Time travel

Apparently Queen Victoria put on fresh hand-made silk underwear every day of her adult life. Each day her drawers were unworn and fresh out of the packet (brand-spanking new, you could say).
And in 1837, at 18, she had a 20in waist while that had become a 56in waist by the 1890s.  I owe both those factoids to a blog called Kate Tattersall, which also has lots of other interesting things to say about Victorian life.
I came across it today because thought I'd revisit old topics to celebrate the fact that I've just passed the 200,000 hits mark, which I find unbelievable. To mark the milestone I've been having a quick look back to November last year and my very first post here.
And I'm a bit mystified as to why I just jumped straight in with Queen Victoria's drawers (but not into them). Why no gentle introduction? Anyway, Queen Victoria's silk drawers were auctioned and someone paid £10,000 for them.
At the time I didn't give the story much in the way of context, so I'll put that right by sharing some of what the Kate Tattersall blog has to say on drawers. It says that they weren't worn much until the second half of the 19th Century - it was the fashion for crinolines that got girls into undies.
The problem was that if a gust of wind lifted your crinoline you were in trouble unless you had drawers to hide your bare essentials. Drawers were split leggings and about knee length.
Each leg was separate and joined together only at the waistband which left the crotch seam open. Having pants with that opening there seems like a bit of an invitation to me, but then I guess it represents the height of modesty compared with wearing nothing at all.
A last thought, a buyer paid £10K for Victoria's pants at an auction, but Her Maj apparently wore a new pair everyday. Doesn't that means that somebody, somewhere has to be sitting on lots of royal knickers that could all be turned into easy money?

Swingers revisited

This is one of my weirder little fantasies. Sorry to go on about it, but when I'm on a swing (which I often am, a) because I like it and b) I have a child who's still young enough to like it, so I have a valid excuse) I always think spanky things.
Not sure why. I think it's about the way your bottom sticks out in a distinctly inviting way why you really get going on a swing.
It seems to me that anyone with even a hint of the spanko about them who's standing behind me must have an inclination to smack. There (in my case) is one curvy and rather big bottom hurtling at them that is just begging for a good, meaty spank.
If roles were reversed I don't think I could resist. Anyway, I happened upon this image today and that got me thinking about the swing-spanking equation again. In this case the position isn't quite right but the basics are there: 

Swing + Instrument of Correction = Ouch 

The finishing line

It's taken two months of blood, sweat and tears but I've done it. The starting point was a question: why can't I find the sort of erotic novel that I like to read? Lots out their, but they weren't hitting the right spot.
So, I decided to write and publish one of my own. I'm a writer by profession so I was comfortable about putting the words together; it was going to be a novella, but then just growing, ending up at around 58,000 words.
What I hadn't expected was how much fun it turned out to be. I really felt connected with my sparky, spanko heroine Flick and rather miss her now she's gone.
And playing around with the historical setting was fun too. Probably because I've been watching too much 'Downton Abbey' I was stuck into a 19th Century/early 20th Century frame of mind.
As it turned out I shifted things back a few decades and made Flick's story into a homage to all that great Victorian country house erotica. You know, 'Frank & I' and that sort of thing. 
What turned out to be difficult was the publishing process. Getting to grips with new software and not being able to ask advice from friends was frustrating (they'd have wanted to know why I was asking and I'm not brave enough to be out-and-open).
Anyway, it's done. I've sent Flick out into the world. Do have a look at the sample at Amazon - I'd love to hear what you think.

Book Club: Frank & I

I like the idea of being a member of a book club, but from what I've seen in practice they look a little dull. Reading Booker prize shortlist novels is dreary enough without having to then dissect them with a collection of worthy lit chicks.

How much better to a member of a book club that discusses the sort of books you like to read? So I've decided to launch my own club here. Yes, there is a drawback - it's only got one member, me. But the upside of that there's little chance of a serious fall-out at meetings.

To kick things off I've chosen the 19th Century classic Frank & I. Spolier alert here - it's the story of a runaway who is taken in by a charitable English gent. At first he thinks he's a boy, but he's actually a girl.

There's a lot of corporal punishment of the MM-but-actually-MF variety. Then there's plenty more MF with a little FF thrown in for good measure. Lots of spankings, canings, birching etc, but for me it quickly gets a bit repetitive.

What I find fascinating about Frank & I is the insight it gives into the life of the wealthy Victorian landowner, or at least the author's take on that life. Charles Beaumont doesn't really have anything to do but enjoy himself and as a rich man the women around him are expected to serve up what Charley fancies whenever and wherever he fancies it.

For example, he keeps a young women called Maud in a house in London for when he's in town. Maud is less than enthusiastic about Charley's new-found interest in "the rod", but puts up with it. Charely says "I slept with her every night and in the mornings always renewed my vigour by birching her big, white bottom till it turned red as a rose, smarting pain making tears come into her eyes". Not much sense of a 50:50 relationship going on.

Mind you, by the end of things the girls do seem to have things sorted out to their own liking. Frances ('Frank') is the beautiful, accomplished mistress of her own destiny while cheerful Charley has become a bit of a sad, old loser. Serves him right, I'd say.