The Delicious Discipline of Little Miss Pigtails Behind Bars

Not much I can say about this one, except it made for a pleasant distraction from slogging away at writing, the new book is coming soon (honest) - or at least the first part is - and it’ll have nothing to do with the implied storyline here.

Basically it surfaced while fishing around on my hard drive for a suitable example for the bookish heroine discussed last time and I again ran into that little miss pigtails pic I came across some time ago on Tumblr.

I have to say Tumblr is fast becoming my main source of inspiration nowadays, Easily outpacing all those old reader's letters and so on from the pages of Janus, Whispers, Blushes and all those compilation editions that used to hit the shelves back in the eighties, not to mention Justice and – much later - Februs.

Oh...  No one told me I'd got the word, orphanage, wrong in the title of my last post.  Are you all becoming as dyslexic as me?  Well, Ive fixed it now (I hope).

Lastly:  If you've emailed me recently or left a comment on here and are yet to receive a reply,  My apologies.  Rest assured that I will have read your missive, but I have had problems (again) with the home Internet connection.  I will be responding to as many outstanding emails as possible tonight and addressing as many comments as I have time to, so keep an eye open.

A Secure Orphanage and Care Home for Wayward Girls (and boys) The Free Republic of Toyntanenistan: Flying the Flag for The SHAM Initiative

No, its not a book cover, just something I knocked up inspired by some work I have been doing for artist, Roger Benson, making a flag for his reformatory artwork project to go in the book he is working on, and I got a little carried away.  

I have to say, though, that I quite fancy 'THE SHAM INITIATIVE' as the title of the new book I am working on, as it does sum up quite nicely an aspect of some of the later events that occur in the story arc.  I can't say any more than that for now, except to say the first part is probably no more than a week away now - keep 'em peeled!  

In other news:  I've also returned to doing a bit of work on the comic book project that I had going long ago in collaboration with the 3D computer artist, Angela Fox, and I'm preparing a brand new and exciting gallery for the ORIGINAL INSTITUTE website, of which more will be disclosed closer to its release date.

A Stern Leather-skirted Governess: What Could Be More Perfect for the New Year?

Happy New Year folks!

Sorry I wasn't around over Christmas but it is a bad time of the year for me, I was away from home for much of it, and I have been concentrating on trying to get the first part of the new book out.

On the few occasions I HAVE been at home I have been finishing off some artwork in collaboration with Roger Benson for his upcoming book (due out sometime in spring apparently).

Okay, lets move on to something else, to some pictures I stumbled across before Christmas – and the ideas that have been tumbling around in my brain ever since.

When I came across this little confection on Tumblr – home of so much great stuff these days - I just had to share it with you, not just the imagery but also the thoughts that pop up in my head every time I run my eyes over the collection (of which only two pics are presented here).

The website these pics originate from (see bottom of each photo) is actually a fem-dom site, and very good it is too if that's your 'bag' (it isn't mine particularly, but hey, that doesn't mean I don't get ANYTHING out of it!). But as you know MY thing tends to be F/f and F/fff - to use a bit of shorthand - and so in my eyes and my imagination the woman immediately becomes a governess placed in charge of one or more late-teen girls ('late-teens', 'of marriageable age' – I've been criticised for it before, and I hate using the terms. But what else can I do? Any ideas?).

She certainly ticks all the boxes as far as I'm concerned when it comes to how I'm imagine a governess, an image which has formed the basis of so many of the dominant characters in my books in the past, from the tight leather skirt to the fully-fitted stockings.

I'm guessing many, if not most, of you will be imaging this woman's charge as an intractable denim-wearing gum-chewing sort, too big for her boots and practically unmanageable by all but the most extreme means . For me though, on looking over our stern-looking governess, a prerequisite seems to be that the direct opposite should be true of her charge.

Imagine if you will a woman like this placed in charge, not of some boisterous tomboy or rebellious leather-jacketed boy-obsessed hell-raiser, but rather a modest shy bookish sort, the outcome of an over-protective sheltered upbringing and pampered privileged liberal private education. 

The only thing precocious about our precious young thing is her figure, which much to her embarrassment is burgeoning and overly mature for her age and which she attempts to play down with baggy loose pullovers and so on. 

Perhaps the girl is studious, perhaps she wears glasses, too, although still undeniably pretty, even IN spectacles.

I'd like to think she'd be generally well behaved, not at all like most teenagers (though she is just beginning to show signs of finding her feet – thus her guardian's new appointment) and has never given a day's trouble in her life, having mostly been away at boarding school in any case.

I know, I know! How inappropriate could you get?

Who on earth would employ this woman in such a role, a woman who looks more like a professional dominatrix than a governess, you're probably asking yourselves?

Who in their right mind would leave such a naïve quiet bookworm in the hands of such a woman, let alone give her cart blanch over the girl?

Well one of MY many and varied nefarious characters might!

But to me it is the wholly inappropriateness of the woman's appointment that is the root of the excitement. She really is the embodiment of the proverbial use of the iron bar to break the butterfly’s wings.

Think about the poor thing's reaction for a moment, consider how she might react to the news that she won't be returning to the overly relaxed atmosphere of her progressive boarding school for the final year, that now she is old enough to no longer be compelled by law to remain in full-time education her schooling will continue at home, behind closed doors, with this woman as her tutor and governess!  Just imagine her shock, too, on being informed her old nice cosy room with its posters of ponies and show jumpers, her gymkhana rosettes and row upon row of bookshelves and books is now off-limits and that a new room has been set aside for her, high up in the attic.

Looking at our governess, as I am now, I can well imagine that having be told that the girl's school has never required a uniform, nor has the girl ever worn a school uniform at any point in her life, outraged by that establishment's lackadaisical attitude and a sticker for formality herself , she will have been pawing over school wear catalogues. Indeed I can well imagine her, disenchanted by modern offerings, glorying in putting together a school uniform of her own devising, employing a talented seamstress of her acquaintance, taking her time, spending night after night, pen and sketchpad in hand, pawing over vintage catalogues, researching historic archives, picking and choosing what she sees as the best of each of several designs. A pleated skirt taken from one design, obviously, attached to a cross-over open-sided bodice taken from another, teamed with a puff-sleeved stripped blouse taken from yet another fitted with a high, stiff Eaton collar and tie. But no blazer, oh no, she will have decided against that. I think, having come across several pictures of Victorian schoolgirls wearing waist-length capes fastening at the neck, she'll be thinking of opting for a shorter version to top it all off, perhaps coming just a little below the girls buxom-looking bustline. Then fitted out in her new kit she'll have the girl upstairs to deal with her waist-length hair with the aid of a pudding basin and a pair of hairdresser's sheers – yes, she's THAT kind of woman!

So, the question is, am I the only one who'd prefer to such a woman placed in charge of a quiet well behaved bookworm? Or is the consensus in favour of the tomboy or preconscious brat that needs taming? And for either case, how would you imagine she would proceed to stamp her authority? Would there be any difference to her approach to each case, or would both be subject to the short sharp shock routine of a damn good hiding with the cane, strap or hairbrush?

Discuss!

Admission Procedures - No Need for Words

Those old admission procedures.  Who can forget those discussions and correspondences within Janus magazine's Reader's Letters pages back in the day?  But sometimes there is just no need for explanation!

A Smoking Addiction – And Not Just her Bare Behind after a Scorching Dose of the Cane!

Enforced or encourage addiction of any sort can be of interest for its potential to be put to use to further impose and enforce a régime of strict discipline and restriction.  

But I'm not too sure about this one , though! Other than the kidnapping theme, this has little to do with the new book I'm writing you may be relieved to know (or maybe not – let me know if it floats your boat; the sentiment behind it does it for me, if not the subject matter; I actually HATE smoking). 

I just happened upon the picture, and this is what popped into my addled little head. What more can I say?: 

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

“That's it! Keep watching the film – take a drag on the cigarette, take it deeep down, deeeeep, deeeep down, keep watching the film, listening to my voice... Yes, that's the way – good girl! The taste is so, so delicious, so very, VERY addictive. Tobacco! Hmmm! Yes! You want more and more and more – twenty a day, thirty a day, FORTY a day... Yes, why not FORTY a day? Imagine yourself lighting one after another after another, no guilt, sheer, SHEER pleasure, not able to stop, not WANTING to stop, lighting each from the previous before it goes out – no more worrying about your silly, silly athletics career, all that exhausting ruining and running and running... You're only going to be interested in where the next cigarette is coming from... That's it, finish it up – and then the nice kind nurse is going to put you back in your pyjamas and straitjacket and take you back to your room where you'll hear music playing over and over, the same music as in the film, that you're hearing now, and when you hear the music you'll remember the film, and needing a cigarette, being desperate, so desperate for a cigarette, craving just one more cigarette, craving, craving, craving...

OK – got that all down on tape?”

“Yep!”

“Good! AND the pictures, plenty of nice shots?”

“Yep! Those too!”

“Excellent! Perhaps now, when they see what we're doing to their little darling 'golden Girl', they're cave in to our demands a little more readily. OK, get her off to her room, safely under lock and key, and I'll have her back in here later this afternoon for another session... And make sure she stays awake! We'll keep it going as we have done these last few weeks - she can have two hours sleep after her session around mid-afternoon and two hours around midnight; and that's it! Any sign of dissent or disobedience or she tries to sleep, take a cane to her backside. I want her nice and sleepy – she's easier to handle that way.”

A Reconsideration of Values - Or: Putting Words in their Mouths, Thoughts in their Heads

Sometimes you stumble across a perfectly innocent scenario. Then the little demons that live in the imaginative subconscious kick in. An old background created for by the stalwart of 3D computer art, Angela Fox, (for the long-delayed, still to be completed, INSTITUTIONALISED comic-book project) happens to be at hand, and it just so happens that yours truly - while working on an image for and on behalf of Roger Benson yesterday and last night- had reason to assemble a new speech bubble... And it all just comes together.

I have to admit that like so much I have put out on my blogs of late, this has VERY little to do with the early sections of the - multi--part - book I am working on in its present incarnation, which does not, in its early stages at least, have much to do with any kind of institutional scenario. But it does make one think of what just might be plausible within the context - and under the auspices of - one of those early experimental psychology studies undertaken back in the days before ethics committees had much sway.  

The imagery that has imerged also explores an interest I have held for some time within the context of CP / discipline writing, that being the concept of having the subject submit to the strap or the cane in preference to something far worse and yet not necessarily involving PHYSICAL discomfort, and perhaps actually quite subtle, to the point of not even actually being perceived as punishment as such...  to begin with! In this case that less-preferable or less-tolerable option is also that self-same factor responsible for the subject buckling under the pressure to conform to the protocols or stipulations surrounding her residency. Here it is simply a well thought out régime of carefully planned boredom, petty rules and tedious rituals – all underlined by scrupulous isolation.

Interpretation,Inference, Imagination and Inspiration

This was something I knocked up for my Tumblr account recently, but I thought I'd share it here too, since I've no way of knowing the degree of overlap between my readership. It came about when I came across a series of pics based on the same dress but with different apron styles and one without entirely and was struck by the different interpretation one could place on the images. So I created and added in a brown leather riding crop for emphasis - and hey presto!

A blue dress. Just a blue dress. Looks kind of institutional perhaps? Some kind of uniform, then? But what does it say, what does it suggest to you? A different style of apron, and perhaps a hospital nurse. With the style of apron depicted... Well, what would you say? A waitress, a maid perhaps or other servant? Take away the apron altogether and it might even be a simple unsophisticated housewife pressing into service an old work dress or part of some sort of working uniform purchased in the local charity or thrift shop as an overall to do her housework in. Add in the riding crop though and all manner of scenarios spring to mind... Don't ya think?

It is such alternative interpretations as these, often carried out in the mind's eye, which have allowed so many of the ideas which crop (pardon the pun!) up in the novels I write to have often sprung from perfectly innocent images in newspapers, magazines or even women's workwear catalogues (an ex was once involved in the fashion industry and was working on a history of fashion in the workplace or some such thing).

I'd love to know what YOU think? Any examples of this sort of ambiguity of roles based on dress you can think of?