A LIMERICKS STORY

By Bob Birch©

Limerick stories are not always successful, as most lovers of the classic limerick style are devotees of the "wham, bham, thank you ma'am" five-liners. To attempt to string a series of these together tends to produce a story with a sing-song quality. Unfortunately, I have an affinity for the writing of stories, and in my 1999 book, Limericks for Lechers, I string together up to 16 five-line verses. To be honest, however, I do not always begin with the intention of writing a story, but keep writing additional verse in frantic search of that perfect ending... the final climax that will bring a conclusion to a quickie that had turned into a marathon.

There are times, however, when I do indeed intend to write a story, often not knowing when and how it will end... but always hoping for a bang that, unfortunately, does not always come. In such instances I can only hope that the story itself will make the effort of reading it worthwhile. All too often, however, that has been wishful thinking on my part.

I have found it both fun and challenging to begin with something I have read that offers potential for some bawdy verse. The 1999 book The Technology of Orgasm*, by historian Rachel Maines, provides this kind of stimulus. The author writes that in the 1800's, doctors routinely practiced the healing art of "external pelvic massage," or more precisely, the masturbation of their female patients. This was at a time when men (and a lot of women) were unaware of the significance of the highly erogenous clitoris, and as a result, a large number of women were chronically frustrated.

In medical circles, it was believed that this external massage, culminating in a therapeutic release, would provide temporary relief from physical, emotional and sexual tension... the symptoms of what was then diagnosed as "hysteria."

In the writing of my as-yet-unpublished Limericks for Lovers, I have written, in limerick story form, the case histories of a number of women seeking treatment for the sexual restlessness associated with chronic hysteria. The following is the case of Nellie MaGrew, for whom external genital massage has been prescribed as the treatment of her general malaise and pelvic congestion.

There's the case of young Nellie MaGrew,
Who suffered the symptoms of flu,
          So she wanted to talk
          To her friendly old doc,
Who always knew just what to do.

He described what he'd do in detail,
And then pretty young Nellie grew pale.
          To be played with down there
          Gave this patient a scare,
And what if the treatment would fail.

But considering all of the facts
She wondered if she could relax.
          The doc said, "Don't linger,
          I've warmed up my finger,
And I know about contours and cracks."

Young Nellie, a virginal maid,
Had never been fondled nor laid.
          Closing tight her blue eyes
          She spread open her thighs
As her fears began slowly to fade.

She felt a soft gentle caress
As Doc Shelly reached under her dress.
          When he hit the right spot
          Our sweet Nellie got hot,
And at this point she couldn't care less.

She felt she was high like on coke,
Then it seemed that her fever had broke.
          She yelled "Holly shit!"
          When her orgasm hit,
And she thought she had just had a stroke.

Both her legs were still up in the air
When she asked "What just happened down there?
          That was something all new,
          My God what did you do?
Never mind, it felt good, I don't care!"

"I hope that your schedule's not booked,
Let me know what you've got once you've looked.
          I still feel quite delirious,
          My condition's most serious,
On this treatment I think I am hooked."

In his book the doc took a quick peek,
"I can see you again in one week."
          Then his treatment progressed,
          As the doc got undressed-
'Twas a pelvic exam, so to speak.

"Now Nellie, I want you to heed,
"I'm giving a shot that you need,"
          Well the doc began moaning,
          That then turned to groaning,
And poor Mary had thought he had peed.

One day as our Nellie undressed,
She said, "I'm becoming obsessed
          That my belly's grow larger,"
          So the doc didn't charge 'er,
And said, "You are merely depressed."

Doc Shelly said then with a wink,
"On this pad I will write what I think,
          For it's all in your head,"
          So I think that instead
Of me you should go see this shrink."

Said the shrink, "No you're not a neurotic,
And you're hardly a raving psychotic.
          It is not a delusion
          Nor crazy illusion,
The cause of your swelling's erotic."

So she called up Doc Shelly and said,
"The shrink said it's not in my head,
          But I wanted to mention,
          That I'm feeling some tension,
And I fear that I'll soon be quite dead."

Then the doc said, "That news is quite numbing,
But I've sworn to attend to your plumbing.
          So don't worry at all,
          For I'll make a house call,
You'll not go, for I'll soon have you coming."

Well he skillfully dispelled her fears,
And her orgasm brought her to tears,
          But she said with a grin,
          As the doctor slid in,
"This treatment will likely take years."

So that was the story of Nellie,
And her care under old Doctor Shelly.
          Diagnosis was made,
          And the doctor's been paid,
But her cure caused a well-rounded belly.

  

  

*Reference: Maines, R. P., 1999. The Technology of Orgasm: Hysteria, the Vibrator, and Women's Sexual Satisfaction. Johns Hopkins University Press: Baltimore.

Updated 10/27/00

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