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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Now Accepting Bids for Perchta Power Project Soap

Soap can be used in many different magical applications.  With that said, I am currently accepting bids from soap makers to a make custom batch of soap for The Barbed Pentacle and the Perchta Power Project.  I will pay for the labor, materials, and shipping in cash via Paypal.  Your profits will be paid to you via advertising and intense pimping out.  So, when you submit your bid, you’ll need to have those two figures in your email.  Please email me at chirpatsparrow@gmail.com to find out more details and to get an ingredients list.  Bidding ends July 1st, 2015 at 12:01 AM EDT.

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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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Sparrow vs. The Phantom: Episode 2

As you will remember from the last episode, The Phantom and I were discussing Edmond, his cat.  Remember, I’m in pink and Phantom is in blue.

Wow!  I wish I had had that “Goblin Market” essay to use as a source when I wrote my “Goblin Martket” masterpiece for my BritVicLit class.  Then I could have had a mega essay!  

Why do cats eat dumb things?  My cats eat some dumb things sometimes.  Sometimes they eat bird food, which is weird.  I’m tempted to leave the catbox dirty to see if anything sprouts.  Is Edmond doing better?  Is he out of the woods?

He seems to be doing ok! He’s had a couple of check ups with the vet, and he’s out of the woods. However! He managed to score an eye infection, and so I’ve been dealing with that over the past week. XD Haha, and of course he wants to stick as many paws as possible into his hurt eye because of course that will make it better. The eye seems to be clearing up now as well though. He’s been on anti-biotics for a week and a half now. 

 
And while it may be tempting, a clean litter box is important for all cats, whether they decide to eat bird food or not. XD Edmond eats earwax. I showed him some one day because I wanted to mess with him and gross him out. But he just started eating it, turned the tables, and grossed me out instead. 

Ewwww!  That’s so gross!  It’s like letting the dog clean out the litter box!  LOL!  I have a friend whose cat likes to get in the dirty clothes hamper and wear her dirty panties and bras.  I guess it’s because it smells like her.  

I’m really glad that Edmond is out of the woods.  I hope that everyone reading this interview gets a commission from you or donates money (big subliminal message).  
So, what are your big plans once the TA gig ends?

Aw, well, that’s at least cute though. Thirsting after earwax just doesn’t come off as quite as affectionate. XD

 
This month is spent moving out of my apartment. Also, I am currently waiting for the arrival of the Vampire Artbook books. I don’t know if you were in on the project, but I headed up an artbook funding project last year, and the books are finally set to arrive in early June! It’s a collection of 40+ illustrations and comics by a wide range of artists–and it also includes a statement by each artist discussing their work and their personal views on vampire mythos. It’s pretty great. 
 
The kickstarter is over, but you can find all the info here: https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/1592236066/the-vampire-artbook/description
I’m pretty proud of bringing something this big together. 
 
Summer plans are to move, mail out books, and do lots of art. I’m also travelling around a little to visit some friends. 
Awww! I missed out on the vamper books, but it sounds really cool!  Do you have any art work in there?  It sounds like your summer is pretty well filled; what about the fall?  And what do you need an English degree for if you’re going to be doing art?
Yeah! The vampire books are very cool. 
I do have some artwork in it. The extra copies will start to go on sale once the contributors get their copies.
In the autumn, I’ll be reevaluating my life as my student loans become due. 
 
What isn’t an English degree good for? The amount of ideas and materials I was exposed to had a huge influence on my intellectual development, my aesthetics, and my art. I’m looking into going to art school next year though. 
That’s so true about an English degree.  It’s like it’s good for everything and nothing at all.  Usually it’s good for being an over-educated fry cook, warehouse work, or field hand.  And English professors have the best stories!  A lot of them seem to be star fuckers (or at least the ones I’ve met).  Maybe it’s the whole Arthur Miller complex.  
What art school are you looking at going to?
Your million dollar question:  Is pornography art or smut?
Here’s the artbook’s tumblr! I’m currently posting interviews with the various artists so that the blog doesn’t sit stagnate while the books are shipping. Once the books arrive and the extras start selling, I’ll post links there to where you can buy one! :D
 
Haha, well, I think that English people tend to half-jokingly say English degrees aren’t good for anything, but dang, an English degree is like a history, literature, rhetoric, and philosophy degree combined into one. Plus, deep down English is about clearly and concisely relating information (and analyzing information); who doesn’t need that? 
Business person? Well, they need to be able to articulate their plans to their employees and customers. 
Mathematician? They need to clearly articulate their findings, and why the findings matter.
Lawyer? They have to know how to argue convincingly.
Astronomers? They need to write compelling proposals to fund their research.
 
“English” as a discipline is so integral to everything in our society I think people just tend to forget how central it really is. I think it’s good for everything. And people can get jobs in English specifically. Personally, I think the “English degrees don’t get jobs” sentiment is based on an almost entirely erroneous assumption. I’m just kinda “????” whenever sentiments like this come up, because they’re just silly. English degrees get people jobs. Surprise!
 
I have no idea what a star fucker is, or what an Arthur Miller complex is. Can you explain? The definitions google’s giving me aren’t very helpful. XD
 
I’m looking into school in Finland! If I can get even just a part-time job, then I can get my residency permit and school is free there. Finland is where I want to end up eventually anyway, no matter what.
 
It’s not quite that simple, of course. What I don’t think is art, is images made for the male gaze that rely on objectification, the degradation of women (or anyone else), the perpetuation of stereotypes, and harmful modes of thinking. That stuff is not art.
 
Luckily, this isn’t an area I’ve thought about enough to give you any more than the answer above. I’m not really qualified to say beyond that. Since I’m not interested in porn, I’m not qualified to give a more particular answer. :)

 Here’s the artbook link I meant to include: http://vampireartbook.tumblr.com

 
The kickstarter provides a better overall look at the artbook though, and it does link to the tumblr site. So I often just give out the KS address anyway. 

A “star fucker” is a person who only has sex with a person because they’re famous and later on they can brag about it.  An “Arthur Miller” complex is when a writer marries somebody famous to launch their own career.  Arthur Miller, even though brilliant, would not be as well know if he had not been one of Marilyn Monroe’s husbands.  I’ve had at least 4 different English professors tell me that they’ve slept with Erica Jong.  So, either Erica Jong is a slut, the professors were star fuckers, the professors were liars, or all three.  And one of those professors was female.

What if the art is trying to make you think about how porn objectifies women and how that makes your body feel? And to do that, it emulates pornography?  At that point, is it still art or has it crossed the line into pornography?
So, since it keeps coming up, let’s talk about this asexuality, if it’s not too personal a subject.  When you say “asexual”, do you mean that you feel no sexual interest what so ever when you see men or women?  Are you celibate?  Does your body respond to sexual stimulation? 
Wow, those aren’t the English professors I know. Mine were all very committed to their work, and just about as far from that as one can get. 
 
It’s a fine line. I don’t think emulating porn is the best way to go about critiquing it. But it all depends on the approach. Personally, I don’t think emulating something like exploitation or objectification is at all helpful in critiquing those structures. Of course, it’s tricky, since then we run into the issue of what constitutes “emulation.” 
If the artwork is clearly sending a message that is critiquing rather than glorifying the objectification of women, I’d say it is still art. And of course, that depends on our definition of “clearly” as well. XD I think critique is most powerfully done not through emulation but through direct confrontation with the subject. 
 
Asexuality! I don’t think it’s anyone’s business what my personal life is like in that detail. :) However, I will give you quick rundown of some of the words you used. Asexual means not feeling sexual attraction to anyone (just mentioning men and women would set up an unnecessary binary). That’s it! Pretty simple. Celibacy is entirely different. Celibacy is when someone makes a personal choice not to have sex, whether they feel attraction or not. It’s also often a religiously motivated choice. So those two terms are very different. Asking me about this stuff is like asking me for my views on this year’s rutabaga crop. Not my area, not particularly interested. :) I spend my time pursuing other things, like art. :D
Oh, and I do know about this year’s rutabaga crop.  I have some in my garden. ; )  The tubers are going to end up being smaller than normal and hard.  We started out with lots of rain, but now it’s completely dry, which will lead to shriveled tubers because they’re using up their stored water to keep their green tops alive for photosynthesis.
Stay tuned for more of the tete a tete and touche hilarity of “Sparrow vs. The Phantom”.
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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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Fume Rite, 1: Chasing a Pillar of Smoke

I’ve written about smoking here some time back.  It was mainly about pot, as I recall.  Or maybe it wasn’t.  Who knows?  Like most things in life, smoking is extremely sexy and it will kill you.  Not only is it sexually stimulating to me when I see people really enjoying a cigarette or cigar (not just mindlessly smoking because they can’t control themselves), but it’s sexually stimulating to me when I smoke a cigarette (or these days an ehookah).  And it’s not just the nicotine stimulating brain chemicals, it’s the act of inhalation, drawing the smoke into your mouth and lungs and manipulating it once it’s in your body.

From start to finish, it gets me sopping.  The flick of a nice, REAL lighter is like a lover breathing lightly on my neck.

 And then the orgasm of it all are the smoking tricks.  My favorite is the French Inhale.  I enjoy doing it, but I like it even better if it’s executed by the other party.  It’s like I can just almost feel the smoker going down on me by extension of the smoke.  

 It is as complicated as it looks, but like most tricks some folks can do it the first go round and some folks just never get the hang of it.  It can be done with any kind of smoke, including vapor, although it’s a harder with vape.  Here’s a great how-to video for the French Inhale and other Tricks.

I’ve always been fascinated with smoking.  I grew up in a smoking household.  It was there and visible.  I grew up in tobacco country, where the notion that smoking was a health hazard was for the most part scoffed at.  I started smoking when I was 14 because, as I stated earlier, it excited me sexually, especially when I saw it in black and white movies.  I’ve been an occasional, recreational, social smoker ever since.

I first became acquainted with the “real” ritualistic use of smoking in modern times at a Fume Rite exhibit in college.  It was staged, picture by picture, like an art exhibit, but it was one of those exhibits that the artistic merit wasn’t so much in the how-to drawings, but in the actual execution of the ritual itself.  Had it actually been carried out, it would have resembled a Japanese tea ceremony.  Of course the irony was that it was hung in a “no smoking” gallery.  I’m currently working on chasing a pillar of smoke to find out more about Fume Rite.  As it is now, I’m working off of memories a decade old and no internet leads.

So, if you’d like to help, and you know something about Fume Rite (which I want to say was celebrated on April 15 and October 15), please email me at chirpatsparrow@gmail.com.  If you don’t know anything, but you’d still like to help, then find something smokey to inhale and say a prayer that the information comes my way.  Societies all around the world, including the Roman Catholic church, believe that prayers are carried to heaven via smoke (and I believe in our modern times vapor).  If you just can’t bring yourself to inhale, choose a nice incense, preferably frankincense because it’ll give you a little mild bit of hallucinatory buzz if burned in an unventilated environment, and burn it with your prayers.

 

 

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/

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Tonia Brown:  www.thebackseatwriter.com

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

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

 

 

Slender, Sexy Switches

For long time readers (and those who know me best), it’s no secret how I adore switches.  The sound, the sensation, the agonizing anticipation of peeking through the window to see a lover cutting one, the horrible indecision of having to cut one for yourself, the absolute fun of gauging what kind of swish factor to inflict on a waiting sub, I love it all.  And my absolute favorites are the floral switches of the spring blooming shrubs!  Forsythias, also called yellow bells, are what I dream about all winter long.  If you’ve not read the previous Barbed Pentacle posts about switches, you can now:  http://barbedpentacle.com/228-2/  http://barbedpentacle.com/2012/03/say-it-with-a-switch-integrating-floral-switches-into-your-play-and-ritual/  http://barbedpentacle.com/2011/12/happy-krampusnacht/

On Mach 30, 2014, I will be presenting a class “Slender, Sexy Switches” at the LoftNC at 3:30pm.  This is, of course, for those who are 18 and older.  If you are interested in attending, please email the house mistress at loftnc@gmail.com for more information (pricing, location, etc.) and to RSVP.  If you would like to attend, please feel free to bring switches of your own, if you like, pruning shears, pocket knife, and fine grain sand paper.  We’ll be learning about choosing and preparing switches and rods, neat ideas for using them in play, safety and after care, and you never know, there may even be a demo.

For more information on The LoftNC, check out them out on FetLife: https://fetlife.com/groups/63797/group_posts/4463882  and at their website:  http://www.loftnc.com/splash.php

************************************Updated: 3/29/14***************************

The house mistress at The LoftNC decided to sacrifice my class to progress, basically.  I received a Fetlife message this evening, dated 4 days ago, that due to space issues at the Loft that my class was being canceled and would be rescheduled at a future time.  Yep, I’m sure you can smell that too, and there are no cows anywhere around you.  So, I’ll keep you posted.  Thanks for your support, those that RSVPed.  And if you have a venue that you’d like me to teach at, just drop me a line at chirp_sparrow@yahoo.com.

These folks like the little bites of a good birch rod:

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/