Great grandfather to the modern slasher film, the posters of Grand Guignol seem to promise something more than blood soaked massacres as entertainment   These posters would never fly today as advertisements for legitimate theater. Frankly, I'm surprised they were accepted in the 1920s, when Grand Guignol was at its brief height. The point of Grand Guignol was extreme, realistic violence. They had all manner of graphic violence, and showing the violence was something that wasn't at all common---especially with the realistic, buckets of blood approach. The Elizabethans had their go at it, but they were restrained by comparison to Grand Guignol, who really went balls to the walls with this. As the quote below explains the experiences of one actress in the company: From 1917 to the 1930s, [Paula Maxa] performed most frequently as a victim and was known as "the most assassinated woman in the world." During her career at the Grand Guignol, Maxa's characters were murdered more than 10,000 times in at least 60 different ways and raped at least 3,000 times. The posters, however, suggest there was something more than just blood lust and seeing realistic violence on stage, for an audience who had never experienced such a thing in their entertainment before.
It was sexual: in particular, it was overt sexual violence toward women.
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"Meet Me At Bun Boy": An intimate story about pegging in the middle of the California Desert8/15/2018 Once again, a Lady Ristretto short story produced by the dirty minds at dirtybitpodcast...It's free. It's hot. And there are other free, hot stories on the rest of their site. Check them out HERE.   Who wouldn't want to hear in detail what it's like to fuck a lesbian virgin?  My friends send me the best shit to write about. These come from the Etsy store GlowFYourself. All of these are custom built and available today. You can even request a custom buttplug, if these smutpunk designs aren't arousing enough for you.
And there are many, many more. The obvious question is would a person be able to get off having a shark eating a leg stuffed in their butt? I think the answer is yes, because people are so diverse, creative, and deliciously strange that anything is possible sexually. But what's most likely the orgasmic experience of these devices is the fetishization of their satiric and iconoclastic nature. These not only cross conventional boundaries that define what is arousing and sexy, but trample institutions with strict propriety: a butt plug converted from a children's game, from a horrific and deadly animal attack, from sacred Christian imagery, from a pagan totem designed to elicit good luck. This is the tantalizing, titillating, nipple hardening, brain stimulating power of these objects. And, fuck, may god bless them.
 ...J turned me around, lubricated his dick, and slid it up my ass, standing up. I had a very hard time standing with him thrusting easily in and out of my ass, holding me, fondling my breasts. I kept wanting to let my knees buckle and collapse on the bed. He had me bend over and touch my toes, locking my knees, and he went deeper, and it felt sublime.
He asked if I wanted him to go even deeper---I said yes, so we got on the bed. I laid on my back and he got on top, and thrust in slowly. He went in and out so slowly, gently, lovingly. He kissed my neck and made love to me and it drove me insane. I trembled. I rubbed myself against him. I asked if I could scream when I came; he said he’d prefer I didn’t---so when I came quickly, I internalized it and it was a ten--a head to toes ten. He kept going and it only got better for me. It felt so incredible, I whimpered; I couldn’t think. It was like a cloud bank had moved into my head. I was whimpering so much, J asked if I wanted him to stop---I couldn’t answer. I couldn’t form words. I couldn’t speak. So seeing this, he said, “Squeeze me if you want me to continue.” I put my arms around him and squeezed and he went on. Tears came to my eyes; I nearly cried. My whimpering increased and he asked again if he should stop. It took me several minutes to say “switch”. He Understood me, put on a condom, and got in my cunt. I almost came again, and would have if J lasted longer. I wasn’t disappointed I didn’t. When he came, I moaned as if I were coming. I was just about dead after. I laid there motionless, J watching me, so very pleased with himself. Ten minutes it took before I could speak in complete sentences. As soon as I could laugh, I laughed. J said that although I wasn’t the first girl that had lost the power of speech, I was the first to do so during anal sex.  …[J] pulled out two boxes from Frederick’s of Hollywood---the outfits he had bought for A. Why she gave them back I’m not sure. I opened the green one first---it was like a corset, with ribbons lacing it up the front, and a g-string in the back, complete with stockings and garters and gloves. I didn’t like it that much, but J said it was his favorite. The other I went wild over; it was a red corset with straps and ruffles around the legs, and the most gorgeous bead and sequin work. I put the red one on and it fit pretty good, and J put on the green one, very expertly, too.
He got on the bed, on all fours, and said I could play with him like that. I wasn’t sure at all what he meant, so I just started jerking him off. That probably wasn’t what he meant, because it didn’t last long. If he meant a rim job, I wasn’t giving him one. So he laid down and I straddled him, kissing him. He said his dick was too soft, so I sucked it like before until he was hard and twitching. He put on a condom and fucked him hard, on top. And I adopted an unexpected, odd attitude. Seeing him in that outfit, being on top, I felt a superiority over him---I felt more feminine, more of a woman than him. He was at a disadvantage; I was in the stronger position; I wanted to dominate him, tell him what to do, be in total control. He said I should straddle his face so we could do a 69 thing, and I said No---flat out No. He said I could take off the outfit so I could feel his better, rubbing against my skin, and I said No---just to refuse. I wanted to stay on top, I wanted to do all the work and sweat and wear myself out. And I ground myself into him like I never have before---fast and violent; very R-esque fucking. And I came like a bullet train. It was an 8.4. I screamed. J said after that I’ve never screamed that loud before, that he imagined the kids outside could her me through his open windows. And I felt giddy, fuck drunk. I kept laughing. Right after, we got out of the outfits, and my new superior attitude disappeared.  ...we went driving---at liquor stores we bought cokes, JD coolers, and condoms---we ended up at a church, where we drank in the parking lot---and then Mt. SAC---it was all open and I took R to see Dr. D’s classroom---and he pissed against the door---then we wandered through the hallways---the dark enclosed hallways, finally stopping in one for….experimentation---first we were going to try ball-sucking---he leaned against a little brick wall, and I got on my knees, and he pulled down everything---he was totally hard---I tried seeking out his balls, but his fully erect penis was just so inviting, I concentrated more on that---my arms went around his legs---and he pulled my shirt up, and my bra up, and went for my breasts, pushing them together, and fucking between them, pressing the nipples against the end---once he pinched my nipple and I cried out a little---then he wanted to fuck me up the ass---we tried on one little wall---I unbuttoned and unzipped my pants, but made him take them down---he tried, but the angle was all wrong---so he had me kneel on the stairs and that worked---it hurt a little, but felt great---the motion of it all was amazing...it was funny though---after he came and pulled out, he said the condom was gone---it was still in my ass---so I pulled it out and flung it on the grass---he accidentally left the others on the wall, too...and there was come on my legs..
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AuthorI've been extraordinarily open minded about sex ever since my first year in college, when I learned women could have orgasms. (I was a late bloomer in high school.) Nothing shocks me. All of it interests me. I can never get enough of it. 
All of the pics in my blog are stolen/borrowed from other websites. I consider myself not really a thief, but a pirate. Arrrrrrr!!!
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