A Short History Lesson (Wake up at the back there, you might enjoy it!)

Let’s start off by giving you a damsel in distress, something most of you men tend to have a weakness for. And not just any young wench in need of your chivalrous intervention, but one whose misadventure has her dangling from a tree with torn stockings and , if I am not mistaken, no knickers on. A girl with her blouse so ripped and shredded it might not be there at all so her lush young breasts are on full naked display. And I don’t have to tell you, what extraordinary and wonderful breasts they are! Full, ripe, and so out thrusting that the urge to grasp and lick and fondle them would probably so addle the brains of any potential rescuer he might well forget all his noble plans to protect her and end up as her next tormentor.


Who is this voluptuous young maid who has unfortunately lost most of her clothes?

She’s Maghella, an Italian comic strip character from the nineteen seventies, the sort of comic that fourteen year old boys would secretly buy to wank over, only to have it confiscated by Father who would take it to his study, lock the door, carefully and disapprovingly examine it for a good hour and then masturbate over it. (Yes, as you can see I’m an expert on the subject of self pleasuring. Boys wank, men masturbate .That’s all you need to know. What? Us girls, masturbate? The very idea!)


I’ll be coming back to Maghella in a moment, but as Sexuelle is aimed at sophisticated adults rather than dirty minded adolescents, let’s move on, temporarily anyway, to images which were aimed at a more grown up audience. Long pre- dating Maghella, Alberto Vargas was penning pictures of, here we go again, lush, slim, full breasted temptress for Esquire magazine and then Playboy.

Like Maghella, his females tended to either be wearing so little there was hardly any point to the few wisps draping their extraordinary bodies or were totally naked. (He had a big weakness for the see through night dress, and I will be re- posting an article on that shortly.)

Superficially there was little difference between Maghella and Vargas’ bedroom fantasy females as their sole purpose would have been to make the target reader horny, and of course they both had the sort of bodies that men would dream about on warm nights, in particular being in possession of the sort of pneumatic breasts that a girl can only get by having copious quantities of sperm rubbed in them. (What? You mean I shouldn’t listen when my various boyfriends tell me that? Oh well!)

Anyway, moving swiftly on, on examination, the differences between the two soon become apparent.


Maghella seems to have spent her entire time running through hostile forests and up castle stairs in a desperate attempt to escape some ever more lurid fate worse than death. This is why the poor girl’s clothes have been ripped off her, and no doubt she really would have rather been curled up at home in a nice woolly cardigan catching up on the Leveson enquiry. Instead of that she is instead almost permanently on the verge of being ravished,

whipped,

stabbed,

or even being cooked for someone’s TV dinner.

Generally her tormentors are demonic males, but quite often they are vicious females wearing as little as she, and sometimes even theses are unable to keep their grasping hands off those all too inviting breasts of hers.

Maghella is the ultimate sado masochistic fantasy female whose purpose in life is to feed the imaginations of those whose idea of a nice quiet evening in with their girlfriend includes a little light torture.


Despite the bodily similarities, the Vargas female however was an entirely different creature; they weren’t running anywhere. Way ahead of their time in their sexual liberation they were not planning on escaping from any sexual experience that might come their way, and indeed were positively inviting it in.

They were always pictured in a state of languid recline and their nakedness was all too deliberate. The captions to Vargas’ illustrations made it quite clear that they were naked either because they had just had sex, or were about to have sex, or because they were tempting some lucky, if exhausted, man to have sex with them. They are every man’s bedroom fantasy, their bodies an erotic dream made flesh and ever in need of being serviced by the lucky man just outside of the picture to whom their inflammatory remarks are being addressed.

I have little doubt that both Vargas and the artist who drew Maghella must have spent most of their working time in a state of priapic over arousal and that by the end of their careers their poor willies must have looked like burned out Roman candles as a result of endless hours of masturbation.


 Despite the clearly sadistic overtones of the Maghella stories, I do not know of any pictures of her being given a proper spanking, (shame, just imagine her lush nakedness struggling over your knee as you peel her kickers down, but no doubt some of you have already been doing that!) but on one occasion at least her adventures find her in some schoolroom situation on the verge of having her lovely Italian bottom about to be caned.

Whether or not she escaped this in the nick of time or had to endure it I don’t know, and you’ll have to dig out a copy of the comic yourself if you really want to know, though I do wonder if there can be any copies left that don’t have all the pages stuck together.

Clearly Vargas was clearly not into spanking despite his giving us an endless stream of the exact sort of provocative little hussies that I suspect all of you consider would benefit from a good smacked bottom. That being the case, in a few cases I have added captions of my own which I’m sure you will appreciate.

And now, having done my duty by you I think I’m now going to slip most of my clothes off and have a quiet lie down, carefully forgetting to lock the bedroom door.

Who knows what will happen next, a gentleman caller who will not be able to resist my come hither look, or some fiend who will tether and imprison me for his filthy diabolical pleasures. You decide!

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