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And just to whet your appetite, some steampunk medical fetish. This is from "Induced Paroxysms" in the Adventuresses collection.
I circled her once more, letting the tension in the room build. I stopped between her legs and addressed the audience again.
“It is my theory that nervous hysteria is caused by a lack of stimulation to the female genitalia. Therefore, we shall proceed to induce paroxysms of pleasure in our subject until she sweats. After that, she shall have a brief rest while I take questions. Then, we shall have a second round of induction and see whether she is greatly improved after that.”
"Quackery,” shouted a male voice from the back row. I looked up and saw a man in a top hat and elaborate, multi-lensed monocle start down the stairs. “Everyone knows that such stimulation is actually quite dangerous for women of quality. Lesser women can endure much of it with no ill effects, but the flower of British womanhood should not be subjected to such outrage in the name of medicine.”
I simply laughed as he reached the floor. “And what would a man know of the illnesses of women? Has he endured the monthly curse? Has he been subject to the whims of the moon and of his own body? Has he borne children in pain and blood? You know nothing, sir. I doubt you know which hole produces healthy infants and which produces only waste. I am quite sure your mother's midwife did not, for she seems to have discarded the baby and kept the other product.”
The audience laughed at that. He tore off his hat.
“Demme, woman, do you mean to say that you, with your feeble brain, have more knowledge than I?”
The crowd roared.
“Indeed I do, at least in this one area. Should we test our relative enlightenment in the field of appearing a jackass in public, I doubt I should prove the better.”
That got an even bigger laugh, He winked at me and we went for the big finish. “This poor unfortunate, lying immobilized on the table behind us, can clearly endure any of these coarse uses you put her to, and more than likely has on many occasions. But the ladies of quality, such as are assembled in the rows and watching, could not and furthermore would not, tolerate such violation of their modesty.”
As if we'd coached her, one woman on the second row stood up and yelled, “Oh please, madame doctor, violate me next!”
The rest caught on. “No, me!” “Me after that!” filtered around until all the women were on their feet begging to be in Casey's position. I held up my hand for quiet.
“If our oh-so-learned colleague will take his outraged morals back to his seat and there use them for a cushion until such time as our demonstration is done, we shall proceed. After the demonstration, provided it works as it should, there will be a subscription sheet for treatments and for my newsletter.”
Alex clamped his hat back on his head and stomped up to the back row, fuming and muttering under his breath. He'd played it perfectly. Now, I hoped he had the sense to slip out before the end and change his costume before some of the ladies decided to re-enact a Rite of the Maneads on him after the show.
“As I was saying before our omniscient colleague chose to enlighten us poor feeblebrained women about the true natures of our bodies, we shall induce in the subject a series of ecstatic paroxysms created by stimulation to her vulva, vaginal cavity and clitoris, aided in part by the pressure on her nipples.” I dropped all semblance of the neutral physician. “Who is ready to watch her writhe?” I shouted, and snapped my goggles over my eyes with a maniacal laugh, all mad scientist now.
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