Inanna’s Jeweled Nipples

I hope that all of you out there has had a wonderful Samhain and is enjoying the descent of the Goddess.  While I have my own things and traditions that I do every year to celebrate Samhain, usually involving bones, blood, and boners, this year I focused on jewels and jewelry.  I made a beautiful Dark Goddess bracelet for myself out of black pearls, garnets, and hematite, with a scarab at its focal point.  I’ve had the scarab bead since I was in first grade and went to the King Tut exhibit at the Mint Museum in Charlotte, NC.  Then later that day I got to see my first dead body at Discovery Place.  They had a complimentary exhibit about mummification, and they had on display in a glass box a partially unwrapped mummy.  Somehow or another I’ve managed to keep the scarab safe and with me all these years, and until this Samhain I never had the urge to use it.

The Descent Goddess, Inanna, Ishtar, Isis, She who is known by a multitude of names and incarnations, is often depicted with either bared breasts or bejeweled breasts, symbolizing not only sexuality but also her loss self and ego at the gates of the Underworld.  And who doesn’t love pretty titties with glimmering jewels on them?

Making sacred jewelry is a great way to connect with deity.  However, not everybody has time or talent to devote to the practice.  There is nothing wrong with commissioning pieces of sacred jewelry.  Although many “traditional” magic practitioners insist that all magical pieces should be hand made by the user or significantly altered, that is just not always practical or possible.  If you commission a piece, is the intent not the same?

Helaine,  the artist and owner of Subsensual Jewels, is just the person to help you out with a commissioned piece so that your own sacred breasts can be just as glittering as Inanna’s were.  Rather have a glittering vulva or scrotum?  Not a problem.  Helaine has come up with this ingenious design for non-pierced nipple and genital jewelry.  Instead of the loops of metal and elastic that you typically see in non-pierced nipple jewelry, Helaine uses magnets.  Not only do these magnets keep the jewelry in place, but they can also be magically used to attract things to you: love, desire, money, etc. (Beware what you attract!)  Now is the perfect time to put in your custom order for sacred kink jewelry because Subsensuals had such a successful summer of vending that they are sold out of jewelry and Helaine is busy making new pieces to sell.  Want a set of Lapis nipple jewels to celebrate Inanna?  She can make them!  Want a pretty piece of hematite to attach to your genitals to keep you grounded enough to succeed at Tantric sex?  She’s got you covered!  She loves taking custom orders, and the prices for custom pieces are comparable to her already made pieces, but she prefers to use her own materials rather than materials sent in by customers.  This is so that she can ensure that the materials used are safe for contact with a person’s delicate skin (although I hope that one day she’ll make me a pair of Wolfsheim nipple adornments from my wisdom teeth since I never wear blouses that require cuff links).  The sensation of the jewelry itself can be used with a partner or by yourself to draw up energy in a ritual.  Place the jewelry on your body during the invocation of your intent and then as you build up your magical energy, the physical sensations will grow until it’s time for you to release your energy for your magic when you remove the jewelry.  To cleanse your jewelry in between ritual uses, rinse under cold water, dry well with a towel, and recharge your pieces under the light of the moon.

As you can see, your custom sacred kink ritual jewelry is only encumbered by your imagination!  Visit Subsensuals website: http://www.subsensuals.com/ to contact Helaine about a custom piece or visit her and Subsensual Jewels on Facebook, Instagram, or FetLife.

Still not sure?

  • “At first I did not even feel them on. They were very comfortable, in fact I wore them underneath my top at the munch and no one even knew it. Over time the magnets kept drawing closer and the intensity grew stronger. As I passed one hour the pain started to really set in between 60-90 minutes it was very strong. Overall I absolutely Love them!!!!!”
    –Ladywithalens

  • “I just have to take a moment to talk about some of the body jewelry made by Subsensuals….If you are looking for a specific erotic look that is unique to your Submissive you are certainly in the right place. My experience with the nipple jewelry was most erotic, it was both erotic for the submissive and myself. The jewelry allows for that look but also allows the build of sensation as you come into and build with in a scene, whether its prior or during. It allows time for placement and time for the submissive to accept the slow and growing build as the magnets continue to pull in tighter and tighter… A perfect gift for that someone special in your lifestyle.”
    –Lobo

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The Goddess’ Nips

 

“So here’s my question to all you pagans. What does a goddess look like? Does a goddess have porn star tits, of back breaking proportions and gravity defying magic? Or does a goddess look like a real woman?” – ”Goddess Breasts”

“The moral of the research at this stage seem to be, if you want to be in a natural state, you need to be in a natural state. The more artificial your habitat is, the more you will suffer if you don’t protect breasts and feet from the consequences…..The more you can match your shoes to the needs of your breasts, the better this is going to work, though.”–“Bare breasts, bare feet”

“I realise that I have been socialised to consider the unfettered breast a sign of loose sexual morals and availability. The idea that, anyone realising I had no bra would conclude that I am a slut and open to any and all sexual advances, was not a comfortable one. I have yet to go out in public without a bra, and this is a big part of why. I simply do not want the assumptions that could go with it.”

–”The Unfettered Breast” Nimue Brown

from  Druid Life https://druidlife.wordpress.com/2012/

Ms. Meow Meow’s #nobraday pic

“I don’t remember just when it was that I stumbled upon the fact that began to unravel the puzzle, the fact that the permanent human female breast is not a biological necessity, is in fact an anomaly. In every other primate species, the females develop breasts while nursing, then become flatchested again afterward. So here an anthropological concept applies: a human trait that is not dictated by biology has been created or shaped by cultural forces. In other words, the permanent female breast is the result of learned behavior and serves a social purpose. What could that be? Puzzling over that, I was finally jolted by what by hindsight should have been obvious: when a human male observes a human female from a distance, the first fact he can observe about her is whether she has developed breasts. If she has, then she is old enough to have sexual intercourse. The permanent breast is a signal, a communication of information essential for human survival. Evolutionary pressure created it.”

“Why are men so interested in women’s breasts?” By Aiden Kelly

http://www.patheos.com/blogs/aidankelly/2014/02/why-are-men-so-interested-in-womens-breasts/ Nobody online seems to know exactly who started #NoBraDay.  Supposedly it was started to promote breast cancer awareness, but I agree with the critics on this one: it’s not doing much to further the cause.  Having pictures of male and female celebrities getting mammograms plastered all over the place would do more good.  How about #freemammogramday?  I think the people who started #NoBraDay really started it because they wanted to go without undergarments, but they were too afraid to try to launch that campaign on their own, so they attached themselves to the breast cancer awareness cause, just like everyone else in the world.  Breast Cancer Awareness is big business.

I celebrate #NoBraDay because most of the time, especially at home, I don’t wear a bra.  I was raised by crazed dirty hippies, so bras weren’t really a priority unless you were going out into polite society.  Sometimes I do wear a bra or a corset (I have a thing for pretty lingerie), but a lot of the time I just go with nothing–bra or panties.  It’s nice to feel free sometimes.  I see it more as a First Amendment/Free Speech issue.  Society shouldn’t tell you how to dress.  ”And ye shall be free from slavery,” says the “Charge of the Goddess”.  If, as Pagans, we take this to be true, then we are free to wear what undergarments (or not) as we choose.

Dumuzi sang:
         “O Lady, your breast is your field.
Inanna, your breast is your field.
Your broad field pours out the plants.
Your broad field pours out grain.
Water flows from on high for your servant.
Bread flows from on high for your servant.
Pour it out for me, Inanna.
I will drink all you offer.”

The Courtship of Inanna and  Dumuzi  http://jewishchristianlit.com/Texts/ANEmrg/Inanna&Dumuzi.html

The Goddess (whatever name you call her) has breasts and nipples.  Some gods have heavy swinging breasts too.  Female and male humans both have breasts and nipples.  Those are simple statements.  But in Western society, as Pagans in Western society, we have become afraid of female breasts and nipples.  This stems from a deep-rooted patriarchy that is inherently afraid of anything that may elicit a sexual response.  Humans can’t control what causes sexual arousal in themselves, and this lack of control can be scary and is some times embarrassing.  So, we do our best to cover those things up.  However, I, like many people, can get aroused at seeing a man without his shirt on.  This man can walk around legally without his shirt on, but I, as a woman, cannot.  Double standard.

The Goddess, in her many infinite forms, is often depicted with either youthful pert breasts, ripe for the suckling, or large pendulous breasts, ready to smack you in the face.  Conversely, the God, in his many infinite forms, is often depicted with a magnificent bare chest.

These representations of Deity are as it should be.  However, “The Charge of the Goddess” also says, “as a sign that ye be really free, ye shall be naked in your rites.”  A lot of Pagan groups take this and run with it, holding skyclad rituals that make many families cringe.  This is unfortunate.  While no one should be made to feel uncomfortable in ritual,  and all parents have the right to raise their children as they see fit, always holding clothed rituals does seem to go against the grain of the one piece of liturgy that most Wiccan groups revere some version of.  Some of these groups, though, have edited out the part about holding naked rites, perhaps in an effort to seem legitimate among the sea of naked worshipers.  Holding topless rites is a perfect compromise.  While many parents, understandably, are not comfortable with full nudity around their children (and the law in most areas is firmly against it for obvious reasons), some parents, surprisingly, would probably be comfortable with a top-optional ritual, especially if the laws in their area supported topless women.  Despite the religious sexual overtones that imbue Wicca, most groups enact Hieros Gamos via a chalice and an athame.  Therefore, the topless men and women are not partially dressed to purposely invoke sexual feelings within the group.  That’s one of the caveats that is attached to many pro-topless laws.

As the year progresses towards Yule, I’ll be interviewing Pagan leaders and state legislators in my state of North Carolina about their views on women going topless, North Carolina’s topless laws, and the possibility and implications of top-optional rituals.

I enjoy feeling the sunshine on my naked skin and the wind whispering my skin to goosebumps.  There’s nothing like lounging by the water in summer with nothing on.  If you’ve not experienced outdoor nudity yet, please do so, at least once, during the next year.  Once you experience it, you’ll never want to frolic outdoors fully clothed again.

Listen to my podcast episode where I discuss legal toplessness for women while topless!  http://bit.ly/1GexPG1

 

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Kink Magick Tools by Dark Lightning

 I have to say, I am so excited about this post.  Dark Lightning is a wonderful Top and kinky ritual tool maker that lives in California.  I got so incredibly wet when I was adding his pictures to this post.  My clit and nips are still hard!  All the tools in this post were made by Dark Lightning, except for the spoon. The spoon was made by one of our lovely sponsors, Mystic Artisans. You can find Dark Lightning on FetLife at https://fetlife.com/users/181558.  Not on Fetlife, but you’d like to send Dark Lightning an email or ask him questions?  You can contact him at Dark.Lighning13@ymail.com

Have you ever wanted to lift your BDSM play toys into magical and ritualistic tools, but were unsure where to start?

Intention can change a common toy into a powerful tool.

What I refer to here is about raising BDSM play into the ritual magic realm. Transmuting pain into an energy source and seeing your sub as a magical partner in ritual will take your BDSM play to new heights. No sense wasting good energy.

It begins with converting toys into ritual tools. This can be anything from a sophisticated electrotism sex toy, leather floggers, canes or something as simple as clothes pins, needles or scented oil. The difference is the intent and whether the toy has been consecrated for magical work. But of all the tools/toys in Kink Magick, the most precious and valuable is what BDSM play calls the submissive or slave. In my own practice, I found the word submissive did not have the meaning I felt it should. A partner relationship is far more powerful and magical than master/slave. And so I choose to use the word famulus instead. This a Latin term referring to a magician or sorcerer’s assistant.

With my sub now lifted to a sorcerer’s assistant, the play becomes a sacro-magical ritual, so complete and intimate that it is like music from a master saxophonist, where the instrument, player and music become one and the same quintessential being. Magically speaking, they are now a canvas for sigils and ritual markings, a tool for receiving and releasing energy and, most critically, an active living partner in the work. The sub becomes more than an object to receive pain, lifted from something done, to a partner in which magic is being done WITH, which ignites the enchantment.

You may already have many toys which could become magical tools, or perhaps you would like to create one from scratch or get a new one specifically for Kink Magick. For example, The Barbed Pentacle had a contest sometime back on decorating a simple wooden spoon and creating a beautiful BDSM play toy.

So why not take this a step further, and follow a similar creative process with the intent of not just making a play toy, but creating and consecrating it as a personal Kink Magick Tool. This can be done with any BDSM toy, (premade or personally created), transforming it from a mundane object into a magical instrument, strategic for deep magical workings.

So let’s walk through some steps.

Begin by deciding what purpose your tool will serve: Is it to be the bringer of the element fire, or perhaps a channel and guide for another energy you would like to generate? This is for you to choose.

You can get creative modifying an existing toy or start from scratch and make it completely yourself. This will require either raw materials or a ready-made gizmo or contrivance that can be shaped to your desire. You can look at local or online adult toy stores for something ready to go or, like the spoon transformed in the Barbed Pentacle contest, many things can be found in hardware stores, kitchen sections of department stores and of course discount and thrift shops.

For the creative mind, many common, mundane items will be seen as implements for twisted pleasures and magical energy workings. Once you find one that sings with potential, you can begin the process of morphing and consecrating it for your ritual use. It is up to your own creative interests and skills as to how you accomplish this. Perhaps in a later article I will go into a detailed how-to.

Next, create your pre-tool once you have the materials and time you need for tool creation. You noticed I used the term pre-tool because until the final step, it is not yet a Kink Magick tool. So create away.

After you put the final touches on it, you can consecrate your soon-to-be tool for its magical work. This can be via an elaborate dedication ritual or a simple statement as you place it aside for ritual use. At this point, it is a Kink Magick tool for ritual use only. This is an important step, since as you use the tool in ritual, it will become charged with the energy of the intent. For example, you wouldn’t use a tool consecrated for air if you are invoking water energy. These private ritual tools would not be something you would take to a local dungeon for causal play.

Next, it is good practice to plan and implement your first ritual use. Developing a personal connection with the new tool in advance is recommended. Feeling what it was created to do and how it is to be used solidifies the link. You can use the senses to increase the intimacy. You can meditate for connection. Feel free to use whatever process works best for you. The tool is personal and yours to empower and energize as you choose.

Now your tool is ready for ritual workings. Rituals can have many different types of intentions: otherworld Journeys, charging sigils or talismans, manifesting wants, needs or desires, rites of passage, mystical guidance and more. Kink Magick can also be used for developing more awareness and consciousness; for living a more liberated dance in the world rather than trudging through it. One of the things that will quickly snuff the life out of a magical working and the moment is losing one’s conscious presence and awareness during a ritual, so increasing these attributes for BDSM use is wise. Being aware of energy is also important for successful work. It is not like driving a car with your autopilot on while your mind and thoughts wander into who knows where. It is about focus, discipline and intent. These can be gifts for growth. Ritual experiences can offer unintended teachings and learnings. Yes, the Universe will even use BDSM to teach the top.

Basic skills and techniques in Kink Magick and the use of tools can be taught in workshops, but these are only pointers, opinions and starting points if you wish to really learn the craft. The real expertise and mastery comes from personal experience, both success and failures. Like anything we learn and do there, should be a constant effort to experiment, assess and seek triumph.

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Prosperity through Sacred Whoring

Finances and sex have always gone together.  The world’s oldest occupation?  The Lords and Ladies of Finances and Prospertity greatly enjoy sex.  Think Wall St. of the 1980′s.  And they want sex through YOU, not you through your partner.  And not just you with your hands.  They want you through an insertable.  This is because there are deities of finance and prosperity that identify with a variety of sexual orientations, and they want you to share in those sensations to facilitate worship and connection.  They want you to be their sacred whore.

One of the horniest of the Deities of Wall Street is Lord Ganesha. 

I first came into sexual contact with him a few months back when I had enjoyed some Indica that Ganesha would approve of.  I had just gotten the Nirvana 3-way, 3-speed vibrator,    and decided to try it out. (Hear me use it: http://bit.ly/1hmnZXk)  It was wonderful!  Ganesha stampeded through me and gored me at full force.   All the kinky little kid feelings that I had had growing up and seeing Dumbo’s mother spanking a spoiled kid with her trunk came flooding back, and hard moral thoughts of deity-driven bestiality poked me incessantly at three different speeds with KY hot sauce and some cunt intensifier cream.    I was in that awesome “Wah-wah” universe that pulses with color and atmospheric sensations, like a mental water bed.    He came to me hot and heavy, in the same aqua blue color as my vibrator.  He fucked my cunt with his trunk first, ramming and tickling.  Then my Lord turned his head so that his trunk was still inside of me, but now one tusk was pressed against my clit and the other one was sliding in and out of my ass.   Did you know that an elephant’s trunk can move both side to side and back and forth at the same time?  It is absolutely orgasmic, with Lord Ganesha’s hands squeezing and grabbing, caressing and smacking, pinching and tickling.  Lord Ganesha says that all the Prosperity deities have agreed that in sexual worship of them that all the orifices should be busy praising and worshiping them.  The first set of lips to call their praises, the second and third set of lips to quiver in response.  If this causes you shame because that type of stimulation is new and frightening, then know that they see that shame as humility, since all prosperity petitioners, especially the most successful and confident, should remember that the blessings come at the grace and leisure of the Lords and Ladies in charge, not just by luck, birthright, or work.

Lord Ganesha removes and insures obstacles.  Hermes  Agoraios  sets up the market place in your favor. Lady Luck and Lord Gamble make sure that the Fates have been bribed.  Frau Perchta makes sure that you’re going to work hard enough to deserve this prosperity or she’ll slit your belly and make you shit for days.  Athena makes sure that your industriousness and knowledge of industry standards are up to date.  Lord and Lady Gold, Silver, Platinum, all the Commodities, Dollar, Euro, Pound, Peso, and Yin makes sure that your currency is multiplied and not depleted. St. Expeditus helps things to happen in a timely fashion.  Lord Pluto, of course, bankrolls it all.  And don’t forget your personal posse that works as your personal mob soldiers.

Like all mobsters, all these deities really care about is money, sex, and success.  You be their whore, they’re bankroll your project; you give them the loot, and they give you back a percent.  They expect respect, obedience, and good-will sacrifices as good public relations strategy.

Thursday Financial/Business Prosperity Ritual

Relax with an intoxicant of your choice.  If you can’t drink like a Russian (metaphorically or literally) then you have no business sitting at the table. Select some prosperity incense or herbs to burn in a heat-proof chamber pot, piss pot, or slop jar.  This is because you always want to have at least a pot to use as a toilet. Then recline on your spread out Hell money that you will offer later as an offering. As you become very relaxed, select one or more sex toys that will penetrate the orifice(s) that are below your belly button.  If you have a penis, a pocket pussy is appreciated as well.  Relax and think about the Deities of Financial and Business Prosperity as you begin to masturbate for their enjoyment and pleasure.  If some of it is a little painful at first, remember, some lovers are rough.  Fill your mouth with a large lollipop (any flavor) that you have previously run under water until sticky and then rolled in unground salt.  These
Deities love sweet and salty treats and want your mouth to be filled with the dueling but complementary tastes.  Call out to them, envision what you Need and what you would like. Remember to show Them how you will randomly sacrifice to them for the benefit of mankind by showing them charities and alms that you will support and giveaway.  Chant their names until one deity appears behind your eyes and takes over the show.  Then increase your chanting of your needs and wants to the rhythm of your coming orgasm.  The closer to coming that you are, the more plaintive your pleading cries should be.  It’s not unusual for multiple deities to come to you during this ritual.  Prepare to be a train whore.  When you can no longer orgasm and your lollipop is gone, drink some water and eat a sweet and salty treat while you burn Hell money or fake play money in your piss pot.  If things are urgent or desperate, then you should burn a small amount of legal tender to show why your request should be put before the requests of others.   Later, when you’re out and about, make sure to leave a salty and a sweet treat at an ATM machine or bank for somebody who is down on their luck.  When the deities deal with your case, make sure to thank them and to fulfill your charity and alms promises as quickly as possible.  They appreciate weekly, preferably Thursday, worship and protection payments.  Kiss the ring, bitch!

Today’s ritual wasn’t quite as intense as the first time, but it was still beyond satisfying.  I used my Ganesha vibrator, introduced new anal beads (I slipped the retrieval loop over the clitoral stimulation vibe to vibrate the beads), and then ended by using a new anal plug with the main part of the vibrator nestled behind it and my perineum.  Lord Ganesha enjoyed me first and then Athena took her turn.  She enjoyed my anal stimulation like she a had penis of her own.  Perhaps she does.



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Luscious Litha

For the Yule half of this story: http://barbedpentacle.com/2013/12/ancient-dance/

For more on the Ivy Girl: http://barbedpentacle.com/2012/06/the-holly-boy-tied-up-the-ivy-girl-or-maybe-its-the-other-way-around-happy-litha/

 She looked at herself in the reflection of the bathing pool. She was filthy, thin, and her hair beraggled. Two days ago she had found a sparrow trying to make a nest in her hair; it was so horrible. She scrunched her eyes tightly to hide her tears as her Tendrils tried to gently tease out the knots. They were good girls, she knew, and they always tried to be gentle, but she was very tender-headed, and no matter how hard they tried, she always cried when they brushed her hair. Every day before the Oak King sent her into the fields, the Tendrils would braid her hair into simple peasant plaits and cover it with a poofy linen cap that her sunhat fit over, but every evening when she took the cap off, her hair would be unplaited and full of knots, tangles, and brush—and sometimes critters. Every Oak season was the same, and she never understood how it happened. It was just part of the magic of the cycle.

She let her mind drift to the coming opulence of the Holly King, that is if things worked the way they always did. Although without fail the brothers met twice a year to kill each other, the Ivy Queen always worried that this may be the year when things didn’t go as they were ordained, that her Holly King wouldn’t come back and that she would be stuck in an endless summer of hard work forever. She was tired of sweating. She shouldn’t work in the fields like a peasant. She was a Queen! She shouldn’t be tanned like the Oak King.

Her skin should be white to better show the lusciousness of her cool ivy leaves. She missed her castle where she could cavort and frolic with her Tendrils without the interference of the ever present Oak. His low growl of “Back to work” never left her ears, nor the exciting chill of dread that sprouted in her heart when he would touch the buckle of his belt or when he would glance between her and the whip hanging from the wall. The Tendrils washed her with whisper light touches over her thin, hard body. They drew the rag up between her small breasts and over her protruding collarbone. The Queen longed for her curves that had to be contained in an endless line of beautiful corsets. All in due time, she thought, all in very short due time.

She thought back to the Oak King touching his belt buckle and shivered.

Catch the irony?

He rarely punished her in that matter. The Tendrils started washing her thighs, and she opened them wider. One of her girls started to gently rub the tiny nub that always brought her so much pleasure. Instead of beatings, the Oak King was fond of the saying, “No work, no food.” He used hunger to motivate the people to do his bidding. Everybody worked hard, but he worked people so hard that their caloric earnings couldn’t keep up with their caloric spending. “Mmmmm”, she sighed as the Tendril rubbed a little faster and harder.

Everything wasn’t horrible with the Oak King. He did enjoy his pleasures, although they were of the more rustic variety. And she enjoyed sharing his pleasures, when he allowed. Often though, he would take a Tendril out with him into the wild wood, and either make her experience his touches vicariously through her girl’s retelling or be made to watch while she was imprisoned in a hollow oak tree.

She hated the tree most of all, since the hollow was only barely big enough for her to stand in and her arms were pinned to her side, not allowing her to masturbate in any way. There were times, however, when he touched her and melted her natural resistance to his authority. Once, during a terrible spring storm, the Oak King had spirited her away into the wind and lighting, pushing her back against a broad strong oak tree, pinning her hands above her head, and fucking her roughly while the rain and hail pelted them, leaving bruises on her slowly tanning skin. The Queen knew that she still had the scars where the tree’s bark had torn into her back, leaving the Oak King’s mark upon her skin.

At Beltane, when all the young men came to treat a Tendril for the night, the Oak King, just like a young swain, built her a cool, soft leafy bower for their sacred coupling. As gently as a nervous groom, he shyly took her with his perfect priapic wand, taking almost all night for her being to burst into a frenzy of fireflies and stars.

That was her sweetest memory of him. She fancied that that night was the sweet meat beneath his hard shell, but she was allowed to taste it so rarely, she wasn’t entirely convinced. “Ohhhhh,” she gasped, remembering his rod moving back and forth slowly inside of her,his rough tip rubbing her most sensitive spots. One of the Tendrils slipped a small wet fist into the Queen’s vagina and started to flex her hand.

Then, most recently, there had been their coupling in the field of partially ripe wheat. He had ordered her Tendrils to strip her of the simple brown shift that she was allowed to wear during the Oak King’s reign. Then he had blindfolded her and led her forward with a strong hand around her wrist. As she stumbled behind him, her skin was burned by the unrelenting sun, her nostrils were assaulted by the smells of grain, grass, and humid earth, and her ears rang with the drone of millions of insects. The wheat, about waist high, had switched and cut her thighs, leaving hundreds of little scratches. It had even tickled further up, sometimes even dipping between her nether lips. By the time the Oak King brought her to a halt in the middle of the field and removed her blindfold, her pussy was dripping, further irritating the tender flesh of her thighs, and she was covered in a heavy sheen of sweat. Through the memory the Queen was aware that her Tendril’s hand was moving even faster. She moaned louder with pleasure, knowing that she was close to coming.

The Oak King had invited her to lay down amongst the wheat, the dust and dirt of the field turning to mud against her sweaty skin. He took a length of wheat and teased her abused thighs with it, tickling her, working his way over her sunken tummy and breasts. He tickled and rubbed her nipples with the wheat kernels until they started to bleed. Then he took the wheat head and caressed further back from her vagina, moving her wetness back to lubricate her ass.

With out much thought she had lifted her hips and opened up as much as possible to him on her own. He teased her tight hole with the acorn head of his penis, being more patient than was his wont, slowly rubbing her in tight circles, coaching her body to slowly open up and swallow him. His entrance had made her stiffen and cry out in pain, but his slow persistence soon convinced her body to relax. The Ivy Queen remembered that she had lost herself in the blinding blue of the sky until it all started to feel good. The Oak King had been very attentive to her that day. He took his time and went as slow as she needed him to go, only starting to pump her dirt coated ass harder when she pulled him fully on top of her, wrapping her legs around him to pull him tighter. She remembered how the wheat tickling her soles had pushed her over the edge.

“Oh!” the Queen gasped and clamped down on the attending Tendril’s hand. Ivy Queen started to giggle, allowing herself to climax. The harder she came the louder she laughed. Then a loud knock on the door shattered the moment.

Her summons had arrived. The Oak King was ready for her, for what may be their final mating of the season. The old fear returned. What if this time, the Oak King prevailed for another six months? What then? She didn’t think she could bear any more of the Oak King’s austerity. Besides, she longed for her own castle. The Holly King allowed to her to come and go as she pleased with her Tendrils. The Oak King never let her go beyond the fields unless he was with her. The Holly King always invited her to share his plush bed. The Oak King insisted that she maintain a pallet on the floor in a dark corner of his chamber. The Holly King was robust and dark yet endlessly mirthful. The Oak King shone like the sun, tall and sturdy like his tree, but he rarely laughed, and then usually at her expense.

The Tendrils smoothed her wet hair down her delicate back. They had dressed her in a simple green tunic that swept the floor and opened fully down the front. As she followed the King’s servant to his chamber, the Oak Knights caught sight of her apple tits and ripe peach. The Queen was conscious of their stares, and despite her blush, she held her head high and glided on. The Oak King was standing before a wide window, gazing out into the courtyard bathed in the late morning sunshine. It was already hot. The spring breezes had ceased several weeks ago, and now it was swealtering. The King stood with his back to her, straight and tall. She always wondered what the brothers thought about in the final hour before the fight. Neither one ever appeared to be nervous or even the least bit concerned. She was the only one who ever seemed nervous. Each brother bore his fate with an unfathomable faith that the cycle would be never ending, that nothing would go wrong.

The Ivy Queen took a deep breath and shrugged her robe off, leaving it a green puddle on the floor. The Oak King turned at the soft thud of the fabric. A greedy, slightly malicious smile twitched on his lips. He took her ALL in fully. It wasn’t often that he saw her freshly scrubbed. He kept her too busy at her chores. She was finally the way he liked her best. She was whispy, yet the delicate muscles that rippled under her bronze skin belied the physical strength she had slowly built up during the growing season. Her hair hung down straight and brown, with blond and red highlights bleached in from working in the sun. Her attitude was tempered too. At the beginning of winter she was always full of disrespectful quips and constantly challenged every order and request. But by the beginning of summer, the Ivy Queen’s attitude was as pliable and agreeable as an ivy vine. Every year he was tempted to keep her naked once the weather grew warmer so that he could see the changes in her body more easily, but he had yet to command it. Perhaps this spring….

“Please lay on the bed, my Lord, and allow me to pleasure you one last time.” The Ivy Queen requested quietly meeting her lord’s gaze. He cocked his head at her, wondering where this was going to lead. It wasn’t like her to be willing to give pleasure. The Ivy Queen was a very selfish lover and felt that people giving HER pleasure was a tribute always due her. She met his gaze full on and pointed at the bed. “Please, my lord.”

As requested, he laid down, stretching his full length out. The moment he had sense her in his room, he had become aroused. This was the epitome of everything they had worked on for his half of the cycle. He felt confidant that he could turn the world over to his brother for six months and that due to his hard work and staying after the populace to also work hard, that civilization would still be here at mid-winter when it was time to for him to take control again. The Ivy Queen pounced on him, untying his trousers and releasing his semi-erect penis.

She bent her head and finally started to show him the respect that he felt he deserved. At first she lapped at his bobbing member like a kitten, paying special attention to the vein underneath. Each lap made him harder and harder. Then she opened her rose petal lips wide and pulled his cock into her mouth with a suction that took his breath away. She had never deigned to pleasure him in this manner. Her skill shocked him. It felt as if his penis were encased in vines, each one hugging and releasing at a different pace. He got lost in the sensation and felt that he was close, very close to spilling forth in her mouth when he felt something cold and sharp against his throat.

The Oak King’s body became still and rigid. The Queen slipped him out of her mouth and gave him a wicked smile. She pushed the small knife into his neck a little more, and a small bright stream of blood started to trickle down his neck. The moment was suspended in time and space, the Fates spinning and weaving furiously to get the cycle back on track. Finally, the spell was broken, the proper weft repaired in the fabric of time. “You seem surprised, my Lord. You shouldn’t be. Every year I’m always worried that something won’t go right, that the One I look forward to best won’t come back.” She slowly drew the grafting knife along his neck, leaving a thin but shallow line of crimson.

The thought of the Ivy Queen, that insolent and ungrateful bitch, plotting to slay him in his own bed jolted him out of his shock at the turn of events. He wrapped his long, strong legs around her tiny body and flipped the Queen in a wrestling move. She screamed and stabbed his shoulder, leaving the knife in his flesh. He had her pinned to the bed spread eagle, keeping her in place with his bleeding body. He roared, “How dare you! How dare you! After every thing I’ve provided for you? How dare you try to interfere? And favorites? How dare you even think to choose! My brother and I are different but equal. We are both necessary to the cycle. And you, dearest bitch, are the fulcrum that keeps it all balanced. You worry about things not turning out the way they should each turn of the wheel? If they don’t turn out correctly, you and your choosing favorites will be to blame! Nothing that I’ve done!” His eyes burned into her as hotly as the noon sun did outside the window. The look truly scared the Queen. The King turned his head from her and bellowed, “Bring the brambles and the nuts!” Within an instance the room was filled with several Oak soldiers, one carrying a sack full of something and the other ones bearing yards and yards of thorny brambles.

“What, what are you going to do?” she whispered, swallowing hard. This was not going well at all.

“Hold her.” The King commanded the soldier holding the bag. He did as commanded, replacing the Oak’s body with his own. The Ivy Queen closed her eyes. The fact that a commoner was on top of her at the King’s bidding was too much for her to bear. She could feel the King’s strong, hard hands grabbing her wrists and pulling them over her head. Around each one he tightly wrapped the bramble vines, their barbed thorns grabbing and biting into her flesh. She felt something cold and sticky being laid on her throat. The Queen realized that it was the knife she had left in Oak’s shoulder. She tossed her head until it slide off of her.

“Quit!” The Oak King growled. “You will be still and take what’s coming to you. And you’ll figure out a way in your twisted, viney brain to enjoy it so that the balance is restored. No more favorites!” As commanded she stopped. He pulled first one and then the other ankle tight with the bramble vines, spreading her as wide as her limbs would allow. The soldier climbed off of her and gave her a pitying look as he and the others left the room.

The Oak King was still hard. In fact he was harder now after their tussle than he had been when he was at the point of climaxing a few minutes earlier. He stripped off his clothes and straddled the Queen’s neck, smacking her enchanted face with the one and powerful Priapic wand. She started to sob. She was so tired, so afraid, so sure that this was going to finally be the end, so turned on that this was finally going to be the end. Finally something different was going to happen in the cycle. Her tears pushed the King back to almost climaxing. With firm, sure strokes he rubbed his rod and exploded all of the Queen’s face. She gasped in shock and embarrassment. Her eyes streamed more tears as the semen burned her eyes. Without meaning to she inhaled it up her nose started sputtering and sneezing in an effort to breathe.

The Oak King waited for the Queen to compose herself. He knelt between her legs and picked up the bag and poured acorns all over her. She shuddered, not sure she could bear where this may be headed. The King smiled at her glistening sex. At least her body made an effort to obey him even if her heart didn’t. Slowly and methodically he dipped an acorn into her juices and then pushed it past the tightly crimped petals of her hidden rosebud with a pop.

“Oh!” the Queen exclaimed. She struggled to scoot away from the King and his wicked acorns, but the brambles only dug deeper into her skin. Finally she gave up and lay still while the King inserted one after another, each time dipping and rolling it in her cunt first. Each inserted acorn made her whimper. Every time she breathed she could feel them moving within her. At first it felt horrible and embarrassing, but now with each acorn and breath she felt more and more aroused. She could feel her juices dripping down from her spread lips and into the crack of her ass. She heard her king chuckle. Her king, had passed almost unnoticed through her brain, but the uncomfortableness of her bonds caught it just in time to register in her mind.

When he felt that the Queen was full enough behind, he started stuffing her pussy, popping the acorns in two at a time. His time was running out, with the sun almost directly over head, and he wanted to make sure that the Ivy Queen was full of his seed for when his brother tried to mate with her later today. She lifted her hips as much as her prickly bonds would allow. “Please,” she pleaded in a husky voice and pushed her pelvis toward him.

He chuckled again, but didn’t give her the pleasure of a verbal response. He just kept popping the acorns into her. She writhed with the uncomfortable pleasure of it all, ignoring the barbs tearing her skin. There was a heavy knock on the door. The King didn’t answer it, nor did the person on the other side open the door enter. The King knew what the knock meant.

“Well, my dear Ivy cunt, it seems that our time for this cycle has come to an end. My brother has arrived. I trust that if things go as they must, that you’ll receive me warmly into your body come Yule. I’ll be most curious to see if anything has sprouted or if you were able to get all my seeds out.” She stuck her tongue out at him and was going to respond when a new pain silenced her. The Oak King cut her ankle bonds from the bed, but now he was winding new brambles around her ankles, binding them tightly together. He wrapped even more up around her legs and thighs, making sure that they were lashed tightly together. She groaned at the new pressure created in her very full body. Using the same knife that she stabbed him with, the King cut her wrists from the bed and pulled her up into a sitting position. The sound that came from the Queen’s lips was unlike anything the Oak King had ever heard. It was a mix of scream, groan, ecstatic moan, and a growl. The sensation of sitting up with so much inside of her was overwhelming. She came hard repeatedly, her head filling with bright lights and fire. Her body tried to dislodge the acorns, but they were held firmly in place by her tightly closed legs. She shook uncontrollably for a moment and her eyes rolled into the back of her head.

When the Ivy Queen regained consciousness, she nearly lost it again from fear. Her eyes fluttered open to see the Oak King striding out of the castle to meet his brother the Holly King, who was just as handsome as ever. She wanted to call out to both of them, but she was unable to. The knife that started her whole late morning ordeal had been wrapped in ivy vines and crammed into her mouth and tied to her tightly. She tried to calm herself. When she had fainted, the Oak King had continued trussing her, binding her arms tightly to her sides with the brambles, bringing the jagged tooth vines up and around her breasts, over her shoulders, and then back under her arms in a harness. Then he had proceeded to hang the Ivy Queen out of the bedroom window. Each wiggle injected her nerves full of pain and pleasure. She was afraid that if she moved much that the brambles would snap, letting her fall to the cobblestone court yard below.

She saw the Holly King gesture up to her, but she couldn’t hear his question to his brother. The Oak King’s answer was out of earshot, and he pointed to the shoulder that she had stabbed and the cuts on his neck, both of which had magically stopped bleeding. The Holly King then turned fully in her direction and gave her a look that both scared and excited her. She knew from his look that the Holly King fully intended to continue the Oak King’s punishment of her even after he had dispatched his brother. Then both kings raised their swords in a salute to each other and the fighting commenced. The clashing of the swords sounded more terrible to the Ivy Queen than it had at previous fights.

Both men, to her, seemed to fight harder too. Unlike in previous years, she now could find no enmity in her heart toward the Oak King. He was right. It was unnatural for her to show favoritism. The fighting this time went on longer than usual, both men sustaining deep wounds that would have killed mortal men. Fate finally interceded, and the wind picked up. Dust flew through the summer air. The Holly King kept his head down to avoid getting dirt in his eyes, but the Oak King worried that his bramble harness may not hold in the wind. He looked up to the Queen, and at that moment, his eyes were filled with dust. He never saw his brother’s fatal thrust. His dark blood spilled over the cobblestones, making mud out of the dirt packed between the pavers. Deep, horrible sobs wracked the Queen, making her suspension a terrible torment. Her sobs choked in her throat, caught behind the knife gag. Just like always, the slain king’s body slowly started to disintegrate and disappear.

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A Sweet Great Rite: A Pagan Service Announcement

Hot, fresh Krispy Kreme doughnuts straight off the conveyor belt are one of my favorite things.

In fact, they cause the same physical, mental, and psychological responses in my body that I experience during an extremely intense orgasm.  My brain floods with endorphins,  my eyes roll to the back of my head, my doughnut spasms, and I spill over with my very own sugar glaze.

If you don’t believe me, ask the Krispy Kreme workers.  There are hundreds of them running around the Southeastern US that have seen my cute O face and heard my sighs of pleasure.  And it has to be Krispy Kreme.  Those Yankee carpetbagging cake doughnuts from Dunkin’ Doughnuts do absolutely nothing for me except to make me want to start humming “Dixie”.

 

Today, June 5th, is National Doughnut Day.  It’s nothing but a ploy by the pastry industry to make you fat and penniless.  However, here at  ”The Barbed Pentacle”, we are going to start a new tradition:  The Sweet Great Rite!  The Sweet Great Rite should be celebrated whenever you feel hungry and frisky, not just on June 5th!  Why the Sweet Great Rite?  Well, let’s be honest.  A doughnut is nothing but an edible facsimile of a vagina, just like a taco.  It has a hole, it’s sweet and yielding, and you just stick your tongue through the hole and start gobbling.

If it’s a hole-less doughnut, then it must be a virgin.  Take care not to hurt it too much as you pop that hymen and suck the sweet creamy goodness out!  Just only have doughnut holes?  Then you suck.  You got the sloppy seconds.  Plus, doughnuts come in a box that seems absolutely endless until there’s nothing left and you’ve hit the cervix.

What about things like eclairs and those long twisty pastry things?  They’re pastry penises that love penetrating lusciously sweet doughnuts all morning long.  They can plow through a dozen at a time.

Now, if the female twat doesn’t arouse you, doughnuts can also be male twats, also known as assholes.

I’m pretty sure, based on my different drug-induced hallucinations, that eating a fresh Krispy Kreme doughnut is just like eating out the Goddess.

It’s hot and steamy, the pastry yielding gently and willingly to my tongue and teeth, sweet glaze dripping everywhere in obscene pleasure…….

The Sweet Great Rite can be celebrated in several different ways.  The most fun way is to take your fried yeast doughnut and lay it on your partner’s orifice.  Then start the fucking, with whatever you normally use.  If you’re not equipped with a penis or a dildo, get a pastry penis!  Then just eat and fuck your way to a sweet and sticky orgasm.  Remember, if you’re truly doing the Great Rite, you need to open yourself up to the energies of the Lord and Lady, in whatever aspect you worship them in.  Otherwise it’s just food sex, which is fun too.  If you’re by yourself, well I’m sure you can get creative.

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Is that a crystal in your pocket, or are you just glad to see me?

I’ve been consuming a fair amount of tea lately, and while I was consuming this herbal tea I read the book Crystals for Beginners by Corrine Kenner.  I LOVE gemstones and I love hunting for gemstones, but despite my past attempts, I never really got the whole “love your crystal like its a pet” kind of mentality that a lot of Pagans have.  Yeah, I have some gemstones on my altar, but I’m not even really sure why they’re there.  Occasionally in the past I’ve used gemstones in magical or energy work, but there was never any kind of communication with these gemstones.  Well, that has changed.  Corrine Kenner’s book is not a magical field guide to gemstones and minerals as so many crystal books are; this book is a great user’s manual for crystals of all kinds.  All the activities that had been proposed in past crystal books that made no sense or seemed stupid all now make sense.  And I discovered something else, crystals can be extremely sexy.

Forget the magical correspondences of gemstones that can be incorporated into sexual play for a moment.  Just the energy that crystals transmit alone is reason enough to integrate them into sexual practices.  They can give things a jolt, particularly if you do electro-play.  Crystals can be charged up with a person’s desires and intent.  When these charged crystals are inserted into the body, then that energy will transfer to that person.

If you have not explored using crystals and gemstones in sex, now is the time.  There are several manufacturers of carved gemstone penises and dildos, but some of them are quite cost prohibitive.  Instead, you can use a large crystal.  Crystals are ideal for insertion play since there are such a wide variety of shapes and structural types.  Crystals can be heated in the sun or chilled in the freezer for heightened sensation.

Not only can crystals be inserted into orifices, they can be laid in cracks and crevices, and clumps of crystals can be used as tactile stimulants.  You can slip one into your panties for all day gentle stimulation.  I think I’m going to sew little holster on the inside crotch of all my panties so I can slip my little crystal in there for rubbing on the go!

Pele, a mother of igneous gemstones.

Gemstone beads can be made into anal beads.  I looked on the Internet for some already on the market gemstone anal beads, and I didn’t really see any worth purchasing or promoting, so I’m going to make my own.  I’ll keep you posted!

Another way to get a crystal’s energy into you is via a gem elixir enema.  Gem elixirs are made by leaving a crystal in a cup of water out side over night in the moonlight or in the sunshine for a few hours.  Heating the gem elixir in the sun would be a nice way to heat the water for a warm water enema.

One word of caution: crystals can have sharp points and edges that may damage skin and tissues.  If you think this may be the case with your crystal, slip it into a condom before use.

 

Crystals’ powers and magics can be transferred to a person in sadomasochistic ways other than insertion.  They can be transferred via flagellation.  A gem flogger can be made by gathering together 2 to 3 foot bunch of lengths of heavy twine, plastic lacing or thin leather cords.  The traditional number of cords is nine, but it can have as many or as few tails as you want.  If you wanted to be fancy, you could use number magic in determining the number of tails.

Gather up one end of the tails into a clump and rubber band them together.  You can wrap this in duck tape for a crude handle, or you can research online how to make a finished handle.  On the other end of your flogger, slip one or several gemstone beads onto the end of each tail.  Then knot the end to keep the bead on.  A prayer or wish can be said when you tie each knot for a little  knot magic.  Be careful when you play with this flogger.  It’s very easy to cause damage with thin tailed floggers and with floggers with things on the ends of the tails.  So, use a very light hand, especially at first.  If you doubt your abilities to wield your new flogger in a safe way, then practice on a pillow.  

I highly recommend Crystals for Beginners.  It’s a great companion to Scott Cunningham’s book on crystals.  It is more of a New Age book instead of a Pagan book, which makes it very accessible to people of all different religions.  There are foot notes and a bibliography, which makes me extremely happy.  Plus, it’s easy to read and navigate.  Here’s the Amazon link:  http://tinyurl.com/oh6r7pk  Thanks Miss Meow Meow for passing the book along to me!  I’ve enjoyed it during my tea time.

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Fume Rite 2: Light My Dynamite with Your Cigar, Baby!

I like the way cigars smell (although I love the way pipes smell more).  And I’ve had Cuban cigars and they’re nothing special (except illegal to bring through customs, or were, or maybe still are).  But what really gets me excited is Clint Eastwood lighting a stick of dynamite with a lit cigar.  I so very much want to do that and blow something up.  And while he’s not such a looker at the present moment, back in the day, Clint Eastwood was something very special.  He was so special that he was on a show called Rawhide, which while the show had absolutely nothing to do with S&M, the title had so much potential.

Plus, there was that movie with the cigar smoking nun that Eastwood was in……

There are so many fun thingsT you can do with cigars.  So many things……

Relly, who is with Kinky Catawba NC, MAsT: Hickory (both on FetLife), and The Leather History Conference ( http://www.leatherhistoryconference.com/leatherh/Home.html), and who is a whip master that can snap bumblebees out of the air, is a cigar aficionado.  Relly started out smoking cigarettes in high school like all the cool kids, but when he joined the Navy in ’07 his dalliance became a habit.  He realized that when you have an instructor that smokes, you get more breaks during job training.  And if a majority of your classmates also smoke and keep suggesting smoke breaks to your instructor, you hardly get any work done at all while Uncle Sam’s taxpayers keep you up.  His cigarette smoking lead him down Tobacco Road, like so many of our service people, and soon he was smoking cigars and pipes.

 ”Cigarettes are a nasty habit, and cigars are a social habit, and smoking a pipe is a hobby.” 

When Relly got into “the lifestyle” in ’09, he started getting creative with his cigars.  While he had already experienced the camaraderie of cigar smoking, he started exploring just what he could do with a sub and a cigar.  ”From a vanilla aspect…It’s just good fellowship. You go to a nice cigar bar, and it doesn’t really matter who you are, you can literally sit down next to someone you never met before and strike up a good conversation with somebody. ”  But in the kink world, cigars can be so much more.  ”I know girls that get off on walking around carrying an ashtray. The master picks out what he’s going to smoke, and the slave will lick it– wet it, cut it, light it, and hold the ash tray—or be the ash tray.”  Playing with cigar ash is a lot safer than playing with cigarette ash because cigarettes burn hotter than cigars.  

 

 “You can even put cigar ash in their mouth. There’s a nice smokey salt taste to the cigar ash. Just the feel of cigar ash is a textural based feel. It’s very much like the silk feel of the sex play powders. It’s a very nice textural feel. It’s just a warming heat. It’s very enjoyable. A lot of people like to roll the ash into a nice corset bound cleavage and it kinds of marks them as well. ”  And it’s vagina safe!

“Cigar play has the service aspect of it. And the basic play aspect of it. In the gay lover community, when they first started coming up, the masters would be sitting in their vests, and they would grab the slave’s collar and blow the smoke directly into their face, and it was very raw and powerful with that energy. The aspect of taking that control and forcing it on them. You know getting smoke in your face is generally something you wouldn’t want, but it’s something that you’re willing to take. And I do that as well. It is very empowering. It kind of sets the mood both ways.”

 

Remember, cigars still burn.

Relly, who is well acquainted with Pagan practices from when he helped lay chaplains in the Navy as a Religious Program Specialist, relayed to me a cutting and cigar ritual performed for a good friend of his that can be borrowed for several different rites of passages and other rituals.  ”He had a ritualistic cutting and scarification because he wanted this scar to last. He had a cutting done with symbols that meant a great deal to him, and while the cut was fresh he had people around him that were very close to him smoking cigars to impart themselves into the cigar. They took that ash into a bowl and ground that ash into the cutting, putting part of them into that cutting so that he could carry them with him for the rest of his life. It was a beautiful ceremony.”  This type of ritual could be incorporated into a handfasting, a Paganing (since it goes along with the American custom of handing out cigars when a baby is born), rituals of protection or naming, rites of initiation, or just about anything.  The cigar itself incorporates Earth with the tobacco leaves and wrapper, Water with wetting it down, Fire with lighting it, and Air with smoking it, which turns back into Earth with the ashes.  

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Things to know about the groups in Hickory:  Both groups are on Fetlife and have specific rules.  They are not about hooking-up.  They are more about fellowship and learning.  They are also vetted groups.  Please look them up for more information.  If you still have questions, feel free to message Relly on Fetlife.  He’s super nice and there to help.

Those Crazy Cubans

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Straight Laced and Well Embraced

Happy Ostara!

Psst, come here and give me a hug.  Can you feel what’s hugging me as you hug me?  If you don’t know what that is, then your ignorance about foundation garments is appalling. Some days are corset days, some days are bra days, and some days are dirty hippie days when I wear nothing at all.

I like corsets.  I don’t wear them tight enough to permanently change my shape.  I wear them just tight enough that they’re not slipping around and being uncomfortable.  I can do anything in a corset: fuck, toss cabers, cook, drive, run, kneel and suck, ride carousels– anything I want to do.  I like corsets because it feels like someone is always hugging me, like a lover wrapping his or her arms around me as they look over my shoulder.

There are tons of different styles of corsets, ranging from from ancient to modern.  I prefer a corset that’s more in a modest Victorian style–one that covers my tits (because why should you have to wear a bra with a corset?  That’s stupid!) and comes down far enough on my hips that when I kneel or bend over it doesn’t slip up over the waist band of my jeans.

While corsets may seem expensive and time consuming, they’re really not.

In the long run, corsets work out to be cheaper than bras, especially if you shop around and take good care of your garments.  You only need one corset (although more is always fun).  You don’t wash it more than once a year (if that).  You hang it over a hanger in the closet to air, if you want you can put fabric refresher on it, and the only other expense is buying camisoles to go under the corset.  Cotton camis are much cheaper than bras and much easier to wash.  Once you practice a time or two, putting on your corset is a cinch because you shouldn’t unlace it after every wearing.  You only need to loosen the laces before storage.

 

Ideally, corsets should be just tight enough not to slide around, like someone giving you a nice hug.  There is the practice of corset training, which is a form of body modification.  During the Victorian Era, it was the norm to purposely and permanently change a woman’s shape by using corset training. 

Corset piercing is another popular form of body modification.

Magically, corsets are like egg shells–protective and decorative.  They can be used for magical and psychic protection since they cover your heart, solar plexus, and sacral chakras.

Your corset, when used magically, is an extension of your psychic walls of protection.  You can use color magic to boost this principle, applique on stones, or embroider or paint runes and sigils on your corset.

Since corsets shouldn’t be washed, Florida water, of Hoodoo and Zora Neale Hurston fame, can be dabbed on the inside seams that cover the boning to cleanse your corset psychically and to give it a nice scent.  Why those particular areas?  When applied to the inside seams that cover the boning, the Florida water won’t seep through to the front of the corset and potentially stain the material. (Thanks Ms. Finch!)

Corsets can also be used for self-bondage.  A wonderful self bondage/suspension substitution is to lace yourself into a corset (and for this you may lace a little tighter than for normal wear) and go swing on a high “big kid” swing at the park. You know, the ones that get really high into the air.

Just enjoy the moment.  Use it as a meditation or a private, sexual moment (or both).  Once you get high enough, lean back and just let your body fly through the air–only pumping enough to maintain your height.  When you’re done, you can use the gradually slowing motion to bring yourself back down to reality.

These folks hope that you all have a very fun Ostara and fuck like bunnies:

Mystic Artisanshttps://www.facebook.com/mysticartisans

Passion And Soulhttp://passionandsoul.com/

Help with the project: http://www.indiegogo.com/projects/more-shibari-you-can-use

Tonia Brown:  www.thebackseatwriter.com

Quadrivium Supplies:  http://www.quadrivium-supplies.com/  

Hyperdreams Interactive Storieshttp://www.hyperdreams.com/

 

 

Damn it, Lupercus, I’m knotjokin!

CAESAR

Forget not, in your speed, Antonius,
To touch Calpurnia; for our elders say,
The barren touched in this holy chase,
Shake off their sterile curse.
The first time that I encountered the festival of Lupercalia, and the ritual races and fertility beatings that accompanied them, was in 10th grade English class.  Since I was already exploring a different path to sexual bliss than most of my classmates, I was really intrigued by the opening scenes of Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar.  If you’re not familiar with the holiday of Lupercalia, you’re really missing out.  It’s our favorite holiday here at The Barbed Pentacle!  In honor of that, Dr. David Hillman–of past Barbed Pentacle appearances and the author of The Chemical Muse and Original Sin–has written a guest post explaining the holiday (just in case you were ignorant!).

The Lupercalia: Rome’s BDSM Holiday

by Dr. David Hillman http://roninpub.com/orisin.html

It’s February again….Release the naked guys with their whips!  And good luck ladies; if you are fortunate this year, a crazed group of muscle-bound, oiled, pagan teenage boys will catch you in the streets and stripe your bleeding back with strips of leather while you clutch your bare breasts and scream in painful ecstasy.  Congratulations, you are now no longer just girls, wives and mothers; your titillation, screaming and wounds make you  the purified devotees of nymph-chasing Pan, and Lupa, the great Roman She-Wolf.
And don’t worry, the randy youths will be accompanied–as they always are–by the leading holy men of the city; priests of Faunus, artists and statesmen, with their rugged George Clooneyesque good looks…guys the likes of Mark Antony himself; a little sanctified eye-candy for everyone involved.

And yes, the Lupercalia was indeed one of Rome’s oldest and most distinguished high holidays.  It was a time of sexual fervor, when nubile young men cavorted at a public banquet, worked themselves into a drunken mania, and then shed themselves of their clothing, oiled each other up, and ran around the streets of Rome in a mob, chasing ladies while wielding nothing more than whips and hard-ons.
And what was the purpose?   Enlightenment!  Yes, that’s right.  The purpose was cosmic enlightenment…an understanding of the musical harmony of Nature.  The screaming girls formed the chorus of existence, and the pain was a religious tool used to acquire wisdom.  After all, as the Orphics taught, Pan was a primal manifestation of Apollo, the sun-god who brings light into the world–of course he also brought his youthful good looks and divine rock-star talent along with his wisdom.  Yep, you got it; the take home message was that pain-induced sexual ecstasy brings self-knowledge.  I knew you’d get it.
Oh….and I’m not making up the screaming part; the vocalization of orgasmic ecstasy, like the shout of a warrior about to give his life in battle, or the cries of a woman giving birth, were considered to be forms of worship in antiquity.  So getting a woman to bare her skin and shout while you whip her is…well…sort of a sacred act.
Obviously, the Roman Lupercalia mystifies modern classical scholars, who are happy to “live” in a monotheistic universe; we proud academics neither understand the purpose nor the spirit of these festivities.  Modern educators will tell you in a puzzled manner that they really don’t know the ins and outs of the Lupercalia.  Of course, their ignorance is part Christian prudery and part comedic irony–for the god worshiped at the Lupercalia, Pan, was called Inuus by the Romans.  And what’s so ironic about that?  “Inuus” in Latin means “the penetrator,” something the Christian world would rather forget–unless you happen to be a Catholic priest in the rectory with a nervous young boy, who according to long-established Church tradition, requires a form of sodomy-induced “sexual cleansing” to save his soul–a practice that esteemed early church fathers like Cyril, the archbishop of Jerusalem, instituted in order to purge the world of festivals like the Lupercalia.  Wow, that is ironic!  (FYI, Cyril preferred his pre-pubertal boys to be dressed up like girls when they were escorted to see him.)
Try not to make sense of why the Christians banned the celebration of the Lupercalia…just roll with the historic moral irony.  What’s really the point? The god pair Pan/Apollo were protectors of pre-pubertal kids, and the purification ceremonies performed in the Lupercalia were celebrations that preserved the ancient world’s focus on child safety by means of natural, adult sexual enlightenment; so the early Christians ended up prohibiting a festival meant to protect innocent children, while simultaneously adopting the ritual rape of young boys by their own priests.  Don’t read it again, you read that right.
And yes, it kind of makes twisted ironic sense that a Pope who sheltered so many pedophiles would pick this week–the week of the Lupercalia–to shed his own holy garments.
For any decent Lupercalia celebration, you need a good scourge.  While traditionally the scourge would have been made from a bloody goat skin, modern celebrants can be much more hygienic and order a toy from Knotjokin Rope Floggers.
How long have you been making rope floggers and other toys?  How long have you been in business?
I made my first Rope Mace Flogger in the summer of 2009 and gave it to a friend who pimped it out at the parties she hosted, leading to a bit of a local craze.
Soon after that, I was asked to vend at an APEX (Arizona Power Exchange) event which was quite a success, as their events usually are.
Don’t let any “professional” appearance fool you. I am still transforming from hobbyist to small business and have only been selling online for a few months. Though I’ve made a handful of online sales, “business” is slow, and my pricing doesn’t leave much room for profit (especially considering labor) just occasional gas money, or a nicer meal than I had planned.
Hardly a business, but I welcome change.
What gave you the idea for making toys out of rope?
I didn’t set out to make floggers (emphasizing plural), honestly.
I learned the monkey fist knot as a challenge to myself; the flogger part was almost an accident. Being generous and single on purpose, I gave it to a friend versus letting it collect dust. The other flogger styles were and still are my way of not being a one trick pony. Honestly, I loathe making Boney 9 Tails and Meat Grinders, but it’s not about me.  It’s about the consumer. Ask Joe Dirt.
What kind of rope do you use for the toys?  How long does it take you to make the toys?
Though I prefer natural fibers for rope bondage, for toys, I only use synthetic rope –for too many reasons to list, including the fact that a 5 ounce bird cannot carry a coconut no matter how it grips it.
It takes anywhere from 45 minutes to 2+ hours to make a flogger depending on the style. Happy Pants Floggers are quick but rough on my hands. Meat Grinders and Boney 9 Tails take forever and are even rougher on my hands.
You make more than just floggers.  Where do you draw your inspiration for creating the other toys?
I wasn’t sure how to answer this at first. To me, everything is a flogger…even one of my straight laced size 11 Converse Chuck Taylor All Stars will do in a pinch. Then I remembered all the people who hold my toys and say “what’s this for?”
A piece of rope can be a flogger, but it could fray if you didn’t knot it. Adding knots to high quality rope and finishing it the way I do just makes for a more attractive, reliable, reusable, sanitary, durable, fun toy than a knotted piece of rope or a dog toy.
What I’m doing may be a little different, but it’s not necessarily new per se. Pardon my French.
How many different types of toys do you make?
I lost count, honestly. I experiment often, and there are quite a few “one of a kind” pieces floating around out there.
Currently, I sell:
Rope Mace Floggers
Happy Pants Floggers
Boney 9 Tails Floggers (named for the human skeleton I tie into the design, not the number of falls)
and several other multi-fall floggers including my newest creations:
Meat Grinder Floggers ~multi-fall floggers with metal beads on the ends of the falls. My most recent Meat Grinders have 9 beads on 10 falls, plus some extras on the “hands” of the Boney 9 Tails “body”, making for 96 metal bits of pleasing punishment on a 2 way flogger.
(As with all of my floggers, the handle is also an implement and will fit inside a condom.)
I also have a small line of Glow-In-The-Dark toys including Happy Pants, Maces, and Multi-Mace pieces. They’ve been quite a hit since I introduced them a few months ago. That’s right; I said hit.
What tips do you have for people who are interested in selecting one of your toys for purchase?
My toys provide a plethora of sensations, but I do not have your superior intellect and education.
(See: Three Amigos. Really, see it. It’s a funny movie! *The fact that I just dated myself does not make this masturbation.* (Wait, yes it does. You like that?)
To answer your question by Knotjokin; I mean not joking, it really depends on the sensation you prefer. If you like: *THUD* -
There is no better toy than a Rope Mace Flogger. Nope. None.
If you like: *THUD+STING* -
Happy Pants Floggers are the way to go. The thinner/the stingy-er, er. A heavy hitting sadistic friend calls the thinner Happy Pants Floggers “little bastards” for their pain inflicting potential.
If you like: *STING* -
Boney 9 Tails and Meat Grinders are where it’s at. Ouch. Man, oh man; ouch.
Maces and Happy Pants will leave bruises if used heavily.
Both Boney 9 Tails and Meat Grinders will leave welts and even draw blood (especially Meat Grinders) if used heavily.
Finally:
*THERAPY*-
Rope Mace Floggers are surprisingly therapeutic on tight or sore muscles when used lightly. You don’t have to use the handle; you can choke up on them and use short, slow swings. I love the “ahh” look people make when they feel them like that…especially on their backs. I do it with almost every piece I finish, to be completely honest. Ahhh!
Really.
I also love hearing my name screamed from a sub in another room at a party ~after being struck by a sadist holding a Rope Mace Flogger…preceded by “fuckin”, of course.
(True story, sorta. I was outside and didn’t actually hear it, but I sure heard about it later!)
Do you take custom orders?  And if so, how do people/groups go about placing a custom order?
I welcome custom orders and have made a few recently, including a pink Meat Grinder purchased by a female dominant as a gift to her submissive husband for Valentine’s Day. I’m still flattered and proud to be a part of their celebration of love. Pretty cool.
You can hardly throw a rock without hitting a site where I can be contacted nowadays. Aside from www.knotjokin.com and my store www.knotjokin.etsy.com, I’m on Facebook, Fetlife, Twitter, Instagram, Tumblr, Copious, etc…
Though my ETSY store is the best way to contact me, all of the above will work.
What is your favorite toy to use that you make?  And do you use it as a dom, sub, or switch?
It would take an incredible woman to make me consider any role other than dominant, with sadistic tendencies. Absolutely incredible.
With that said; I prefer Rope Mace Floggers. They’re just fun to wield, ya know?
ETSY
Facebook “like/share”
Facebook friend (I’ll accept any legitimate friend requests)
Fetlife