One More Peg Down - Many More To Go?

 I've been hard at work using my AI art platform creating images to eventualy put together as my take on that Lad-To-Maid 'Caroline' tale I've come to love so much mostly concentrating on the Caroline to Bella reeducation / brainwashing aspect but thought I'd digress for a moment and post an image the AI came up with while I was prompting it for something else entirely.I can't quite decide if she's dressed in PVC or latex. I was prompting for PVC  because the AI doesn't like latex for some reason and prompting for it produces 'unsafe images' warnings but I think it all looks a bit 'latex' to me. here's a link to that story by the way for those who haven't yet read it...  Lady-To-Maid

The Toyntanen Take On That Old Written Impostion Theme: The Taped Dictation

 

The Good Doctor's Experiment Begins

I've also revamped so female dominant psychiatrist pictures via AI and so the image below includes AI generated girls and a version of my AI generated evil psyciatrist which I have added by using photo manipulation techniques.  For some reason I have found it impossible to convince the AI to create two entirely different characters in one image. The image below I fust loved immediatly. It was nothing like the other images the same prompt led to. I loved the fussy uniforms and those facial expresions are priceless and immediatly led to the soryline I cooked up. I just had to add in the cane (the AI won't do canes) and my dominant psychiatrist figure. A 'hands on heads'image would be absolute magic but as yet I have been unable to convince the AI to do one of those either.

There's not much to say about this one beyond what is already on there except to put my hands up to having been heavily inspired by a story published some time ago on the Ladies Becoming Maids blog http://lady2maid.blogspot.com/  and a story which involved all manner of what were basicaly brainwashing techniques and some really quite good psychology...so going down that track and considering some of the ideas - and interpreting them in the context of experimental psychology - I started to think...hmmm...what if someone were to take a group of young adults and deliberatly dress them, talk to them and treat them as children?  It was the age regression thing which interested me most in the aformentioned story I've been aluding to (see below - I don't think the link works, so use it as a Google seach term).  There is also the use of drugs - and even an induced coma at one point - and someone commented that they'd never seen drugs used in the context of a tale of domination. Well, I have invoked deliberate drug addiction (prescription drugs) as a means of gaining control over someone in one of my books years ago.

Story: The Education and Rehabilitation of Miss Caroline ...

 

AI, Going Off On A Tangent, Somehow Hits Paydirt...

 ...albeit with a bit of help from the ol' Toyntanen imagination aided and abbeted by my ol' mate: The Gimp! So -  to cut a long story short - I'd written some prompts (instructions to the AI art image generator) involving hypnotic patterns and devices (still persuing the ol' MC thread
I've become fond of over the years) and late teen girls in schol uniforms in various situations, such as private secure psychiatric instituitions and various dubious - and likely corrupt - 'care' homes and so on....and all of a sudden, amongst the dross, weird stuff involving multiple limbs and so on and total failiors out pops this charming little study. I mean, apart for the fact you can just make out the white 'V' of her knickers under the tiny skirt, it's an absolutly innoculous scene...But what of all those hamburgers??? hmmmm???? What, well...MIGHT be going on??? I mean to say: She doesn't seem the sort to be wanting to stuff her face with all that grub! but perhaps...just PERHAPS...she has no, or very little, choice in the matter? Well, that's just how the ol' Toyntanen grey cells seem to work. 

Usualy when the AI throws up something NOT like a photographic image and looking instead as if drawn or painted I pretty much bin it straight away, but not so in this case - there was just something...I dunno...just sort of...charming about it. Ideal starting fodder for to work on using my favorite photo manip package, namely the afformention programe The Gimp!  The storyline, to me at least, was obvious. To be honest I fondly imagined I'd put something together around this as a starting point in a few hours, an evening at worst. It ended up sort of evolving through very many itterations and the result you see here is the result of around two and a half days near continuous work as each idea I managed to succesfully realsise led to the next idea and challange.

 

By the way:I just HAD to put in the, now obligatory, barred window. The idea of an element of some sort of imprisonment or control - whether physical, psychological or both (I've become more and more interested in the potential of psychological manipulation / coercion alone over the years) - seems essential to me in any such storyline.

Please DO let me know what you think..whether positive or negative (come on, folks, I can take it!...Probably!)

Before I go...Here is another spurious image the AI spewed out - this one only today, just a few hours ago - and once again, having very little to do with the type and subject matter of the images I was asking for. Actualy, I'd wager that if I tried actualy prompting for an image such as this the AI would flag up a 'safety issue' ans ask me to modify the prompt accordingly. I might not have been deliberatly trying for this image but now that it's here, let's not waste it!

 

Two questions...What is going through your mind right now as you look at it? And what would you add in order to embelish it - or would you just leave well alone? (Or do you just instantly hate it (some will, I know) becasuse - perhaps - it implies mental health issues?)

More AI Image Experiments...Prison Girls

 I had been experimenting with generating more adult school uniforms and gave the AI a little more free rein and it suddenly generated this...And my first thought was "hmm...that looks more like it might be a prison uniform" And of course that concept wouldn't nessesarily be at odds with the kidnapped young women theme I've been playing around with of late. This might be a much later stage and in a different part of the building wherein  a small private prison has been constructed now that it has been decided not to send them back to their families at all. I'd imagine perhaps four small windowless cells, a work room, which is where they are here, learning the prison rules, but usualy they'd be engaged in making bespoke hand made prom dresses and so on - just like they might once have worn - and a medical room furnished with all the equpment nessesary to ensure plenty of deep red faces...There's even a woman wearing a prison wardress uniform to help ensure the girls are completly immersed in their new lives...I don't know what it is but I just love how frumpy those uniform dresses are...I also like the idea that now that they can't say, or even remember, their own names they have become just numbers. I imagine that by this point they have seen the fake newspaper with the headline saying that the police were no longer searching for them since they are presumed dead and that has pretty much broken their spirits

Actualy this image is the best parts of three similar, but faulty, images the AI produced all photomanipulated together

More On Those Three Kidnapped Young Women

 SO...I'm still playing with AI image generation although this particular image is largely photomanipulation and only the heads arms and hands are AI generated...The arms, hands and heads are from an AI image sent me by a friend while the faces were generated by the AI platform I am using... The glass block widow I put in because the possibilities are so interesting...If it is really thick it is going to be just as secure as a barred window while not allowing any kind of meaningful view of the outside world and quite soundproof while still allowing some natuaral light in, but probaly not so much that the light can be turned off...BUT... It might be that the glass block wall is actualy just that - a wall. This could be anywhere in a house or other building, perhaps a loft or even a large basement split up into a series of rooms...The glass block walls, illuminated from behind and with that illumination periodicaly faded and brightend - and the room lights kept on 24 hours a day - would quickly destroy any real sense of the passage of time 

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'

Sexual Reorientation?

 No time for words. I need to get down the pub. Last night's beer is wearing off!!!!

Writing Home...

 ...or just further mind training for our three captive young women?

Futher Down That Silent Treatment Road

 I think she's tried to beg to stay at that wndow just a litte longer but it's clear that in addition to having had her face slapped she's also been the recipient of a fair dose of the cane...I've done a bit of work on the straitjacket too in the hope that Angela might feed it back into her AI thingy to try and get a better and more realistic version...BTW The nurse has a new head

 I'm not sure about the face slapping and that she's had a dose of the cane. In hindsight I think her treatment perhaps ought to be restricted to simply being totaly ignored...Any thoughts?

One Month In To Year Two In Captivity

 And it's quite remarkablewhat has been achieved with the girls. This one had ambitions to become a proffesional dancer and the girl next to her had been on the verge of a career as a fashion model...

A Bit More Humiliation

 

 I'm not sure at exactly what point in the storyline of our three prety kidnaped young women this fits but I'd say relativly early on. It obviously follows on from the events depicted in my previous posting - and I think that the ransom has probably already been paid by all three families - but the three girls are not yet undergoing hypnosis and the various behavioural modification and obedience training techniques they will encounter as time passes by...Perhaps they have been captive for two to three months or so, but that two to three months of unrelenting strict disciplne and hours upon hours of written impositions seated at old Victorian style school desks is already having a marked effect...By the way, I'm not at all sure those photographs are ever destined to go anywhere near the girls' families and friends...What do you think?

Control, Discipline and Psychological restraint: Learning Need be Only a Very Poor Relation

Above are some pages I scanned some time ago from a book on disciplinary techniques in my possession. I hasten to add that I was not the writer, nor did I have any input to its creation (although I do wish I had been the author). I must also hasten to add that these pages are taken somewhat out of context and that elsewhere it is made abundantly clear that wherein the authors use the term 'child', what is meant by that term is young ladies of late teenage years or even in their early twenties.

Although terms such as 'schoolroom' and 'school' are used fairly freely, it is clear that the disciplinary techniques and methods of control laid out, especially as pertains to the discussion of the psychological effects of the various disciplinary impositions and non-physical punishments described, are intended for - and are most amenable to - young ladies living under controlled and - shall we say – somewhat 'enclosed' circumstances, well removed from the public eye.

So one imagines an heiress and her sister living under the close control and watchful eye of their strict governess and seldom seen outside of the wing in which they are confined, let alone the main house - and never outside the security of the grounds, quiet and subdued and with complexions pleasingly pallid, being free of the unrequited kiss of sunlight. Or one thinks of the privately setup and discreet, seemingly scholastic, institution whose true reason for being is to teach discipline for the sake of discipline, but more importantly for the satisfaction of others.

Or perhaps there is scope within another field, that of experimental psychology. Perhaps there might be some secure institution where runaways might volunteer to enter for a few weeks respite from the frozen winter city streets or where girls, deemed likely to fall into 'moral danger', might find themselves placed by a charitable agency ‘for their own good. Indeed might there not be some who for one reason or another would be well willing to actually pay for a girl to be placed in such an institution?

It is more in the context of the latter vein that I have been leafing through the work in recent times. In terms of the three pages set out above, the parts that stood out most in my eyes I have placed together to the left. To understand where I am coming from with this the thing to do is to look at it in the context of the so-called 'monster study' of the 1930s (which I've mentioned before) in which stuttering was quite deliberately induced in test subjects simply by making them self-aware of such deficits as hesitations and repetitions of words, no matter how slight such deficits might have been to begin with.

This was accomplished merely by halting the subject, pointing out the stumble or hesitation, making the subject repeat herself at that point and offering advice that was, in actuality, intended to make the subject even more self-aware of her deficit. Now imagine, in a suitably secure environment, a young lady not only exposed to such therapy but also undergoing a regime of constant reinforcement outside of the psychologists room - which of course she is obliged to attend each day - by means of the instant retribution of the cane or the strap across the palms of the hands, backs of the thighs, or indeed the bare buttocks. As one of the extracts says, "[under such circumstances] it is common for more mistakes than normal to be made due to nervousness and the pressure of the occasion".

And for a petulant, once stubborn young thing, sadly afflicted by confidence-devastating speech deficit, how much more difficult it must seem to stand up against those that would seek to curb her, impose their will and discipline on her and keep her there in that institution under their care, whether she should like it or not, behind the barred window.

Drip, Drip, Drip - Just an Idea

I'd been working hard, of course, on proofreading volume 2 and it is coming on in leaps and bounds now, although I must admit that I spent the majority of yesterday in a pub in Enfield working on an idea I came up with some time ago for INSTITUTIONALISED volume 2 . I just thought it would be fun to share it with you and see what feedback I get. Basically it is a scene in which a girl has been repeatedly refusing to fully take part in her one-to-one sessions with the psychotherapist. While she insists on this policy of non-compliance she is being kept in an isolated room in between sessions. As, for reasons I won't go into here, she is in plaster casts, she is generally confined to bed and is on a drip-feed. She is thoroughly restrained while in her hospital bed, the worry being that she might twist her back and neck (which may or may not have been injured in an accident previously) a broad webbing strap runs across her forehead to restrain her head and protect her neck while she sleeps (there is also a neck brace involved). The strap has a three centimetre diameter circular hole in its centre - nothing that sinister so far you may think.
The tube from her drip feed hangs across the head of her bed and of course naturally sags in the centre at the point where a coupling connects together two lengths of tubing to extend the run over to the cannula in her wrist on the opposite side. It is in the centre of that deeply sagging section, just above her forehead where the drip first begins to form, the liquid dribbling along the tubing from one of the joints, the golden, viscous heavy oily fluid gathering and growing and stretching until…until…it falls, icy stabbing cold and splashing down dead centre on her pretty little forehead, straight through that conveniently placed opening in the head restraint strap…over and over again.
Of course talking without permission is not allowed and complaining of the fault, having been finally driven to distraction, to one of the nurses that share shifts and sit silently reading by her bed side, only gets her bent across the bed for a few strokes of the cane…then the drip feed is refilled and it all starts again…deprived of sleep she is taken once every 24 hrs to the therapists office and if not yet convinced to co operate? well, then its straight back to bed…drip, drip, drip…

Enforced Weight Gain: A Possible Story Thread Or Just Too Cruel?

As those of you that are regular visitors may have guessed by the paucity of posts in the last few days, my Internet connection has been decidedly dodgy. There are bursts of noise on my phone line that continually knock the modem off which is why few, if any images, accompany the posts that I have made recently. Meanwhile I've been working away on writing and now have quite a body of work for both volumes 2 and 3 and perhaps even for a fourth volume (it might seem strange working on two volumes at once but I have a lot of ideas and they don't necessarily all fit together in a linear pattern). I am I going to be staying at a friend’s house for the next few days (where they have a good fast broadband connection) while the local telecoms company fixes my line. I have just loaded up all of my old files, scans and images etc onto a DVD, which I am going to be taking with me, so I can load it all on to a computer there and get this blog properly up and running again.

Anyway for now I am mostly posting text, images take a little longer to upload and the connection tends to crash while it's happening. But once I'm working from my friend's address, ie over the next few days, I'll start posting suitably illustrative (I hope) images and start tagging them on to the big, wordy, text-rich things I have recently posted.

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Enforced Weight Gain: A Possible Story Thread?

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Meanwhile: as anyone out there in blog-land ever had any thoughts about the subject of enforced weight-gain? Now, I'm not thinking along the lines of the ‘feeder’ style stories wherein the author's wife, girlfriend or whatever becomes a three hundred pounds blubber-whale. (If you know where there are any suitable weight gain stories or relevant blogs, please let me and I'll add the necessary links to them - one of the things I am trying to create with this blog is a sort of multidimensional multi fetish resource node).

I am not saying that the following vignette or prospective plot development will actually make its way into any part of the INSTITUTIONALISED series, but it is an idea I've been toying with and there is a nice subtlety to the cruelty involved (if exploitative cruelty can ever be subtle). Forget canes, the tawse, martinets, chains and prison bars for a moment - think instead: food (yes, food), mealtimes, weighing sessions, measurement sessions, long hours standing in front of mirrors with hands-on head - think enforced inactivity, think agoraphobia rather than restraints.

What I have in mind is far, far crueller; imagine, if you will, a lithe young thing - always has one eye on the mirror, the other on the calorie sheet. She misses meals but never aerobic sessions; she drops pounds but never dance classes. She has already done a bit of catwalk work and quite successfully at that, but she has prodigious talent and her passion is the ballet, the Royal Ballet at that, nothing less than prima ballerina will do for her - and she has the potential to make it. She has a future place lined up at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts, should she wish to accept it, but her problem, as with so many aspiring young things today, is her lack of funding. She has a small regular allowance from her late father's estate but the bulk is all tied up and under someone else's control until she reaches the age of 21. Her father's intention had always been that she should gain financial control of her affairs at age 18 but having suffered a crisis of confidence (and therein hangs another interesting tale) she has fairly recently been persuaded, with some reluctance it must be said, to forego that privilege and accept the more traditional age of majority - a day that lies some five years off, or very nearly.

There is little in terms of part-time work available to her, and more importantly, that she would be willing to accept - she sees herself as flying far above such things. The sun-drenched summer months stretch ahead but that time will pass all too soon – yet that narrow window is all she has if she is to gain her financial independence, drag herself from under her stepmother's thumb and grasp her future.

She finds it hard to believe the amount on offer for just a three month residential stay in a West Country care home as part of a research project. No novel drug trials are involved, she is assured - all the work carried out comes under the general heading of behavioural psychology and involves being monitored in a ‘controlled environment’ (she is uncertain as to exactly what that means - but it sounds safe enough) and undergoing certain simple psychological tests at baseline and from time to time throughout the trial period. She understands that should she fail to complete the full three month trial she will get nothing. But the notion of spending three sun filled months wandering through the spectacular rural hospital grounds depicted in the brochure, occasionally reporting to some laboratory for a few tests, or lying back watching television in a beautifully appointed room that would put most high-quality hotels to shame, would seem to make that caveat a remote possibility indeed.

Of course, as those of you who have read INSTITUTIONALISED volume 1 already know (or as those of you who've ever read any of the extracts or story ideas I have ever posted on the newsgroups etc will now) she is unlikely to see much of those balmy summer days and little of the fluffy white clouds drifting above, let alone the hospital’s lush green conifer-bordered parkland grounds. Not once she is behind the high walls and steel security grilles of that institution and safely ensconced in the protective womb of the secure psychiatric wing…

… at this point, and through discussion with the project’s supervising psychologist, enters the dietician…

(Oh my God! I can see it all, now, it's delicious - if you pardon the pun! I just hope it's not too cruel because I really like it - what does that say about me? No, I don't want to know.)

PS: if you don't know what a dietician is, or does, (and let's face it, not everybody does) just ask – I’m married to one (someone has to be!).

PPS: have dictated this using voice recognition, straight out of my head and purely for the blog. I haven't had much time to check it so it may contain all sorts of strange grammatical errors and typos. When I have a bit more time later on I'll go over it again and correct whatever needs doing as well as add some sort of suitable illustration (possibly).