We have spent many long, exhausting days (and
nights) studying the female sexual response, but our supply of original
material quickly dried up and the carpets became far too sticky to walk
on, so we sent our newest reporter, Robin Scunthorpe, to an imposing
castle in Bavaria, where we had learned that Professor Karl Zeuss was
the leading authority on the subject in the developed world. What follows
is Robin's very personal account of his chat with the reclusive and
“Good morning, Professor Zeus,” I began, having established
beforehand that the professor had a passable command of English.
“It is Zeuss,” he hissed, “zere are two
esses. You must never forget ze essesss.”
Thinking I had already blown any chance of a rapport with this man by
mispronouncing his name, I got straight down to business by asking him
what the secret of the female orgasm was. There was a long pause, during
which the cadaverous academic peered at me over the rim of his pince-nez.
Eventually he leaned forward on the threadbare elbows of his cardigan
and began speaking in a very animated fashion.
“You see, my boy,” he said, with an air of unsettling familiarity,
“Ve men have no problem with orgasm; ze front cover of Health
and Efficiency was sufficient to drain ze poison from ze gonads
in my youth, und even zat had ze genitalia airbrushed out. But zen,
we have ze physical appendage that enables us to both see and feel ze
state of our arousal. Zis is a most useful advantage—a most useful
He stopped speaking and leant slowly back in his leather chair, as
if recalling memories from the distant past, his eyes tightly shut and
his hands clenched into fists upon his lap. Then, as if coming out of
a dream, he leaned forward again and continued. “Women are not
like zis. Their genitals are...how do you say?...an entirely different
kettle of fishes. I have spent decades researching just what are ze
stimulants zat will bring a woman to orgasm in a very short time, but
only now has my penny been spent.”
“You mean the penny has dropped?” I interjected, helpfully.
“Try not to interrupt,” he barked. “I have found zat
women have to be very relaxed in order to orgasm—very, very relaxed.
In order to achieve zis for his wife or girlfriend or ze cheap floozie
he has picked up in some back alley—"
"Back alley, professor?"
"Don't interrupt! Even ze ladies of ze night deserve consideration.
It is important zat ze man does everything he can to make ze lady as
comfortable as possible. She must have pampers, complete pampers. Only
then will she let go und her troubles will all flood out.”
“You mean pampered?” I ventured hesitantly.
“Pampers, pampered—it all mounts up to ze same thing, my
boy...relaxation. Und zen she must have ze ambience. Ze soft, sensuous
lighting, or better still, scented candles to provide ze right mood.
Also, she is requiring soothing music zat is melodic yet a little mysterious...but
not played too loud—never too loud, or ze man will not be able
to hear her cries at ze moment of crises.”
This was certainly getting more interesting, as I had been a lover
of music since the 1950s when my mother could not stop singing 'Does
your chewing gum lose its flavour on the bedpost overnight?”
“Could you recommend any particular music?” I asked hopefully.
“Ze Enid,” he said with a quiet smugness that seemed to
border on arrogance.
“What—'Something Wicked This Way Comes?”
I replied with self-assurance.
“Nein...” he sighed and added almost inaudibly, “Touch
“Zat's ze name of ze song, not a cheap come-on. I'm not gay you
"Do...er, go on, professor.”
“Some might say ze piano passages are rather odd und quirky, but
I have found through many experiments zat ze syncopated rhytmus is extremely
stimulating to ze female libido.”
He was almost trance-like now, wringing his hands continuously as he
leaned almost painfully forward in his chair. “Zen food.”
“Food?” I asked
“Yes...food...und it must be ze right food. None of zose off-ze-peg
“Take-away, take-out, whip-up, it's all ze same krep,” he
replied, his voice climbing several octaves as he re-adjusted his pince-nez.
“Vot is wanted is a lightly poached salmon fillet nestling on
ze soft bed of wild rocket with asparagus tips und baby potatoes dripping—dripping,
you understand—in a buerre blanc....And drink...only ze finest
champagne...all zose bubbles signifying ze rising of ze innermost desires
to the surface. Zat is the secret, my boy. Ze woman should now recline.
Ze man must be subservient, but at ze same time concentrating on ze
physical signs. Just watch her mouth as her lips become moister. Look
very carefully and you may detect a slight dribble from ze corner of
her lips. Zis will tell you zat ze time is very near.”
“The time?” I asked rather naively.
“Yes!” he exclaimed excitedly, pounding his clenched fist
on his thigh. “Ze time when ze delicious creamy fluid substance
is to be administered by ze man!”
Well, that was the first time I had heard it described in that fashion,
but I dared not interrupt him as he rattled on at a break-neck pace.
“...Ze timing of ze introduction of ze creamy nectar, is of ze
most vital importance. Ze utmost concentration is necessary to choose
ze right moment to go to ze fridge.”
“The fridge?” This departure caught me somewhat off guard.
“Yes ze fridge!” he repeated as if I was some kind of idiot.
“You don't want it to go soft now, do you?”
“Don't want what to go soft?”
“Ze Haagen Dazs. Ze ice cream—”
“—Ice cream...?” I asked warily, “I thought—”
“— I know vot you thought! Will you stop interrupting, you
“A normal 500ml carton would be plenty, but a small bottle of
a sweet sauce is also vital. See how the woman's pupils dilate when
her eyes catch sight of ze ice cream tub und watch carefully how her
breathing becomes heavier as she greedily removes ze lid, revealing
ze creamy, sensuous interior. However, you must wait und observe as
her movements will now become increasingly jerky und uncontrolled...see?...she
tosses aside ze spoon in favour of her hands…notice how she is
now moaning faintly but more frequently as she takes bigger und bigger
mouthfuls—at ze same time moving her thighs together in a rhythmic
fashion which becomes faster und more urgent. She will start to utter
more audible groans as she forces more and more into her mouth; some
will leak out around the sides and drip gently onto her heaving bosom.
She may mutter words such as ‘oh Gott, yes’ und ‘zat
is lovely’ or possibly even ‘is zere any more?’ und
you must be ready... for just as she is working herself into a frenzy
und grabbing more ice cream, take your bottle of sauce...I recommend
maple syrup, but butterscotch can be just as effective...und squirt
ze contents on ze top of ze remaining ice cream. If you are really lucky
she will shout your name as she pushes ze last handfuls into her mouth
und falls back onto the sofa, exhausted. As her eyelids close gradually,
she will utter zose wonderful words zat every man wants to hear: ‘oh
thank you, that was the most wonderful time, ever.”
Professor Zeuss slumped back into his armchair, breathing hard, the sweat
pouring down his face and wiped his pince-nez with a trembling hand.
“Zere...my boy,” he sighed, “how was zat for you?”
I was left a little breathless and also very confused.
“Wait a minute,” I said. “Is that it?” “What
about her genitals? Do they play no part in this?”
He was about to close his eyes, but stopped to regard me with a pitying
look over his pince-nez.
“Oh no, dear boy. Oh dear me, no. Ze genitals? Oh, mine Gott,
no. I have done much research into zat part of a woman's anatomy und
while I admit zat ze vaginal massage will sometimes produce a spurious
temporary euphoria, it is nothing compared to vot I have just described
to you. Ze handling of ze female genitalia produces a kaleidoscope of
images in the minds of women undergoing zis form of primitive und clumsy
stimulation. My measurements of ze brain wave patterns during zis phase
have conclusively shown zat ze various shades seen are a direct correlation
with the Dulux Vinyl Silk Emulsion colour chart in the event of clitoral
arousal, and the patterns seen with stimulation of the inner labia are
from the Crown ‘easy-up’ wallpaper catalogue.”
“Er...you've lost me, professor."
Suddenly, the door opened and a nurse walked in.
“Ah there you are Mr Zeuss,” she exclaimed. “I have
been looking for you everywhere. It's time for your medication.”
With that, she pulled him out of the chair and, without so much as an
acknowledgement to me, led him through the open door and out into the
dimly lit corridor.
“I think you will need two injections in your bottom tonight,”
she said as they walked on into the gloom “And then I have a nice
big bowl of soup for you, liebchen...”
“I hope it is ze thick pea soup with smoked bacon und frankfurters,”
“Oooh, you're such a naughty boy,” exclaimed the nurse,
patting his bottom affectionately. I decided that this might be an opportune
time to make a hasty exit and legged it.
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Story © 2005 Robin Scunthorpe.
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