Gym Suits, Punishment PT (see lower down entry) and an Update (see top of entry)

Hi folks I'm back on the air again. I performed the necessary transplant two nights ago - in fact just a few hours after posting up my last entry - and and I'm glad to be able to report that the replacement power unit is performing well and that no damage had occurred to any other part of the computer. I should qualify the latter, however, by saying that where I mention 'damage' I am referring to hardware damage and although MS Windows XP did not fret too much over having been 'unexpectedly shut down' - it is much better than earlier versions of MS Windows in that respect - it did completely mess up the way that I had my pair of monitors configured and also the way that the icons and folders etc were organised across the desktop. In addition the BIOS had reverted to its default settings; before the problem I had the CPU overclocked by around 30%. These are minor considerations of course. I'm grateful nothing worse had occurred and as for the latter clock speed issue; that the weight, for now it is not that important. For the culprit, see the above picture. No, the power unit case wasn't blown apart, I merely dismantled it to look for reassuring evidence that it was indeed the cause (or at least a symptom) - and found it in the form of signs of burning around the base of the two capacitors in the foreground (the contents of one of which had been distributed around the inside of the case in the form of a finely-powdered fallout) and charring to the circuit board in the centre, which admittedly cannot be seen from the photograph (below, left).

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.

Gym Suits, Punishment PT and Restrictive School Uniforms

Today I expect to mostly spend, after posting up this update, catching up on dictating the body of hand written work that has built up although a part of me wants to get back to the scanning project I had running in the background. Part of the reason for this is that the day before yesterday, the day after the repair, I spent a little time poking, prodding and probing around some of the more obscure nooks and crannies of the Internet looking for inspiration for a piece involving punishment PT (or enforced physical exercise, or whatever) that I am working on for the new book and of course Janus magazine famously published a nice little series dealing with just that, back in the 80s as well as one or two other photo series that ran along similar lines (such as one involving ballerinas in training I seem to remember). I realise that by now many of these pictures may be available elsewhere on the net but as I haven't come across many myself and as I hope to elicit inspiration and ideas from those that read this blog, I am keen to get a few pics pasted up. As regards my writing, though, I have been (and am) looking for ideas as an alternative to the well worn and hackneyed leotard or the concept of naked PE - the latter, as appealing as it might be, I don't think fits in with the spirit of the series story arc. Consequently I'm looking for the unusual and as always I have been pillaging from the past. One thing I've come up with is the concept of the 'gym suit'; I just think that it fits in nicely with the idea of anachronistic and extraordinarily restrictive school uniforms, petty stipulations, 'no talking' rules and all the rest. One has to take into account that, unlike previous periods in history, the modern miss is not universally that reluctant to disrobe to a lesser or greater degree and that exposure, in itself, is no longer necessarily that shaming. One also has to take into account that in such an institution as laid out in INSTITUTIONALISED volume 1 and INSTITUTIONALISED volume 2 or indeed in any situation in which the young lady concerned is effectively isolated from her peers - perhaps subject to home-schooling with private tutors and the like and either alone or with others being similarly trained - the usual conventions of society as regards dress need no longer apply. One can fully exercise one's imagination; and the more unusual the outcome the better as regards the effects on the young lady or ladies.

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.

The Demise of a Well Loved Machine?

What a crap day it has been so far today. Towards the end of last week I had reason again to visit 'the coast', which, together with gym sessions and driving lessons (car driving – yes, at my age I have yet to learn to drive), pretty much swallowed up my time. This morning, though, for the first time in ages I awoke at home (my home) – and with the day ahead totally free. Not only that but I both awoke at a reasonable time and fired-up with a burning enthusiasm to get on with writing - You may remember that recently I told you how I had come up with some interesting ideas, well now they have had time to ferment! So, picture the scene; I am sitting in front of my dual-screen work setup, microphone poised at my lips (I use voice recognition and dictation) and hands quivering in anticipation hovering over the key board. The computer boots up (takes just a few seconds – it uses two 10,000 RPM Raptors configured in RAID zero, for the technically-minded) and I duly log on to my account. Google pops up, my work folder opens, the voice recognition stuff loads and I lean back with my mug of tea, reading through my emails – all is as expected, all is right with the world and I am raring to go. But what is this? What is this strangely-pungent smell, somewhere between toilet disinfectant and singed hair? Having checked my barnet (Barnet fair – hair, get it?) and found it free of evidence of indigenous slash and burn agricultural activity and having felt an ominous tinge of familiarity tickling the back of my mind, I lean forward, tentatively sniffing at the keyboard, mouse and their environs...Yes...My suspicions are confirmed. The worrying fragrance is stronger here – actually it is becoming stronger throughout the room, almost eye-watering in fact – but it is definitely stronger here. Now that I come to think about it, I know that smell from somewhere – from the days I worked as an electronic engineer – it is the odor of stressed-out electronic componentry giving up the ghost...But this is a veritable funeral pyre!...And it is coming from the rear of the computer desk – I can see the smoke now!!! I reach for the off button but the reaper beats me to it – the screens go blank, the fans fall silent, the hard drives run down and brain-death is declared. For a few dumbfounded moments there is silence, then....Bang!!! A loud metallic concussion issues from the computer's backside – these things can happen to us all at the moment of our demise I understand.

To cut a long story short; upon undertaking the necessary postmortem examination I found encouragement in the observation that the odor of decay was strongest around the region of the heart (power supply). Upon opening up said organ I was further gladdened to find evidence of blackening and a splattering of the contents of one of the electrolytic capacitors. This is not to say that the patient is retrievable of course; the chances of resurrection depend a lot upon the strength of its immune system, ie whether or not the motherboard's over-voltage, chip set overheating, CPU over-temperature detection and shutdown measures stepped in fast enough. In the absence of visual evidence, the only way to find out for sure is by substitution. Accordingly I have just purchased what I believe to be a correctly tissue-matched transplant replacement.

Despite this drawback, I am determined not to let my enthusiasm become too dampened. To that end I have decided to do a little work on my notebook machine in a local coffee bar before returning, so that at least I have got something done toward getting the new volume out. Meanwhile the project I have been trying to get underway to scan and share my spanking / discipline magazine and book collection (and other related collections) has once again been delayed as has anything else requiring scanning / printing. To top it all, I have quite a lot of stuff on the main machine that is not backed up (and that is despite my forever harking on to anybody within earshot of the need to always back things up). Saying that, all work to do with my books has been backed up on DVDs or resides on more than one machine, other than the work I recently did on the cover art for the new book, but that was only tentatively trying out a few ideas and amounted to just a couple of hours work at most. There is quite a lot of downloaded research, source materials and pictures on the hard drives, though, that has not been backed up. As the drives are RAID zero and the data shared between them, this means that if the motherboard is indeed kaput, then retrieving all that stuff will have to wait for me to put together what amounts to a new machine. Meanwhile, for the chap who requested pictures of women carrying or using the tawse and for all those that appreciate the image of the strict nurse / governess figure, here are a few pics originating from our sponsors (ho, ho!) (see bottom of page or right sidebar) Sorry they are so small but they are just thumbnails that I have pinched off of one of their email newsletters. Ordinarily I would re-size / enhance them for your further delectation, but...Well you know the problem...Actually the last one is from elsewhere (though I'm not so sure from exactly where - it was sent to me) and not so small - think of it as a bonus. Cheers and beers!

Nurses and Straitjackets

For once here in London the sun is shining. I am wiriting to you from outside the Woodgreen Wetherspoon pub 'Spouter's Corner' where I am sitting bathing in the rays and imbibing a pint of 'Fortyniner' in what they laughingly refer to as their 'beer garden' - in reality a roped-off area of pavement just yards from roaring buses, screaming sirens and the mutterings of assorted passing druggies and other nutters. While we are on the subject of mental health issues; my mind has recently turned to the idea of the helplessness that is associated with incarceration in a straitjacket, especially if the young lady concerned should have her tender backside bared for the attention of the nurse's cane or tawse. I have to admit to being aided in fantasy by this wondrous series of pics recently sent me anonymously via email. I am led to believe that they originated on Flikr (hope I spelled that right) and so I hope I am not treading on anyone's toes by posting them up here. Apparently they are from a series of stills taken from a music video - but that is about all I know at present and I don't have time to search through Flikr to learn more. Not that i would want to - I have absolutely no idea of the story-line depicted here, and that is exactly the way I would prefer to keep it. I know what I would like to think about it, One's imagination fills in the gaps, which is as it should be and is also what makes the series such a powerful source of inspiration. Absolutely anything can be attributed to these images and what more could one ask? One thing that I know for sure is that it has certainly got me scribbling away like crazy!!

Beer Festival News - Spanking Good Fun and One for Your Diary

Your fave pervy Scribe is now back in London but a little side-tracked. I have just had my second ever driving lesson...And of course could only get through it with the promise of a pint waiting at the end of the road; consequently I am presently holed-up in the Palmer's Green (a North London suburb - don't worry about it) Wetherspoon's...Hoorah!! I am now down to one pub visit every 10 days, so was a little concerned when some one came up to me a few moments ago saying that the London Beer (and cider - yeeuck!!!) Festival was coming up later this week. luckily for my mew year's resolution a quick perusal of the web proved him wrong, see poster. Needless to say that when the time comes that is the venue where I shall be found, so come and say hello if you are in the area - I only bite when I'm hungry! Meanwhile; besides the driving lesson I have also had a humongous workout in the gym so I have earned a few 'bevies' of the real-ist of ales and whilst partaking of said refreshment I hope also to gain a little inspiration in the shape of my favorite barmaid's delectably spankable little arse!

Prison and Asylum Girls and the Tawse: A Few Requests Satisfied from Afar (Eastbourne)

Still in Eastbourne I'm afraid, but getting on with a little writing from time to time. It now looks as if I will not be back in London until after this coming weekend; I know I have said this before, but this time it really does look on the cards. Besides, I have certain commitments in London on Monday, so I have little choice in any case. Meanwhile I have received by email a couple of requests for pictures. The first was for pics of women holding a tawse, of which I have found a couple lurking on my backup DVD (I have loads more stashed at home that I can't get at right now, including in magazines awaiting scanning). Incidently; I have posted at least one other picture of a dominant nurse wielding a tawse in the past - check out the blog archive, see if you can find it (should be easy if I have tagged it correctly - but that's a big IF!). The second request was for prison / asylum girls pics. Luckily I have recently been scouring the web for just that of late. I have been looking for inspiration to inform certain ideas I have developed that revolve around the possibilities inherent in the concept of an exploitative private or charity-run workhouse, but always with an eye to how such a scenario might be integrated into the concept of a behavioral research unit and perhaps overlap with the latter's asylum-like structure.

Interviews and Interrogations

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

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

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

Filmic Inspiration, a Blog and a YouTube Link

Hi folks! I'm glad to be able to report that work on the new volume (that I am still yet to come up with a title for - any ideas folks?) is coming on in leaps and bounds. Some great, new and decidedly fresh ideas have popped into my head of late - all suitably cruel, as I'm sure you can imagine, but in a subtle way that I think somehow becomes even more twisted for being so. The only problem I have at the moment

is that, having successfully repaired my home computer, as am sure you know, I've yet to persuade it to co-operate with my printer / scanner. I'm not sure what the problem is but I am away from home at the moment anyway and I won't be back at my desk

until Monday or Tuesday of next week so the fix will have to wait until

that time - and then hopefully I can get on with scanning more of my magazine and book collection for your delectation and delight. I am also absolutely dying to get on with some artwork for the front cover of the new volume - it's one of my favourite bits when doing this stuff, although I'm not that great at it. One thing I have decided upon is that the imagery should incorporate some sort of parochial theme as between the pages we are afforded an insight into a church-run charity home for wayward young women. I will say no more than that for the time being, other than to say that we do also get another glimpse or two into a certain behavioural research unit, specifically that part set up a run in the style of an old-time secure reform school or boarding school but mostly the story deals with young Lavinia's life with her increasing tyrannical aunt and that woman's idiosyncratic views on domestic discipline. Basically it deals with the events leading up to her being persuaded to volunteer as a research subject in a project that she is told will involve her staying for a 'short while' in the experimental psychology unit of a private hospital. As you will know if you have read INSTITUTIONALISED volume 1 and volume 2, it is all pretty much as described to her, give or take, other than that the researcher's view of what constitutes a 'short while' differs some what to her expectations. And it is not a place one just walks away from. We also see something more of the background of one of the other characters who emerged during the events of volume 2, young Meridith Hewson.

Talking of reform schools; am I the only person in the whole world who had never heard of the B&W 1929 film ' Diary of a Lost Girl' by G.W.Pabst and starring Louise Brooks (See above left?. In it an "unprepossessing young woman is seduced by an unscrupulous and mercenary character". She is then sent to a reform school for girls, that seems less "an institute of higher learning than a conduit for fulfilling the headmistress’s sadistic sexual fantasies" and that is headed by staff who expect and exact "unrealistic standards of obedience from the cowering, terrified pupil" one in particular apparently seems to derive "an orgiastic pleasure from the rigors of [the] discipline inflicted". Sounds bloody gorgeous!!

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.