As I write this post, the USA holiday of Thanksgiving is fast approaching. To a few small factions of my countrymen it’s an origin myth and a religious remembrance. To the rest, it’s a day off. A chance to get together with family. And most of all, the opportunity to roast some unfortunate animal — usually a turkey, sometimes part of a pig or a deer or a cow — and eat it!
Nobody suspends Rule 34 for this or any other holiday. “If a thing exists, there is porn of it. No exceptions.”
The symbolic importance of the roasted stuffed animal at the center of the feast is just too juicy. The apple in the mouth, the vegetables stuffed into the body cavity. The full, rapturous, positive attention of the feasters. It’s charged with erotic and ritual significance. Just to dodge any feminists looking to make a facile critique of the patriarchy “treating women like meat”, I’ll open with a femdom example. Here’s a super-pleased MILF with her dude all served up on her holiday table. She’s ready to enjoy a private dinner and she’s going to devour him exactly the way she wants to:
Still with “no men involved” we go all the way back to 1943 to the Paradise Island of William Marston’s Wonder Woman #3. We get to see his famously sapphic Amazons enacting an elaborate pagan ritual. They dress in deer skins to be ritually butchered, cooked, and served to one another. As if that’s not kinky enough, they must perform erotic dancing under pain of an implied spanking threat!
Previously I showed you a gander in need of saucing, so now it’s time to show you a similar goose:
There’s no more indication in this image than there was in the femdom one that our dinner “guest” is for cooking or carving or devouring. Man and woman alike are, presumably, in for a more sexually metaphorical kind of eating!
But of course literal-ish cannibalistic images do exist in porn and popular culture both. A few such images are sympathetic to the people-eating sex fantasy (fans call it “vore” fetish). Others are created for shock value: to protest against treating women’s bodies like slabs of meat, or to protest against how we treat animals by eating them. This one mocks up a real woman on a fake barbecue to protest against meat eating:
Now we come to the meat — if I may be excused the pun — of the matter. If a thing exists, there is porn of it. No exceptions. Including porn — fantasy art, I hasten to point out — of a shaved and oiled human, bound, stuffed, apple in mouth, on a roasting platter. Surrounded by winter vegetables. Ready for the hot oven. Eyes rolled back. (In fear? Anger? Dismay?)
This art, I think, is genuine vore art. There are other interpretations possible; the platter is not yet in the oven, the dish is not yet cooked or served. That’s what makes art my favorite kind of porn: the viewer gets to decide what’s happening and what’s about to happen. Maybe there’s a rescue; maybe there’s a happy ending, for everybody but the vore fetishist. And even the vore fetishist gets to enjoy his or her fantasy dream of a special holiday meal. No harm done except for some scorched and digested pixels.
And isn’t that something we can all be thankful for? Happy Thanksgiving!