Penelope Maidenhead

Publisher's Note: The following is the unedited and unabridged diaries of Penelope Maidenhead, female adventurer and Hysteria sufferer. For those unfamiliar with the disease Hysteria was a condition discovered by Victorian doctors that explained much of the feminine propensity for lack of emotional control, and illogical behaviour. One of the most unfortunate side-effects, of course, was an overdeveloped, and uncontrollable sex drive. Hundreds of medical professionals devoted thousands of hours to trying to help these poor women with this crippling disease. Many of them developed maladies of their own including, but not limited to, Lockjaw, Hand Cramps, Arthritis, Rug Burns, Genital Calluses, and Exhaustion.

These journals, published for the first time, offer a glance into the world of one of these sufferers beginning as the voluptuous redhead, her blonde friend, and fellow sufferer Kate Laycock, and their maid Sita, from British India, accompany Penelope's father, Dr.Maidenhead, and her fiancé Desmond Mandrake to a remote island in the Bahamas in search of a Hysteria cure.

April 16, 1861

Today we arrived in port here in the Bahamas. I stood on deck, with Kate, and my new maid Sita, and watched the sailors bring us in as smooth as silk. I'm sorry I haven't been able to keep you updated fully these last few days, Diary, but I'm afraid I've been busy taking care of the sick on board the HMS Hidden Trumpet. As you know, Diary, I, and my friend Kate, suffer from that most heinous of feminine afflictions. Hysteria. Father has dedicated his life to finding a cure, or at least a way to curb my affliction, but I fear no relief will ever come.

Ever since my fruitful vine began blooming flowers on a monthly basis, I have been consumed by an overabundance of female humours, and only through stimulation can they be released, and I live an almost normal existence. At first Father denied it, forcing me to try and treat myself, but the amount of time I spent relieving my pressure, so to speak, interfered with my studies so he was forced to step in.

At first he instructed my maid to manually stimulate me so I could continue my schoolwork, but the poor dear wound up confined to a home for invalids with crippling arthritis in less than a year. Such a shame, and she was only twenty-seven. Then he turned his fortune and his medical degree to trying various mechanical solutions, with various degrees of success. His most promising invention has been a steam powered vibrating piston device with 2 speeds, but I tend to burn them out in only a few weeks. Kate, who came to live with us after her family tried to have her put in the St. D'lish Home for Hysteria and School of Burlesque, is even worse. She's lucky to have one last more than a couple of days. Here lately we've been able to keep ourselves in line through a combination of methods, and Father wants to try some medicinal compounds.

I'm afraid I'm rambling again Diary. See, Desmond, my fiancé of the past three years, who has been my rock through the trying times of my illness, despite his own health problems, has seen his own troubles on this voyage. As you know Desmond and I became engaged after Father drew his name from a hat during my fifteenth birthday party. Despite some protests, and an insistence that he couldn't possibly handle a woman with my condition, Father convinced him. I'm not sure exactly how, Father sent me from the room, but I know Desmond couldn't be by my side fast enough. In fact, the next morning he was bruised, and bloody from falling down the stairs trying to reach my room.

Desmond though, suffers from the same affliction that has claimed his Uncle, some cousins, and several of his school chums, Constipasus Itchitosis. He, and the others, suffer from severe constipation, to the point that they feel a near constant itching sensation in their colon. The only relief they can find is to insert various objects into their anus, and desperately try to dislodge the blockage with vigorous thrusts. I've lost count of the times I, or someone else in the house, have found Desmond in some corner, or unused room hammering away at his colon with everything from candles to Father's steam powered vibration cure. When the Captain and several other crewmembers discovered his illness they volunteered to try out a method they had discovered on long voyages. With my blessing he disappeared into the crew decks, and wasn't seen until the next morning when they carried him, semi-conscious and incoherent back to his cabin.

After being informed by a crewmember, a rather uncouth man named Reg, that he probably wouldn't be able to walk for a while, I sat by my betrothed's bedside, and fed him broth until he could rise under his own power again. In his delirium he would recite random bits of poetry, most notably Walt Whitman, and burst into shanties without warning. I was wakened several times by delirious outbursts of "Oh Captain, My Captain".

And wouldn't you know, Diary, no sooner was Desmond up and about than Kate was bedridden for 2 days. Of course, HER problem was letting half the engine crew help her with one of her Hysteria fits, so she didn't get any sympathy from me!

Well, that's enough for now, Diary. I feel an attack coming on, and have to find Kate, and Sita. Sita has said she's going to teach us a NEW method for dealing with our Hysteria, that involves the study of, and application of witty language. She said she learned all about Cunning Linguists, and its uses battling Hysteria while studying the Comet Suture.

April 17, 1861

Well, Diary, last night was a real eye opener as it turns out Sita's treatment, has nothing to do with language at all. It does involve the mouth, lips, and tongue extensively though. I'll explain.

I retired to the bedchamber of the rooms Father procured for Kate and I, and found Sita was already there, and inspecting the various medical devices that are kept handy to treat our condition. She seemed especially enamored of the Vibrating Resonator, Father's steam powered contraption that he had repaired earlier that day. After exchanging proper greetings, she enquired about its operation, and I was about to explain when Kate suggested she just try it out. As you can imagine, I was taken aback by such a suggestion, to share something so personal with the help was unheard of for women of our breeding, and I said so quite vehemently. Kate, who was already stripping off her own clothing, just laughed, LAUGHED, and began to prime the motor for use. I was about to walk out, for decency's sake if nothing else, but my need to receive my treatment was becoming overwhelming, so I stayed.

While the device reached the appropriate pressure, and Kate showed Sita how to properly lubricate its moving parts, I stripped down as well. Unlike Sita, and Kate, I had the proper sense of mind to leave my shoes on rather than be indecent by exposing my feet, and toes.

Sita, a healthy woman with a voluptuous figure that contrasts with Kate's more slender frame quite noticeably, lowered herself onto the Vibrating Resonator slowly, gasping as the cold lubricant touched her nether regions, and moaning with delight as the leather wrapped piston disappeared into her. She took a few moments getting into a comfortable position astride the device, grinding her hips against it to insure the lubricant was well distributed like Kate had instructed her to do. One bad friction burn had taught us both the wisdom of that maneuver, Diary, and we had never strayed from that lesson since. Quite understandably by this point, I had begun to manually stimulate myself in an effort to relieve the imminent Hysteria attack.

With a quite wicked grin Kate turned the machine on, and then asked Sita if she was ready to start. Well, whatever answer the girl was going to give was drowned out in the combination of the motor firing, and her own pleasure as the piston began its cyclic motion. Kate watched her with a curious longing, as she, like me remembered all the times the device had allowed us to find relief, and remain proper society ladies. Within moments Sita was lost in a haze of physical sensation, grinding against the saddle with eyes shut, and mouth open to emit little squeals of delight with every thrust.

How Kate was able to stand it I'll never understand, for I was rubbing myself with furious abandon, feeling my excess fluids, or Quim, coat my fingers, thighs, and even the floor as Sita rode the Resonator to ever higher planes of pleasure in front of us. I felt my own release quickly approaching as Sita leaned forward supporting herself with one hand while the other twisted her pierced nipples in what seemed to be painful motions, but seemed, incredibly, to bring her even more pleasure. I caught Kate watching me with an approving grin, which turned downright wicked as she reached over, without breaking eye contact, and switched the machine to full speed. Sita arched her back, and her squeals turned into a growl. She gritted her teeth, sweat pouring down her dusky smooth skin, and grunted with each powerful full-on thrust of the Resonator. Suddenly she threw her head towards the ceiling, and let loose a howl of delight that would have done Aphrodite herself proud.

At this point my own desires overwhelmed me, and I joined her in riding the wave of sensations that swept over us. My own reactions tend to be more subdued, and proper, consisting of lip biting, and energetic whimpering until I feel it pass. As I lay there, basking in the warm glow that comes from knowing my treatment was successful, I heard Kate ask Sita her opinion of the Resonator. I couldn't make out a response, so I sat up, and discovered Sita lying on the floor with a look of beatific contentment on her face, and giving soft little giggles as aftershocks of release rippled through her. I thought of giving her a few minutes to recover fully, but knew Kate needed treatment, so I ordered her up to show us this new technique for treatment she had.

Well, Diary, it turns out to be called Cunnilingus, and it's downright scandalous in its execution. Sita instructed Kate to lie back on the bed, and spread her legs. She then explained that through careful application of the lips, mouth, and tongue to the afflicted area, temporary relief could be found. Crawling up the bed she began to kiss, KISS, Kate's neck while stimulating her womanhood with her fingers. Slowly she worked her way towards Kate's bee-sting sized bubbies, stimulating them with her free hand, and flicks of her tongue. At this point I ask about the appropriateness of this, pointing out that homosexuality is illegal, and immoral under our beloved Monarch's Royal Decree. From the look Kate gave me at that moment I could see it was weighing heavily on her as well, but Sita assured us that nothing of the sort was going on here.

She explained that the law, as it is, applies to MEN, and men only, as they are the only ones at risk for succumbing to these unnatural carnal desires. Women, as stated by no less an authority that Queen Victoria herself, simply do not do such things, and thus cannot be Homosexuals. Furthermore, Sita states it's a medical treatment for a widely spread and well documented disease so it's immune to prosecution under the law. Kate emphatically agreed pointing out Father wouldn't hire someone with criminal or unnatural tendencies to look after the two of us. After some consideration I agree, and let the demonstration continue.

Sita kissed her way down Kate's creamy bare belly, and straight to her muff where she attached her mouth, and began stimulating the outer lips. The effect is instantaneous, as Kate began moaning, and rose up off the bed consumed by her Hysteria. Sita's mouth, and tongue work tirelessly, and unceasingly bringing Kate closer, and closer to relief. Though I find the method a little distasteful, pun intended, and unrefined I feel my heart glow with admiration as I know Sita won't cease at her task until Kate has been relieved of her excess Quim.

It doesn't take long before Kate has locked her legs behind Sita's head, and begun to grind her cunny into the poor serving girls face. It's a wonder the poor thing didn't suffocate under the assault, but like a trooper she continued in her duties until Kate cried out in the sweet sounds of release, and relief. While Kate lies beside me with a satisfied grin, Sita wipes her mouth, and asks if I would like to experience the treatment firsthand now. Kate moans out that I need to, and so I lie back, and allow Sita to begin treating me.

I asked her to stay away from my neck, as I don't wish to have Kate's emissions, so close to my face and she agreed. She begins with my erect nipples, teasing them with quick kisses and flicks of the tongue before lingering on them, encircling them with her tongue, and rubbing them between her soft nimble fingers. I yelp suddenly as I feel her bite one hard enough to produce pain, but before I can remind her of her place Kate, propped up on one elbow smiles and whispers for me to let the professional do her job. I feel my Quim beginning to flow, and my muff growing wet again under Sita's loving treatments, and begin to feel a shortness of breath as she uses her tongue to trace a trail down my body to my love mound. My entire frame seems alive with pins and needles as Sita detours her way onto my thigh retracting her tongue to gently kiss her way back to my delicate pink flower.

I feel myself close to bursting, even before she begins and fear I will find release far sooner than Kate. This should be a good thing, as shorter treatments would allow me more time to perform the proper duties of my station, but I must confess I don't want Sita to stop. I don't ever want her to stop making me feel this way, and am mortified that a mere servant could make me think that. Sita somehow makes me stay in this state for what seems like an eternity using her lips, and tongue to take me to the very threshold of release again and again. Every time I'm convinced it's finally going to happen, and yet she somehow not only prevents it, but drives me even higher towards some unknowable pinnacle of desire. I fear for my sanity as I become not a being of reason and intellect, but a base creature consumed by lust and animal passions to rut uncontrollably with her. When release finally comes I howl like a daemon, grabbing her head and pressing it into my Venus notch while spasm after spasm of blissful sensation reduce me to a quivering mass of jelly, incoherent, and barely conscious.

I lie there for I know not how long suffused in the warm afterglow of successful treatment, feeling the sweat run off me in the cool room with no noise but the waves outside, and the heavy breathing of myself, and Sita. After a few moments Sita explains that she could teach Kate and myself how to do this, so we could treat each other when she wasn't around, but we would have to practice on her so she could properly critique and instruct us. I'm quite taken aback at the statement, performing such a thing on someone from the working class, but Kate speaks first and agrees for both of us. I'll have a talk with her later about speaking on my behalf, Diary, but don't dare contradict her. Sita offers to begin instruction immediately, if so desired, and Kate jumps at the opportunity. I beg off and go to take a bath, and prepare for bed. As I lower myself into the tub I see Sita astride Kate on all fours with her head down betwixt Kate's thighs, and shake my head at the sight of it.

April 18, 1861

This morning I discovered the reasoning behind Father's desire to come to this remote island in search of a new treatment. I accidently overheard him explaining to Desmond about Myocoxiphlopin as Kate, and I came to breakfast. I must admit I cannot find any mention of this wonder chemical in any of the books Father has on Chemistry, so I must assume it's either a very new discovery in the field, or an original compound of his own making. I don't know what it is, but for Queen and Country, I will do what I can to help him procure it.

We are leaving the relative safety of the Hotel, and taking an expedition to an uncharted island about fifty miles south of here. Supposedly, according to local legend, there exists a spring, and a rare plant that can provide Father with the cure he's desperately searching for. I pray he can find it at last, not just for myself and Kate, but so this blight upon civilization, this daemon Hysteria can no longer hold any woman, whether poor, working class, or even American, under its thumb any longer.

We leave tonight, under the New Moon, to avoid trouble as White People aren't supposed to know about the island, let alone visit it. Our guide, a local named Big Willy, agreed to take us, and return for us in a week after Desmond tricked him into it. I asked him how he did it, and he refused details. He mentioned a gaying instrument, and Willy being a backgammon player, and something called the Double Jugg, and Gutter Lane being filled with mucilage. I was surprised, as Desmond has never shown any kind of talent for music before, and once called backgammon "the sport of invalids, and incontinent French", but those closest to you always seem to be the most surprising it seems.

Well that's all for now, as Father has insisted we turn in early so we can be alert for the trip. Kate was hoping to continue her lessons tonight, and show me what she's learned so far, but it doesn't seem to be in the cards right now. Still I now know what to get Desmond for Christmas this year, if I can only find out what a gaying instrument is.

April 23, 1861

We arrived on the island in the dark of night, and pitched tents by lamplight before going back to sleep. Kate wanted to continue our lessons, since she was having trouble sleeping, but I said no. I didn't want to bother the others as we could potentially get quite loud, and felt it would put unnecessary strain on Sita so soon after she finished putting up our tent. That and unlike Kate I was hesitant to place myself in such a position with the help. With Kate it would be different, but Sita, just wasn't proper for someone of my station.

The next morning Big Willy took his leave in a most peculiar way. First he walked bold as brass out of Desmond's tent with my Fiancée following him on a leash with some strange leather mask over his head. Willy led him all the way to the shore like this, then whipped the mask off, and KISSED Desmond full on the lips while grabbing his posterior in both hands. As Desmond returned to camp I asked him what that was about, and he explained that he had inducted Big Willy into the Fraternal Order of RoundMouths in gratitude for his services. I asked was he allowed to do such a thing, and he admitted he was not, but he knew Willy would never come to London anyway so it didn't hurt anyone. I caught a little quiver in his voice as he spoke, and decided to let the matter lie. Poor Desmond is such an amicable soul, and I know he hates leaving so many friends behind in our travels.

Since we hadn't risen til half-past nine, wasting most of the day, Father decided to leave for the island's interior early the next morning. He and Desmond would go alone, and seek the fabled flower on the slopes of the mountains visible from camp. As we were near a stream of freshwater, and far enough from the shore to avoid detection from anywhere but the air, Kate, myself and Sita would remain at the basecamp here. We spent the day relaxing, double checking supplies, and playing parlour games. In the morning we watched Father and Desmond disappear into the bush, not to return for four days.

After Sita tidied up from breakfast, Kate suggested we put on our swimsuits, and go for a swim. I must admit it sounded like loads of fun, but didn't want to risk anyone seeing us. One, because we weren't supposed to be on the island in the first place. Two, because our swimsuits were very form fitting, and revealed so much ankle it was scandalous, I didn't want to appear wanton before strangers. Sita suggested splashing in the stream, or following it up some little ways to see if there was a pool we could dip in.