Wednesday, 20 November 2013

Ladies Hysteria and the Wonders of Manual Manipulation

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"My beloved put his hand by the hole of the door, and my bowels were moved for him. I rose up to open to my beloved; and my hands dripped with myrrh, my fingers with liquid myrrh, on the handles of the bolt." (Song of Solomon 5:4-5, English Standard Version)
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Those Victorian's knew a thing or two didn't they! 
Didn't they? 
As far as women and sex were concerned, no, they didn't. You see it was all well and good chaps huffing and puffing and making an almighty row as they did what chaps do best. Like pigs with their snouts to the trough, humping away, banging like a hammer at a nail. Ladies though were expected to do their duty and not enjoy the event at all. 'Keep it silent pet, no hysterics please!'

Women may have enjoyed the regular as clockwork marital copulation but made scant mention of it preferring to seek a goodly doctor who would, under strict medical supervision and in the presence of a nurse no doubt, manually manipulate said female patient until the point of climax and beyond but only to relieve the poor creature from the rigors of stress and the inevitable hysteria that ensued. After this it was back home to hubby for another night of ...'Hold firm to the bedstead 'm'dear, I am about to launch meself!'



The patently male oriented society did not allow for female sexual gratification. All a woman had to do was lay down, open her splendid thighs a fraction,  keep still and keep quiet. No noise please and no face pulling. I have to say judging by these faces.that I find myself wondering if the gents in question provided correct stimulation or if indeed they were tickling someone else's fancy? If these ladies are experiencing pleasure let alone orgasm then someone, or something is not being applied as should.

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Husbands, disturbed by their wives behaviour thought it only proper to refer their partners to the safe care and attention of the local GP. Once in the surgery, with petticoats and dresses hoisted and after a sheet was lain over to cover the patients shame, the doctor would manually massage said lady until she 'released' her pent up 'anxieties,'  until her destabilising hysteria was freed.

This so called 'hysteria,' was a term taken from the Latin hystericus which means of the womb. It was manifested in weeping, nymphomania, melancholia, frigidity (?) and anxiety and was thought to be a mental disorder that stemmed from the uterus. 

The doctors paid to administer this medicinal service complained of sore wrists and stiff fingers and of the time spent in 'treating' the unwell females. One such GP, a bright spark it seems, then devised a mechanism which would alleviate weary hands and do the job in half the time. (Another male problem surely?)

In 1880, Doctor Mortimer Granville, his hand in splints and his arm in plaster, patented the electromechanical massage machine. It was in fact the first vibrator even if it looked like something out of an Alan Moore steam-punk fiction.




Not being familiar with such a machine the only perspective I can offer, and from a very male point of view is this - was the above machine  not a hell of a lot noisier than a woman in the throes of ecstasy? 
Judging by the looks on the face of the actress below there was also an element of Oooooo! about the whole business anyway.
A shame those Victorians didn't get to see 'When Harry met Sally.'



So then ladies, would any of you modern gals like to buy, one user only and in V Good condition, this delightful bringer of heavenly delights? No electricity needed just a full head of steam. A bit like hubby really when the mood takes him.



Russell Cuts the Corn From The Brewers Whiskers and redresses the balance.

5 comments:

Vanessa V Kilmer said...

You are hysterical. :) I can't even think what else to say I'm laughing so much.

Helena Philomena Liebekraft said...

I personally wouldn't let that contraption anywhere near my bits!
I find myself quite handy when it comes to relieving my own hysteria.

Iryna Harpy said...

I have to say, Russell, that I've done a little reading on 'Victorian' concepts of female sexuality. Seriously, Vatican-approved nightdresses for males and females with only a hole cut in for the rude bits when procreation was deemed necessary by the husband?

Naturally, while they were only interested in inseminating their 'virtuous' wives for purposes of multiplication, they were down the local slut houses for hot sex or bonking other blokes. Tickle my clit and call me crazy if it's inconceivable that needlepoint and mediocre pianoforte skills shouldn't keep gentlewomen satisfied.

Russell Duffy said...

Iryna, that last para had me in stitches. Absolutely spot on. The Victorians followed on after the Georgians and, as any one who has read John Cleland or Henry Fielding will know, the twain never would meet.

Russell Duffy said...

Quite handy being the operative word. Me? I am in love with Suzie Palmer.