Behind Firmly Locked Doors And Barred, Frosted Glass, Windows...

 ...all manner of interesting and imaginative punishments become permissable

A Matter Of Opinion - Long Or Short Gymslip For The Adult Girl Incarcerated In An Institution?

 After all I said about intending to update this blog on a daily basis...Well, waht can I say? Two computer crashes and a bout of depression and a long drinking session all too soon  put paid to that. But her I am, back again!

So... Long gymslip?  Short gymslip? Skirt and blouse? What would be your prefference if in control of such an institution as depicted her?

Another Qustion: Is it permissable  - or even desireable - to chose a colour for a girl's uniform other than the usual brown, navey blue, bottle green, grey etc?

 

The scenario here is that they are forced to exercise to exhaustion in full 'school type' uniform before then being resturned to the schoolroomjust as they are, their uniforms soaked in sweat, where upon they are made to write a long essay about the folly of feminist beleifs based on a long, recorded, lecture on the subject they have had to listen to and io memorise earlirer. For this reason I decided upon a long heavyweight serge gymslip teamed with a thick polyester blouse.

It's Been A Long time - But I'm Back. From Now On I'll Be Publishing Something On A Daily Basis

...If you like adult girls in gymslips I'm guessing you'll like these! I dont have time to create any still frame images or write much right now but here are a selction of movies to be getting on with to give you the flavour of the direction I have been working in. I'll explain the premis in some detail tomorrow (Thurseday)

My First And Very Own AI Girl

 This turned out to be a really great experiment.... I spent a couple of hours using an on-line AI engine...Of course there were zillions of screw-ups, but even some of them had a sort of charm about - so I've included a couple of those here too - and then sudenly out of the blue it spat out this one...and it instantly told its own story...I have no idea why the AI suddenly posed her this way. All I had to do was fix her tie and add a cane. The prompt I added amongst those I was using was simply 'seated' and I was like...OMG!!!!!! The main thing was that I was after getting an image with a gymslip - and I got a few! The main trick seemed to be prompting for and 'eighteen years old woman' rather using 'girl'

A LITTL BIT OF MIND CONTROL STUFF FOR ALL THOSE WHO LIKE SUCH THINGS

 

I’ve been playing around with this image for some time now and I think I've pushed it about as far as it will go, especially as regards extracting a storyline from it . There are two versions here: One version has a slight glint to the pendant, the other hasn’t. Please let me know which you think is best – or does it make no difference? The girl is made up from parts of three different AI generated figures provided me by one Angela Fox which I’ve then photo-manipulated together to form a sort of pleasantly busty chimera girl. Then I’ve bunged some headphones on her and so on. The hypnosis idea just came to me because of the way some of these AI generated figures have a strangely blank look or / a strangely mindless-looking smile – all very odd, but capable of yielding some interesting things.   

 

 The storyline which for some reason suggested itself to me as I worked is that there has been a multiple kidnapping – three girls from different families and even different parts of the country. I like the idea that the girl thinks her family are refusing to pay.... that concept actually developed from something an online friend said.  I like the idea that all three young women are in the same boat but are not allowed to talk to each other so they know nothing or very little of each other’s backgrounds and circumstances, a very strict rule enforced by the cane and the strap.

 

Obviously they can have no contact with the outside world to ensure they can be kept in secure captivity with no risk to their captors but I also imagine they have been kept entirely isolated from the outside world in terms of having no access to TV, radio or newspapers etc so. they have no idea about what is going on beyond what they are being told, and a lot of that is largely to manipulate their young minds. All three are feeling completely crushed since they firmly believe they have been let down by their respective families who have refused to pay a ransom, although it has been paid a long time since.

 

There are no clocks or watches and thus after eighteen months incarceration they have completely lost track of time and have little or no idea how long they have been in captivity. They have had everything taken from them when they were captured - all personal belongings, watches, phones (obviously), even clothing, the latter replaced by being supplied with drab, rather childish and old-fashioned  school uniforms. They are kept occupied, day-in, day-out, by tedious repetitive written impositions sitting in total silence and caned or spanked for the slightest infraction.

 

I suppose the questions requiring tackling are: Why is all this happening to them, why haven’t their captor / captors released them, since all three ransoms have long since been paid? How long do you think the girls are going to remain incarcerated, what effect is all this having on them and what kind of condition will they be in when (or even, if) they are returned to their families? 

 

I can't help but think the deliberate induction of agoraphobia to be an excellent method of keeping a once-rebellious or arrogant uppity teen under lock and key. It is not as ‘science fiction’ as some might think. Existing phobias can become linked and associated with new circumstances or objects creating a new phobia and, as incredible as it may seem, studies have been carried out, albeit in the distant past, exploring exactly that, and not in a particularly ethical way either!  But as always I worry about plausibility: Could something such as decision making eventually become phobic through various treatments.

 

Perhaps a young woman is presented with several rows of buttons and told to 'choose now'  and if she doesn't 'choose now' she receives an electric shock so she has to make a choice and press a button...Sometimes she’ll be greeted by some little reward as a result. At other times there might be a mild electric shock and at the same time she is presented with an image of a particularly nasty-looking spider. Now I’d imagine all this to be pretty much random, so as our attractive young  lab rat can't learn the pattern of which buttons are safe to press and which are not…hmmm!…

 

Come to think about it...Maybe she is allowed to learn the pattern and then every so often it is suddenly changed. Or perhaps a button pressed twice in a session might provide a reward on the first occasion and a shock on the second occasion. It might even transpire that a reward might be provided on two - or even three occasions - and then suddenly that same button pressed yet again provides a shock. Over time she comes to associate having to make a choice or decision with something nasty happening, and particularly with her pre-existing phobia... And this idea might be then be reinforced during one-to-one therapy sessions through discussions with a therapist under the guise of helping her, or maybe hypnosis and – especially, I feel -  by means of encouraging false memories to develop…perhaps some imaginary childhood event wherein her chronic indecisiveness led to something horribly unpleasant happening  to her.

Best Gymslip Design of all Time? You Tell Me

Is it just me that thinks so, or is this the finest design of gymslip ever produced or even conceived of when it comes to setting apart a young lady from her peers as an aid to developing the correct mindset to accept the imposition of strict and restrictive discipline - discuss. (I can’t say I entirely approve of the knickers though.) Yes I know you’ve seen pics from this set before on this site, but not this particular shot I think (I hope); I’ve just come upon it. Now for the real reason for this post (not that I am not serious about hearing your points of view / ideas / designs – yeah, why not designs?):

A couple of days ago I mentioned setting up a series of Dropbox albums to share various stuff I have downloaded off the web over the years and also that I have scanned from my various collections of spanking and domination orientated stuff and various materials that have informed the descriptions in my books. Part of the impetus for this was having the album containing my collection of the spanking and D/S art work of Hobbs / Thorn (there is some contention over the true artist’s identity) deleted by those well-meaning folk at PicasaWeb and my desire to circumvent future strife.

Well, as an experiment I have now created a folder of the Hobbs / Thorn artwork on Dropbox. I have created an entirely new listing category in the right-hand sidebar to hold links to future Dropbox albums if the trial works out. It may well be that I’ll have to cycle these albums from time to time to work through my collection due to limited storage space. Dropbox has a limit of 2 GB on their free subscription service and I am also using it to back-up my writing and book cover artwork. However one way of working around this to free up more space would be for me to set up another Dropbox account under my everyday name for backup purposes. I’m going to see how well this works out first and how popular - or otherwise - it proves to be, so I’ll be looking for feedback (hint, hint). Remember to check the Dropbox album list in the sidebar (just below the ‘Spanking Artwork Albums’ list) from time to time as I will be adding to it when I have time but I may not always have sufficient time to tell you in a blog entry. Remember too that much will be adult content, especially the Thorn / Hobbs stuff!

I forgot to put in links in my last posting to the two sites I spotlighted. This I have now rectified – sorry for any inconvenience / frustration caused. I have also added a link in the ‘Useful Resources’ list situated in the sidebar to a source of ‘forced exercise’ photos on Tribes.net for all those that appreciate such things (click to visit or see sidebar).

Spanking in Crete? (And the Rest of that Gymslip / School Knickers Punishment Photo' Set)

Probably not, unless the room maid falls down on her job - who knows? In short: I'm off to Crete - Agios Nikolaos to be more exact. I am Leaving tomorrow morning and will be away for eight or nine days thereafter, but I'll be staying at a friend's place for the rest of today and tonight so I guess this will be the last posting for around a week and a half or so, what with one thing or the other. I'm hoping to get some writing done while away, so I'll let you know on my return. Now for the rest of that photo' set I have been baning on about (see above) sorry if the layout is a bit rough and ready, but I am in a bit of a rrrrush! The holiday is all a bit 'last minute, you see...I mean really last minute!!! The pics are not too brilliant, I know, and a bit tame in today's world; but nevertheless at least I can be sure you wont have seen them before... Or at least I'm 99.9% certain - let me know. And how often do we get to see those great old baggy school knickers! Actually I have just discovered a few more of this set but i am not going to try to add them right now - I have had enough trouble trying to arrange these! Since 'upgrading' to Explorer 8 I have had nothing but trouble with the formatting on Blogger. Any ideas?

The Gymslip: The Governess's Choice Every time

After reading the comment / contribution I featured in my last posting I came upon an anonymous comment posted on my entry entitled "The Perfect Gymslip?" (click to view post if you haven't already) simply stating :"Love the work. Long live the gymslip!"

In the context of the last posting and taking inspiration from some of that anonymous benefactor's ideas as regards rear buttoning garments in particular, and the question of discipline in general, I started asking my self the question: just what would constitute the perfect gymslip in the eyes of our governess or institutional mistress?

The first question I suppose has to be; why the gymslip? I think the answer there lies in the distance between it and most everyday garb a young adult might chose to wear - always assuming that she has any choice in the matter of course. After all general speaking; a skirt is a skirt is a skirt - but a gymslip instantly shouts; juvenile. It is an anachronistic thing to boot and being a full-length garment has a far greater scope for imaginative stylistic refinements - the open-sided bodice style, that I personally would favour, in particular as there is much scope there to work there with different yoke shapes as well as shoulder-strap widths, lengths and buttoning arrangements. Talking about the latter leads to the first refinement I could imagine our governess incorporating.

.....

The traditional fastening would be by two or three in-row buttons along the top of each shoulder strap but I have seen the buttons running across at a point around a quarter of the way down the front of each shoulder strap - which of course eases the chore of fastening and unfastening in the case of the young child. But our governess is, of course, in charge of recalcitrant young adult women - a pair of young ladies, say, in dire need of strict discipline and unlikely to take kindly to the imposition of uniform as it is, let alone to be enamoured with their new gymslips. The imaginative governess surely would have created for her charges a pretty little confection with a row of three buttons to fasten each shoulder strap, but sited running across each at around a quarter of the way down the rear of the strap. Very, very fiddly and extremely difficult to fasten and unfasten unaided - how galling!

.....

The second thought that comes to mind is one of practicality. In an institution practicality and functionality may well be considered to be paramount, with the fabric choice being influenced accordingly: easy care, easy to clean, perhaps by simply sponging down , hard wearing fabric etc. But I would think that any governess worth her salt and deeply steeped in the subject of discipline, would actually be more likely to go for the diametrically opposite qualities, if giving careful though to a suitable uniform - or uniforms - for the young women under her supervision. Consider; a fussy design, as difficult and troublesome in dressing as in wearing. A myriad sharp knife-pleats decorate a skirt of a fabric guaranteed to require ironing on a daily basis. The fabric chosen particularly because it is known to crease extremely easily - perhaps it scuffs and marks easily as well. If stockings are worn then surely they would be of extremely fine denier, anything but run-resistant and of course seamed. It goes without saying that dress inspections would be frequent, long and tedious and the slightest crease, stain, button misplaced or left unfastened, would result in sever hard strokes of the cane. Likewise crooked seams or (horror of horrors) a ladder in that expensive but delicate hosiery. Needless to say that a creased skirt would be near impossible to avoid with the utmost care in sitting - and of most relevance to the anonymous contributor mentioned in the last posting - necessitating the absolute minimum of fidgeting throughout the seemingly endless schoolroom day. Then we come to thoughts of suitable underwear, of which more another time...but just imagine semi-transparent knickers, in a suitable colour to match the uniform, as an interesting diversion from the obvious...just look at the pic, above left, and imagine this under a suitably abbreviated pleated skirt. Then there is the possibility of combining this feature with traditional school knickers style, full, high-waisted, nice broad leg elastics - all very traditional...until we get to the gusset.

.....

Well, that's it for now, Tomorrow I'm off to Broadstairs (a little town on the Kent coast in south-east England) where I shall be until Monday. I'll be taking my trusty pad and pen so I can put together those last little niggling details of volume 2 (I need to come up with a suitably vivid description of a British woman police officer's uniform - don't ask why...I wont tell you - coz it would give too much away...and then you might jump to conclusions). I also hope to come up with some ideas / make some decisions for the blog and/or the upcoming discussion board/website I have planned. Talking of blog posts: I am going to begin a small series through which those that are interested can watch the evolution of the INSTITUTIONALISED volume 2 book cover - starting with the hand drawn layout guide I have come up with (created in the pub, of course - a real mess). I have to apologise if today's effort seems a little error prone, perhaps a bit of a mess, disjointed or just plain rambling nonsense. I have been writing all day and it is now the early hours of the morning - and I have to get up early too! PS: Just to keep you all up to date: volume 2 is currently standing at 221 pages completed.

Restrictive Clothing and Cramped School Desks

A while ago I received an emailed comment from an anonymous reader, to whom I must apologise for not getting to it sooner, regarding restrictive discipline clothing. As usual I have run it through the good old spell checker, but unusually I have also carried out a little bit of editing - not because there was anything wrong with it as it stood, but rather because I enjoyed the ideas presented and couldn't resist embellishing it a bit. Also it led me to think more about a prospective governess's thought processes if presenting her take on a school uniform suitable for a young lady continuing her education in somewhat private circumstances (see next post)...now read on...

"Dear Garth, I read your blog of February 16th with great pleasure. Restrictive clothing has always been a favorite of mine, underwear especially. What can be more restrictive than a tight corset? I am all for the inclusion of a long chapter with a number of girls in a classroom where the (stated) goal of the experiment is to study the influence of “proper dress” on learning. Of course the girls as they sit in the classroom cannot forget for a minute their appearance. Be it the tight constricting, lace-up oxford shoes; sized far too small and that hobble them, imprisoning their feet so tightly that nothing can move inside. Walking in these shoes is painful; sitting in the classroom is the only way to alleviate the pain. But then the corset takes over, as it has been equally carefully designed to dig into the pubic bone and under the arm when sitting. The back garters are positioned so that it is impossible not to sit on them and not leave their imprint on their skin - with time, angry red marks develop.

The stockings are support stockings or wool or maybe both just to keep warm in the winter or summer! The backboard, integral to their corsetry ensures that there can be no stooping in the classroom - or anywhere else for that matter. I like the idea of a smock or tunic, back buttoned and with a starched cotton blouse underneath and a high tight collar, also buttoned in the back; the girls can help each other dress up in the morning… I could go on and on, suffice it to say that the idea gets my vote."

Yes and yours would get mine too... Especially if they are crammed into the typical Victorian schoolroom desk-and-seat combo or some modern variant. The most interesting point about that type of design is that...in actuality it is so poor when it comes adaptability. Even in its original for it was designed to accommodate comfortably only a narrow size range - and of course the pupil has no control over the relative positions of the desk and chair, there can be no slovenly swing back on the chair or twisting nonchalantly to one side or the other and facing outwards with legs crossed...or even crossing the legs under the desk if the design has been engineered correctly. In short it is that very lack of flexibility that makes the Victorian schoolroom desk so amenable to enforcing the standards required for the imposition of strict discipline - it represents a little more of the aspect of personal choice rested away from the governess's charge.

.....

In the context of the above writer's ideas; the incorporation of such furnishings into the schoolroom when dealing with girls in their late teens or even early twenties, especially if scant regard has been paid to their physical maturity, would be the icing on the cake, so to speak. I have rustled up a couple of suitable pics (above) to illustrate what we are talking about here : if you imagine such a design having been realised in a tough white molded plastic, all smoothly-curving lines but otherwise just as restrictive (perhaps more so, having been especially put together for that very purpose) then you have something of the atmosphere of the schoolroom depicted in INSTITUTIONALISED volume 1.

.....

There is scope here for further refinement of course: for example the chair back (straight-backed of course) could be increased in height as far as the back of the girl's head to enforce a correctly alert and disciplined posture and restrain her from stretching and throwing back the head in an unladylike manner.

.....

On the other hand the chair could be reduced to the dimensions of a narrow bench seat and her posture be maintained by discipline (and the fear of the cane) alone. But then, of course, one looses that cramped feeling of restraint - and I do think that the desk edge should fit snugly against the midriff at all times, with the girl's hands kept where the governess or schoolmistress can see them; above the desk and demurely clasped or kept flat with palms uppermost (my choice!) when not writing. I think that I would recommend a combination of aspects of the two approaches: a high straight back to the chair but the seat itself reduced to a narrow bench, little more than a perch, and a gap between the two sufficient for the swell of her bottom cheeks to protrude. Very uncomfortable, very humiliating.

More E-Discipline: Let's Call Her My Little Supplicant. Also New Thorn Art Added

I am just putting together a new post and doing some general work on the blog. I have been writing today, working on a section that is destined to eventually become part of INSTITUTIONALISED volume 3 and that I have provisionally entitled 'drip, drip, drip'. Not to give too much away it involves a pretty, late teenage, girl (whom you may or may not have already met in volume 1, I'm not saying, but will learn more about in volume 2 in the company of her governess) a pitch black hospital room, medical restraints and a 'malfunctioning', leaking intravenous drip-feed. I know I should get volume 2 finished first but when these ideas come to me I like to get them down as soon as possible before I lose them (I would have liked to have supplied a suitable pic, something teasing, but couldn't find anything that really worked in the time I have available today).

.....

Talking of chastisement: I can't help thinking that Little Supplicant seems a good a title as any to apply to my little discipline disciple corespondent, to whom I have referred before in previous postings. Actually, come to think about it It is a name that seems as naturally suited to her, reading between the lines, as does the school uniform here– it is easily my favourite of those in my collection from the period and one that I would have no compunction whatsoever to putting her in, despite her maturity - the combination of the striped blazer and striped hat-ribbon should make it suitably conspicuous in public, and the girl (for that is how I perceive her, despite her years) suitably self-conscious in it. And if it didn't fit… well, I'd make it fit! That little problem would simply have to be addressed by appropriately restrictive foundation wear…or she would have to be dieted into it at the encouragement of the cane. It is an image that I would suggest we all hold in our collective imaginations when we read of her correspondence and of her completion of her various impositions - a middle aged woman squeezed into a pleated skirted gymslip and squirming to ease the sting of a throbbing freshly-caned behind. Perhaps she can let us know how it feels, after her husband canes her this weekend.

Yet More Gymslips I'm Afraid - I LOVE 'EM!

Yet once again I find myself forced to apologise for the sparsity of posts. As you probably know, from the outset I have undertaken to try to post at least once each weekday. But in recent weeks, what with the treatment I have had to my eyes and the complications thereof and then the banking crisis with the attendant insane shuffling around of bank accounts and out of blind panic (treated with a liberal dose of alcoholic bingeing) things have gone somewhat awry. When I have managed to post something it has of necessity been very short and sharp (and hopefully sweet) and part of a consequence of that is that the site has notably been gradually going off track of late. The aim as stated was always to discuss the INSTITUTIONALISED series, the things such as images, films, TV shows and books that have influenced me in writing it, the ideas I've had and others that have recently come to me and that I am developing at present - and also to provide a platform for you good readers to contribute your own ideas and feedback. In addition I try to keep track of the type of thing that visitors have come to this site searching for (those of you that arrive as a result of a Google, or other search engine, keyword search) and then try to provide either the relevant content (if it is relevant to the stated aims) or a link to it. But what with the various distractions I have had the tendency has been to provide content as quickly as possible and easiest way was to work around those keyword searches.

.....

This was something I had intended to address this week, to get this site back on track but again things have gone somewhat awry - I am behind with the writing of volume 2 of INSTITUTIONALISED, there is still the stress of all this banking nonsense and somebody, who shall remain nameless, sent me a link to a marvellous source of vintage pictures - a vein that could take weeks to mine to exhaustion and that I really should leave alone because of the time I'm spending on it, but it's just so damn addictive!! On top of all that I spent most of yesterday traipsing round various hair clinics receiving quotes for a transplant - just a little to either side at the front you understand, I'm still pretty much well thatched otherwise (honest). So far this week I've only managed one post and that pretty much consisted of a series of links to the various albums I've been building up. Of these, only Betty Bow 1973 has been much visited and I think probably because people are mixing up the name with that of Betty Page . The first is a British women's workwear and uniform manufacturer, the second is a famous vintage burlesque star (click on her name to visit her site) and muse of the great John Willie (AKA John AS Coutts, of which more we must wait for another time - as influential as his work was on me in my formative years).

.....

As for today, once again I am somewhat short of time so for the moment and the completeness and bracket and because people still come to this site having typed in gymslip is a keyword) I'm posting up a few more vintage pictures. And then at some later point I am going to place all the gymslip pictures I have together in a single album and supply any link to it from the sidebar. Later today or tomorrow I will endeavour to get the site back on track with some stuff actually directly pertaining to my writing and influences, with a couple of nice illustrative images I've come across, possibly a snippet from volume 2 or volume 3 and a story outline that I've sketched out and that will form part of the body of volume 2.

.....

Mind you, isn't it nice to see a bottle green one - so near-perfect for a girl's first arrival at the institution (think INSTITUTIONALISED volume 1). Of course the shoes would never do - and where the hell has her tie gone? That Should warrant a caning straightaway, don't you think? Far too slovenly - and her skirt is creased.

.....

Finally, I just couldn't resist this little pic of what so easily could be a nice little summer dress with a bit of imagination (perhaps in a nice bottle green or royal blue gingham check) - nothing like the type of thing that the uniforms I envisage the girl's wearing in the institution are based upon of course, but quite lovely in its way nonetheless. Girlish enough to be an acceptable for a young lady under the tutelage of a stern governess I should think - and brief enough as to invite frequent slaps across the back of her thighs and equally frequent visits to the caning horse.

.....

Thanks for your patience and best wishes - Garth (soon to be immensely hirsute - a rock god in the making I shouldn't wonder).

School Badges and Humiliating Mottos - Any Ideas Out There?

Yesterday was one week to the day since I had my eye laser treatment and so it was off back to Harley Street for an examination and eye test. My eyesight is still a bit pissed up so writing to the computer is still somewhat hard work. Apparently the reason is that I am suffering from dry eyes, despite all the eye drops that I've had to put in each day. Now I have to put in moisturising eye drops every hour on the hour and some new horrid oily substance three times a day - this stuff makes my vision temporarily even worse (around five to ten minutes worth anyway) and turns everything into an oil painting (and a somewhat runny one at that). I had chosen for an early appointment so as to meet up with an old school chum for lunch in a nearby pub (where else?) - The Jack Horner in Tottenham Court Rd - a purveyor of fine pies and even finer pints of Fullers ESB (Extra Special Bitter - and it is, too) (possibly the best bitter in the world -at least I think so). It was all a bit of a disaster though; my old mate didn't turn up until two o'clock in the afternoon by which time I had already knocked back five pints, I hadn't started any writing because I was expecting him to arrive any minute (for around two and a half hours worth) and then we moved to Camden (I think - I can't really remember) and by the time he left I was far too inebriated to start. And then of course there was those bloody eye drops, everything swimming around in an oily sea of colour, and have you ever tried putting in eye drops without poking yourself in the eye while extraordinarily pissed and in some crowded and excessively noisy Camden pub. I do remember that the eye strain was making me feel tired, and then I guess I must have gone home - because the very next thing I knew it was the morning and I was back here. Today I've mainly been gathering source material for the blog, various illustrative pictures and also hoping for inspiration to get me writing again - I have a lot of stuff part written but that at the moment I can't really face finishing off so rather than waste my time completely I'm starting of one or two new story arcs. I have decided that it might be fun if volume 2 and/or volume 3 were to have one or two small illustrations here and there had to start the ball rolling and to explore further the idea I have attempted to create the embroidered blouse pocket badge outlined in that small and partly written fragment that I published a couple weeks or so back, click on badge to link to it. Later today or early this evening I am going to be adding some illustrations to the blog entry that I posted the day before yesterday and some discussion points but for now I'm going to try and get a little bit more of INSTITUTIONALISED volume 2 finished before I go out for a couple of pints (for medicinal purposes only you understand - the cruelest thoughts only ever come after a couple of pints or so, I'm too nice ordinarily).

And finally: Well, I just I couldn't resist showing an example of something of the way I imagine it would look embroidered on the bodice of a gymslip - or perhaps it should mirror the one that embellishes her blouse's top pocket beneath, in terms of size and placement.

Personaly I think the 'great big statement' aproach is rather humbling to the wearer - a nice refinement of her humiliation. But...What do you think?

The Perfect Gymslip?

Probably not, but very nice nevertheless!

.....

Greetings good readers, from a still half-blind Garth Toyntanen. post my laser sight correction surgery of last week I now think that one eye is recovering faster than the other, or something similar. Whatever the reason, one eye is an awful lot better than the other at mid range and this difference is causing visual disturbances. It's probably not worth my purchasing reading glasses until my eyes settle down So for now I'm soldering on as best I can. It's all a bit annoying though as I'm about five days in from the surgery and I was led to believe that after 24 hours or so my vision would be very much back to normal.

.....

There are various points within the story arc so far developed in INSTITUTIONALISED volume 1 and that will continue to develop into the upcoming volumes two and three, wherein a young lady, despite her apparent maturity and physical development, is put in school uniform. Although the story is clearly sat in the present world, or at most a very recent past, the point is that those school uniforms are without exception not only juvenile in design but also both strict and anachronistic in appearance, and therein hangs a great deal of that all-important element of humiliation. Although I have always done my best to paint a picture in words, and will continue to do so of course, for many I fear that the imagery still leaves much room for misconception and puzzlement.

One of the most intractable problems I have had in creating and writing the INSTITUTIONALISED series has lain in getting the modern reader to understand exactly what is meant by the term ‘gymslip’ as pertains to the various encounters portrayed in the books. More specifically the problem has been how best to put over the image of the garment as I see it on the girls in my mind’s eye such that the reader shares the same viewpoint and perhaps understands the mental anguish and bitterness the girl feels in it, particularly having previously viewed herself as being a young woman of some independence and even sophistication. By way of an example; in volume 1 it is recounted how one particular young lady is delivered to the institution’s door in a rather strict example of an English boarding school uniform of a bygone age of a rather juvenile appearance and featuring a rather brief knife-pleat skirted gymslip. In some ways the American ‘jumper’ has come to the rescue to some extent as I expect quite a few readers have come across such garments on the Internet in various ways.

Here a reader’s contribution can lend a helping hand; the contributor known only as ‘Domestic discipline’ has again provided some wonderful vintage illustrations of English school uniform for which many thanks go out to him.

If one keeps in mind the bodice of the example at the top of the page, and considers the second of the two pictures above to be the view from the side (yes, I know it's a different girl in a completely different gymslip, but bear with me) and if you now think of the skirt as being flared and sharply knife-pleaded, coming to perhaps mid thigh, then you are beginning to see the image that I had in mind in that scene in volume 1. One should keep in mind, also, the starched stiff collar, school tie and hat of the first picture -and, of course, the young lady's cheeks, apple-red with embarrassment - in conjuring the picture.

The photo on the right I've included by way of contrast and intending to illustrate exactly what I don't mean by the term gymslip in my writings - this is the type of thing more typically thing seen and depicted in the spanking / discipline literature world but is something I think I would tend to refer to as a gym tunic rather than a gymslip per se as I intended depicted in volume 1 (yes I know the gymslip, as I describe, was originally derived from such gym tunics, see wikipedia for more).

Strict Governesses, Uniforms, Canes and Gymslips

Some uniforms look so much better with cane in hand (Click here to see the article with the original of the blue dress - look at the bottom of the page when you get there)

Others appear as if designed to invite the sting of swishy rattan - below - it seems the natural order of things, at least to my mind

(and those that inhabit the INSTITUTIONALISED universe of course).

Annie's World, Matron's World

For today I've decided to put up another extract of INSTITUTIONALISED volume 1 for those who have still to read it. I'll probably add some sort of suitable illustration or pic at some later date. More of volume 2 will follow in future posts... and perhaps even some very early stuff from volume 3. As for the rest of the day; well, I'm off to the gym then on to the pub for a few beers and, of course, to write.

The last time I did any really new writing was Tuesday afternoon (I think) while sitting outside a coffee bar (Costas Coffee) in Muswell Hill (North London). I got somewhat distracted by an artist (variously known as the Chewing-gum Man or The bubble-gum Man) who kneels on the pavement and paints tiny pictures on discarded gum and then photographs them (Whatever: it takes all sorts I guess!).

........................................................................................................................................................

Annie's World, Matron's World

(For previous Volume 1 extract, click title, to view more at Lulu, click cover)

... For others the world is a very different place, there are a very different set of trials and tribulations to be faced this day.

Take Annie for example, a runaway once lost amongst the city's sprawl; what if we were to be offered a glimpse into her life this particular day, a snapshot as it were? The same day, a far, far different location, environment and routine...

Annie is 21 today. No 'happy birthday, birthday girl' here. For Annie, today shall start like any other and as any other day, Annie is awoken by the harsh shrill ringing of the morning bell. Opening her eyes, the view that greets her she knows only too well. The clinical whiteness of the dormitory walls, the twin rows of hospital style beds. She has spent the last five years of her life waking to this scene.

She climbs quickly from her bed, as do the five other girls. All around is silence save for the soft rustling of latex bed covers and the crinkling of plastic knickers; talking could never be allowable in the dormitory. As do the other girls, Annie meekly kneels on the snow white carpeted floor alongside her bed , hands crossed in front of her, palms facing outwards, head bowed. As are the others, she is waiting for Matron to bring her bed pan. Above her, hanging from a hook on the wall beside her bed, awaits, patiently, her gymslip with its short, knife pleated skirt.

Matron will appear in due course. Her approach heralded in this surreal suffocating silence by the soft rhythmic sighing of her uniform dress against the nylon of her stockings and the occasional softly-cushioned footfall of high healed shoes on carpet. Her dress and demeanour are a study in the art, development and presentation of authority; she is the absolute image of control and domination.

Matron wears her full - skirted blue uniform dress at calf length. From her elasticated nurse's belt with its ornate silver butterfly-wing clasp she hangs her keys to the left and her tawse to the right, the symbols of her rank and authority. She by far prefers to use a tawse to discipline girls - so much more personal than the cane somehow – but a cane hangs above the nurse’s station nonetheless.

This, then, is her world. She is queen here, empress, absolute ruler and dictator. The dormitory is her dominion, the girls, 'her girls', subservient serfs and the subjects of her realm. Her rules, her regulations, her stipulations, no matter how petty, are the unquestionable, unassailable law of this land. Unyielding, unbreakable. Unlike her charges, they who, in their turn, kneel, as is only fitting in such a majestic presence, in abject supplication; they are here to be moulded, one and all, broken to her will. The morning ritual is just beginning and ritual is all important here, in her world.

Not that there does not exist a higher authority, albeit outside of the immediate environs. Ultimately there is her employer of course but there are other determining forces; she never goes long without reflecting on her good fortune and her gratitude to their mutual benefactor.

From its inception the unit has been gifted with facilities and funding beyond their wildest dreams and set within premises of insurmountable and incomparable perfection of function. Presently the financial aspect still depended on that source; to date the provision of the new workhouse facilities only went so far towards their first stage goal of making the unit self funding, profitability lying some way off in the future.

Many might label as insane the substantial sums that have been poured into the unit, the old fashioned moirés upon which it is structured, the concept of 'protection from moral danger'. However, few are privy and those that are support whole heartedly the goals.

Their benefactor is a woman of not insubstantial means, influence and philanthropic drive who, having stepped back from the reins of her businesses, has seized the opportunity to indulge further her unusually active interest in aiding 'runaways' and the homeless. If some might be cynical enough to point the finger at her intention of profitability, labelling it as exploitation, so be it; as she sees it there are many other aspects and benefits to her work. These were young impressionable girls plucked from the jaws of the greatest moral and physical dangers the city had to offer. Some of these girls were barely out of school and generally were lacking even the most basic of qualifications let alone employment prospects; what chance of an education did they have, what chance now? “What these girls need most is a good, stable, secure home, a good education, caring but firm guidance”. She is simply a successful business woman in a position to offer exactly that, albeit so far to just a handful of young women but, with the completion of the new wing, she will soon be extending her hand to others. Soon a few more lucky young women will be coming under Lady Marchment's caring regime, to restart their lives in a 'fine, stable and secure home'. A secure home indeed. Lady Marchment sets great store by security, ‘protection’ as she sees it; few prisons could be more secure. Once a girl has entered Lady Marchment's program she finds that changing her mind is not an option; she has entered a private little world. A world of uniforms, bedpans, petty rules, strict routines and bells. Bells, bells, bells, always bells!…

This, then, is Matron’s world; a world within a world, ritualised and controlled. Today though there is disruption; there are girls here other than ‘birthday girl’ Annie and one of them is having difficulties adjusting.

Humiliation, shame, embarrassment, mortification. These terms and more could easily be applied to Jane's reaction to the situation in which she has found herself this morning, yet no mere words could truly do justice to describe the depths of her despair. She can feel the soggy wetness of the thick knicker-liner, is only too aware of that other soft squigyness confined within her plastic bloomers. She has caught sight of herself in the mirror, kneeling there, and her horror is written across her pretty face. She can see the areas of yellowing and those of the more shaming blackness within the semi -transparent garment. She is acutely aware of the smell and, what is more, she can hear Matron approaching. She can feel tears falling on her upturned palms.

If we could listen in we would hear words of comfort and kindness from Matron, her voice would be soft, no hint of anger nor irritation. We would hear her curt instruction to the nurse to ‘clean the girl up’ and the nurse’s prompt response; “yes, Matron”. We might, just might if we were to listen closely enough, make out the occasional soft grunt from girls desperate for control, forced now to wait for their bed pans while the girl is dealt with. There then comes a sequence of events, inevitable under these circumstances.

First there comes the voice of the nurse; “she is ready, Matron.”

Then Matron; “thank you, nurse”. Then Matron again “bend over, girl”.

There is a pause, perhaps a sob, before: CRRACK! “One, t,thank you Matron”; CRRACCK! “T,tt two, tthank yyyou, mmmMatron”; CRRRAACK!! “Th, th, thr, three, th,th,tt thank yy,y you,,’sob’, mmmMatron”.

A bell rings; six girls take their places squatting over bed pans barely adequate at best. There comes the gasp of the freshly punished girl. She has been lucky, had she failed to count, failed to recite her formula of gratitude there could have been many more than three strokes of Matron’s tawse; Matron is apt to re-start her punishments. There are other sounds filling the air now of which the more sensitive might rather not be privy and which the girls, without exception, would rather not anyone hear. Suffice it to say that the bell, although continuing its tintinnabulation throughout is never quite loud enough, particularly under the never distant supervision of Matron and her nurse, strolling up and down between the twin lines of squatting girls as if invigilators in some twisted exam.

Well, what of the rest of the day in Matron’s world? For most they will have slipped outside Matron’s immediate sphere; there are lessons to be attended. The next two hours Matron spends at her desk; there are reports to be filled in. There are also plans to be drawn up; there are soon to be many changes made, particularly within the framework of the research activities, a bold extension of scope, in fact groundbreaking.

Post lunch and Jane, the girl for whom the morning has proved so vexatious, is scheduled to attend her therapy session with Ms Soames. She has thus been returned to Matron’s jurisdiction with the reminder of the latter’s authority still throbbing across her rather full buttocks.

She has been left to stand at the foot of her bed to wait for Matron, her compatriots having returned to the class room. She stands with hands on head facing the mirrored wall at the room’s far end. There is little scope for anything else.

There are three doors, the two set in to the side walls, one on either side at the room’s end toward which she is presently facing, she knows lead to the class room and the examination room, the latter being kept locked. The third door, the one set into the centre of the end wall behind her, the only door in or out of the suite in fact, lies safely beyond the floor to ceiling iron security grille that bisects the entire room at that point and that sets the limit of their living space. The symmetry of its thick bars is disturbed only by its inset gate with its bulky lock beyond which the door itself would, of course, be locked. She knows that through that door and only a short distance along the passageway beyond is to be encountered an identical, if somewhat narrower, grille of equally imposing bars and equipped with an equally robust lock. Besides, in front of her, no more than two bed-widths distant, the nurses station is occupied, as it always is, the woman, a red head, her colouration set off prettily by her light blue uniform, sits with her back to the mirror working on her reports but occasionally glancing up.

There is always supervision here in Matron’s world.

.............................................................................................................................................................

Copyright (c) 2008 Garth. P. ToynTanen

Taken from: Institutionalised Volume 1: Beyond the Stanford Experiment