by Lady Carlton née Katie O’Roarke, heroine of “The Blonde Samurai”
I shall ignore for today’s posting that you are a lady of quality and are inclined to shy away from a discussion about what the ancient Celts called “self-love.” Still, I wish to enlighten you on a delicate subject: dildos. (You can blame my brashness on my Irish heritage if that allows you to keep reading.)
Hidden away from curious upturned eyes in the deep entrails of the world’s museums, I have no doubt you will find everything from Ice Age stone dildos to leather dildos from ancient Greece and, in the bedrooms of the upper class, dildos made of rubber known as “The Widow’s Comforter.”
Enter the steam-powered massager or vibrator, patented by a forward-thinking American physician in 1869. I’ve heard rumors that physicians in a hospital in Paris are experimenting with genital massage of female patients to produce, if you will excuse the term, physical excitement that can only be described as glorious.
Vibrators are, from what I understand, in great demand by physicians whose practice involves genital massage, which has been recorded as standard treatment for headaches and irritability since the first century. Accordingly they are able to treat their female patients for a common malady known as “hysterical paroxysm” (better known as “sexual deprivation”) more efficiently with these machines.
Such an electromechanical vibrator reduces a physician’s time from an hour to ten minutes, meaning he can see more female patients in need of the orgasm they aren’t getting anywhere else. I have no doubt women will soon demand to buy them for home use.
Speaking of home use, as I wrote in my memoir, The Blonde Samurai:
“I didn’t let that stop me from continuing my search for self-gratification and from imagining what delights such an implement could bring to me. A pleasure so exquisite that a secret longing deep in my belly made me shiver with anticipation.
“That indefinable hunger drove me to explore other means to find satisfaction, though I hesitate to share it with you if you’ve turned pale and are experiencing indigestion because of the indelicate subject matter. Skip over these next few pages if you must, but I’ll not deny these enticing thoughts ran through my mind on many a lonely day.
“Such as today. Desiring not to be disturbed, I closed the curtains and locked the door to my rooms before I opened the polished wooden box lined with red velvet. Sitting next to my china ring stand shaped like a tiny tree with willowy branches, the dark walnut box held the jewels James had given me on our wedding day, as propriety dictated.
“Family heirlooms including a garnet necklace surrounded by stars, a diamond brooch with a large ruby in the center and a turquoise bracelet set off with diamonds. Cold stones given with a cold heart.
“The box contained another jewel. One I enjoyed wearing above all others. Sleek, round and bulbous. The energy oozing from it when I slipped it inside me awakened my soul with a gentle vibration I could only describe as magic.
I warned you it was a delicate subject. But you couldn’t resist, could you?
February 2010: meet The Blonde Samurai
“She embraced the way of the warrior. Two swords. Two loves.”