Blasphemy or work of art? The Blessed Ludovica Albertoni monument attracted many theories and arguments since its creation in 1674, but none managed to uncover its true purpose: capturing and ruining the recently beatified holy woman.
Ludovica lay in ecstasy. In her life, that word meant illumination. Awakenings of her mind and soul to a higher power she called God. In the statue, it meant longing for a dick inside her. Pressing a hand against magnificent marble breasts that she could never squeeze. Parting her lips for a slutty moan she could never release. Trapped inside the statue, her spirit felt everything its sculptor intended for her to feel, amplified by how often visitors imagined her finger-fucking herself to orgasm after orgasm in the name of her Lord and Savior.
For over a hundred years, Ludovica knew divinity. She spent her time in the grace of Heaven, partaking in an afterlife well-earned from working miracles that earned her the nickname "mother of the poor." Then a descendant asked for her to be honored by the Pope. Gained a decree. Commissioned a statue - an idol - of her intended for worship.
Just like that, her soul was dragged from Heaven and housed in a vessel made to mock and ruin her under the guise of respect. 'Religious ecstasy', the sculptor claimed. Joyous rapture at God's glory, presented in the closest approximation he could muster with his limited human mind and skills. His excuse paid off, not least of the reasons being that he did it for free. In so doing, they had consigned her to an eternity of horny vexation. Craving semen on her hungry lips. A man's balls rubbed against her pointed nose where she could smell them. Something, anything, to satisfy her carnal wants and needs.
If only the church would chisel some holes in her dress, relax the rules on visitors touching her, give her some release...
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Blasphemy or work of art? The Blessed Ludovica Albertoni monument attracted many theories and arguments since its creation in 1674, but none managed to uncover its true purpose: capturing and ruining the recently beatified holy woman.
Ludovica lay in ecstasy. In her life, that word meant illumination. Awakenings of her mind and soul to a higher power she called God. In the statue, it meant longing for a dick inside her. Pressing a hand against magnificent marble breasts that she could never squeeze. Parting her lips for a slutty moan she could never release. Trapped inside the statue, her spirit felt everything its sculptor intended for her to feel, amplified by how often visitors imagined her finger-fucking herself to orgasm after orgasm in the name of her Lord and Savior.
For over a hundred years, Ludovica knew divinity. She spent her time in the grace of Heaven, partaking in an afterlife well-earned from working miracles that earned her the nickname "mother of the poor." Then a descendant asked for her to be honored by the Pope. Gained a decree. Commissioned a statue - an idol - of her intended for worship.
Just like that, her soul was dragged from Heaven and housed in a vessel made to mock and ruin her under the guise of respect. 'Religious ecstasy', the sculptor claimed. Joyous rapture at God's glory, presented in the closest approximation he could muster with his limited human mind and skills. His excuse paid off, not least of the reasons being that he did it for free. In so doing, they had consigned her to an eternity of horny vexation. Craving semen on her hungry lips. A man's balls rubbed against her pointed nose where she could smell them. Something, anything, to satisfy her carnal wants and needs.
If only the church would chisel some holes in her dress, relax the rules on visitors touching her, give her some release...