|The late Andy Whitfield of Spartacus, a man of inimitable sex appeal.|
Hot pagan sex and lustful gods and ancient wolf goddesses and potential marriage and more sex and more than a little crazed giddy divine animal blood sacrifice. All followed by some nice light whippings administered by nearly naked grinning boy-men, casual flagellations by goat-skin, some joyful thrashing in the name of fertility and purity and, you know, sex. Ahh, Valentine's Day.It all starts with Lupercalia, a Roman fertility festival celebrated on the 15th of February. Festivities would begin with a little good old-fashioned goat and dog sacrifice, then
Some hunky boys of noble birth were then led to the shrine, where the priests would dab their foreheads with a sword dipped in the animal blood...Then, a feast. Meat. Wine galore. Followed by the slicing of goat skins into pieces, some of which the priests cut into strips and dipped in the blood and then handed to the boys, who would take off and run through the streets, gently touching or lashing crops and bystanders -- especially women -- with the skins along the way to inspire fertility and harvest and because hey, half-naked laughing boys wielding bloody goat skins - what's not to love? Actually, the women eagerly stepped forward to be so stroked, believing that such a blessing rendered them fertile (even if they were sterile), and procured them ease in childbearing, and made them look all gothy and cool and sexy.Joyful, kinky public whippings! All in the name of sex and fertility. I don't know about you, but this beats a box of conversation hearts any day.
Happy Lupercalia! I hope you get your ass whipped!
|"The Romans of the Decadence" by Thomas Couture, 1847|