This picture is in honor of the recently completed Yukon Quest sled dog race.

The above picture makes Bacchus thirsty. It also puts him in mind of the following extremely explicit but wildly implausible passage about anal sex and ripe oranges, from the book Captive by Aishling Morgan. Don’t read on if you are likely to be offended by this sort of thing:

Aisla sighed as the warm grease from the roast duck touched her bottom hole, then gave a little gasp as her anus was penetrated. Yarath began to wriggle his finger about in her rectum, exploring her and greasing her ring, then feeling the shape of the tangerines through the membrane between vagina and rectum. Aisla pushed her bottom back, eager for buggery, but was given a gentle slap for her trouble. Yareth’s finger pulled from her anus and something replaced it, not his cock, but another tangerine. 

With her eyes and mouth wide in shock, Aisla struggled to accept the fruit in her back passage. She felt her ring stretch and a complaining stab of pain, but even as she cried out her anus gave and the fruit had popped inside. She accepted it with a long groan. Juice had splashed between her buttocks and was trickling down her thighs, showing that the tangerine had burst as it went up her. Sulitea giggled again as another fruit was pressed to Aisla’s anus, again stretching, hurting and popping inside just when she thought she could not take it. A third followed, leaving both vagina and rectum bloated and straining, while she felt an urgent need to evacuate herself.

Only then did Yarath take her by the hips, and she realised she was to be buggered with the tangerines still in her rectum. His cock went in slowly, forcing the fruit aside and increasing the straining feeling in her bowels. By the time he was in her to the hilt she was panting and struggling for breath, overwhelmed by the bloated sensation in her gut and up her vagina.

Yarath began to bugger her, with the fruit rolling and bumping in her rectum with each push. Aisla’s control went quickly, and as Sulitea came to stroke her hair, she panted and grunted her way through the sodomy. Her hands were locked hard on the table top at first, gripped tight in a futile attempt to control herself. Soon they slipped, first back to her buttocks to stretch them open, then beneath herself to find her clitoris and start on the climb to orgasm.

Similar Sex Blogging:

• Victorian Anal Sex
• Squeezing An Orange
• Goose Grease Prepares The Way!
• The Erotics of Citrus
• Speaking of Oranges

Thanks to Daze we are linked to a nice story about the lusty February holiday that the church flagellated into the submissive modern and chaste St. Valentine’s Day. And what a holiday it was, that old Lupercalia! Complete with a sex lottery:

And all the young lasses in the city would place their names in a large urn, and the city’s eligible bachelors would choose a name out of the urn and become paired for the year with his chosen woman, often resulting in marriage. You know, sort of like the Mormons. Only with actual sex. And booze. And without the creepy undergarments.

Frankly, that sounds like a social custom of real utility!

“…and get into the enemy’s rear, which means get into where all his soft assets are….”

Who says the soldier boys and their media catamites aren’t enjoying all this?

Here’s a really odd article on Christian porn. The odd thing is that the author of the article seems to be really offended by the stuff. Debbi Does Sodom is an “appalling artifact of contemporary decadence”:

Take a peek at Debbi Does Sodom, a 35-minute VHS opus distributed by Saviour Video, complete with a rendering of the “Christian” fish on the logo.

Debbi, played by Tanya Yorke, is an American tourist in the city of Sodom who goes to a bistro, where she meets several men who invite her to a private party at their clubhouse. Debbi accepts and relocates to a seedy ballroom where techno music is throbbing relentlessly. She takes a tablet of Ecstasy and falls into a drugged trance, dancing seductively to the music, then having wild sex with four men at the same time as the copulating group undulates in rhythm with the music.

Suddenly this exceptionally erotic tableau is shattered by the appearance of a police assault team, which bursts through the doors with guns drawn. Debbi’s paramours are brutally beaten, and she is marched nude from the clubhouse into a waiting van. There she encounters two “Christian” evangelists who do their best to help Debbi regain the road to righteousness, by preaching to her and quoting Scripture as the van speeds away through the night. The film ends with Debbi, who has been saved and is now a born-again “Christian,” wearing a choir robe and plastered with lots of cosmetics, singing the glories of Jesus.

Unless Bacchus is misremembering his literary history, this is nothing more or less than a classic morality play, updated for modern viewers and recorded for broader distribution. It’s a video tract with a bit of flesh to draw and keep the eye. In poor taste, perhaps, as is much of the rest of the “body” of popular evangelical artistic and literary material throughout history. But “appalling artifact of contemporary decadence”? Someone is missing the point.

Update: Daniel Radosh kindly wrote in to point out that this article appears to be a fraud of some sort or a badly failed attempt at humor. He reports that Googling the mentioned personages is fruitless, which strongly suggests they do not exist. Thanks to Daniel for the info, and apologies all around for the gullibility that Bacchus substitutes for actual reportage.

Thanks to Acme Labs for the custom heart generator.

When the first picture above was first displayed in this space, there was some concern (and correspondence with other bloggers) that it might be a Photoshop job. It’s hard to imagine the logistics of taking that picture without causing a public stir and/or having words with local law enforcement agencies.

And, indeed, as you can now see that the second picture looks to be the source material for creating the first one. Oh, well, a work of art is a work of art, whatever the medium.