Wednesday, 26 June 2024
Wednesday, 2 June 2010
Institutional and Domestic Discipline: An Illustrated Collaboration 3 – Further Evolution
Talking off inspiration: if you remember the piece I posted recently regarding my collaboration with the Stateside computer artist, ‘Snooze’ and the evolution of a particular illustration I demonstrated as an example of the sort of thing we have been developing you will probably be interested with this, the latest incarnation of that art work - compare and contrast with the earlier renditions posted elsewhere. There are many more scenes we are working on – some far more complex and detailed - but it would spoil the fun to give any further inkling of these – you’ll just have to wait until the new book gets finished, or more specifically, the illustrated version of it.
Thursday, 20 May 2010
Institutional and Domestic Discipline: An Illustrative Collaboration 2 - Evolution of an Image
Generally speaking I have been restricting myself to writing the text and generating ideas (although of course ideas flow both ways thus nurturing yet more branches and avenues to explore). In the development of this particular image, my collaborator has sent me the three-dimensional artwork shown in the first couple of examples but then I've taken the liberty of attempting to change the background colour to better fit the narrative - which to be honest I cocked up to some extent, obliging me to digitally repair the kneeling nurses hairdo (badly) - and added in the girl’s room’s barred security door and her nemesis, Matron, approaching outside in the doctor's consultation room, purely as an experiment to see how it might add atmosphere. In the first image the girl is of course naked and unblemished, free from any evidence of prior correction. In the second and third images she has on her institutional shapeless and baggy pyjama jacket and a healthy red blush is apparent colouring her behind.
The nurse came from an old scanned catalogue illustration and is supposed to represent the stern hospital matron placed in charge of the hapless young subject. Although in this version she is carrying a cane, in the storyline it is a folded leather belt that is put to use; but I didn't have a suitable strap / belt picture to hand and has always being full of enthusiasm and having little patience I was in a hurry to try the idea out. The final version, if it indeed it is decided to go ahead and include the bars and Matron approaching from outside, will have her carrying the leather belt or strap. The idea is that the nurses outside the girl's cell in the doctors consultation room (obviously) and as she is more distant she does not have to have such a high degree of 3D-ism. In the storyline the bars of course painted white but are not too sure how well this will appear in the final image and is something I have yet to experiment with.
The bars themselves came from the original version of those that I used on the book covers of INSTITUTIONALISED volume 1 and INSTITUTIONALISED volume 2 and I used an image shearing facility on a Linux-based image processing application called ‘The Gimp’ called to simply pull them into shape to fit the perspective of the 3-D image as judged by eye (there is also a 'perspective' tool available on ‘The Gimp’ but that doesn't seem to work so well - at least not in my hands, LOL).
I have since fed back the results of my manipulation to my collaborator who has now sent me a version re-coloured to suit the narrative but minus the mess that I made of it. This latter modification is of course based on the original art work, so next one or the other of us will add in the extra detail as in my experimental changes, such as the external view and matron outside (always assuming of course that we decide to continue down that route). Any opinions / comments will as always be gratefully received. With external nurse / bars or without? Which should it be - that sort of thing. One thing that I should point out - and that I have pointed out before - is that the institutional aspect is balanced by the domestic discipline aspect in the final work and even a little ecclesiastical discipline: It turns out that one of my characters may - or may not (depending on who you believe - and even the subject herself is uncertain as to how much is memory how much is delusion) have suffered expiation (both sexual and otherwise )and physical chastisement under the guise of ecclesiastical care in a church-run home for wayward young women. This of course came to light during the events unfolding in INSTITUTIONALISED volume 2 but in the new volume we learn more of her trials and tribulations and perhaps discover the truth.
Wednesday, 5 May 2010
News, Views and Prison-Bar Blues
Now for some other news: I have just added a link to a guy called Doug Adams’ home page in the ‘Useful Resources’ list (see right hand side bar or click on ‘Doug Adams’ home page’, above highlighted in blue – I hope ). Look in the left hand side bar in his index page for a list of content, including articles on all sorts of fetish-related subjects, many of which have relevance - either directly or indirectly – to my present project or at least are potentially inspirational. Scroll to the bottom and you will also find a free image gallery, which again I have found inspirational.
I have also added two new blogs I came across just now while searching for more inspiration for the new volume to the blog list (situated in the right hand side bar, if you're new here). Schoolgirl Spanking Stories does exactly what it says on the tin – click on blog name to visit or check side bar.
Wednesday, 28 April 2010
Institutional and Domestic Discipline: An Illustrative Collaboration
Towards the end of last week I managed to acquire a chest infection - well to make matters worse while away this past weekend it developed into some sort of full-blown chest complaint, making it difficult to breathe. I have asthma and to be honest it is quite common for a simple cold to develop into a breathing problem - sometimes a sneeze will set off on asthma attack; which is fine if I have an inhaler to hand, which quickly sorts it out. On other occasions - and this looks to be one of them - a secondary infection sets in a whole thing becomes problematic until I can get my hands on some antibiotics. Those of you who regularly followed my ramblings will already know that I rely to a great extent on voice recognition software to dictate my work into the computer as I am as dyslexic as hell, easily distracted and incredibly slow at typing (not in any particular order of importance). Well, in addition to making me nauseous, I'm sure you can imagine how fits of uncontrollable coughing not to mention a blocked nose and wheezing can play havoc with voice dictation software - all sorts of gobbledygook results unless I quickly turn off microphone. To make matters worse the wheezing and blocked nose, together, seem to have affected the character of my voice so that more than ever this perverse little software package seems to be deliberately working against me - and I've often thought that it deliberately misunderstands me in any case… this computer hates me, I am sure of it! Bye for now!
Wednesday, 3 March 2010
Some Pyjama Musings, a New Album & More Paula Meadows Artworks Added
The other reason I'm in such a good mood today is that the writing of the new volume has been coming along swimmingly now that I am finally free of niggling computer problems (touch wood!). Of course new ideas and plot directions necessarily leads to further research, which in itself often turns up little gems of inspiration that in turn can redirects and further inform the story arc.
One of the pieces I been working on recently revolves around a girl undergoing a series of interviews involving batteries of psychological tests and assessments and in-depth questioning that more rightly might be described as interrogation. No longer a guest of the institution of her own volition, she finds the goalposts have now moved somewhat. She can no longer harbour any hope of being able to just walk away from the place, nor can she necessarily rely on those on the outside that know of her whereabouts intervening, few that they might be - indeed it seems that one or more parties have a vested interest in her remaining just where she is. And despite having now become officially, on paper at least, an actual in-patient rather than a volunteer behavioural research candidate, she is still very much embedded in the experiment, living eating and sleeping in the narrow confines of a self-contained sealed off section of the behavioural research unit initially set up on grounds approximating to a rather strict old-fashioned girl’s boarding school but having now morphed into something closer to a Victorian reformatory.
Obviously the girl realises that the only person that is going to get her out is herself and that the only way she can achieve that is ironically by going along docilely with the regime. She knows that her ‘case’ will be reviewed and that at that time she will have the opportunity to convince a panel of independent doctors of her suitability for release back into society. The trouble is, she knows too that her ‘case’ is not scheduled for review for nearly two years and that even then, should the reports received by the panel in the meantime not warrant it, she might not be invited to physically attend her own hearing. If she should give the staff sufficient cause to write ill of her, she could easily find her review date put off for another year or even longer - and even then she might not get the chance to speak for herself, not unless medical reports regarding her psychological state warranted it.
She also knows she has only herself to blame: Presented with what apparently was the perfect opportunity to blow the whistle, be free of the place and, she thought, potentially claim substantial damages in recompense for her ill treatment she had been naïve enough to blurt out the whole story. Only later did it occur to her how absurd her allegations would appear, out of context and in the absence of concrete evidence - especially when contradicted by a renown and well respected authority. It was hardly surprising that a swift provisional diagnosis of delusion was agreed upon. After all, who would take seriously a tale of a behavioural research unit buried deep within the bowels of a world renown private sanatorium’s secure psychiatric wing wherein young women were routinely incarcerated in prison-like cells and made to work in a sweatshop or - even more absurdly, surely – kept in an environment approximating to the strictest of convent boarding schools, subject corporal punishment and dressed in the most restrictive, juvenile, anachronistic and humiliating school uniform one could imagine?
Now she has to be careful; she is well aware that her every move is being scrutinised in the tiniest detail and report cards duly made out. If she rebels, then that could be held up as evidence of ‘behavioural disturbance’ – not to mention earning her a good few strokes of the matron’s supple cane across her bared bottom. If she submits, on the other hand, she risks becoming as subjugated and institutionalised as the other girls around her, the other ‘long-term subjects’ that she has in the past secretly despised for their ‘weakness’. Therein lays her quandary. But there is worse, in that the section psychiatrist seems to have taken it on her self to thoroughly investigate the girl’s case to her own satisfaction. The woman seems anything but impartial, digging deep into the girl’s background, and apparently determined to extract any and every morsel that might conceivably be evident of the diagnosis. Our tender heroine is summoned to the doctor’s office each and every day; the tedium of the schoolroom swapped for anything from one to four hours for the equally tedious process of incessant and repetitive questioning and probing, much of it on a highly personal level. Given the potential consequences the girl is of course guarded, but halve-truths and fabrications are daily being teased from the rest and absolute refusal to cooperate is not an option - the woman keeps a supple length of rattan by her desk and has no qualms about employing it.
So now we get to the point that has had me hunting about the ‘web’. It seems to me that the good doctor might consider the girl being removed from and returned to the schoolroom each day as being too disruptive. There is a small windowless anteroom, little more than a large walk-in cupboard, leading directly off from her office and equipped with a hospital bed and the idea occurs that she might remove the girl from the usual day-to-day hub-bub of the unit for the foreseeable future, at least until she is satisfied with the outcome. That room and the doctor’s office is going to be the limit of the girl’s universe from now on and given that she is not going to be mixing with the other ‘schoolroom section’ inmates I thought it likely that the school uniform would for the time being no longer be a part of her wardrobe. But how should she be attired? The thought struck me that pyjamas could be the solution, backed up on occasion by the addition of a straight jacket. What could be more apt or make the girl feel more like a mental patient than baggy, ill-fitting institutional flanelete pyjamas in a wide green and white striped pattern. In this scenario I imagine her as becoming the doctor’s own private prisoner, a sort of pet project that the woman can work on at her own convenience. I can envisage the girl being led in front of the psychiatrist’s desk, obliged to hold up her pyjama bottoms with her hands to prevent their slipping down, her wrists linked by cuffs and her ankles hobbled in restraints – how demoralising!
With all that in mind I have been looking around for a little ‘girl-spanked-in-pyjamas’ type inspiration. And as always, Google came up trumps a s witnessed by this little collection and a few links that I will share with you shortly.
Before I go I have to say how surprised – and delighted - I have been by the amount of response generated by my last posting. While quite obviously (well at least I think it obvious) this blog has little to do with cross-dressing and TG nevertheless I am sure that the link to Fictionmania kindly provided by ‘Anonymous’ (he gets every where, this ‘Anonymous’ chap) will be of interest to many, thus I have added it to the ‘Useful Resources’ listing in the right-hand sidebar. Another (I assume) Mr ‘Anonymous’ seemed able to read my mind when, referring to the gym suit idea, he suggested a lining of satin and mentioned PVC – I had just written a bare-bones description involving satin-lined serge with an integral rubber layer. I am going to be taking his advice, though, and investigate the possibilities inherent in 1960s and 70s designs before committing myself to one design or another.
Tuesday, 23 February 2010
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!
Tuesday, 15 December 2009
Emails, Latex, Starched Collars, Restriction and Enforced Tattooing
“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.
.....
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.
.....
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.
Tuesday, 17 November 2009
A Writing Update, Asylum Nurse Slippering, a New Blog and a Right Old Cock-up
The whole thing revolves around one of our young heroines arriving with her escort at a therapist’s office in the West End of London, having been persuaded, some time previously, of the necessity of seeking professional support and having had to date attended many such appointments. More specifically, the part that I had planned to work on yesterday - and that I hope to get my teeth into today - simply deals with the doctor's receptionist taking the girl’s outerwear from her at a coat stand in the waiting room and with the girls reluctance to be helped off with her outdoor things, despite the fiery summer's day outside and the waiting room being somewhat over-warm as a consequence. It doesn't sound much but it requires quite a lot of detailed descriptive work - and work that I relish to tell the truth, dealing as it does with the rationale behind an obviously sweltering and pink faced late teen girl and a heavy gabardine garment worn on one of the hottest days, driest, days of the year. But before I can allow myself that little imaginary excursion I have to deal with the more mundane workaday dialogue that leads up to that point - the stuff that I wrote on Friday and shall have to write again. So I'm off to the Southgate Wetherspoon's (because it's a lovely sunny, blue-sky sort of a day here in London and that pub catches the sun in the afternoons) to have a few pints and get a little writing done - that way it is not work!
The above artwork, someone sent me anonymously recently. It has nothing to do with the piece I have just been outlining to you but I love it because it nicely illustrates a situation I've had in mind whereby (albeit in a watered-down form) one of our heroines, now nicely ensconced in a secure institution, is visited by the woman responsible for having manipulated the situation and having the girl placed there in first place. One can imagine the bitter chagrin felt by the girl in having that woman witness her punishment first-hand.
Finally, thanks to a comment posted on my last article, I've become aware of a nice little blog for you to check out. A very personal affair, this one - but one also chockablock with nice vintage spanking and ‘spankable bottoms’ pictures. Called Doonstartwo (I'm not sure if there is a Doonstar one) you can click here or the blog title to visit it or see the blog list in the right-hand sidebar.
Sunday, 15 November 2009
Of London Parrots and Nurse-Spanked Schoolgirls
Tuesday, 18 August 2009
A Strict Nurse in Uniform and a Girl in Medical Restraints
Thursday, 13 August 2009
A comment, a Reply and a Good Excuse for a Few Magazine Scans from My Collection
Monday, 10 August 2009
A Little Snippet of Something
Friday, 7 August 2009
A confession and Another Blog to Visit
Saturday, 20 June 2009
An Anonymous Reader's Contribution and a Couple of Blogs to Try Out
Yes, I think that for my preference I'd have to go along with the 'drop seat' approach especially if in combination with a suitably bulky absorbent towel or even a diaper - should the young lady warrant it. I feel I really must apologise for having left a week between postings but I have been away, cycling around the East Sussex country side. From Monday (or Tuesday, depending on whether or not I do the London to Brighton cycle ride) I plan to return updating on a more regular basis, perhaps every other day as I used to. My trusty note book goes everywhere that I do and I have been working on putting together some ideas regarding the structuring of the 'inbetweeny' volume that I have been talking about recently and also as regards the revamped cover for volume 2 that I wish to get completed before publishing that volume fully, ie through Amazon et al. Meanwhile a couple of blog links have been sent to me that you might like to explore: the first is Britsh Spanking . net (just click to visit), the link wasn't working when I tried it just now and so I am presently holding back from including it in my sidebar blog list (I am sure this is a temporary glitch, though, so keep trying and let me know).
Thursday, 13 November 2008
How the Dodgiest of Design Work Can Inspire A New Direction…And A New Rubber Fetish Orientated Blog Link Added.
While undertaking a bit of desk research for my other half (a fashion journalist, as I have mentioned before) I recently came across this result of the collaboration between the dress designer Marc Jacobs and contemporary artist, Richard Prince. Of course I'd seen it many times before (I was actually at the show, but I don't like to name drop) but I had kind of forgotten all about it... although to tell the truth the collection did make quite an impact on me at the time.
And on the subject of PVC, latex et al I retrieved this particular little snap from The Rubber Betty Blog (see blog list or click the blog name here). If it does not look too exciting at first sight, persevere - there is a hell of a lot of stuff there if you can be bothered to spend a few minutes digging around. It's a lovely little site for those into the rubber fetish, particular if you're looking for vintage pictures (it's not really my bag but I know it is for many of you from the feedback I've had in the past. I have not really got much in the blog list for the PVC and latex lover - I think this blog will be the first, pretty much - but trust me I am searching around all the time and will add more as I come across them, plus blogs catering for other related fetishes.