
And I think that’s it for now on the virginity front, though I feel like I’ve given virgin sacrifices short change. Also, I don’t think I’ve found a really classic virgin sacrifice, the trope without any extra bells and whistles. Anyone got any images that fit the bill?
(Source: olderoticart)

The recently late Edward Woodward in The Wicker Man, one of the classic horror films. Complete with virgin sacrifice, although the burning alive version, rather than the stabbing version.

I used to read comics. Sometimes I still do.
One thing that always bothered me about comic books was how the covers would pose what I considered to be a narrative challenge: the hero is about to be shot, twice, in like 1/1000 of a second. And then the KKK-Nazi-cult leader dude will impale the virginal heroine with his stiff, quivering sword. It’s inescapable. How will they survive?
And then, inside the comic itself, this setup never actually happens, so the author doesn’t have to solve the problem on the cover.
Fucking A, man.
Yeah.
I’m pretty clear that there are no “Vicuni Indians” in Guatemala, savage or otherwise. And if there were, I doubt they’d be dressed like that. But hey, bondage and nipples can’t be all bad.
The trailer is here. Looks a lot like Burbank.

1985: Virgin Sacrifice Woman in Box
Someone would rather get a peek than keep their sacrificial victim properly restrained. Tsk tsk.
When I think “virgin sacrifice”, the image that comes to mind is something like this. Well, not the crocodile and the viking dude. But the naked or scantily clad maiden lying on the stone altar, chained down and/or entranced. And the skeezy priestly dude with a big knife poised to strike. Check, check, check.
Thing is, although I feel like I’ve seen versions of this image many times, they’re actually quite hard to find. This script is so well-worn and overused that it almost never gets played straight anymore. A Google image search for “virgin sacrifice” and the obvious cognates turns up very little that fits the bill.

Virgin sacrifice, as a trope, is pretty closely related to defloration (usually with the same poses and symbolic drama). Which makes this image a bit of an anomaly, since we have a guy. He’s thinking, the abstinence-until-marraige people never told me about this part.
Virginity as torture:
“Teach me, O, please teach me,” she started in again, “I want to be like you. I’ll do anything you tell me. Promise me you’ll take me with you when you go back to that place Jacqueline told me about.”
“You’re too young,” O said.
“No, I’m not too young, I’m fifteen going on sixteen,” she cried out angrily. “I’m not too young. Ask Sir Stephen,” she said, for he had just entered the room.
Natalie was granted permission to remain with O, and extracted the promise that she would be taken to Roissy. But Sir Stephen forbade O to teach her the least caress, not even a kiss on the lips, and also gave strict instructions that O was not to allow Natalie to kiss her. He had every intention of having her reach Roissy completely untouched by hands or lips. By way of compensation, what he did demand, since Natalie was loath to leave O, was that she not leave her a single moment, that she witness O caressing both Jacqueline and himself, that she be present when O yielded to him and when he whipped her, or when she was flogged by old Norah. The kisses with which O smothered her sister, O’s mouth glued to her, made Natalie quiver with jealousy and hate. But glowering on the carpet in the alcove, at the foot of O’s bed, like little Dinarzade at the foot of Scheherazade’s bed, she watched each time that O, tied to the wooden balustrade, writhed and squirmed beneath the riding crop, saw O on her knees humbly receiving Sir Stephen’s massive upright sex in her mouth, saw her, prostrate, spread her own buttocks with both hands to offer him the after passage - she witnessed all these things with no other feelings but those of admiration, envy, and impatience.
OK….several years ago, I recall reading an article (in Harpers? The New Yorker?) about virginity pledge workshops. The author mentioned that one of these groups used a two-part pledge card, where the virgin signs one half and carries it around in their wallet, while the other half goes to the organization….who would collect them to make huge, phallic, sculptures out of virgin pledge cards.
If that’s true, it’s obviously the creepiest thing since people started putting raisins in perfectly good breakfast cereal. But I can’t find any hint of it via Google. Help?
Also, still looking for the snail-and-ring-gag picture. It’s been a year, folks.
(Unique tag situation alert…)