjamas, are also devoid of waist elastic or any other method of fastening at the waist. She has been told many many times that pyjama cords, lengths of elastic and the like can present a danger to psychiatric patients - the implication is not lost on her and the tedium of having to constantly walk around holding up her pyjama trousers and now her underwear keeps that thought ever fresh and in the front of her mind. She has a choice but there is a deep element of humiliation attached to either. In addition there is the bitter humiliation of the meeting itself haunting her; she is told that she is to greet her guardian pleasantly and politely, she is to thank the woman for being kind enough to visit her, she had to say how well she is being looked after in the hospital and how thankful she is for being under the good doctor's care. She also has to recite in detail the long list of ways her therapy is benefiting her - a list ingrained by hour upon hour of tedious line writing impositions under the doctor's supervision - and how at home she is now beginning to feel in the institution. The latter is not entirely an untruth given her months of isolation and almost constant indoctrination at the hands of a skilled psychologist. Throughout, she is told, she must sit up straight with her hands on her head, listening without comment to everything her guardian has to say. If given certain papers and documents to sign she is to do so without question or hesitation. The doctor is going to be present throughout the visit and any failing on the girl's part will earn her six strokes of the doctor's cane across her bare buttocks in front of her visitor and another six strokes later on, once her visitor has left, followed by a prolonged period of isolation locked in the cramped little anteroom with just the hospital bed and desk for company..And a surprisingly subtle punishment of the doctor's own devising of which I shall say no more for fear of giving too much away.
See you later, folks. PS: don't forget, the beer drinkers amongst you, that is the London Beer Festival at Camden Town Hall on Wednesday Thursday and Friday of this week, though I'm not sure yet which day I shall attend.
Friday 26 February 2010
Gym Suits, Punishment PT (see lower down entry) and an Update (see top of entry)
Yesterday was largely swallowed up by gym work, my driving lesson and family obligations although I did fit in three coffee bar breaks through the day during which a managed a little work on my 'netbook' computer. The day before, the day after the repair, after ascertaining that all was now running correctly I dealt with the issue regarding my printer/ scanner which had been ongoing since the problem I encountered earlier in the year with one of the computer's cooling fans (or drooling fans, as my voice recognition software package would have it; ha ha!). That particular incident also involved MS Windows being unexpectedly shut down (several times) and as the aforementioned peripheral had not been switched on at the time I hadn't suspected any hardware complication. And so it turned out; simply reloading the 'drivers' solved the problem. So there you have it -In short; I am now fully operational again, in all respects.
If one takes the gym suit (above right) as it stands as being just a basic template, then one can start to visualise the effects of incorporating certain features and choice of fabrics. For example, even as it stands, although it is true that the bottom is well covered, the bloomer-style legs allow scope for leaving the back of the thighs available, allowing the young woman to be encouraged in her exertions by the application of the palm of the hand or the riding crop. Then there is possibly a humiliating element already inherent in the design of the garment in that it has a passing resemblance to a childish romper suit and perhaps more could be made of this aspect - for example as it stands is plenty of room to allow for the inclusion of a diaper and plastic pants beneath - although personally I would concentrate on enhancing the snugness of fit. Finally although, as admitted, the buttocks are modestly covered and therefore protected to some degree, this protection could be ameliorated to some degree by an imaginative choice of fabric or a tweaking of the design while still maintaining that element of modesty that, juxtaposed with the situation within which the garment is worn, ironically adds to the element of humiliation.
Well, there you have it, the bare bones of an idea. Now, anyone out there suitably inspired to flesh out those bones? Or do you envisage your young ladies bending and jumping and sweating in sheer close fitting leotards or as naked as the day they were born? Don't be shy in letting me know your thoughts, ideas and criticisms; it is what this blog is supposed all about.
Wednesday 17 February 2010
Nurses and Straitjackets
Friday 5 February 2010
Interviews and Interrogations
Hi Folks, I'm still here, stuck in
.....
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.
.....
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.
Friday 29 January 2010
Filmic Inspiration, a Blog and a YouTube Link
By the way; is punishment PT / enforced PE and physical drill discipline is your thing? It is? Great! then click on the film poster top left to see a clip from the above movie posted on YouTube. You can also find a link to the same film clip in the useful resources list in the right-hand sidebar. The pictures scattered around this posting came from various sources on the web and all from the film other than the last one which comes from an entirely different source (actually the French film, Alphavillel). This I included simply because I think it would make a good basis for a suitable reformatory uniform, certainly a good starting point to work around anyway, particularly for the inmates of the type of old-fashioned style church-run regime that I envisage in the new volume. In the behavioural research establishment of course the regime is more closely based around an old-fashioned private girls school, though the discipline imposed is no less rigorous, despite the inmates theoretically being 'volunteers' and there were talking all high, tight starched collars, cotton interlock knickers and tightly braided pigtails.
Oh! I almost forgot: I have just added a blog to the blog list in the sidebar called 'School Girl Discipline'. Click to visit or see the link in the sidebar. See you next time.
Wednesday 16 December 2009
A Kind Comment Received and a Bit about the Next Book
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.
Wednesday 2 December 2009
More on Admission Procedures and Institutionalised Punishment
Thursday 26 November 2009
Web Problems and Admission Procedures
Sunday 18 October 2009
Referring to Written Impositions, a Link
Thursday 8 October 2009
More on Non-Corporal Punishment / Discipline
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.
Tuesday 6 October 2009
Non-Corporal Punishment, Written Impositions and a Trip Back to The West End
Monday 20 April 2009
Commentaries, Comments, Opinions & Proof Reading
On the subject of commentaries and comments; another anonymous contributor has left a new and fascinating comment on the previous post "Dietary Discipline, Harassment Therapy & Sexual Reorientation – A Reader’s Account Revisited (Part 2) (Click here to read the comment) or go to the bottom of the article and click on link - it really is worth reading: There is a part about a hapless young woman being placed under legal guardianship and thus placed quite legally under the authority of another, that, being directly related to one of the events occurring in the upcoming INSTITUTIONALISED volume 2, very much belongs under the heading of 'truth stranger than fiction'!
Saturday 18 April 2009
Dietary Discipline, Harassment Therapy & Sexual Reorientation – A Reader’s Account Revisited (Part 2)
Dietary Discipline and Sexual Aversion Therapy – An account: Part Two
It wasn't until recently that I began to understand how this mis-diagnosis might have occurred. They had asked me who initiated the kiss and I had refused to say. If they had also asked Caroline and she had lied then my silence may have been seen as the next best thing to a confession. Goose cooked." But back to your questions (in italics - Garth):
"Particularly interesting to me (and I think, the readers out there) was all the disciplinary procedures and petty rules you mentioned regarding food chewing and swallowing etc - as regards the nurse/therapist using touch to either cheek or the chin to control the patient. presumably overtime this would have a conditioning effect on the subject. As regards the latter I would be most interested to learn whether spoken orders were given to accompany the signals, or perhaps they were initially but were no longer required after some time?"
"From my own experience, and from observing others, we were given initial instructions on what we must do, but after that verbal communication was kept to a minimum, and, if required, would usually result in demerits. Now, admittedly, the nurses were more lenient with the 'regular' patients on the ward who were generally less able, and in some cases, very much less able, to follow instructions. But the 'deviants' on the ward were expected to understand and obey after being instructed one time. Interestingly, some of the bibs incorporated a kind of hood that would go over the patient's head, but left the mouth uncovered - and these bibs had instructions printed on them in the appropriate places to assist the nurses in remembering the correct instructions. However they were rarely used - perhaps because the nurses needed no such reminder or perhaps more likely because they liked to be able see our faces as we ate - ensuring that we kept our expressions impassive and our eyes downcast - looking at the 'food' yet to be eaten. Showing any form of distaste or emotion during our 'meals' was a serious infraction.
The nurses, on the other hand, usually wore surgical masks while they were feeding us, and I have often wondered whether this somehow reduced the food's unpleasant odour or whether it was just one more way in which they reduced communication - you cannot see the nurse's facial expression when she is wearing a surgical mask. Not that we were allowed to look at the nurses directly anyway, but . . .
Additionally we were required to always breathe through our noses instead of our mouths. This was especially true while we were eating - something we found irksome because the smell was often quite unpleasant and it smelt even worse when we used our noses."
"The use of the metronome I found very interesting; in my mind's eye I can see a line of girls all chewing in unison to the tick-tock rhythm - perhaps glassy eyed?"
"I never saw this happen though I think it's something they might have implemented if there had been enough nurses to feed us all at the same time. Of course if they had allowed us to feed ourselves then it might have been practicable - and maybe they could have implemented it for those not on a strict feeding regimen - i.e. those that did feed themselves. As it was, feeding for those of us on a feeding regimen tended to be staggered, with just one or two of us being fed at a time. But speaking of the metronome - I wish that it had been used all the time because it was hard to keep the proper rhythm without it. Firstly we had to maintain a constant rhythm throughout and secondly the rhythm had to be the same as the standard set by the metronome - something hard to remember after a week or two. But thirdly you had to hope that the nurse was also correctly assessing your rhythm - something I am quite sure they didn't always do, resulting in undeserved demerits. And eating demerits could result in a more strict eating regimen and/or less desirable foodstuffs. My biggest problem was eating in a smooth manner - and remembering to count at the same time. Since the required rhythm was a bit slower than my normal manner of eating I tended to close may jaw, pause, open my jaw and then pause again. This was considered unsatisfactory - the required movement was more fluid - close your jaw slowly, open your jaw slowly. No pauses, just a slow and fluid motion - but something that I had the greatest trouble perfecting. But as they say, practice makes perfect - eventually.
If we were lucky we were allowed to drink from a straw - but the nurses also had contraptions that could be fastened in our mouths and drained water (or other liquids) into us from a small overhead feed. They also had syringe-like instruments that could flood us with large quantities of liquid up squirted directly up our noses - another very unpleasant procedure that ensured that we tried to please the nurses who were already agitated by the tedium of feeding us.
"As far as you are able to recall; was hypnosis in any form of the used?"
"No - not that I ever saw, though other girls may have been hypnotised during their therapy sessions. But I have no way to know. Of course it's possible that I was hypnotised and have no memory of it, but I have no reason to think so. Do you have reason to think that it might have been a normal procedure - and what might it do?" What do you think, reader's? Garth.
"In terms of lesbianism was aversion therapy of any form used? On the other hand, considering the manipulated results and dubious diagnosis was any possibility of an experimental use of 'negative' therapy being given? Here I am drawing a parallel with the so-called 'monster study' that I've talked about in the blog and in which (in the 1930s) speech deficits were deliberately induced using a mixture of suggestion and constant reinforcement by therapists and teachers (a potentially useful tool for overcoming stubborn argumentative resistance in the initial stages of a strict disciplinary regime)."
"Yes. The use of aversion therapy to change my sexual orientation was the central point of the program. At the time it was talked about as if it were an established procedure, but in retrospect I see that it was probably still quite experimental and we might well have been guinea pigs as much as patients.
There were two main aversives that I remember. Electric shocks and drugs to induce nausea, Electric shocks and the nausea inducing drugs seem to feature heavily in the literature and I also remember hearing about the use of rotting placenta as an unpleasant odour - not in my study, but another, so it sounds as if there was some variation in the aversives used. I imagine that the particular aversive is not as important as that it be 'unpleasant', and presumably the more unpleasant the better.
I have read a number of papers that talk about the use of aversives for correction of sexual deviance and they all talk as if the electric shock is little more than an annoyance, but I can vouch for the fact that, at least in my case, the shocks were sufficiently strong to cause extreme pain and caused me to pass out on many occasions. The shocks were usually applied to my inner thighs, but other places were used too. Sometimes they were applied through the measurement instrument inserted in my vagina. It doesn't take much imagination to realize that applying shocks directly to the vagina is going to distort the 'response' of that organ - just another example of rank stupidity - or something. The nausea inducing drugs were not used so often - probably because I was kept gagged through most of these sessions and vomiting would have been dangerous. In fact, I was usually 'fasted' and forced to vomit up any stomach contents prior to each aversion session to avoid any possibility of vomiting.
There is one more thing that I wanted to clarify because I think I may have been guilty of somewhat misleading you. But I was still too embarrassed to be totally honest. To wit, there was slightly more to the initial calibration of my baseline than I let on. Very briefly, there was some intervention on the part of the staff. Specifically, Nurse ******* (one of the few names I remember), a very young and, I admit, extremely attractive nurse was tasked with bringing me to orgasm while I watched the slide-show of lesbian activity. Judging by her uniform I think she was still a student nurse. My introduction was very gradual and respectful, and it wasn't until what must have been our 10th session or so that I had my first orgasm. Then, over the course of another 10 sessions or so, with the continued 'assistance' of Nurse Aston, it seems that my baseline was established. She was quite 'proper' about it, and there was never anything as overt as taking clothes off. However she did put her tongue in my ear - very charmingly I might add, kiss me on the lips and use her fingers quite dexterously. I think it is probably safe to say that I developed an enormous crush on 'my' nurse and she, I'm sure, did everything she could to encourage my slavish adoration. I imagined her to be my friend (after all, I had no others) - and I'm sure she encouraged that thought too, though looking back there was little or no practical demonstration of it besides kindness. My adoration wasn't even diminished when I became aware of her giving the signal to begin the terrible electric shocks that always followed my orgasm - even during these baseline sessions. I imagine, that while they were anxious to measure my baseline, they were also anxious not to make the experience entirely pleasurable - or some such mixed up thinking. After all, I was there to be cured of lesbianism, not turned into one (but I have my doubts about that - Garth) - so they no doubt had to be a little careful.
After that she disappeared from my life for a while, which, I remember, upset me a great deal. I remember crying a good deal over it. When she returned into my life, many months later, now apparently a fully fledged nurse, my heart was fit to burst, but she quickly broke it into a trillion pieces. Her manner was incredibly cold and uncaring - and she made it clear that she despised me for my 'perversion', making it abundantly clear by words and actions, over and over again, that I had been an absolute fool and that she had [ cared for me not one jot]. Indeed she made it quite apparent that she had always despised me and that what she had done previously had 'made her sick.' That episode did more than anything to break me.
Today I wonder how much of it was deliberate. I can quite believe that my therapist decided to break my heart by assigning 'my' nurse to perform the operation. But I can't quite bring myself to believe that they had that eventual smashing of my heart in mind when they first assigned Nurse ***** to help me with my baseline. But a part of me wonders whether that might have been the plan all along. To cause me fall in love with her and then break my heart. If that is what happened then my therapist must have been the coldest and cruellest person on this earth.