Bethie and I actually once stayed in a brand new Hampton Inn that had a room vase full of dried bamboo stalks, but they were small and fragile and somewhat cracked-looking, under a coat of fragile-looking varnish. So, I let myself be talked into the proposition that it would do too much damage to the display to use the bamboo stalks for their divinely-intended purpose.
Since my post ten days or so ago about spanking opportunities in the new 3D SexVilla software, I haven’t made very much progress figuring out all the customization options. But, I have confirmed that the riding crop tool leaves reasonably convincing bruisy marks when you use it repeatedly on tender areas, and the virtual models can manage some fairly convincing painful grimaces:
But vice, like virtue, must have its rewards, else nobody would be doing it — and in this case, if the virtual models don’t get their orgasm rewards, you don’t earn “sex coins” to use buying more and fancier dildos, poses, and outfits. So it’s time for a vibrator (and a ball gag to keep the screaming level down):
I’ve made one abortive stab at figuring out the 3D SexVilla2pose editor to see if I can create better spanking poses; it even looks possible to make custom animations linking custom poses in a way that would allow, say, an OTK spanking. But that’s an involved process, and I haven’t learned enough finesse yet to get results worth showing.
Update: It turns out that there’s a new user community for the Kink-branded version of the 3D SexVilla software. Kink Land is just getting started, but it looks promising!
This art is was painted by Norman Saunders in the 1960s for the Battle cards series, and was withdrawn from publication after unwelcome attention in the British House of Commons:
You might think that it’s been awhile since allegations of blasphemy featured prominently in threatened legal proceedings. You might think that, but you’d be wrong.
If it’s true, as it seems to be, that these photos were taken in a working church without the permission of its owners and proprietor, I think we can righteously condemn the photographer as being — at least — a bit of a prat. But I confess, when I look at the photos, it’s not hard to imagine an alternate world in which they are the documentary record of a schoolgirl field-trip outing gone bad due to youthful high spirits and insufficient chaperonage:
Whatever the proper degree of condemnation for the photographer in our world, in that alternative fantasy world I think we all know what ought to happen to these young ladies for their blasphemous conduct. Just think, what would Abel do?
