Nostalgia...Such Sweet Agony!

Hi chums. Just a quick update. My gym is shut today so I am sitting outside my local wetherspoons pub but before I came out I fixed my home desktop computer. The problem turned out to be a faulty case fan, not a power supply fan as i had feared. I had already bought a suitable replacement which took just a few minutes to fit, so as from tomorrow normal service will be at last resumed and i will also be continuing with my publication-scanning project (eventually to encompass not just spanking literature / images but also a whole range of subjects – some of which are not related in the slightest and may deserve their own blog / website). I have had one or two requests - including one for images of women holding the good old fashioned Scottish tawse – which i shall be happy to oblige in the fullness of time, possibly beginning with those tawse pics as i am searching for such images myself at present with an eye to the cover of the upcoming new volume. Talking of imagery – Monday afternoon last, saw my journalist / fashion-bunny partner and your scribe at the Victoria and Albert museum , attending an exhibition of digital / computer art. Then it was off across the Thames to the BFI (British Film Institute) to attend a preview of the film, '44 Inch Chest' which was followed by a question and answer session with one of the writers, David Cinto, and two of the actors, John Hurt and Ray Winston. It has been commented – and having seen it, I concur - that it would make a good stage play. I would imagine it running something along the lines of an Arther Miller production, but that;s just me. More interesting stuff (as far as you spankos are concerned) will be coming your way tomorrow, but for now I have to nip down to a deservedly obscure land known as Stokenewington. I lived there once, in the period when my wife and I had our little submissive plaything living with us. It is a tale that I have alluded to more than once before and that coincidently I was reminded of only yesterday. I was somewhat worse for wear, swaying in a fairly rough Tottenham pub and fairly drowning in nostalgia, watching 1980s pop videos on their plasma screen, when I spotted a scene shot in Regent Street in which, in the background, could be seen the window of the old Alexandra Workwear shop (now sadly departed this earth) featuring a manikin kitted-out in a rather fetching light blue nurse's dress. I will always remember our first trip to that emporium with our Penny – my wife had spotted a nice ensemble in its window, an odd confection in hindsight, the dress having a skirt in a solid block of colour and its bodice in a pastel candy-stripe, the two parts being realized in two entirely different fabrics with the upper part having the charming attribute of almost appearing semi-transparent under certain circumstances. Well certainly it could reveal enough with little more than quarter-cup support beneath – and our young penny was somewhat over-endowed in that department as I recall – very fetching with a candy-striped waist apron to match and – later – a lace-trimmed cap. There were a few yelps and swishy cane-strokes involved in that venture – when we got her back home – I can tell you! Ahhh! Nostalgia...Such sweet agony it is!

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.

An Update and a New Link Added to Spanking Universe

I have had to delay working on fixing my main computer until Thursday for various reasons and so I don't expect to be fully up and running until the following Monday, depending on whether it turns out that I have to purchase a new power supply or not. Meanwhile I have just updated the blog list in the sidebar to include a new link to Richard Windsor's Spanking Universe, the hub of all things spanking - as was always part of the intention behind this blog - and now a full-blow website. I am also carrying on working on the new volume using my 'netbook' machine but in the absence of my usual voice recognition software, progress is a little slow. I Hope to get a proper posting made tomorrow, continuing on from my last and including the stuff I couldn't get typed in last time due to various time constraints but that is already written out longhand in my note pad.

'That' Thorn Sketch – A Case for Analysis, a Thousand Tales Woven Within

This must be about the only blog that has not wished its readership a merry Christmas and a happy New Year, as is traditional this time of the year! My apologies; I had intended to do so from the hotel in which I spent the Christmas holidays (of which, more next time), down there in Rye – a medieval town situated in east Sussex – but was unable to get convenient access to the Internet, and in any case came under not unsubstantial pressure from the 'little lady' to pay more attention to her needs and pay less to my 'ridiculous hobbies'...Well, I never! So, retrospectively, may I wish you all, where ever you might be and whatever your faith, a very happy Christmas and Good luck for the New Year. Talking of which; due to the upcoming New Year celebrations and various family commitments, my next update will probably not be until January 4^th 2010, after which I expect there to be a couple of days when I shall be silent, during which I shall be undertaking repairs to my main desk computer, before embarking on a whole series of projects that I have planed for the upcoming year and which include more frequent and regular updates to the blog and its eventual expansion into a full-blown web site.

Now to a bit of news and a little inspiration that came to me in the pub having earlier been perusing an old back-up DVD of my scans and web download collection on a friends computer. The artworks presented above left and right – both scanned some time ago from an old magazine, I forget which - could so easily fit with certain aspects of the story arc depicted in the upcoming 'in-between' volume or indeed the planed story line of INSTITUTIONALISED volume 3. Both perfectly encapsulate that essential spirit I am striving for, but not necessarily overtly spotlighted; just as the real 'meat' of a tale is often best written 'between the lines' so the inspiration here lies in all the little details that at first go unnoticed, yet between them voice the narrative without further need for elaboration.

Taking into account what I have just said above, it is the illustration presented here - below and to the right - that caught my attention and that I would urge you to focus your attention on. Drawn by one of my favorite artists, Thorn, it is also one of my favorite images (or rather it has been – I somehow lost track of it in recent years; I think I downloaded it some ten years ago!) and one of the most inspirational illustrations, in terms of developing the ideas behind my writing, that I have ever come across.

As I said above in connection with the other two images;
The real interest is not so much the rather attractive young lady, her pert breasts, nor the cane-lines running across that ripe, full backside of hers. Rather the tale resides in what has been left unsaid, hinted at by all those little details residing in the background. If it has a title, I don't know it, nor do I know exactly what the artist's intentions are in terms of what he is striving to depict here, the scenario he has in mind – nor would I want to know (so if you definitively know, don't tell me – though I'd love to know your interpretation). The full interpretation is left open to the mind of the viewer – and therein lies the excitement and its enduring interest for me.

All I know about this guy is that he is an absolute master of depicting the infliction of cruel and imaginative humiliation. In particular he is a virtuoso of capturing the emotional effect of that humiliation in the unhappy faces of his succulent young subjects. What I would give to have him collaborate on one of my books! Each of his illustrations is a story in itself and if a picture might paint a thousand words – as someone once said – than surely this particular illustration outweighs that estimation tenfold; he has surpassed himself here! This image I think I downloaded around ten years ago or more and it has never been far from the roots of my imagination since. Why? Well, the magic so far as I am concerned is all in the unanswered questions it poses – there is just so much here to ponder that is left open to interpretation.

For a start; there is nothing about the background that necessarily sets the scene in any restrictive manner – it is not a schoolroom, reformatory, convent or any other obviously institutional setting, nor would it seem to be a domestic environment. The scene seems set in some sort of shop - yet even this is not necessarily set in stone. The male could be a shop assistant or - if an exclusive bespoke establishment, as one might imagine – perhaps the owner. But what type of emporium might this be? In the background one can see a pair of half-torso manikins – one proudly displaying what would appear to be a revealing corset of fetishistic restrictiveness and the other demonstrating what looks to be a locking chastity belt.

The girl - surely too young and sheltered in upbringing to be so worldly-wise as to yet know of such things – is being laced into a cruelly-constricting waist-cincher and one is left wondering whether which, if any, of those background items is to follow. And she is plump enough to give creative scope to the corsetier's art; which is an important point here. She has obviously recently felt the kiss of a supple cane across her plump buttocks; indeed, a suspect implement lies discarded in the foreground, along with what one assumes to be her discarded and, notably very ordinary, 'girl next door' underwear. Did she initially object to being fitted with that cincher, or perhaps to disrobing in front of the elderly chap - and if so, was he the author of those throbbing swollen wheals (I for one would like to think so). If I was to be critical at this point, it would be to say that I would have liked to have seen some evidence of previous sessions with the cane; perhaps some faint, fading marks or even something suggestive of permanent marking – something that the girl is only too well aware she will carry through life - that might go beyond her undoubtedly chaste natural shyness in explaining her extreme reluctance to disrobe.

Another question arises as to exactly what the girl's relationship is to the seated older woman smugly looking on. Once again uncertainty abounds and the imagination is left to run wild. Is she the girl's legal guardian, stepmother, privately employed schoolteacher under who's thrall the girl has somehow fallen or a governess charged with curbing a perceived over-exuberant and rebellious spirit and given cart blanch.

And what are we to make of the proprietorial manner in which that woman is apparently regarding her charge's intimate triangle? Is she considering the purchase of a chastity belt – is that what is coming next? Perhaps similar to that on show, yet the spring-steel waist-band locking in the center of the small of the back and to be worn over the top of that waist cinches thus negating tampering on more than one level at once. Then those breast, though youthfully-pert already, might yet benefit from even greater uplift – perhaps some sort of under-wired support lifting the girl's bust clear of her chest and thrusting those attributes generously forward as if offered up for display yet leaving the front uncovered, 'for hygienic reasons'. Is that woman considering one of the very many restrictive corsets or corseletes on offer for the girl to wear over the cincher? if so, might it not incorporate, for the sake of good deportment you understand, a suitably stiffened back-board to keep her back good and straight. Perhaps such a garment might incorporate an adjustable strap running across the shoulder blades and linking the broad shoulder-straps that might be tensioned to further perfect the girl's deportment. Of course the side effects of this - forcing a posture be adopted with shoulders pulled well back, chest thrust forward and buttocks invitingly rounded and thrust out to the rear – are unlikely to exactly detract from her charges attractiveness. Deportment might be paramount and thus exemplified by these measures, yet to the unenlightened , uninitiated, observer the conclusion is hard to avoid that the effect is to present a wanton offering up of everything that goes to represent the girl's femininity in a manner that it is only right that she should find most shameful.

But what else might that woman have in mind for her charge – for example, what of that pile of the girl's discarded clothing that lies crumpled in the foreground, surely she is not going to be allowed to redress and leave with such disheveled vestments over her new and undoubtedly expensive foundation wear?...

More ideas next time, but in the meantime – what do you think?

RIP Computer and Another Inspiring Email Gratefully Received

On Friday my main home computer finally and sadly past away following a long illness. Those of you who have followed this blog since its inception will have heard before how throughout last winter on the coldest days the thing would be reluctant to start and – once persuaded to cooperate through fair means or foul - would then grind along sounding like an old tractor or diesel generator. I traced the fault to a dodgy cooling fan on the power supply, but as the problem rectified itself once warmer weather came and showed no hint of recurrence throughout this last summer, at least until relatively recently, I never got around to doing anything about it. The irony is that on Friday last I had agreed to help an old school mate with a problem on his machine, the idea being that I would ring him up and talk him through the fault-finding process while sitting at my computer and following his progress by duplicating his actions. I duly called him up, then went to boot up my machine...and you can guess the rest. My mate found it hilarious – the joke somehow escaped me! I was forced to adjourn to the pub for the reminder of the day – oh dear!

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My magazine scanning project has of course had to be shelved until repairs are carried out – which will probably be in the new year now, as I will be away from home over the Christmas and New-year period (staying in a hotel in Rye, East Sussex). My work on the new book will continue on paper and also using my new portable machine. But it is an annoying development as I only recently rediscovered my enthusiasm - and part of that revolved around my having developed some interesting ideas for the cover design, which I was itching to get started on. The portable machine I have is fine for writing but the screen size is far too small for any serious graphic work, whereas my desktop machine now has two large screens (as of a couple of months ago) across which I can distribute all the various elements I intend to use.

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Meanwhile I am still working through my email backlog; which brings me to today's subject. I received the following email around eight to ten days ago. I copied and pasted it to MS Word, intending to compose a answer later, then deleted the message - something that would not ordinarily be a problem, as it can be resurrected from the 'trash' folder...Except it can't! said folder is empty for some unaccountable reason and I have some how managed not to copy the writer's identity; probably because I had intended to double it up as a blog entry and so would have wanted to assure the correspondent's anonymity. Under the circumstances I am left with little option other than to reply as an open letter in any case. But I am incredibly keen to do so as the writer touches on so many points that I plan to address in the new work - it is almost as if he / she has been reading my mind!

“Hi Garth,
I have read both books and am looking forward to reading #3 in the series. Will that be available in early 2010?
If I may be allowed to do so, I would like to offer some constructive criticism and a few ideas. I think you could be a little more graphic in your descriptions of the canings. Reading about the preparation, dress being folded back, knickers being pulled down, the recipient waiting anxiously for the first agonising stroke can be very erotic. I think the lash of a cane is a more erotic description of a stroke than slash. That word conjures up something completely different. And speaking from experience, there is no delay in feeling pain from a cane stroke. It's agonising and instantaneous. When the inmates are using their bedpans, are these on the floor? Or are they placed on a chair? You could describe what a girl feels like to sit doing her ablutions in front of other patients and sneering or laughing nurses.

How about uncomfortable, larger sized suppositories, and ones that cause constipation with hard stools difficult and painful to pass, leading to punishment for irregular habits with strap and cane? You could be a little more descriptive in describing the insertion of these. The embarrassment of bending over legs apart, Knickers pulled down, the nurse slowly pushing them in one after the other. "Take a deep breath sweetheart, here comes the first one" Perhaps making the recipient squirm with the discomfort of being stretched and feeling them inside her bottom. “I know it's uncomfortable dear, but it's for your own good" Perhaps you could enlarge further on the discomfort of wearing plastic bloomers. I'm sure they become very warm and sweaty. Noisy when walking? You didn't enlarge on the fitting of anal and vaginal dilators. Having these fitted would be excruciatingly embarrassing for a girl surely.
But can I congratulate you on these books. As a great fan of Victor Bruno I never thought I would ever again read books so very well written and enjoyably erotic. And I speak as one who is more usually interested in classroom discipline, not 'toilet' sort of things.”

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There are some really interesting ideas broached here. I'm not too sure I like the term 'lash', though, as relating to a caning. I understand the eroticism involved - evoking as it does some sort of analogy with the use of the tongue in intimacy - but I feel happier with its association with the tongue-like action of a supple leather strap or tawse applied to the buttocks and thighs, especially with a girl positioned and pinioned over her mistress's lap, or a multi-stranded sauna-whip or martinet applied to the breasts.

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The point the writer makes about the potential eroticism inherent in descriptions of the folding back of a girl's skirt or dress and pulling down of her knickers prior to punishment is, I think, very true. In the new volume I expect there to be several instances of what I hope will be sufficiently vivid accounts written in the vein suggested - two such I have already completed and one of which incorporates a carefully worked through and detailed description that includes such attributes as the sound of skin-tight latex bloomers, adhering to the skin through the tackiness of perspiration, being pealed back with the girl lying across a nurse's lap.

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The section of the new volume through which we will be brought up to date with Lavinia's continuing tenure in the clinic's 'schoolroom' unit is planned to give ample opportunity to explore, in greater detail than has so far been possible in the series, the deeper feelings of the girls in view of their lack of privacy, though I can say little more for fear of giving too much away - other than it will be quite inventive. Remember that the introduction of bed pans, like so many refinements, has been at the whim of the staff. These are women who, unlike the supervising staff in the original so called Stanford experiment, who were selected at random from within the cohort of volunteers, have been carefully vetted and selected from within a group of psychiatric nurses based on their predisposition toward dominant lesbian tendencies and given free rein to develop the regime and innovate as they see fit.

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I have to say that, like the correspondent above, the 'toiletry thing' is not really my 'bag' either, but it lends itself to the medical fetish aspect that I was trying to incorporate and the subject seemed to arise quite naturally given the context of an experimental psychology clinic sited within a psychiatric hospital. I have to say that the use of suppositories to inhibit bowel movement had not occurred to me - a great idea, that - but the use of a steadily increasing size over time has. This is something explored within the new volume and strangely enough very much in the manner described. The insertion of a suppository (or suppositories) is somehow more personal and more of a violation of the person than the administration of an enema and is best given, as I see it, with the girl bent double across the starched-aproned lap of a nurse with an appropriate dialog as above. It is also a treatment I see as more likely to occur in the domestic setting that we explore before we see young Lavinia persuaded to sign up as an inmate of the clinic. Ironically though, despite the kind comments above - comparing my writing favourably with that of Victor Bruno - this particular direction of plot development is as much due to my trying to get away from that style of writing (despite having been so influenced by it) and go beyond the work of the great master as anything else. I should also point out to the uninitiated that despite any impression given by this discussion, the medical fetish aspect per se - i.e, as conventionally perceived - plays only a relatively small part in the story arc of the INSTITUTIONALISED series; it is definitely not obsessed with scatological concerns. Nor are there the long, drawn-out and inhumanly-severe canings that might be encountered elsewhere - the work was never conceived as a series of hard-core S and M novels. But then again, from a psychological standpoint, if one reads between the lines then in its own way the story-line could be perceived to be just as cruel, perhaps more so.

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Taking all that into account we finally come to the point regarding the prophylactic devices. I originally intended to weave more detail as regards the operation and fitting of these devilish devices into INSTITUTIONALISED volume two. Indeed a heck of a lot was completed at the time, but insufficiently so to really do the idea justice. Rather than use the material half-baked, as it were, I decided upon including greater detail and incorporating it into the plot line of volume three. I have since come to the conclusion that the best place to elucidate these ideas is within the pages of the upcoming 'in-betweeny' volume - think how a Victorian physician might have tackled 'obsessive self abuse', think of masturbation denied...but think also of temptation constantly and unrelentingly aroused. A similar fate befell certain ideas I harboured regarding the fitting of particularly ugly teeth braces to an otherwise pretty and vivacious girl and a description of what I like to call; 'Matron's, enforced self -critical body-image mirror therapy. The former I expect you will encounter in INSTITUTIONALISED volume three, the latter you will come across in the aforementioned, up-coming 'in-betweeny' book - I really must come up with a better working title!

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.

Emails, Latex, Starched Collars, Restriction and Enforced Tattooing

My apologies to all those who have emailed me over the last week or so and have yet to receive a reply. I have been out of action for one reason or another and on and off for quite a while now and in the meantime the incoming e-mail tends to build up. The new arrivals eventually push earlier messages further and further down the pile until they disappear off the bottom of the page and go out of focus - then they are all too easily overlooked. I am now working my way through my outstanding email stack and in so doing I thought I might use one or two to illustrate points regarding the INSTITUTIONALISED story arc and the influences that have impacted upon it thus far. As always I'll keep everything anonymous unless the writer concerned requests acknowledgement.

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Here is one that unfortunately it has taken me seven days to reply to - seven days languishing in my mailbox is unforgivable, sorry old chap - and my reply. The pictures are from a set that somebody recently sent me anonymously, for which my heart-felt thanks, and which deliciously illustrate - in an in-between-the-lines sort of way - the spirit of part of the upcoming new volume. There is piquant ambiguity there; of which, for our purposes, one might wish to choose the darker interpretation - is the girl truly as content as she seems... or has she just come to think of herself as content?..or been expertly led into a mindset of dominated acceptance? hmmm! I know not the origin of these pics so I can only hope I am not treading on any one's toes, copyright speaking, here - if so I will of course remove them at once.

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“I am really enjoying the descriptions of the uniforms, especially Lady Madison’s “maid” and the girl in the wheelchair, 24C, I’m not that keen on latex but the idea of all white, including the Nurses’ uniforms is great, adding the Nun style wimple adds to the effect. The idea of tattooing the individual “patients” number on their buttocks is inspirational, just a couple of questions though, why get the girls to write their names when consenting, wouldn’t it have been better to have them sign in a previous chapter that they would in the future as eg 23C and then any consent form would only use their number, or was the intention to introduce a little confusion when they used their previous name. Also what would happen if the patient changes from the school to the cells, eg 30S / 30C and then back again, would she have been tattooed?”

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I have to say that latex is only on the peripheral my interests, my interests really lie more with the use of corporal punishment and imposition of strict discipline and school uniforms and the like on young ladies in their late teens or early twenties. As I have said before; my formative reading matter tended to be the likes of Richard Manton and Victor Bruno, and if you know the works of these authors you'll get a feeling for where I'm coming from. As I read around more over the years and discovered other people's interests, the discomfiture inherent in the idea of the heroine having to contend with snug-fitting school knickers, say, fitted with a latex lining seemed to lend itself to developing that all-important sense of restriction. I saw the use of latex under such circumstances much in the same vein as crisply starched school blouses having high, tight starched collars, a girl's hair being tightly plaited and pinned coiled to either side of her head or cut to a short boyish, collar length, style, restrictive corsetry incorporating a stiffened backboard so as to ensure good deportment at the school desk, heavy gabardine rain-capes worn on the warmest of days or toe-crushing shoes cunningly designed to hobble the wearer and so ensure a suitably submissive dainty, girlish gait. You have to realise that when I set out to write these books I also set out to incorporate as many disparate fetishes that seemed to fit with the storyline - not necessarily my own interests in all cases.

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The level of discipline and restriction that many letter writer's seemed to advocate in the correspondence pages of Janus, Blushes, Whispers and some other magazines published in the 1980s, the period when I was mostly reading them and tend to hark back to, never really rung true with me in the context within which the correspondents would develop their ideas - such regimes as were often advocated seemed unlikely, if not downright distasteful to the point of being a turnoff, in the context of the parental home or in any sort of conventional and publicly scrutinised school system. Where on occasion some sort of promise of plausibility did seem to arise it was to be found more often than not broached in connection with the subject of ' admission procedures’ wherein the existence of various small, secure and privately funded institutions were sometimes posited - apparently run as much for the amusement of the rich patrons that fund it as to benefit the reformation or education of the inmates.

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One writer talked about an establishment wherein a young lady might be confined and where she might be visited from time to time by the man or woman responsible for her incarceration. Some spoke of reformatory schools and short-sharp-shock regimes, lasting two to three months perhaps. Others, excitingly in my opinion, spoke of minimum periods above a year while still others used that wonderful term 'indefinite'. Then one would sometimes come across the idea of a young lady cloistered behind the high walls of her ancestral home, kept from her inheritance by a cruel guardian or stepparent and under a regime of some sort of scholastic discipline whether mediated by a stern governess, dour children's nanny or strict nursery nurse. Influenced by all of the above and having read about the church run, so-called, Madeleine laundries and the ease with which a young woman could find herself committed to such a place - or indeed, in the Victorian period, to the local mental asylum - merely for having refused the advances of the local squire, as well as the unethical psychological experiments carried out in the 1930s through to the 1960s, I chose to invoke a combination of these ideas, centring around a privately funded research unit embedded within a secure psychiatric hospital. As you know it is basically the story of a girl who, having been manipulated into becoming a voluntary research subject for a short period, finds herself increasingly less able to extract herself from the situation to find herself in.

The idea of having the girls sign an earlier legal document stating that from that point forth, while within the institution, their assigned patient number would stand for their given name in all further waivers is a nice one. The reason I opted to have the girls sign the documentation, giving the hospital the right to tattoo them, using their full names, was to impress upon them the legality of their situation and to further impress upon them the futility of attempting to stand against the reform--school / boarding-school regime they are being kept under. It is for similar reasons that the documentation itself is dictated to the girls and has to be rendered in their own handwriting while sitting at their school desks. Obviously, pre-printed sheaves of papers, merely requiring the subject place her signature at the relevant points, could have been handed out, but that would have been missing out on a wonderful opportunity to further apply psychological pressure on them - remember that during the dictation process, any one girl making a mistake or failing to achieve sufficient copperplate-neatness caused the group as a whole to have to start again from scratch. Recall also that the documentation was worded so as to be not so much a permission given to the hospital as it was a request from the girl concerned that the hospital authorities should permanently tattooed each with her assigned patient number. You have hit the nail on the head when you posit the intention of introducing a little confusion when the girls are forced to use their previous names - a girl finding herself automatically going to use her patient number despite herself, perhaps finding her given name appearing almost strange to her, will surely be mindful of the effect that her time in the unit as already had upon her.

As to what would happen as regards the tattoo if the patient was to be changed from the 'schoolroom' regime to the ' prison' or ' workhouse' regimes - there is a good reason why this would not be of too much concern but to elucidate further would be to give too much away.