Tuesday, December 1, 2009

Aphrodisiacs for freaks

My dearest Readers,
Since the beginning of time, humans (namely men...), have been fascinated with the idea that one could arouse those who aren't naturally inclined to being aroused (women...or so men think) and create a form of potency within their body that would cast aside all reason and make inhibition disappear and allow the body to just go wild. No. We're not talking about Viagra...that's modern voodoo. We're talking about an erotic vigor plucked from nature itself by freaks in history who then threw it all into a cauldron and encouraged everyone to consume it, advertising pleasure without restraint. We're talking Le freak c'est chic.

The idea of virility itself has always dominated every male aspect of history since the beginning of time. Since men had cocks, basically. And yes. That's a very LONG time (pun intended). Men have always desperately sought to capture and preserve their phallic obsession through ingenious concoctions found in nature. And what better way to affect the body then to put something INTO said body? Allow Delilah Marvelle to roll up her lace sleeves and present you with some of the freakiest aphrodisiacs known to history. All created in the name of sex. DISCLAIMER: DON'T TRY THESE AT HOME. UNLESS YOU ARE A FREAK. THEN GO RIGHT AHEAD AND REMEMBER TO PLEASE POST YOUR RESULTS HERE.

Absinthe -- A green liqueur made of marjoram, oil of aniseed and other oils, was originally first made in France from the plant Artemisia Absinthium. As fancy as this plant sounds, it's nothing more than a bush of a weed that grows in South Africa and in the mountains across Europe. It's also known as wormwood. Though in England it was also called Green Ginger and Old Woman (hmmmm.....) Greek physicians originally claimed it prevented one from getting drunk but it became quickly known for being a very potent way of acquiring sexual stimulation. Those who ingested too much, however, (those poor fools hoping for that G spot thing) found out that too much of it lead to insanity or death. Nice.

The Broken arm and leg approach -- Ancient Amazons were reported to break the arms or legs of their captives (which they intended to have sex with). No, the idea wasn't a Marquis de Sade approach or to prevent their captives from running away. They simply believed that by rendering of an arm or a leg useless, it sent more blood to the genitals...heh, makes sense...one less area not needing blood sends more blood in desired area. Yes, according to them, "The lame best perform the act of love." Maybe it was more because those poor bastards could only lay there and had to take "it" no matter what…

Ambergris -- Secretion from the intestines of the sperm whale (sperm? Yes, of course men would link it to THAT). Or in less technical terms, I suppose, Sperm Whale shit. In 17th century France courtiers were known to "nibble" on chocolates dipped in ambergris. Madame du Barry supposedly mixed it into a perfume that kept Louis Xv at her side. But then...everyone smelled like shit back in those days anyway... In the Orient it was mixed with coffee. Who needs cream? They didn't. It was also said to magically restore the old into feeling young again.

Flagellation -- Believe it or not, for centuries flagellation was used to "invigorate" the body. Where on earth did this whole idea of pain/pleasure come from? It was noticed in nature how certain animals get "violent" with each other and "like" it. As if getting whipped wasn't enough pleasure to arouse, there were libertines known to soak whips in vinegar to create a whole new meaning to "that tingling sensation." It was found to be very popular in the Orient in particular.

Baking cakes -- 'Patty cake' takes on a whole new meaning with this one...in the middle ages there was a naughty practice of baking one's spiced cakes whilst naked. Whoever baked a cake whilst naked and then allowed said cakes to cool on their naked body was then shared with the one they sought to erotically capture. Excuse me...but is that a pubic hair in my cake?? Remember. If you find a pubic hair in your cake, it means someone has been trying to capture your heart.

Deer Sperm -- It was mixed into foods, drinks or taken just straight up. I guess my only question is how the hell do you get your hands on deer sperm? Oh, wait. Hands. Ew. Never mind.

Dove Brains -- Now this is just wrong. Animal activists were the freak were you back in the Middle Ages?

Flamingo Tongues -- A particular favorite with the Romans. It was served pickled and created hours and hours of stamina. Those Romans. No wonder their empire fell…

14th century remedy for Impotence -- As quoted : "Burdock seeds pounded in mortar. Add left testicle of a three year old goat (wonder what would happen if it were older...), a pinch of powder from the back hairs of a white dog. The hairs to be cut on the first day of the new moon and burned on the 7th day. Infuse all items in a bottle half filled with brandy. Leave uncorked for 21 days so it may absorb the cosmic influences. On the 21st day -- the first of the following moon -- cook entire compound until thick. Then add 4 drops of crocodile semen (ouch...good luck getting THAT), and pass mixture through a filter. Gather liquid and apply to cock and immediately the effects will astound." Huh. (It is noted that since crocodile semen was rare in Europe the semen of a dog can be used instead.) It is said Cleopatra and Alexander had fun with this one...Does that mean Alexander couldn't get it up? No wonder the relationship didn't last.

Hot Mustard Baths -- Used for women to encourage their sexual interest. Can you imagine the yeast infections these women suffered? Ugh.

Necks of Snails -- Another Roman favorite to be consumed with wine. Question. How did one define "the neck" of the snail??? And how many snails had to be butchered to create one mouthful?

Hankerchief wiped with one's own sweat -- Simple and *very* cost effective. Henry the III and Henry IV were known to use this to lure the women they ardently wanted to their side...the fact that it worked had *nothing* to do with the fact that these guys were Kings and stinkin' rich. Get it? Stinkin'? Heh.

Believe it or not, I could go on and on. It truly is amazing to know what people are willing to try in an effort to seduce or create the effects of Viagra back in the day. I say, keep it basic. Eat some chocolate, drink some wine and have at it.
Until next time,
Cheers and much love,
Delilah Marvelle

Sunday, November 1, 2009

Don'ts for Wives

My Dearest Readers,
One of the biggest DON'T for a wife? Don't let your appearance fall to the wayside (see picture above...). Try to maintain said appearance by shaving in all the appropriate places...ehm. That said, allow me to be serious. Last month the men got the don'ts. This month, the women get the don'ts. So without further ado, I give thee the most popular Don'ts for Wives from a book
printed back in 1913 by Blanche Ebbutte.

*"Don't expect your husband to have all the feminine virtues as well as all the masculine ones. There would be nothing left for YOU if your other half were such a paragon." (Why would I want my husband to have feminine virtues? I'd want him to understand me, yes, but be me? Um…no)

*"Don't worry about little faults in your husband which merely amused you in your lover. If they were not important then, they are not important now. Besides, what about yours?" (The trouble is, we didn't have to deal with those seemingly unimportant faults on a daily basis, so I don't know how much I give this particular don't credit)

*"Don't expect your husband to be an angel. You would get very tired of him if he were." (We all love bad boys anyway)

*"Don't interpret too literally the 'obey' of the Marriage Service. Your husband has no right to control your individuality." (Amen)

*"Don't forget to wish your husband good morning when he sets off to the office. He will feel the lack of your good-bye kiss all day." (I say it makes him eager to come home and collect)

*"Don't nag your husband. If he won't carry out your wishes for love of you, he certainly won't because you nag him." (So true, so true)

*"Don't manage your husband too visibly. Of course, he may require the most careful management, but you don't want your friends to think of him as a hen-pecked husband. Above all, never let him think you manage him." (This applies to teenagers, too)

*"Don't say you can't allow smoking in your drawing room, or else don't expect your husband to sit in it. Let his home be Liberty Hall in every respect." (To hell with this way of thinking...the house would be burned down by the end of the week)

*"Don't be satisfied to let your husband work overtime to earn money for frocks for you. Manage with fewer frocks." (Or marry rich…)

*"Don't let him have to search the house for you. Listen to his latch-key and meet him on the threshold." (Beck and call. Beck and call. I would not have survived my marriage back in the day)

*"Don't greet him at the door with a catalogue of the dreadful crimes committed by servants during the day." (If I had servants, I wouldn't be nagging my husband, I'd be thanking him. Every day)

*"Don't be out if you can help it when your husband gets home after his day's work." (Screw this way of thinking. I'd never get out of the house)

*"Don't try to excite your husband's jealousy by flirting with other men. You may succeed better than you want to. It is like playing with tigers and edged tools and volcanoes all in one." (So basically it sounds like he would beat the shit out of you. So don't make him jealous. Good advice)

*"Don't forget to 'feed the brute' well. Much depends on the state of his digestion." (Again, you'll avoid getting the shit beat out of you)

*"Don't persist in having mushrooms on the table when you know they always make your husband ill. They may be YOUR favorite dish, but is it worth it?" (Sounds like we're talking about magic mushrooms here…)

*"Don't let your husband wear a violet tie with grass green socks. If he is unhappily devoid of the colour sense, he must be forcibly restrained." (A woman who goes for a guy who wears violet ties and grass green socks should be the one forcibly retrained)

*"Don't get angry if your husband says that he never tastes cake like that his mother used to make. Write and ask her for the recipe." (Or better yet, just sent your husband home to his mother…)

Truth be told, what was fascinating about the wife don'ts as opposed to the husband don'ts was that it was really nit picky stuff. Nothing I would define as being able to save a marriage...interestingly enough, there were more DON'TS for wives then there were DON'TS for husbands. Hmmmmm......times haven't changed. At all.
Until next time.
Cheer and much love,
Delilah Marvelle

Thursday, October 1, 2009

Don'ts For Husbands

My Dearest Readers,
Ah...the joys of having a husband! No matter the century a woman is born unto, she faces the same dilemma every generation has faced before her. Dealing with men. And then...big sigh...marrying them. (Unless of course you are a nun or the sort of girl who prefers girls then this post may simply be used to amuse you). And so it is with every generation, advice is given to both men and women alike as to how to deal with their significant others.

This month's post will be dealing with the advice given to husbands in the year 1913. All in all, you will find, as I have, that the battle of the sexes seems to remain the same. So. For your amusement and reading pleasure, I give thee a few of my favorites out of the bunch:

Excerpted from the 1913 book DON'TS FOR HUSBANDS by Blanche Ebbutt (notice it was written by a lady... Probably because men wouldn't even know where to begin in writing a whole book about the things they SHOULDN'T do to their wives…).

*"Don't drop cigarette ash all over the drawing-room carpet." (Better yet, dude, don't smoke at all)

*"Don't take it out on your poor wife every time you have a headache or are ill. It isn't her fault, you know, and she has enough to do in nursing you ." (Hoozah to THAT)

*"Don't be conceited about your good looks. It is more than probable that no one but yourself is aware of them." (Unless you have a magic mirror on the wall who will tell you that you are the fairest of them all)

*"Don't forget that you are not immortal." (This should be plastered beside the toilet seat)

*"Don't forget your wife's birthday. Even if she doesn't want the whole world to know her age, she doesn't like YOU to forget." (Cuz, dude, it only happens once a freakin' year)

*"Don't allow yourself to become selfish. It is so easy, because wives are mostly ready to give way." (This, of course, has changed much. As a wife, I am not all that ready)

*"Don't refuse your wife's overtures (yes, we're actually talking sex here) when next you meet if you HAVE unfortunately had a bit of breeze (meaning, if you had a bit of tail and cheated on her). Remember it costs her something to make said overtures and if you weren't a bit of a pig (love this!) you would save her the embarrassment by said overtures yourself."

*"Don't expect your wife to hold the same views as yours on every conceivable question. Some men like an echo, it's true, but it becomes very wearisome in time." (Some women like an echo too, you know…)

*"Don't try to be a Sultan (you think?). This is the West and you can't shut your wife away from all the other men." (Especially not whilst you're being a pig and chasing tail)

*"Don't imagine your wife never wants to see any other man than you. However nice she thinks you, it is possible to have TOO much of a good thing." (Unless of course you happen to look like Johnny Depp)

*"Don't omit to cultivate a sense of humour. It will carry you safely past many a danger-signal in the home." (In other words, it'll save your marriage)

*"Don't spend night after night at your club, leaving your wife alone to count the hours until your return." (Or in the bars, stripper joints…)

*"Don't say your wife wastes time in reading, even if she reads ONLY fiction. Help her choose GOOD fiction." (You better help me choose romance, dearest)

*"Don't grudge your wife a new dress because YOU haven't noticed that she needs one." (I like this woman's advice. A lot)

*"Don't be too exacting about your food. If you can't afford an accomplished cook, don't demand accomplished dishes." (I like THIS even more)

*"Don't always tell your children, "Ask your mother," when YOU don't want to be bothered. It may be quite conceivable that SHE doesn't want to be bothered, either." (Amen)

I must say, it is rather sad that the same things are being repeated to our men generation after generation and yet NO ONE SEEMS TO BE LISTENING. Of course...we women aren't angels from the high heavens ourselves. Which is why next month, I will be posting on the DON'TS FOR WIVES. If anyone has any other sort of advice for husbands of THIS day and age, feel free to post. I'm always looking for something to throw at my husband.
Until next time,
Cheers and much love,
Delilah Marvelle

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

The History of the "Overcoat"

My dearest Readers,
I am quite certain that the above picture (a condom made out of animal intestines with a Latin booklet bearing instruction) quickly gave you the impression that I won't be discussing the sort of overcoats a man pulls onto his shoulders but rather the one he pulls over his cock. In England, a condom was referred to in slang terms as an "English Overcoat." But was it really English? Uh...no. Truth be told, no one really knows where its origins come from. Some say it came from the French town of Condom (those French, after all, *were* naughty...). While others claim it came from Dr. Condom who was not only a British doctor but an earl (dubbed the earl of Condom...yes, you laugh, but he really *was* the earl of Condom). Supposedly, the earl of Condom had "perfected" the "sheathing" casing in the 1600's in an effort to protect King Charles II from venereal disease. Myth? Truth? Who knows. Either way, King Charles II was indeed known for womanizing and sticking his cock in places he oughtn't.
The very first appearance of the actual word "condom," however, wasn't seen until 1710. Whatever the case may be, it is a known fact that condoms were around long before the word "condom"came into existence. The Ancient Egyptians had them. Which never really surprised me. If they could mummify bodies, condoms were a piece of cake...or rather a piece of intestine or leather wrapped around the best part of the body. Fortunately for the Egyptian women, the men weren't using papyrus. Snort. Below is an example of an Ancient Egyptian condom. Note these sort of things were never discussed in History class...

Pretty yes? Wouldn't you just *love* to see YOUR man wearing this in the bedroom?? As you might imagine, the cock was placed into the casing and the long piece tied snugly around their waist. After years and years of perfecting the condom, men kept on reducing the length of what held the sheath in place down to a mere pink ribbon that was neatly tied around the root of the cock. The pink ribbon was actually standard for a condom since the 1500's and into the early 1800's. Why pink? Why ever not? The men were wearing it for the ladies.... Though in truth, Gabriello Fallopio (who discovered the existence of the Fallopian tubes) added the pink ribbon to a brand of condom he was perfecting and it had remained the symbol of a condom all the way up until the rubber ones came onto the scene. While many speculate what Ancient Egyptians actually used their condoms for (birth control, venereal disease, ritual), one thing is clear. It was used during sex.

How comfortable were they? I'm guessing they really weren't. After all, some were made out of leather and linen, for heaven's sake. And if they weren't leather or linen, they were usually made out of some animal intestine or another. Without artificial lubricants which fortunately our day and age offers, I imagine there was a whole lot of chaffing involved for a woman. Youch and youch. The reality is it wasn't about preventing the appearance of children but rather disease and obviously a woman's pleasure took the back of the carriage.

Condoms or "condums" (as it was written when it first appeared in the English language), made its appearance among European society in about 100 to 200 AD. Proof of this comes from an old cave painting at Combarelles in France (those French again...) depicting a man and a woman copulating whilst the man's cock is "covered." Of course, many argue that although this has been stated as a fact, there are no pictures that have been offered up to verify if in fact this cave painting does exist. Sounds like a field trip to me. If I ever make it out there, I'll be sure to bring my camera and post it on my blog.

As far as how and why the modern condom became so popular in Europe, it is said we have good old Christopher Columbus and his horny band of men who were "exploring" the "New" World (and its women) to thank for bringing back the 'Great pox." Better known as syphilis. European men started to scramble for ways to protect themselves during the great pox epidemic that broke out and condom shops started popping up as a result.

But here's where all their intelligence ends. Condoms for the most part were bought and "reused." At shops, if a gentleman couldn't afford a condom (for they were rather expensive), he could buy a 'used' one. The men were simply instructed to 'cleanse' the condoms both old and new using milk. This was done not just to clean it but also to 'moisten' it. Aside from the stench the milk no doubt created (eck...), disease kept on spreading and spreading because these morons kept reusing and reusing.

Although there are record from the Middle Ages of clergymen recording methods of birth control which included the use of a condoms, it really wasn't seen as a birth control device until one very popular man made it such....Casanova himself. Aside from using lemons as spermicides, he also used condoms for the same purpose. Of course....Casanova liked to use condom to entertain and shock his guests by blowing up his own condom before ladies and men alike. Nothing like tooting one's horn...Below is a sketch of his 'tooting'...

The days of tying little ribbons around one's cock came to quick end when the rubber was invented by Goodyear (yes, the tire company!) and Hancock (quite the fitting name, don't you think?). The two had discovered 'vulcanisation.' It is a process in which rubber was turned into a thin elastic sheath. They also discovered how to mass produce them and in 1861, in New York City, the very first ad went into Newspapers advertising "Dr. Power's French Preventatives." I guess no one would take it seriously if the word 'French' wasn't thrown in...heh. Of course, the big money didn't last long.

In 1873, the Comstock Law was passed making it illegal to send any "obscene" things through the mail. And obviously condoms fell into that bracket. It gave the Post Office the right to seize every condom that was being sold through the mail via those advertisements. That law, believe it or not, stayed in effect here in the United States up until 1965 after many citizens, including doctors, women and men argued the need. By the 1930's, rubber condoms were being produced at a mass of 1.5 million a day. That's a hellofa lot of sex. And I can only imagine with the population boom how many is in production today...not including variety. So the next time you see a condom, ladies (and yes, you men) bow to it in respect. It's come a long, long way.
Until next time, cheers and much love,
Delilah Marvelle

Saturday, August 1, 2009

THE Lord of Pleasure

My dearest Readers,
I hereby dub the month of August, LORD OF PLEASURE month. Grin. For those of you that don't know, the second book in the School of Gallantry series is officially out. Though I could technically go on and on about all the reasons as to why you should my book, I'll keep it simple. Just buy it. I promise you won't regret it. That said, I'll skip anymore pressure sales tactics and get back to the point of this blog.

So. In honor of the book's release LORD OF PLEASURE, I decided to focus on a particular man in history who did in fact dote quite ardently upon pleasure (and unlike my own fantabulous hero, Alexander, sadly, this particular man was a royal jerk -- quite literally). There were many, many men in history, mind you, who doted upon all things carnal, from Casanova to Marquis de Sade (though his was a different sort of pleasure...), but allow me to introduce someone many do not necessarily associate with pleasure due to his ruling of the throne being a sparse 10 years. George IV. He was the fourth and last George upon the throne of England from the years 1820-1830 (which are the years I write in). Though his rule was quite short, he enjoyed it immensely and it was more than apparent in his behavior. In his 20's he could dance, sing, hold fascinating and witty conversations that allowed a woman to overlook the fact that he was a....jerk. (In my opinion anyway)

The man loved his women. And how. At seventeen, his first mistresses was an actress by the name of Mary Robinson who was one and twenty. He was fascinated by her and drew her to him not just by being royalty but by promising her 20,000 pounds which he would give her when he came of age. He arranged romantic meetings on an island between Kew and Brentford where they would signal one another from boats with handkerchiefs. He called her his Perdita. But a man of pleasure becomes easily bored and not very long after, he left her before he came of age. And no, he never gave her that glorious sum of 20,000 pounds he had promised (bastard) and it is said poor Mary Robinson had died impoverished.

George was notorious for not only shagging women, but manipulating them (we've all met his type before). The manipulation, it seems, became worse if he fancied himself in love. For instance, when he fell deeply and madly in love with a beautiful widow by the name of Maria Fitzherbert (who was scandalously a Catholic -yes, George was a wild one), and tried to get Maria into his bed, she repeatedly refused him. Would have nothing to do with him. So instead of winning her heart, he decided to manipulate it. He sent his physician to her house in a carriage with an urgent message that the Prince had stabbed himself in a state of disgruntled passion because of her continued refusals and that she was to come with him at once as he was dying. Any good woman with a heart who thinks she is responsible for a dying man whom she refused would have rushed to his side. Which Mrs. Fitzherbert did. She found him upon his bed, quiet and pale and covered with blood, refusing to live because she would not have him. And his intentions were in fact noble. So noble he wished he could have her for his wife. There were many accounts as to where the blood really came from. 1.) That he had in fact stabbed himself, trying to make her feel sorry for him. 2.) had tried to shoot himself in the head, but missed and bounced off his bedpost and grazed his side. 3.) He borrowed some blood off of a poor fellow with the help of his doctor and made a damn good show. Many seem to think number 3 was in fact what had happened. Poor Mrs. Fitzherbert felt responsible knowing all the man wanted was her hand in marriage. She allowed him to put on a ring he borrowed from her chaperone, the duchess of Devonshire, who had accompanied her in the panic.

The Prince recovered quite miraculously and a year later, they were in fact married. It was an illegal marriage due to them both being of separate religions and without having permission of the throne itself. The Prince had to actually bribe a clergyman to marry them. The Prince arrived after dark at her house on Park Lane, the doors were locked and the ceremony took place in her drawing room with only a few witnesses. It was such a scandalous affair that the more than wary witnesses present, who had all signed the marriage certificate had their very names cut off the parchment certificate so that the throne wouldn't come after them. The two witnesses were Maria's uncle, Sir Errington and her brother Jack Smythe. They lived together for many years but seeing that the man needed a legal marriage to settle debts, that is how Princess Caroline came into the picture. And for those of you that don't know, it was anything but a happy marriage.

So why did the prince have debts? Pleasure seekers usually do. The man was known to spend over 20 pounds per week alone on just creams and powders, flowered waters, oils, eau de cologne and bought them in such huge quantities, you'd think he was a woman on a cosmetic binge. Over 20 pounds per week doesn't sound like much, but that would be as if a man today were spending hundreds of dollars a week on cosmetics!! Of course, the man was known to buy everything in large quantities. When he needed a walking stick, it was said he had actually purchased a total of 32 in one day. Why not?

The trouble with pleasure seekers, of course, is that there is no sense of remorse that their actions affect others, as the Prince repeatedly demonstrated by making his wife, Princess Caroline miserable. Of course, he liked to look at it that SHE made him miserable. And accused her of adultery (even though he was jacking off on the side). He also didn't have much tact. When she was very ill and he awaited news as to what would happen with her, it is said that about the same time Napoleon had died and news was brought by a courtier saying: "I have, Sir to congratulate you; your greatest enemy is dead." George's reply was "Is she, by God?"

Needless to say, many were happy to see him go...especially during his last weeks. The man would actually ring for his servants 40 times just to inquire about the time. Even though a watch hung by his side. He simply didn't feel like turning his head. That said, ladies, beware pleasure seekers. Unlike the happily ever after my heroine receives with Alexander in LORD OF PLEASURE, it really doesn't end that way for everyone else...

Cheers and much love,
Delilah Marvelle

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

Meet Ninon de L'Enclos

My dearest Readers,
In honor of my School of Gallantry Series, I decided to introduce all of you to the inspiration behind Madame de Maitenon. Yes, my silver haired retired courtesan and headmistress of the School of Gallantry. Meet Ninon de L'Enclos. I stumbled across her name during some research I was conducting for another story and the more I unearthed about this woman, the more I realized I HAD to create an equally fascinating character.

Ninon de L'Enclos was born in Paris in 1620 and came from an interesting family. Her father had been exiled from France for participating in a duel and when her mother died, she decided to enter a convent. Of course, she didn't last very long and a year later, she left the convent and decided to strike out on her own using her wit and her body to make her fortune. How did she decide to go from convent to courtesan? It may surprise you to know that the one thing Ninon wanted above all else was to remain unmarried and independent. That left a woman only one of two choices back in those days. The convent. Or the life of a courtesan. She figured out pretty quickly that there wasn't all that much fun to be had at the convent...

Ninon, once she went out into the world, actually became quite known for her passionate involvement in the literary arts, not just the sexual arts. She interacted and encouraged writers such as Moliere and even left money from her estate for her accountant's son, Francois Arouet. Better known as Voltaire. Voltaire has Ninon to thank for his education. Without it, who knows what he would have turned into.

It was, however, the older Ninon that ultimately fascinated me. She took on many lovers throughout the years, but never more than one at a time and involved herself with powerful, wealthy men, such as the King's cousin and dukes. Perhaps the most heartbreaking, yet fascinating of stories is about her son. Ninon involved herself with a wealthy, powerful man and bore him a son. This man took the son from Ninon and asked that she never disclose herself as being the boy's mother. She agreed and watched her son grow up from a distance. Imagine her astonishment when her fully grown son appears at her door one day and ardently pleads to her if she'd take him into her bed. Ehm. Yes. Talk about awkward. At first, she simply denied him and brushed him off, hoping that his pride would simply squash whatever hopes he had. But her son was so obsessed and in love with her that he simply would not give her any sense of peace. Ninon was beside herself and knew she simply had to reveal the truth to him. To get him to stop. When she revealed the truth, her son quietly left and that same day committed suicide by impaling himself upon his own sword. It was a tragedy that haunted Ninon for the rest of her days.

Such tragedies, however, often leads to great wisdom. (Don't we all know that...) She thrived upon using her experience at every turn. When she wasn't bedding her current lover, she held literary events and discussions with aristocratic men having to do with philosophy, life, love, and yes, even sex. It was a "school" of sorts she had created and she had quite the following of men. In the early stages of creating my books, I decided to take these "discussions" of hers with men and turn it into an actual school. Hence the creation of the School of Gallantry.

Without a doubt, Ninon was known for her quips and wit. She had great sayings like, "Much more genius is needed to make love than to command armies." (Ain't that the truth) And my my favorite "The resistance of a woman is not always a proof of her virtue, but more frequently of her experience." These fabulous quotes of hers gave me ideas upon ideas as to how my imaginary school should be run as well as the sort of quotes I wanted to see at the beginning of each chapter within my books. Hence the lessons. Call it a tribute, if you will, to the fabulous Ninon.

What is perhaps the most fascinating aspect of Ninon and why I created an elderly courtesan for my series as opposed to a young one, is that the older Ninon got, the more sought after she became by men. Unlike most courtesans who were forced to retire due to age and lack of beauty, Ninon's circle of admirers grew because they simply could not get enough of her wit and charm. Even women flocked to her for advice. One of my favorite stories about Ninon is when she was approached by a gentleman who desperately wanted to bed her but she really didn't care for him. So she told him, "When I turn 80." The man was so obsessed with her, that he waited, and when she turned 80, he showed up at her door saying it was time. Ninon was so amused by the man, she decided to bed him after all. Indeed, her approach toward men and toward life, the amount of wealth and power she acquired in her lifetime is beyond the comprehension of even a modern woman. I hail her for this alone. Ninon died at 84 and left her vast fortune to friends and admirers.

So there you have it. Ninon AKA Madame de Maitenon.

Cheers and much love,
Delilah Marvelle

Monday, June 1, 2009

Filthy Shakespeare Part 2

My dearest Readers,
Here's a picture of Shakespeare very few see or recognize. It actually makes him look more savvy than that wizened, pudgy faced picture we're all used to seeing. It's a conspiracy, I tell you. To warp the way we look at Shakespeare. After all, he's SUPPOSED to be the father of all literary plays.

In last month's post, I touched upon how deliciously naughty Shakespeare was and how throughout the centuries his words had been deleted and altered to create "clean" versions of his works. After all, how could Shakespeare be considered "literary" and taken seriously by ANYONE if he's referring to sex, cunts, pricks, erections, ejaculations, buggery, lesbians, brothels, dildos, boobs, balls, pimps, and impotence???

As the book, "Filthy Shakespeare" by Pauline Kiernan brilliantly points out, William Shakespeare's name actually gave cause for eyebrows to be raised even then. For his name was a sexual pun in and of itself and quite literally meant "To Shake one's Spear" which was the definition of wanker. And "Will" was another word for "prick." So essentially, his name quite literally meant "Prick Wanker." No wonder the dude wasn't afraid to write about sex. His very own name set the tone of puns he was meant to write for the rest of his days.

As if that wasn't enough ammo for him, just a few years before Shakespeare was born there was a great scientific "rediscovery." Of the clitoris. Yes. In 1559 (Shakespeare was born in 1564). Greek medical writers had actually long documented extensively the location of the clitoris and that it could be stimulated outside of penetration, yet all of Europe somehow "forgot" about the clitoris (I think it was a freakin' conspiracy...Dan Brown should have seriously covered this in his Da Vinci book). With this "rediscovery" of the clitoris throughout Europe, it was becoming quite evident to men that a woman's pleasure could actually be controlled outside of a man. Which worried them to no end. There were public outcries about dildos being sold and used and what would happen to the population (and the men...). After all, the dildo was serious competition. It always hard, didn't create a mess, and there was no fear of disease or pregnancy attached. A dildo was almost a no brainer for a gal back in those days...
Needless to say, by the time Shakespeare stepped into the picture, lo, the man had plenty of stuff to write about, as the dildo and clitoris conspiracy was still going on. And write about the dildo conspiracy he did.

In THE WINTER'S TALE, the character Autolycus is selling "wares" when he arrives into Bohemia. I have to share the lines because it's really THAT good. Here is an excerpt (now remember, to "sing" is a pun on "fuck" and "fadings" refers to "orgasms"...keep this in mind as you read):

Servant: "He hath songs for man or woman, of all sizes. No milliner can so fit his customers with gloves. He has the prettiest love songs for maids...with such delicate burdens of dildos and fadings, "Jump her and thump her"...
Autolycus (singing): "Pins and poking-sticks of steel, what maids lack from head to heel...come buy!"
Servant: "He has dildos for man or woman, of all sizes for all shapes of genitals and arses. No glove-maker can bring a female prostitute or male brother-goer so quickly to orgasm with his gloves. He has the sexiest dildos for virgins, such lightweight burdens of sensual dildos and refrains that sound like orgasms: "Jump into her and fuck her."
Autolycus (singing): "Pins and poking-sticks of steel, everything maids need from penis tip to heel. Come and buy!"

Now why is it we never read THIS is freakin' English Lit?! I'm sure none of the guys in my class would have complained about not understanding what the heck Shakespeare was talking about. Because, yes, sex IS a universal language. Which is why Shakespeare loved to touch upon it so much (yes, pun intended...). Bottom line, no matter who attended his plays, be they rich or poor, every adult understood the workings of sex and so it was a brilliant tool he used quite frequently and liberally in order to communicate with his audience to evoke humor as well as emotion (think of Romeo and Juliet's parting is such sweet sorrow scene). That said, I hope you now have a completely different take on Shakespeare and I hope you read the fabulous book "Filthy Shakespeare" and truly take the time to appreciate just how funny and witty and brilliant and naughty the man really was.
Cheers and much love,
Delilah Marvelle

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

Filthy Shakespeare

My dearest Readers,
The winds are changing. With Maggie now gone, I intend to only keep my posts to the first of the month as I wish to give you quality over quantity. I know you will all understand. And if you don't...well, go get yourself a dildo and make yourself happy. That said, I give thee the latest post on how Filthy Shakespeare *REALLY* was. Being an English major, and having been exposed (pun intended) to Shakespeare repeatedly, I noticed a pattern within his works. A naughty pattern. When I approached my professor to ask about it, he scoffed at the notion that Shakespeare was a dirty minded bastard. He said it was just his humor. I begged to differ.

Shakespeare for his time was probably outrageous and until I came across the book Filthy Shakespeare by Pauline Kiernan I forgot about how filthy he really was. Because there is no way I could ever do justice to how amazing this book is put together, I suggest you a.) go get it or b.)come back next month where I will be hosting a part 2 to this discussion. If you do both, I'll be impressed.

So...not many know that not that far away from the Globe Theatre where many of Shakespeare's famous plays were put on was a brothel. And not just one, but too many to count. It was known as the "London Bankside." Bank = brothel. A transaction that takes place between man and whore. Many of them competed with each other by naming themselves after genitalia. "The Cardinal's Hat" for instance, referred to an erection. Many may not have gotten that out of the name of the shop, but back then, a lot of the slangs they used to talk about sex were wildly different. For instance, "noon" meant what it means today, but it also referred to an erection, pointing up at twelve on the dial. Shakespeare being as witty and brilliant as he was, used his words as any great writer word to create a world of double entendres. Which to me says he most likely was indeed a man. Heh. Unlike now, people then really paid attention to the sort of words being said in a play. So those words needed to hold the attention of their audience unlike a television ever could.

Here's the thing about Shakespeare, however, that many people don't realize. It wasn't until after Shakespeare's death that the cleaning out of his plays started to occur (sadly, it happened to a lot of works in history). At first it was a word here and a word there, a pun here and a pun there, taken out one by one. To top it off, a lot of vocabulary has since then changed. Among the filthiest lines censored was actually from Romeo and Juliet. Mercutio insults Rosaline. And I quote: "O Romeo, that she were, O that she were/an open-arse and thou a popp'rin'pear." Basically, bend over and take her kind of thing. As quotes from Filthy Shakespeare (and I knew this...): "O = vagina, popp'rin = pop her in." One edition of this being seen was where "open-arse" was replaced with "Open Et Caitera" (snort) and other would simply insert a dash where the arse should have been. 18th century editors quite literally threw out lines and lines and lines of Shakespeare's work. As a writer, I cringe. Because then everything gets taken out of context. The voice is lost. The idea is lost. No matter how dirty that voice or idea was. Because Shakespeare also wrote poems in which men addressed other men in love sonnets (as Elizabethans were really quite open about their sexuality), 'he' was changed to 'she.' And I could go on and on. Bottom line, try to find (and they are out there) an UNEDITED version of Shakespeare. And use the book Filthy Shakespeare as your guide to pull out the puns on sex, buggery, whores, pimps, dildos, nuns, the pox, and so forth. It really is too much fun. I wish my professor would have put on this class. It would have been filled within the hour. Part 2 of this post will be posted (and I promise) on the first of the next month. Until then, be as naughty and filthy as Shakespeare. It's called being creative.
Cheers and much love,
Delilah Marvelle

Tuesday, March 31, 2009

The Very First Little Black Book in History

My Dearest Readers,
Everyone knows the term "little black book" and how every rake keeps it safely tucked within the back of his trousers (or front...depending). But did you honestly think it's a modern invention to list the name of women in a book who will spread their legs at a moment's notice?

Allow me to introduce you to the gentleman above responsible for history's first little black book that was put to print and made use of by every man willing to pay the price. His name? Samuel Derrick. Samuel was a struggling poet. After years of struggling to be acknowledged for his brilliance (boy does that sounds familiar...), he decided to get drunk one night (why not?) and headed to his local London pub. Lo and behold, above his tankard of ale, stands a menacing, yet dashing man by the name of Jack Harris who is approached by a man asking for a woman who could pump him. A woman with large breasts, blue eyes and blond hair. Jack whips out a "list" that gives descriptions and the address of every prostitute in London. Well...almost every prostitute. Jack asks for a fee and gives the man the name and address of the woman that will see to his needs.

Visions of sugar plums began dancing in Samuel's head. And he wondered. What if such a list were made available to more than the random randy? And what if this list could be compiled and sold in a way to give it an air of sophistication? A sophistication only a poet could give. With these thoughts brewing, he set down his tankard and decided to take life by the balls (pun intended). He approached Jack Harris, who happened to be one of the biggest pimps in London known as "the General Pimp of all England", and told him of his idea to sell his list. The two came to an agreement that Harris's name would be used to authenticate the list and the first little black book was bound and put into publication for every man in London to buy. It was known as Harris's List of Covent Garden Ladies.

In it were the names and addresses of London's prostitutes and their "specialties." From the year 1757 to 1795 more than a quarter of a million copies were sold. An astounding number for the time. Any man serious about his pleasure wasn't caught dead without it. As for all the London prostitutes, they all begged and paid to be listed. It was good for business, after all. The trouble was, even if a lady (and I use that term loosely) was fortunate to have her name listed in the book and paid a pretty penny to do so, ultimately, she had no control as to what was written about her.

While Jack Harris dabbled in making sure the names and addresses and specialties were in fact legit (he worked hard every night seeing to it...ehm), Samuel Derrick was the one who ultimately penned the verses that were inserted into the book.
at you would see when you bought your own copy of the List (and it wasn't in the least bit complimentary to the poor gal trying to sell her goods):
Printed in the 1773 supplement

"Mrs. Berry, King's Place, Pall Mall
'Mercury upon most women has some effect'
(As a side note, mercury at the time, Mercury was used to treat venereal disease...)

An arrant Brimstone of Irish birth, who pretends to set up as one of the first rank courtesans, and would impose upon us her stale and battered commodity for fresh fruit, but we think our judgement cannot be imposed upon at this time of day, and are of the opinion that she has undergone too many salivations, that the power of Mercury has lost its effect upon her: in a word she is almost rotten and her breath is cadaverous."

A better advertisement for a gal would have been more like this:

Printed in the 1789 Supplement

"Madamoiselle, at Mrs. W-lp-les, No. 1 Poland Street
'Here I would die each blissful night,
Here chase the fleeting time away,
And whelm'd in love's serene delight
Rise full of life at happy day'

Every girl with a beautiful face and a good form, must in some measure, please; but very few among this list of trading nymphs afford that pleasure in enjoyment you meet with, in this delectable piece. She is now on the verge of twenty four, with fine dark hair, love sparkling eyes, and a set of teeth as would defy the power of a Spence to imitate, or the brush of Ruspini to improve. You may toy and kiss with this charming girl, if you please, but she does not suffer that kind of amorous dalliance long; she eagerly thirsts for more substantial pleasure, and has either by experience or instinct, a most pleasing knack of prolonging the dying moment, first as nature, by sounds, and short fetched sighs, proclaim the coming shower, her eager grasp suddenly suspends the liquid treasure and drains, by slow degrees, the soft injection, making it almost, with Dr. Graham 'the critical hour.' This enchanting game she has played for two years, and if you are her partner, she expects at least double the number of yellow boys (this is a slang term for guineas). If report speaks truth, this lady has been a singer at the Opera House in Paris, and we have no doubt that she is a native of Italy."

Sadly, Samuel and Jack didn't live happily ever after. Even with a huge list of women at their fingertips. When both died, the list continued for only a few years longer being edited and put together by unknowns. The Georgian hey-day with sex frolicking was nearing its end and the list was removed from publication due to public outcry from religious snobs.

And there you have it. The very first little Black book in History. If you want to a more detailed version of their story, pick up the book THE COVENT GARDEN LADIES by Hallie Rubenhold. It's an amazing book that makes you cringe, laugh and cross your legs all at the same time...

Until next time.
Cheers and much love,
Delilah Marvelle

Sunday, March 1, 2009

How to make love...1930's style

My dearest Reader,
It is quite by accident that I happen upon the most fabulous of books. Though perhaps not *quite* by accident. Considering where I happened to pick up a copy of this particular book I'll be discussing: Sparticus. Now for those of you that don't live in Portland, Oregon, Sparticus is a fabulous adult store with everything under the mattress a woman or a man would ever need. Lingerie, books, wigs, paddles, nipple rings, condoms, you name it. They have it. And if they don't, they know where to get it. So I wandered in (after all, how can one simply walk by such a store and NOT go in?! T'would be a crime) and after passing the pasties, purple and pink wigs, twenty inch heels with tip jars attached to the bottom (I kid you not), dicksticks (it's real lipstick shaped like a penis. I tell you, nothing shocks me anymore), and all the other kinky goodies, I headed for my favorite section in the entire store. And no, it wasn't the dildo section, gentle readers, but rather, the book section. Of course. A naughty writer needs naughty inspiration. So I read this and that and look at this and that and it's all really not that fascinating. Slot A into Slot B. Nothing creative. But then I spotted this fabulous, fabulous reprint sitting on the shelf and simply fell in love with it. Because it captures an era that reflects times gone by in history. The book, HOW TO MAKE LOVE, SECRETS OF WOOING FROM THE 1930's was the only thing I walked out with that day (well, actually, that's not true, but I do not intend to post what else I walked out with as every girl has a right to her privacy...ehm)

So here is a basic overview of the book and why you must get your hands on it:
*It is a man's perspective on love. From the 1930's. (Bwahaha)
*Defines love is an art that can and must be perfected. (Bwahahahahahahahahahaha)
*There are so many great lines that will make every woman want to burn bras. And I quote, "Man was created strong. Woman was created weak. Therefore, it is up to the man to protect his woman. Woman is so physically constituted that she needs a man's strong protection."
*A woman must always be passive. (Because?.... It's easier?)
*Basic customs, such as laying out a cloak on a puddle as in olden days or holding the door open, helps the "basic necessity of establishing this strong-weak relationship as soon as possible..."
*The secret to lasting love: Understanding. (AMEN, brotha)
*Make sure that when you're on the sofa and you want to "make your move" you do so in a manner so as to arrange that she is sitting against the arm of the sofa. So that she has no means of escaping. (Forced seduction, anyone?)
*Oh, and THE BEST LINES EVER to help a guy out with a gal and I quote as I'm holding back a gasp of horrified laughter: "If she flinches, don't worry. If she flinches and makes an outcry, don't worry. If she flinches, makes and outcry and tries to get up off the sofa, don't worry. Hold her, gently but firmly, and allay her fears with kind, reassuring words. Remember what Shakespeare said about "a woman's no." However, if she flinches, makes an outcry, a loud stentorian outcry, mind you, and starts to scratch your face, then start to worry and start to get yourself out of a bad situation."
*Flatter a woman. (The oldest and dirtiest trick in the book, I'd say)
* How to properly place one's arm around a gal in the theatre. There is a right and a wrong way. The right way is to place your arm around her below the upper part of the chair so that no one will see you doing so. The improper way is to place your arm around her AND the seat for everyone to see and pulling her close.
*Love is entirely irrational and unless you understand that, you won't ever understand love. (Um...that TOTALLY makes sense)
*Understand thyself. In turn, you will understand others. (This is actually damn good Dr. Phil stuff)
*Oh, and the best advice ever. Gentlemen. Do remember that 1+1=3. Amen.

Again, pick up this fabulous, fabulous book. It really gives you an understanding as to the mentality of an America that we are still trying to break ourselves away from. Although I must say that it has a lot of very wonderful lines about love and relationships that deserve further scrutiny. The one thing that I most certainly noticed is that the whole notion and premise of the book which discusses "making love" cannot be compared to our definition of "making love." For although kissing and techniques and so on is covered, A into slot B is not. It is more of a commentary to the men about love in general and the paths it leads them down. Which is really fascinating. Because the book really tries to "talk" to men about love and relationships in a very rational and concise manner. To the best of the author's knowledge that is....
I dare you to post your favorites out of the list I gave outlining the book and why it is your favorite. Because this is my blog, I get to say I love them all. Because it is part of a past I know I will never truly understand or appreciate having not lived it. Until next time.

Cheers and much love,
Delilah Marvelle

Sunday, February 1, 2009

Join the one year celebration!!!

My Dearest Readers,
'Tis difficult to believe that an entire year has passed since A Bit O'Muslin first made its debut. In honor of that one year, I invite you to partake in a bit of fun. And by doing so, you have the opportunity to win fabulous historical based prizes worth gossiping about.

Prizes up for grabs:
-A fabulous reprint of a 1930's book: The Art of Kissing by Pietro Ramirez Sr. (Tips and Techniques)
-A fabulous reprint of a 1913 book: Don'ts for Husbands/Don'ts for Wives by Blanche Ebbutt
-Two signed copies of my book Mistress of Pleasure, along with signed cover flats of my upcoming release, Lord of Pleasure.

How to win:
Answer one of the two following ridiculously easy questions.
(Hint: The answers can be found in previous posts OR you can google it...)

1.) Exactly how old is the oldest known dildo? (For there may have been older, but they simply haven't been found)
2.) What is osculation?

Only those posting the right answers will be entered to win. Everyone has from February 1st until the 13th to post their answers. Then remember to come back on Valentine's Day to see if you win! If you see your name, e-mail me at
Delilah@DelilahMarvelle.com with your address so I can send you your prize. Remember. No address. No prize. Thank you for helping me celebrate and good luck to everyone who enters!!!

Cheers and much love,
Delilah Marvelle

Monday, January 5, 2009

The History of the Dildo

My Dearest Readers,
Some time ago, before my days of publication, I wrote Mistress of Pleasure (then known as An Improper Education) and entered it into a few unpubbed contests. I found that although many were enthusiastic about my story, what with talk of sex, humor and all, there were a few skeptics who simply did not believe that a dildo existed in 1830. Excuse me while I laugh (hahahaha). I am here to give those certain few a most needed and proper education on DILDOS. What you see above is the oldest dildo to have ever been found by the scientific community. (Can you imagine discovering such a thing in a cave? What would your fellow scientific colleagues dub you as? Brilliant doesn't come to mind...) This particular dildo is 28,000 years old and was found in a cave by German scientists near Ulm. It is made of siltstone, measures 20 cm long and was lovingly polished to perfection. It is believed to have been used for rituals and mutual dildofication (indeed, I just made that word up). So yes, dildos have been around as long as men have had their cocks hanging from their nether region. Which is a very, very long time. And the fascination for dildos has not since waned.

The term dildo comes from the Latin word DILATARE, which means to "open wide." The very first appearance of the word dildo in the English dictionary is said to have appeared in 1598. So what on earth did they call it prior to the invention of the English word? That is indeed a mystery for the use of it predates the word itself.

Above, you see a Roman version of what would have been paraded on special occasions. The Romans, mind you, were overly obsessed with the cock. They displayed it on their door bells (certainly gives the whole term "pulling the cock" a new meaning), used it for rituals, paraded it throughout the streets, and so on and so forth. Although the dildos used by the Romans were made out of polished stone or wood. Ouch and ouch. And although it was used for pleasure, it was more associated with the deflowering of virgins. The reality was that women were more or less forced to worship the thing, whether they wanted to or not. Ceremonies were conducted around the dildo. In Rome, brides were not deflowered by their husbands, rather a statue with a huge cock (Priapus). And this was done in public for all to see. March 17th marked the feast of when a six foot high wooden dildo would be drawn through the streets to celebrate the fertility god Liber. They would chant to it (I would have loved to have been there...) and a virgin would "crown it" with a wreath.

In the book SEXY ORIGINS AND INTIMATE THINGS by Charles Panati (I highly recommend this book) he says, "In a Greek play from the third century B.C., one woman complains to another that she's tired of her friends' borrowing her beautiful new "scarlet leather-covered dildo" before she's had a chance to pleasure herself with it." To this I say, why the bloody hell were you borrowing it in the first place and how did they know about it? Ehm.

India, known for the Kama Sutra wasn't by any means immune. Were there were men, there were dildos. And were there were women, there were dildos being used for both pleasure and ritual purposes. As you can see by the sketch above, all sorts of contraptions were used and attached to make insertion of the dildo easier and I'm certain more fun. Arabic and Polynesian women used dildos, as well. But they didn't use stone or wood. They turned to a different and more natural form of nature found in one's garden. An unripened, firm banana. What they did with the banana once its use was seen to isn't something that has been recorded.

In Uganda, up until the 19th century, the deflowering of virgins through artificial means was critical. Hymen blood was viewed as being "evil" and so before a husband would bed his wife, he would pay a "priest-like figure" to do it. One who could endure the evils of the hymen. It was up to this priest to decide whether he should use the dildo or his own cock on the bride. I'm certain there wasn't anything pious about his "choices." The dildo was also used throughout Europe to cure what was known as "hysteria" among women. Meaning "hysterical" women not being properly orgasmed and as a result of it were understandably frustrated. The doctor would use a dildo to masturbate his patient and "relieve" the hysteria or send off the patient with a dildo with strict instruction to use it on a regular basis. Doctors.

Needless to say, I could go on. But fortunately for you, I won't. The whole point of this post was to say yes, dildos have been around for a very, very, VERY long time and that yes, they have been used for everything from pleasure to ceremony to God knows what else. Happy New Year and go find yourself a dildo!
Cheers and much love,
Delilah Marvelle