The “Good Doctor” is, of course, Doctor Who. If you don’t know who that is, you’re missing out and should get thee to a dvd rental place. Or onto the SciFi channel. (Or the BBC if you’re lucky enough to live in the UK.) Currently in its third series of this incarnation (the series and the Doctor date back to the 1960s), Doctor Who is wonderful television, even in weeks it isn’t set at a boy’s boarding school in 1913.
But oh, this week it was. And I’ve been having fantasies about it ever since Saturday night.
First off, I’m not alone in this spanking fantasy perving — the always adorable Haron over at The Spanking Writers has been blogging about this for days [and a quick look just now shows that Abel’s now gotten in on the act]. She posted a BBC picture of David Tennant (he’s the Doctor) in Edwardian schoolmaster garb holding a crook handled cane.
It’s a nice picture, full of moody shadows and I can see why she chose it, but I’ll opt for this one (thank you BBC for providing this and other lovely shots).
I love seeing Mr. Tennant in his schoolish garb, but also seeing the desks and the backs of the boys heads. With the perspective, I can easily imagine myself sitting in a back row, trying to concentrate on the history lesson, eyes drawn constantly to the cane / pointer held like a drawn sword by my teacher.
Have I imaged myself bent over one of those desks, struggling to be brave? Of course. But in my fantasies, Christopher Eccleston is still the Doctor. What can I say? He’ll always be my first.