The reason I blame Queen Elizabeth for everything having to do with love relationships.

It was when I was married to my first of three husbands that she perpetrated the biggest baby boom that England had ever seen.

She and her doctor advised all the women in England to help populate the new English colonies and to replace those in England who died from the plague by getting a free state sponsored five minute operation that would make them have more children. A tremendous number took her up on that offer. Nearly half of England's women of child bearing age had the free operation. The Queen did not tell anyone that the way it caused us to have more children was indirect. It made those women want more sex and nature took care of the rest.

The wagon with three midwives who performed the simple operation of slitting the little hood that covers most of a women's clitoris came by one day. Between the operations that were done right in the wagon I asked them a few questions.

The head midwife sat me down and then told me she would cut or peel some of the skin off and then come back a month later and I could get some more cut off if it wasn't enough.

I asked 'how do I know if it is enough' and the midwife told me 'when he comes out' when I was passionate 'in embrace' (She meant while making love but I did not know that is what she meant).

'Who comes out?' I asked nervously looking over my shoulder to see if someone was hiding somewhere and maybe watching us through a peep hole. 

She replied 'The little man' and so I turned around again and looked but this time I did it really fast and looked lower. Then I quickly bent over and looked under the table. 

'This little bump' and she showed me how to feel my clitoris through the skin. She explained that 'when 'he' comes out all the way during 'embrace' then I would have the most children'. 'He' will not work as 'he' should until then' she explained. 

This just confused me even more. I could not figure out why that would make me produce more children and why she insisted on referring to that part of my female body as a man. So I decided I should play it safe by asking the midwife a question that only had a simple 'yes' or 'no' answer.  'Is he supposed to come out?'

She looked at me as if asking me 'Are you an idiot?' Then she saw my quizzical look and realized that I had no idea what she was talking about. Suddenly she had an insight. Then she reached under my skirt and did something with her fingers that felt incredibly wonderful. Then she looked a lot closer. Afterwards she lifted her head and told the other woman to cut extra off of me the first time but then turned back to me and said that she was very confounded. 

She had seen the same thing mainly in rural peasant women who rode horses bareback when they were children but she saw that I was obviously a high born and rich lady of class. She then asked me what I did for work when I was a child. (Most children including those of royal birth worked from when they were about five years old and the girls worked until they were married and then they took care of their family which was always full time work.) I explained that my family was in charge of breeding and training horses for the Royal family and since I taught children from throughout Europe to ride our ponies while I was growing up I also rode them and I often rode bareback.  

She explained that lots of horse back riding caused the skin over 'the little man' to spread out more to cover and protect it and sometimes the riding also made the skin harder and thicker. She mentioned something about me being disappointed with sex and I said 'It is fine and I like it'.  She just smiled mischeviously and said 'Oh, you think you like sex now?' but it just added it to everything else that did not make sense so I forgot almost everything she said including this.

I feel the operation needs to be described better for some reason. The operation did not remove any skin that normally covered the clitoris. Only the excess was removed. It was trimmed back to near the edge of the clitoris. I had to get into a weird position so they could fold the extra skin backwards to create a crease right near the edge of the clitoris. Then the extra skin was just slit off like a person opens a letter with a knife by drawing the blade forward. 

The actual cutting only took a second and this way if the woman happened to accidentally move then she was facing away from the patient so the blade could not cut her. 

Afterwards the skin barely covered the clitoris. For those women who had the operation their clitoris came out more easily and when stimulated was always more fully exposed, hence the women felt more pleasure and that made them want to have more sex and that is what increased the population of England to record levels. The average English woman had enough extra skin that even when aroused only about 1/3 of the clitoris was exposed so they got only 1/3 the pleasure. The operation tripled women's fun and created the 'merry' part of 'merry old England'. 

Half the women in 16th century England had this operation performed. The protests against Queen Elizabeth that you read about in the history books seemed to have evaporated at about this time. I guess the men were suddenly a lot less frustrated for some reason.

Mine was covered by a lot of skin so it never came out and making love for me was like kissing through three layers of cellophane. (However, if you are a man then a far more accurate analogy is: It was about as much fun as
wearing three condoms when making love.)

Until the operation I liked sex quite nicely. I would hold off my meagre orgasms and when my husband turned away after finishing I would pretend that he had energized me so much with his vitality that I had to immediately go sweep out the house. I would rush out into our garden and finish my orgasm while leaning into the broom stick with one eye watching the neighbors yard to make sure they didn't come out and accuse me of being a witch. 

Sometime while in 'embrace' with my husband an orgasm got through my defenses and I had to pretend that I had a leg spasm. But I could only use that excuse about once a month or my husband would get suspicious that I might actually be feeling some pleasure. That was supposed to be impossible according to the decree of the medical establishment so of course women didn't feel any pleasure, or at least they never told educated men that they felt anything. Common class men were much different and most of them knew the truth about women.

We were so prudish that the only proper way for a lady of class to tighten her corset (or remove hair caught in it) was to somehow go to church and have a cleric remove it.

corsetOver the following 200 years It only changed slightly to include an old man or a small child as shown in the 18th century drawing at the left.

However, after that operation there was nothing I could do but scream with delight. That one cut is all it took to at least triple my orgasms and often I had four orgasms, one right after another and that cut even made them so intense that sometimes I forgot who I even was. 

However, my husband's ego and his erections got smaller and smaller and smaller.

Since he had told me about the operation and suggested that I have it (and especially because Queen Elizabeth's had endorsed the operation) the only thing my husband could do in protest was to drink. So drink he did. 

Within a year and a half we had lost everything. Then he drank himself to death and left me out in the cold.

So that is why I blamed the queen for everything having to do with love relationships.


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