A Huriedly Published Contributed Treatise on Victorian Discipline

A contributor, who for the moment must remain anonymous, has sent in this lovely little vignette on blameless incarceration and discipline. Although not directly related to any of the plot lines I have developed for the INSTITUTIONALISED series so far - and the development I have planned for the future - nevertheless it has to be said that it successfully captures something of the essence of the work. This is a quite, quite brilliant little outline. A gorgeous little treatise on discipline...words fail me. I found it far to exciting not to share it with you all without delay and I'm sure it'll inspire many of you in one way or another (hopefully to contribute some ideas / writing of your own...and I wasn't even going to make a blog entry today - I should be off to the gym right now, then off down the pub straight after. Well that had been my plan but something will have to be sacrificed - and I fear it will be the gym! Mind you, I will be working on those last few finishing touches for vol 2...and one or two ideas for the further development of vol 3. If you fancy a chat and a pint and you are in north London, I will be in the Spaniard's Inn, Hampstead and then, in the early evening, The Turnpike (Weatherspoons) at Turnpike Lane. Think Long curly hair and scribbling and you won't be far wrong.
Now read on...

.....

The length of the sentence of a female prison reformer who requests incarceration in order to gain greater insight into her work may seem simple. But once servitude begins even the clearest case of "voluntary" incarceration can quickly dissolve into a morass of ambiguity and legal confusion.

At first glance it would appear that since the woman has committed no crime she should be permitted to leave the reformatory whenever she wishes. Indeed, why should her egress from the prison be any more restricted than it was during her numerous previous visits, when she visited the institution not as a prisoner, but as a lady, and a guest?

However upon due consideration prudence demands that a sentence of some sort be set. Forms must be filled out and papers filed. Upon admission personal property must be surrendered and boxed, and a medical exam must be conducted for the safety of all. Procedures require schedules, and schedules require dates and times. It is clear that some sort of minimum sentence, even if it is only for a few days, is essential.

The paradox lies in the fact that while such a sentence may specify a MINIMUM, it does not conversely guarantee a MAXIMUM. Once ensconced inside the prison the young lady in question will be subject to the same rules as the other inmates. Upon her admission her clothing and personal belongings will be confiscated and boxed. She will be sheared, searched, and disinfected as if she were the lowliest of guttersnipes. This is as it must be, for discipline must be maintained, and the law is the law.

In her new role as prisoner our society lady will be subject to corporal punishment for the tinniest infraction. What "crimes" would warrant punishment? Did she clean her plate at dinner? Did she look askance at one of her betters? Did she object to the presence of the warden and his leering, smiling friends (several of whom she had once rejected as suitors) laughing and joking as she was searched, showered, and "processed?"

No matter! Any misdemeanor, no matter how trivial, will undoubtedly lead to an increase in the prisoner's sentence. And since such sentences will be administrative rather than judicial, they will be imposed summarily without trial, legal representation, or any possibility of appeal.

Even if her conduct is exemplary and her manner docile and submissive a much longer stay may, sadly, prove to be inevitable. It is the warden's solemn duty to keep all prisoners incarcerated until he is fully satisfied as to the appropriateness of their conduct and the completeness of their correction. Such a thoughtful deliberation may require weeks, months, or even years.
As for the matter of correction, would it be just to release any miscreant before she has felt a single stripe from the strap or the cane across her naughty bottom? Can any young woman claim to truly understand the Victorian reformatory system before she has tasted the bit between her teeth, and been strapped down over the whipping bench, with her bottom raised bare and high for discipline? Although she has admittedly committed no crime, should she be denied the benefits of a just and wholesome correction because of a mere legal technicality?

Fortunately, this is one quandary that can be easily solved. If we accept that the lady cannot be released until she has experienced a truly bracing punishment then the warden must postpone her release until some minuscule infraction of the rules makes such a correction necessary. However, if a punishment is necessary to effect a release while the infraction that would lead to the punishment triggers a lengthy increase in sentence (or cause an indefinite postponement) one can sense the dilemma the young lady faces.

It is of no great concern. Such paradoxes are amusing trifles, best left to trained legal minds. It is best for the young lady to concentrate on the salutatory effects of her just correction, and minding the commands of her betters. After all, she may find herself there a very long time.

Corsets, Corseletes Leg-Braces and Imprisonment

A good prison uniform begins with a good imprisoning restrictive example of the corsetiere's art - and dosn't that rosy blush make her look suitably submissively embarrassed (as well she should be). . This example is taken from Staylace.com, a marvelous source of pics, writing and all things corsetry (click on image to visit). Although it must be said that I for one prefer to envisage something more akin to the good old fashioned corselet for my girls - and adapted to make even more restrictive, particularly for the classroom: think backboards and the like. Its all good discipline.

I have been doing a bit more work on INSTITUTIONALISED volume 2 over the last few days and the completed work now amounts to around 200 pages and a little over 104,000 words. I thought you might be teased just a little by a snippet of something I have been working on today - its very short simply because the parts before and immediately following in it would give too much away about a little plot twist I have been brewing up and even then, I have had to edit a bit out toward the end to hide a crucial detail. It has yet to be properly proofread so there may be errors of grammar etc -my apologies if so.

Please let me know what you think. By the way, other snippets from volume 2 - and also from volume 1 - can be found way back in the blog archive, particularly within the earliest entries (see side bar).

.....

A Vignette Whipped Straight from INSTITUTIONALISED Volume 2

If only he could have seen her at that moment, stood in the corner of the doctor’s room with arms stiffly at her sides and her legs framed uselessly in callipers. Would he have run to her with concern and compassion burning in his heart, taken her in his arms meaning to whisk her away from there? Or would the mere sight of the angrily-swollen, criss-cross basket-weave of red imprinted on those helplessly-bared and oh so vulnerable buttocks have been enough to inflame a very different passion?
And if not, what of the more recent, horizontally overlaid, gridiron-branding of pinky-width flaming scarlet; would the sight of that have been enough to twist his best intentions? Expertly drafted from the very uppermost curving slopes of that tight, almost heart-shaped little bottom and extending to near-on halfway down the backs of those milk-cream thighs, until where finally curtailed by the intervention of the girl’s leg-brace straps; right at this very moment in time these were so fresh as to be actually visibly throbbing. What with those still-developing wheals and the local involuntarily twitching of muscle fibres sending little patches of soft girl-flesh, alternatively tautening and relaxing, dancing bewitchingly across the surface of that peachy behind of hers – what with all of that in the background, if he had been asked at that moment whether he might perhaps prefer her kept there after all…what would have been his answer?
What of the girl herself? What of young Meredith Hewson? A young woman so well shielded from reality, his reality, any reality, as to inhabit, for the most part, a shadowy self-built world of uncertainly-flitting phantasms and constructed of self-doubt and inconsistency - what care could she have that someone, somewhere, searched; even if that searcher was her ex-lover? As crushed as she felt at that moment, she would only have viewed it as false hope – for surely her situation was beyond hope.
After was said and done, she had thought herself safe, here in hospital. But they had let her down; he had still got to her, the old man, that old church-man from her nightmares, the priest or whatever he was. But they were not nightmares, were they? They never had been; they were memories pure and simple - as unlikely as that might seem - she was certain of it. Just as she was certain that he had come to her - just when she was at her most powerless to resist, strapped down, bent over from the waist waiting for her examination and X-ray and left so open and vulnerable with her legs spread wide and immobilised in those awful leg callipers they kept her in.
Of course she hadn’t actually seen him, how could she have, strapped face down like that? But surely they could have seen the physical evidence in front of their own eyes. Not satisfied with anally raping her he had viciously taken a cane to her defenceless bottom prior to the act – just as he had always taken that heavy leather strap of his to her in the parsonage to “beat the devil” from her before he would take her from behind. Besides, they had cameras just about everywhere; someone somewhere must have seen it all.
Yet they denied that anything had been seen, denied the existence of the frenzied web of burning cane-lines she could feel blazing agonizingly across her backside, even denied that she had been left alone for much longer than a minute or so – a period ridiculously too brief for the events of which she complained of to have occurred in.
It had all been in her head, just as all of that other stuff she seemed to remember had been fabricated in her head – and surely the very existence of those security cameras only went to underline the truth of that statement. She had just been in a car crash, an accident, that was all – they said so, constantly. All those other things had just been delusions and dreams, wicked dreams…dreams that she had no right to have, that had to be eradicated, that she had to have therapy for…that she had to be punished for. It was all for her own good.
Here was a personality folding in on itself - day by day, week by week and month by month. Psychologically, she was nowhere now that he would recognise - not that her physical surroundings would match more closely his common experience in any case. The ‘squeaky bouncy little thing’ of old was stood here now, a quiet, hunched and mouse-like little thing – quenched indeed.
But was that really so surprising? After all, she had just been caned by her therapist, by a woman doctor, in front of two waiting nurses as witnesses and simply for having just previously been caned by someone else; or so it seemed. She had just been caned for having been caned, for daring to complain about having been caned and anally abused - or rather for sticking to her conviction, for refusing to admit that she was deluded, that she was in fact mentally ill.

They had carte blanche over her. It was a dream come true for any possessed of her carer’s predilections - besides, her presence attracted substantial funding…and from an impeccable source.

An Intriguing, Inspiring and Stimulating Film to Watch on YouTube

Hi Folks. A contributor has written in to recommend a film series available on YouTube that has certain elements in common with the spirit at least of the INSTITUTIONALISED series. I have been working on putting together volume 2 today and it is at present up to 189 pages of completed and checked work. For this reason I have had little time to devote to making blog posts of late and consequently I am primarily acting as editor in this instance.

He writes: “I know you're interested in Victorian prisons, and I've always enjoyed moth-to-the-flame stories where upper-crust heroines go slumming and get a bit more than they bargained for. There are some interesting clips on YouTube that have elements of both.

AFFINITY (click here to view series on YouTube) is the story prim and proper Victorian goody-goody, Miss Margaret Pryor, visits Millbrook prison for women. It is a Gothic romance about spiritualism and a lesbian relationship developing between the visitor and one of the inmates, and that is the primary story.
However, Miss Haskby, the cruel crone who runs the prison (and some of the guards) clearly do not like to the prissy Margaret, and constantly make sly references to their starched “lady visitor” being a prisoner:

Some interesting [sections] [The numbers refer to the episodes and the time references can be used to jump straight to the section quoted - Garth]:

1: 3 minutes into episode 1, Miss Haskby makes a sly reference that Margaret has “timed her arrival well.” At 5:30 the matron giving her the tour slams a cell door shut, making poor Margaret visibly nervous. When Margaret asks her to open it, she waits several meaningful seconds before replying.

2: 3 minutes into this episode, she is shocked to watch as the new prisoners are processed:

4: About 2 minutes in, she is shocked when a guard uses her arm to cut her off and warns her that some of the inmates have "pals" if you know what I mean. "Don't let them make a pal out of you, Miss" she says, much to Margret's shock!

About 9 minutes into episode 4 she witnesses a punishment (solitary). When she protests that it is “barbaric” Miss Haskby asks her to her office to “review her progress.” She is shocked to find that the matrons are reporting on her…

5: At 6:15 into this episode, she finds that she can’t visit her friend, so the female matron asks if she wants to tour another section of the prison. “I’m in your hands, Mrs. Jelf” she replies submissively. The guard shows her where they store the inmate uniforms (“all sizes”) and remarks (to our lady’s shocked distress) that “these would fit you, I think.”

6: At the beginning of this episode, she imagines her girlfriends being hosed down in the shower.

8: 8 minutes in, a guard threatens to incarcerate her for helping a prisoner. “Then it will be your turn for correction. We like having ladies here at Millbank,” she threatens.

There are a lot of references like this scattered throughout the show, and it’s clear that Margaret is both repulsed and drawn to the prison. It’s a different story, of course, and the emphasis is the lesbian relationship, not corporal punishment.”

As for myself; I have not had much time, what with one thing and another, to look through all of the episodes but I did have a look at episode 5, the part dealing with the prison uniforms, and have to admit to having gotten quite a thrill from the part where the matron says "these would fit you, I think." and the woman's taken aback reaction. Then there is the part a little further in in which the prisoner's wedding ring is produced from her stored belongings "quite black now I'm afraid" with the implication that she is married (or was, one suspects) and what that comment says about how long she has been there - and how long she will remain. Although no actual term is explicitly mentioned - I like that implication of 'indefinance' (if such a word exists - and if it doesn't, then it should. ie an implication of an indefinite sentence - something I am fascinated by, particularly if unjust and corruption is involved in the imprisonment in the first place.) . There is also that atmosphere, the slamming iron gates and jangling keys...lovely.

It is the sort of atmosphere I would try and recreate for my girls; albeit in the world of today (or recent past) with all the modern medical facility trappings of an experimental psychology department, it is something I have tried to evoke as somehow being retained there.

The contributor goes on to say: “I would be interested to see a story thread where a society lady visits the workhouse in the guise of a reformer, and becomes fascinated with the place. She asks to be admitted for a brief stay, arguing that she can't help the girls unless she truly understands their plight. Of course once in, to her shock she discovers that she is in fact just another prisoner, with the psychology that implies, and that it is easier to get in than out...”

I have to say that I do like many elements of that particular scenario – there is much inspiration to be had there and that phrase about it being “easier to get in than out” is very close to something that I write in the early stages of volume 2 when referring to certain young lady volunteers having found themselves ensconced in a residential experimental psychology programme running in what amounts to little more than a refurbished Victorian asylum. To quote myself “…like other volunteer subjects that have gone before them, they now share in the knowledge that it is not going to be quite so easy to leave as it had been to join!”

And the pic at the top? Just something that caught my eye...and that screams REFORMATORY and brings out that cruel streak Perfect for a few years out, in the life of the young lady of your choice - you decide just how many years.

Anyway, check out the film and enjoy! Meanwhile I’ll be sweating over the last few missing paragraphs of vol 2…Don’t worry about me…I’ll be alright…I think….But I don’t ‘alf need a drink about now!!!

An Added Comment: A Harsh Regime, An Update & Some More YahooGroups to Peruse

By necessity (as much as I like to ramble) I Have to keep things brief today - I have been talked into doing a little desk research for my deadline-panicked fashionista-journalist partner. Friday and part of Saturday was spent piecing together the various completed chapters of INSTITUTIONALISED volume 2 (INSTITUTIONALISED volume 1 here) into book form (interrupted on Sat by a little 'mystery-shopper' activity). I am pleased to say that, so far, it all seems to be coming together in a nice logical order. It is only at this stage that continuity errors start to show up in the story telling and inconsistencies start to show up but so far it has only been necessary to make a couple of little chronological rearrangements to the way the proceedings flow (quite minor). I have identified a few areas requiring a bit of further writing but so far this seems restricted to a couple of paragraphs here and there and a bit of descriptive work vis-a-vie the girl's uniforms (deliberately left to this point - its the dangling carrot you see; well that and the massive piss-up I've promised myself at the end of all this).

Meanwhile: I have just added links to another 7 or so YahooGroups that I think are worth visiting (of course you have to be signed up for yahoo groups or willing to sign up, but its worth it - there are some great resources there). The pic here, in fact, came from one of these (Da Chief's Spanking Zone). Look to the right hand side-bar for the links (just below my blog list).

Oh...and a nice little comment has been posted to the entry, A Well Deserved regime, (click to read post and comment). Many thanks go to the contributor - very nice...if somewhat harsh (not that there is anything wrong with a good, harsh regime of course).

Finally: Shortly I shall be creating a section in the sidebar with a list of links to the introduction to INSTITUTIONALISED volume 1 and also to all the snippets I have posted from that volume and also from the upcoming volume 2 and that have now disappeared into the mists of the early archived posts from this blog - and are thus are probably being entirely missed by most new visitors.

By for now and thanks for coming by,

Garth

An Addendum, a Little Bit of Powdered Water & TeethBraces

Its snowing here in BritLand...and the world as we know it has ground to a halt. Not too much of a hindrance to your's truly - I don't actually do much in any case. Besides, I'm able to press on with adding the final touches to the book...well in theory at least, although a chunk of today was used up helping the other half with a bit of fashion research - as it was in to lingerie trends, I have to admit to being not too reluctant. Then I quickly turned my attention to the blog and to Judith's tale that I posted up a couple of entries ago (See: a Well Deserved Regime?...or click here). I remembered Judith from the 'White Socks' dress discipline discussion board that I used to read for inspiration and that I have mentioned more than once in the past on the pages of this site. Anyway, today I had the chance to look up the original posting I made of one of her letters...well worth reading if dress discipline is your thing - and it is part and parcel of so many forms of disciplinary regime as applied to recalcitrant young ladies after all...click here to read.

Finally, as regards young ladies in teeth braces - something I have mentioned before in connection with the deliberate induction of stammering and the erosion of the subject's self confidence - some time ago someone was kind enough to send me the following series of ideas for plot directions etc. I have somehow divorced the main meat of the email, as it were, from the email itself and thus from the writer's identity - so to the writer...my apologies and of course my assurance that I'm more than happy to credit you with this if you make contact. Meanwhile I'm sure it will stimulate many more ideas out there:

"I was interested in your post on braces. Adult braces are an emerging trend, and more and more young professional women are wearing them. It certainly can make a woman look younger, which can be both a pro and a con. Have you ever considered a scenario involving an adult woman who got braces BEFORE visiting the institution?

Perhaps a young woman in her late twenties is persuaded to get braces by a scheming uncle, who then uses the change in her appearance to undermine her authority with the household staff and at her job so he can steal her company and her inheritance.

Or perhaps a young woman working on her PhD is distressed to learn that with braces none of her students take her seriously. Her academic adviser suggests a place where she’ll be free to write her dissertation without looking out of place: the academy.

Image a fast track assistant Principal being demoted to a teachers aid when students and parents refuse to take her authority seriously. A number of the female teachers, eager to pay her back for her haughty manner, suggest that it might create less “confusion” in the classroom if she wore a school uniform.

Or perhaps a successful stock broker looses the key to her locker at her health club. No one believes her true age, except a fellow club member who’s had her eye on her for some time…and offers to take the troublesome young delinquent wearing nothing but braces and a towel off the securities staff’s hand by whisking her off to the academy.

I think these sorts of scenarios are more dramatic because the adult woman makes an active decision that results in her own downfall. Indeed, it’s her arrogance and boundless self confidence that allows her to convince herself that the braces won’t matter and that she’ll be able to maintain her total control over things regardless of her appearance.

When things start to fall apart, she blames herself for her stupid mistake, but that only undermines her confidence more. She is surprised when her dentist refuses to take her braces off, and dismisses her complaints as “silly” and “childish.” Her loss of confidence feeds her loss of stature further, creating a downward spiral she finds impossible to break…"

One Girl's Pyjama Discipline

Hi again folks. following on from Judith's captivating story, I have been sent this fascinating contribution from a female reader, to whom many thanks - it all helps take a little pressure off yours truly while I struggle to complete volume 2. It is also very inspiring and the latter tale does have a taste of the frustration engendered by those hospital issue latex incontinence bloomers that Susan finds herself placed in within the pages of INSTITUTIONALISED volume 1, with their neat little integral key operated locking waistband. Perhaps its time for some proper purpose designed locking pyjamers - nicely latex-lined where it matters and fasting with a locking zipper at the back of the neck?

"Reading Judith's story brought back memories of my own punishment, in particular one of the last occasions I was punished at home.

One evening shortly after I had left school I went out with a couple of girlfriends to a local music festival without telling my parents, knowing very well they would not approve and would probably forbid me to go. We had a fantastic time and met up with a couple of boys who took us for a drive in their car. I knew it was getting late and I was under strict instructions to be home by midnight, but lost track of time and before I knew it realized that it was already way past the time I should have been home. I tried to ask the others to drop me off but they didn’t take any notice at first. I knew I would be in big trouble if anyone heard me coming in, so tried to creep in through the garage when I eventually arrived home but unfortunately my parents were waiting up for me. I tried to apologize but my mother simply told me to go straight to bed, adding that she would deal with me in the morning. I was hardly able to sleep, dreading having to face my mother in the morning.

I decided the best thing would be to appease my parents by getting up early and helping with the horses so quickly got dressed in a sweater and jodhpurs and went out before breakfast to start clearing up the stable yard. After a while, my mother came out demanding to know where I had been the previous evening. I told her we had been given a lift and had broken down, but it was obvious she didn’t believe me.

“It’s pyjama time for you, young lady,” she said. “You can’t say you haven’t been warned. Go in and get undressed. I’ll be up in ten minutes.”

I knew she meant me to wear the pyjamas she always made my sister or I wear whenever we were punished. They were a pair of old school pyjamas she had sewn together at the waist. To make matters worse, they had to be worn back to front so that they buttoned up at the back, making them difficult to remove without help. It was so degrading and I really hated having to wear them. Sometimes my mother would make me stay dressed like that that for a whole day, locking the rest of my clothes away so I couldn’t wear anything else.

On this occasion however, I stood there in the yard refusing to do as instructed, pleading with my mother. “Please, mother. I’ve said I’m sorry. I really am. It won’t happen again, I promise.” It was futile to argue with her but the thought of such a degrading punishment was just too awful.

“Go and do as you are told or you will only make things worse for yourself,” was the inevitable response.

With tears of frustration in my eyes, I made my way indoors clinging to the hope that I might at least avoid a spanking if I complied. Back in my bedroom I decided to change back into the pyjamas I had been wearing earlier, again hoping my mother would accept that as punishment enough for a girl of my age. Undressing and pulling on my pyjamas again, I felt intensely silly as the sunlight streamed through the window. But I was also very scared. It had been nearly a year since I had last been punished with a spanking and I hated it, not just the pain but the awful humiliation.

Of course my mother was having none of it when she eventually came in with the punishment pyjamas she kept specially for such occasions. With one look at me standing there in a pair of pretty pink satin pyjamas, she shook her head.

“It’s no good wearing those, my girl. Take them off, you know the rule.”

“No... Please mother… I'm eighteen now... You can't make me wear those horrible things any more.... Please…” I protested, but to no avail.

“Yes, you are, so you should know better. But if you behave like a little girl then you will be treated like one. Come on, do as you are told or else you will not be allowed out riding with us tomorrow....” My mother knew the threat would be enough. More than anything else, I had been looking forward to the hunt the following day and desperately did not want to miss it.

With a groan of despair, I obeyed. As I had done so many times in the past, I put on the pale green winceyette pyjamas that I had once worn at boarding school, except that the jacket and trousers had been sewn together and I had to put them on back to front so that I even had to wait while mother fastened the buttons up at the back, knowing just how ridiculous I must look in such a childish outfit. As soon as she had finished I had to leave my bedroom which was then locked to prevent me from getting at any of my clothes. Even my sister’s room was locked as well. I wasn’t even allowed any underwear, feeling cold and naked underneath the thin pyjama material.

“How long have I got to stay like this?” I asked wretchedly, wondering just how long it would be before my mother decided I had been punished enough.

“Until I say so,” came the usual reply. Dressed in those awful pyjamas, all I wanted to do was hide in the bathroom but I knew that if I went downstairs and helped with the housework I might be allowed to have my clothes back sooner than if I just stayed upstairs.

Looking back, it seems ridiculous that I submitted so meekly to such a degrading punishment but I so wanted to be allowed to join everyone the following day that I was prepared to endure anything to appease my mother. As it was, I remained in pyjamas for the rest of the day until supper when I was allowed to get dressed. More than anything, though, I dreaded the possibility anyone else seeing me like that. I think I would have died of shame."

A Well Deserved Regime?

A letter from Judith as regards her regime. Ordinarily I would respect a contributors anonymity...but under the circumstances...well, what do you think? Lets get a discussion going (particularly as the original discussion board to which she refers has pretty much met its demise). I'll have to sort out, or create, a suitable illustration later...unless any one out there already has something suitable to contribute. For now though, I off down the pub - I have more writing to do...nearly there now though!

Judith's Regime

I would like to start by explaining that my name is Judith and I wrote the article, a copy of which my Aunt found on this website. As you can see I am subject to some deserved disciplining. Since the time I wrote this I have again failed to meet my Aunt’s required standards of behavior and as part of my punishment she decided I should again be made to display my ill discipline and the consequences of this in public. Unfortunately when she returned to the original site she found some undesirable developments however somehow she also found the link to this site and she has ordered me to write out my humiliation here. I apologise if this is an inappropriate use of your site.
Shortly before Christmas my Aunt discovered I had been to a pub with work colleagues and had a drink – as you can see from my earlier disclosures this was completely forbidden. My Aunt therefore decided that as I could not be trusted to obey her outside that I would hence forth be disciplined by not only being dressed at home as a misbehaved school girl but that I would live this life at all times. I have therefore resigned my job as a Secretary and am subject to the following strict and deserved regime in which I am under constant and close supervision at all times. She has told me that I clearly did not learn the lessons when I was ten or eleven I will be subject to the experience again to provide me with this opportunity.
I wear school uniform at all times. Old style brown school knickers including a large size sanitary pad at all times, grey ribbed knee socks, yellow blouse, brown and yellow stripped tie, brown worsted square yoked pinafore dress reaching well below my knees, brown V-neck woollen waistcoat with yellow trim and brown V-neck woollen cardigan with yellow trim. Of course all items must be buttoned at all times and worn correctly. I have also been required to embroider in yellow thread the words “Reform School for Girls” across the yolk of my pinafore and embroider badges in yellow and white with the same words, “Reform School for Girls” and sew these to my woollen uniform items. I have to say that although minor this detail is a severely humiliating one particularly when having to appear in public. I wear this uniform at all times except at night I wear a grey woollen ankle length gown buttoning high to the neck in addition of course to my knickers and sanitary pad.
I do all of the housework before my breakfast at 7:30 am each morning meaning I get up at 5 am.
From 8am until 6:30 pm every day I am confined to the study room. I have a laborious regime of school work consisting of religious study (reading out loud, writing dictation or having to copy passages of The Bible), writing lines and essays on my misbehavior and punishment and needlework (making of school uniform including knitted woollen items and other plain clothing).
I am allowed porridge for breakfast, liver or mince with mashed potatoes and two boiled vegetables for lunch and two slice of bread and water for tea (except on Sunday when I receive no tea).
The only exception to my confinement is on Sunday when I have to attend Church with my Aunt. In addition to my school uniform I also then wear a brown woollen cardigan jacket with yellow trim, brown woollen beret with yellow trim and brown woollen mitts with yellow trim. To add to my humiliation the mitts are sown to the arms of my cardigan jacket by elastics. Following the Church service I have to help serve tea in the Parish rooms. Following this public humiliation I spend the rest of Sunday providing meals to my Aunt and her many guests, doing two hours of physical exercises in full uniform in the garden and when not doing this standing with my hands on my head facing the wall or corner.
I speak only when spoken to and must always reply as succinctly as possible finishing with “Maam” or “Sir” as appropriate.
I have to ask permission to go to the toilet and am limited to two cold showers per week using carbolic soap to wash my hair and body. My hair is worn in a pony tail and is swept back from my forehead. My Aunt cuts my hair to ensure I have no fringe. I have my mouth washed with carbolic soap and water three times per week before going to bed as a specific punishment for lying when my Aunt asked me if I had been drinking.
I am allowed to change my knickers and socks twice per week, my blouse once per week and my dress and woollens once a fortnight. My Aunt says that as I am a schoolgirl I can endure the body odour consequences. I, of course, am not allowed jewelry, make-up, etc..
I receive corporal punishment regularly as my Aunt says I need to be punished severely for many failings and to receive regular reminders of my new position in life. I receive eight strokes of the cane to my behind every Sunday and two strokes of the tawse to the palm and back of each of my hands on Wednesday.
If I fail to meet the required standards I am immediately and harshly punished. In all cases, without exception, I receive corporal punishment – spanking, slipper,paddle, tawse and cane to the hand or bottom, have privileges withdrawn (meals, toilet access, change of clothing, etc..) and other humiliations imposed (more woolens, corner time, wearing of Dunce’s hat, etc..).
As you can see my status has changed for the worse but I accept I deserve this and I am determined to follow the rules as laid down until I have served my punishment and demonstrated I can be trusted to behave. My Aunt has said that I will remain in this regime until the end of June at which point she will decide what happens next based on my behaviour. She has also made clear that even if my behavior until then is exemplary I can expect to be spending several further months in school uniform including in public. I have already learned a very severe lesson and recognize how stupid I was when I thought things couldn't’t get any worse as I had to go to work in a plain dress and cardigan – I now know what freedoms I still had and how long it will be, if ever, before I have them again. I apologise again for this intervention and of course, as asked by my Aunt to do, request that should you or any of your other readers have additional thoughts on how both my current disciplining or future regime can be shaped or harshened to ensure I behave please let her know. She is always keen to add to my deserved discomfort and humiliation.
Judith