The
juxtaposition of a strict, no nonsense uniformed nurse with what appears to be
a domestic environment is a compelling image I always think, an image in this
case which could easily have come straight from the pages of a new book I'm
working on:
“No, I’m NOT
joking, young lady! If you take in to
account the early bedtime I’ve introduced, that we have this rule you stay in
bed until I come to get you and you have your afternoon nap time, it hardly
seems worthyou getting dressed. So get
those things off – and get back in your pyjamas. THIS INSTANT!
And not those old ones you’ve been wearing either – those new ones I
brought you a couple of days ago from that place I used to work in. Yes, I’m sure they ARE embarrassing, or they
would be if anyone else saw you in them.
But no one else IS going to see you in them, are they? You’re not going anywhere.
I’ve told you
before; now that I run this household, things have changed; I’M in charge. There’s no more gallivanting around the shops
and arcades, no more mixing with friends, talking to boys – no going out;
period! No - you stay in nowadays. Ok, up until now we’ve had our little walks
in the garden – so long as you hold my hand – but I’m going to put a stop to
that as well; too much sun is bad for the complexion you know. In fact from now on I don’t even want you
going downstairs any longer; I’m going to keep you hidden away up here, on the
top floor, when people come. You’re an
embarrassment! And you’ll embarrass
yourself if you come swanning down wearing those new pyjamas I got you. But you’re not GOING to come swanning down,
are you? No you’re not – because you’re
going to be sitting quietly in your room writing lines at your desk or kneeling
facing the corner with your hands on your head when people come. I’M the only person you should be thinking
about nowadays – how to please ME. And
the best way you can please me right now is by getting those pyjamas on.
As I said; there
seems little point in you getting dressed nowadays… So I’ve decided from now on it’s going to be
pyjamas all day, every day. The rest of
your stuff can go to the charity shop to join all those things I took off you
when I first arrived, all those ridiculous ‘designer’ frocks and fripperies
you’d been allowed to get away wearing,
the makeup, the hair ‘products’ and sprays.
I expect you’ll be glad to see the back of that school uniform I’ve had
you wearing day in day out – but I think I’m going to have to BURN that; I
can’t imagine there being much call for something like that in such a large
size…
No, no – slip
the knickers on first; they go with the outfit... And fasten the top button of
the jacket for heaven’s sake – the jacket is supposed to button high, so it has
a peter pan collar; it gives it a little femininity; it’d look like you’re
wearing a rather ugly set of men’s pyjamas otherwise… Yes, I KNOW there is a badge embroidered on
the breast pocket, that’s the name of the place where I used to work - and the
word under it, that’s just a clinical term, applied to the woman who last wore
those pyjamas; it just lets the staff know not to listen to a SINGLE thing the
woman says, that she talks nonsense, rambles… Just like you do dear, when you
talk about going to university, meeting a boy, getting married and all that –
oh no, no ,no you’re not; you’re staying right here! So I thought it rather apt…
Smelly? The pyjamas?
Well… I suppose they are – a bit.
That woman I told you about got a new pair - they’re changing the style
apparently - that’s why you got these; I don’t expect they got sent to the
laundry before they got thrown out… The
knickers are fresh though – brand new… Stop all that fussing and get them on –
that’s NOT rubber on the inside, it’s medical grade PVC, polythene if you will,
quite soft and comfortable; the outside is nylon; the waistband is so stiff
because there is a spring steel band running through it with a little clasp and
loop arrangement poking out through the fabric at the rear where I can slip a
neat little padlock, make sure you’re all locked away snugly with no
‘tampering’ allowed.
Yes, I’ll unlock
it if you need the toilet – if you ask nicely – but you know the house rules by
now; I have to watch; I’m not having you using it as an excuse to play with
yourself; you KNOW I don’t allow
masturbation. If you want THAT kind of
relief I’ll do it for you! All you have
to do is come ask me nicely, drape yourself across my lap, part your legs – and
I’ll bring you off in no time with my fingers; I’ll have you squirming across
my lap in minutes, reduced to a sobbing puddle of sweat and gibbering like the
imbecile it says you are on that badge.
And once we’ve
broken through THAT barrier you’ll find you’ll be coming begging… BEGGING… for
me to bring you off that way again and again and again. I can make it VERY addictive for you And then…
And THEN… we’ll have to see if we can’t teach you to do a few things for
ME! Oh, I beg to differ – I think you’ll
find you WILL, you know.
Now come and lay
yourself across my lap – I’m going to give you a good hard slippering to break
you in wearing your new pyjamas: And I’m
just wondering whether I need to shave you again ‘down there’ – yes, I think
I’ll fetch the bowl, soap and razor afterwards.”
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