Actually, it has been surprising just how much interest there has been in the whole pyjama concept and so, thanks to an anonymous contributor who wrote to tip me off, I have today added a link in the sidebar blog list to 'Girls Pyjama Spanking'. I couldn't resist taking a quick gander and found it to be a fascinating blog, the most recent posting featuring a marvellous little photo set based around a delectable little thing called Kami Robertson. Needless to say I also couldn't resist having a quick Google around her name looking for more examples and of course I got sidetracked, but in so doing was led to the work of an artist that I hadn't come across before called Kami Tora, see the art work above left - just click on it to see more of his work or look out for the link in the 'Useful Resources' section of the right-hand sidebar. Of course I then had to Google for a bit more of this artist's work which in turn lead to yet another diversion and the evocative little photo, below on the right - I have yet to visit the site it originated from - WWW.nurse-helena.fr - in fact I dare not as I just know that I would get totally sidetracked and get absolutely nothing done for the rest of the day.
So from this point all it's back to the grindstone, although it is not all been frivolous Web surfing today. To go back to the 'Girls Pyjama Spanking' blog again, just for the moment; I came across a comment posted by blog's writer as regards the featured pyjama-clad girl saying something along the lines of how, despite one particular pair looking perhaps a little large on her, nevertheless once the girl was bent over her " perfectly round bum filled them gloriously ". Of course the depicted pyjamas are nothing like the baggy shapeless green and white stripey institutional things I envisage our heroine, in but it was that bit about her bum filling them that " gloriously" that got me thinking. There is a similarity to a certain piece of dialogue that I've been working on over the last couple of days, just something that the institution's psychiatrist mentions about wanting to see the girl in her charge " fill out those pyjamas". I've been thinking that what with the girl only possessing that one pair that the doctor has given her and being confined either to the doctor's office - where she is questioned day in day out - or the little room that leads off of it, with the minimal facilities that implies, several weeks or perhaps a couple of months in to her residency those pyjamas are unlikely to feel so fresh on. When she is informed that her guardian will be paying her a visit in addition to the humiliation engendered by her appearance she is horrified by the way that woman will perceive her personal hygiene.
By now the shapeless pyjama bottoms no longer fit quite so loosely around her waist hips and bottom and despite any misgivings she may have regarding her blossoming figure she has at least cheered by the fact that she no longer has to continually struggle to keep them from falling around her ankles - something she would find particularly humiliating in front of her hated guardian. One can imagine the relief when she is reassured by the doctor that in return for some new level of co-operation she will be rewarded with a nice fresh crisp clean pair - then comes the dilemma. The good doctor lets slip that the only pair available in the girl's size are the ones she has one - the nice new clean pair she holds up in front of the girl are a good couple of sizes too large. If she wants to wear these in front of her visitor she can but with this privilege comes a price; she must bend for six strokes of the doctor's cane across her bare behind just prior to meeting her visitor. She must also accept the equally baggy and shapeless bloomers that come with the new pyjamas and which of course, like the pyjamas, are also devoid of waist elastic or any other method of fastening at the waist. She has been told many many times that pyjama cords, lengths of elastic and the like can present a danger to psychiatric patients - the implication is not lost on her and the tedium of having to constantly walk around holding up her pyjama trousers and now her underwear keeps that thought ever fresh and in the front of her mind. She has a choice but there is a deep element of humiliation attached to either. In addition there is the bitter humiliation of the meeting itself haunting her; she is told that she is to greet her guardian pleasantly and politely, she is to thank the woman for being kind enough to visit her, she had to say how well she is being looked after in the hospital and how thankful she is for being under the good doctor's care. She also has to recite in detail the long list of ways her therapy is benefiting her - a list ingrained by hour upon hour of tedious line writing impositions under the doctor's supervision - and how at home she is now beginning to feel in the institution. The latter is not entirely an untruth given her months of isolation and almost constant indoctrination at the hands of a skilled psychologist. Throughout, she is told, she must sit up straight with her hands on her head, listening without comment to everything her guardian has to say. If given certain papers and documents to sign she is to do so without question or hesitation. The doctor is going to be present throughout the visit and any failing on the girl's part will earn her six strokes of the doctor's cane across her bare buttocks in front of her visitor and another six strokes later on, once her visitor has left, followed by a prolonged period of isolation locked in the cramped little anteroom with just the hospital bed and desk for company..And a surprisingly subtle punishment of the doctor's own devising of which I shall say no more for fear of giving too much away.
See you later, folks. PS: don't forget, the beer drinkers amongst you, that is the London Beer Festival at Camden Town Hall on Wednesday Thursday and Friday of this week, though I'm not sure yet which day I shall attend.