Massaging the Moon

In the spirit of the Mabon (the fruit harvest) and the Harvest Moon, we’re going to explore ways to harvest sexual fruits in the bedroom.  Sex and fruit have been linked from the beginning of time.  Look at a plum and a naked woman.  Is that a banana in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?  See where this juice is running?  And it’s not only the visuals of fruits that invoke sexual thoughts in humans, it’s also the textures of the flesh, the taste, and the aromas.  Erotic Sensations has launched a new line of edible, fruity massage oils just in time for the fruit harvest: http://eroticsensations.us/index.php?main_page=index&cPath=5.  These economically priced non-staining, latex free, oil free ”oils” are good for massages or lubrication and are made from a vegetable base with no sugar added!

Personal and couple massage is a perfect way to celebrate and take advantage of the full moon and its energy.  To take advantage of the moon’s energy, make sure that the massage takes place near a window or sky light where the moon’s light is streaming in or have the massage take place outside under the moon.  As you stroke and knead, draw the moon’s energy into yourself and let it flow into you (for personal) or your partner through your fingers and palms.  Ritual massage is good for energy work, healing, and sex magic.  Adding in scented or flavored massage oils adds an interesting magical layer.

Erotic Sensations currently offers seven different flavors for your ritual needs.  As you massage with these oils, the oils will warm up when friction is applied by rubbing or heat up instantly when you blow on them (just think of the sensual possibilities there!).

Banana:  This scent is good for any working dealing with male or solar energy.  Bananas also represent the desire to give up material possessions.  As you massage with the oils, visualize being comfortable and happy with less possessions and clutter in your or your partner’s life.

Cherry: The scent of cherries is wonderful for doing personal massage work to attract suitors, particularly females.  It’s also good for aiding in divination, a traditional activity at the full moon.  See if you can devise a method of divination using cherry massage oil and your partner’s reaction to certain massage techniques or the way his or her muscles react to your touch.

Peach: This massage oil is good for work dealing with love (yourself, your partner, or others), spiritual fertility, and wishes.  If you feel a little empty or a little spiritually unfulfilled, spread a little peach massage oil on something nice to fill yourself up.  As you massage yourself, ask the Lord and Lady to come and plant the spiritual seeds with in you that you want to grow.

Passion Fruit:  This oil should be a no-brainer just based on its name.  Besides passion, passion fruit massage oil is good for winning love through a good massage or strengthening a friendship with good firm strokes.

Pina Colada:  The magic of pina colada massage oil is that it combines the properties of pineapple (which Erotic Sensations also sells separately) and coconut.  Both pineapples and coconuts are associated with chastity, so this oil is particularly good if you’re abstaining from partnered sex for a while and need a little fun.  Coconut massage oil works well too if you’re giving a massage to rid somebody or yourself of impurities or if you’re trying to massage into a person or yourself some wisdom.  Pineapple massage oil is good to take with you if you and your honey are going to Vegas or some other casino mecca since it helps attract prosperity and luck (or it could be used as a good way to relax before a job interview).  The oil is also good for protection.  Going on a long trip and you’re worried about leaving your partner all alone?  Massage a protection spell into their flesh with pineapple massage oil.

Strawberries: Strawberries are notorious for being thought to be aphrodisiacs.  This massage oil is good if you are doing a self-massage to have good luck in love or romance, or if you’re giving a massage to a partner that you think you may want to pursue further.

Not sure how to properly give a massage?  These web articles can help out:

http://www.lhj.com/health/stress/relaxation-techniques/how-to-give-a-killer-massage/  (I love the lesbian drawings–because we all know that’s what they are!)

http://www.redbookmag.com/love-sex/advice/sexy-touch-man

http://tantraecstasy.blogspot.com/2011/04/how-to-give-erotic-massage.html

 If you’re interested in pursuing erotically-charged magical massage, but you just don’t have the money right now to order supplies, enter this month’s giveaway: http://barbedpentacle.com/giveaways/.  There’s a set of massage oils up for grabs, as well as a wonderful set of bath supplies from Erotic Sensations.
Have the oils but need help getting in the right frame of mind for magic?  These posts should help:

http://barbedpentacle.com/2012/03/squeeze-my-melons-and-plow-my-furrow-poetry-supplement/

http://barbedpentacle.com/words-to-stroke-to/

These folks love to be massaged with fruity edible oils:

Erotic Sensations http://eroticsensations.us/

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

Tonia Brown www.thebackseatwriter.com

Chris Eagle Music http://chriseaglemusic.weebly.com/

The Geeky Kink Event http://thegeekykinkevent.com/
Passion And Soul: http://passionandsoul.com/

Squeeze My Melons and Plow My Furrow: Poetry Supplement



Just a little fruity sex to sweeten the day!


This Is Just To Say


I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox

and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold



Goblin Market

Morning and evening
Maids heard the goblins cry:
“Come buy our orchard fruits,
Come buy, come buy:
Apples and quinces,
Lemons and oranges,
Plump unpeck’d cherries,
Melons and raspberries,
Bloom-down-cheek’d peaches,
Swart-headed mulberries,
Wild free-born cranberries,
Crab-apples, dewberries,
Pine-apples, blackberries,
Apricots, strawberries;—
All ripe together
In summer weather,—
Morns that pass by,
Fair eves that fly;
Come buy, come buy:
Our grapes fresh from the vine,
Pomegranates full and fine,
Dates and sharp bullaces,
Rare pears and greengages,
Damsons and bilberries,
Taste them and try:
Currants and gooseberries,
Bright-fire-like barberries,
Figs to fill your mouth,
Citrons from the South,
Sweet to tongue and sound to eye;
Come buy, come buy.”
               Evening by evening
Among the brookside rushes,
Laura bow’d her head to hear,
Lizzie veil’d her blushes:
Crouching close together
In the cooling weather,
With clasping arms and cautioning lips,
With tingling cheeks and finger tips.
“Lie close,” Laura said,
Pricking up her golden head:
“We must not look at goblin men,
We must not buy their fruits:
Who knows upon what soil they fed
Their hungry thirsty roots?”
“Come buy,” call the goblins
Hobbling down the glen.
“Oh,” cried Lizzie, “Laura, Laura,
You should not peep at goblin men.”
Lizzie cover’d up her eyes,
Cover’d close lest they should look;
Laura rear’d her glossy head,
And whisper’d like the restless brook:
“Look, Lizzie, look, Lizzie,
Down the glen tramp little men.
One hauls a basket,
One bears a plate,
One lugs a golden dish
Of many pounds weight.
How fair the vine must grow
Whose grapes are so luscious;
How warm the wind must blow
Through those fruit bushes.”
“No,” said Lizzie, “No, no, no;
Their offers should not charm us,
Their evil gifts would harm us.”
She thrust a dimpled finger
In each ear, shut eyes and ran:
Curious Laura chose to linger
Wondering at each merchant man.
One had a cat’s face,
One whisk’d a tail,
One tramp’d at a rat’s pace,
One crawl’d like a snail,
One like a wombat prowl’d obtuse and furry,
One like a ratel tumbled hurry skurry.
She heard a voice like voice of doves
Cooing all together:
They sounded kind and full of loves
In the pleasant weather.
               Laura stretch’d her gleaming neck
Like a rush-imbedded swan,
Like a lily from the beck,
Like a moonlit poplar branch,
Like a vessel at the launch
When its last restraint is gone.
               Backwards up the mossy glen
Turn’d and troop’d the goblin men,
With their shrill repeated cry,
“Come buy, come buy.”
When they reach’d where Laura was
They stood stock still upon the moss,
Leering at each other,
Brother with queer brother;
Signalling each other,
Brother with sly brother.
One set his basket down,
One rear’d his plate;
One began to weave a crown
Of tendrils, leaves, and rough nuts brown
(Men sell not such in any town);
One heav’d the golden weight
Of dish and fruit to offer her:
“Come buy, come buy,” was still their cry.
Laura stared but did not stir,
Long’d but had no money:
The whisk-tail’d merchant bade her taste
In tones as smooth as honey,
The cat-faced purr’d,
The rat-faced spoke a word
Of welcome, and the snail-paced even was heard;
One parrot-voiced and jolly
Cried “Pretty Goblin” still for “Pretty Polly;”—
One whistled like a bird.
               But sweet-tooth Laura spoke in haste:
“Good folk, I have no coin;
To take were to purloin:
I have no copper in my purse,
I have no silver either,
And all my gold is on the furze
That shakes in windy weather
Above the rusty heather.”
“You have much gold upon your head,”
They answer’d all together:
“Buy from us with a golden curl.”
She clipp’d a precious golden lock,
She dropp’d a tear more rare than pearl,
Then suck’d their fruit globes fair or red:
Sweeter than honey from the rock,
Stronger than man-rejoicing wine,
Clearer than water flow’d that juice;
She never tasted such before,
How should it cloy with length of use?
She suck’d and suck’d and suck’d the more
Fruits which that unknown orchard bore;
She suck’d until her lips were sore;
Then flung the emptied rinds away
But gather’d up one kernel stone,
And knew not was it night or day
As she turn’d home alone.
               Lizzie met her at the gate
Full of wise upbraidings:
“Dear, you should not stay so late,
Twilight is not good for maidens;
Should not loiter in the glen
In the haunts of goblin men.
Do you not remember Jeanie,
How she met them in the moonlight,
Took their gifts both choice and many,
Ate their fruits and wore their flowers
Pluck’d from bowers
Where summer ripens at all hours?
But ever in the noonlight
She pined and pined away;
Sought them by night and day,
Found them no more, but dwindled and grew grey;
Then fell with the first snow,
While to this day no grass will grow
Where she lies low:
I planted daisies there a year ago
That never blow.
You should not loiter so.”
“Nay, hush,” said Laura:
“Nay, hush, my sister:
I ate and ate my fill,
Yet my mouth waters still;
To-morrow night I will
Buy more;” and kiss’d her:
“Have done with sorrow;
I’ll bring you plums to-morrow
Fresh on their mother twigs,
Cherries worth getting;
You cannot think what figs
My teeth have met in,
What melons icy-cold
Piled on a dish of gold
Too huge for me to hold,
What peaches with a velvet nap,
Pellucid grapes without one seed:
Odorous indeed must be the mead
Whereon they grow, and pure the wave they drink
With lilies at the brink,
And sugar-sweet their sap.”
               Golden head by golden head,
Like two pigeons in one nest
Folded in each other’s wings,
They lay down in their curtain’d bed:
Like two blossoms on one stem,
Like two flakes of new-fall’n snow,
Like two wands of ivory
Tipp’d with gold for awful kings.
Moon and stars gaz’d in at them,
Wind sang to them lullaby,
Lumbering owls forbore to fly,
Not a bat flapp’d to and fro
Round their rest:
Cheek to cheek and breast to breast
Lock’d together in one nest.
               Early in the morning
When the first cock crow’d his warning,
Neat like bees, as sweet and busy,
Laura rose with Lizzie:
Fetch’d in honey, milk’d the cows,
Air’d and set to rights the house,
Kneaded cakes of whitest wheat,
Cakes for dainty mouths to eat,
Next churn’d butter, whipp’d up cream,
Fed their poultry, sat and sew’d;
Talk’d as modest maidens should:
Lizzie with an open heart,
Laura in an absent dream,
One content, one sick in part;
One warbling for the mere bright day’s delight,
One longing for the night.
               At length slow evening came:
They went with pitchers to the reedy brook;
Lizzie most placid in her look,
Laura most like a leaping flame.
They drew the gurgling water from its deep;
Lizzie pluck’d purple and rich golden flags,
Then turning homeward said: “The sunset flushes
Those furthest loftiest crags;
Come, Laura, not another maiden lags.
No wilful squirrel wags,
The beasts and birds are fast asleep.”
But Laura loiter’d still among the rushes
And said the bank was steep.
               And said the hour was early still
The dew not fall’n, the wind not chill;
Listening ever, but not catching
The customary cry,
“Come buy, come buy,”
With its iterated jingle
Of sugar-baited words:
Not for all her watching
Once discerning even one goblin
Racing, whisking, tumbling, hobbling;
Let alone the herds
That used to tramp along the glen,
In groups or single,
Of brisk fruit-merchant men.
               Till Lizzie urged, “O Laura, come;
I hear the fruit-call but I dare not look:
You should not loiter longer at this brook:
Come with me home.
The stars rise, the moon bends her arc,
Each glowworm winks her spark,
Let us get home before the night grows dark:
For clouds may gather
Though this is summer weather,
Put out the lights and drench us through;
Then if we lost our way what should we do?”
               Laura turn’d cold as stone
To find her sister heard that cry alone,
That goblin cry,
“Come buy our fruits, come buy.”
Must she then buy no more such dainty fruit?
Must she no more such succous pasture find,
Gone deaf and blind?
Her tree of life droop’d from the root:
She said not one word in her heart’s sore ache;
But peering thro’ the dimness, nought discerning,
Trudg’d home, her pitcher dripping all the way;
So crept to bed, and lay
Silent till Lizzie slept;
Then sat up in a passionate yearning,
And gnash’d her teeth for baulk’d desire, and wept
As if her heart would break.
               Day after day, night after night,
Laura kept watch in vain
In sullen silence of exceeding pain.
She never caught again the goblin cry:
“Come buy, come buy;”—
She never spied the goblin men
Hawking their fruits along the glen:
But when the noon wax’d bright
Her hair grew thin and grey;
She dwindled, as the fair full moon doth turn
To swift decay and burn
Her fire away.
               One day remembering her kernel-stone
She set it by a wall that faced the south;
Dew’d it with tears, hoped for a root,
Watch’d for a waxing shoot,
But there came none;
It never saw the sun,
It never felt the trickling moisture run:
While with sunk eyes and faded mouth
She dream’d of melons, as a traveller sees
False waves in desert drouth
With shade of leaf-crown’d trees,
And burns the thirstier in the sandful breeze.
               She no more swept the house,
Tended the fowls or cows,
Fetch’d honey, kneaded cakes of wheat,
Brought water from the brook:
But sat down listless in the chimney-nook
And would not eat.
               Tender Lizzie could not bear
To watch her sister’s cankerous care
Yet not to share.
She night and morning
Caught the goblins’ cry:
“Come buy our orchard fruits,
Come buy, come buy;”—
Beside the brook, along the glen,
She heard the tramp of goblin men,
The yoke and stir
Poor Laura could not hear;
Long’d to buy fruit to comfort her,
But fear’d to pay too dear.
She thought of Jeanie in her grave,
Who should have been a bride;
But who for joys brides hope to have
Fell sick and died
In her gay prime,
In earliest winter time
With the first glazing rime,
With the first snow-fall of crisp winter time.
               Till Laura dwindling
Seem’d knocking at Death’s door:
Then Lizzie weigh’d no more
Better and worse;
But put a silver penny in her purse,
Kiss’d Laura, cross’d the heath with clumps of furze
At twilight, halted by the brook:
And for the first time in her life
Began to listen and look.
               Laugh’d every goblin
When they spied her peeping:
Came towards her hobbling,
Flying, running, leaping,
Puffing and blowing,
Chuckling, clapping, crowing,
Clucking and gobbling,
Mopping and mowing,
Full of airs and graces,
Pulling wry faces,
Demure grimaces,
Cat-like and rat-like,
Ratel- and wombat-like,
Snail-paced in a hurry,
Parrot-voiced and whistler,
Helter skelter, hurry skurry,
Chattering like magpies,
Fluttering like pigeons,
Gliding like fishes,—
Hugg’d her and kiss’d her:
Squeez’d and caress’d her:
Stretch’d up their dishes,
Panniers, and plates:
“Look at our apples
Russet and dun,
Bob at our cherries,
Bite at our peaches,
Citrons and dates,
Grapes for the asking,
Pears red with basking
Out in the sun,
Plums on their twigs;
Pluck them and suck them,
Pomegranates, figs.”—
               “Good folk,” said Lizzie,
Mindful of Jeanie:
“Give me much and many: —
Held out her apron,
Toss’d them her penny.
“Nay, take a seat with us,
Honour and eat with us,”
They answer’d grinning:
“Our feast is but beginning.
Night yet is early,
Warm and dew-pearly,
Wakeful and starry:
Such fruits as these
No man can carry:
Half their bloom would fly,
Half their dew would dry,
Half their flavour would pass by.
Sit down and feast with us,
Be welcome guest with us,
Cheer you and rest with us.”—
“Thank you,” said Lizzie: “But one waits
At home alone for me:
So without further parleying,
If you will not sell me any
Of your fruits though much and many,
Give me back my silver penny
I toss’d you for a fee.”—
They began to scratch their pates,
No longer wagging, purring,
But visibly demurring,
Grunting and snarling.
One call’d her proud,
Cross-grain’d, uncivil;
Their tones wax’d loud,
Their looks were evil.
Lashing their tails
They trod and hustled her,
Elbow’d and jostled her,
Claw’d with their nails,
Barking, mewing, hissing, mocking,
Tore her gown and soil’d her stocking,
Twitch’d her hair out by the roots,
Stamp’d upon her tender feet,
Held her hands and squeez’d their fruits
Against her mouth to make her eat.
               White and golden Lizzie stood,
Like a lily in a flood,—
Like a rock of blue-vein’d stone
Lash’d by tides obstreperously,—
Like a beacon left alone
In a hoary roaring sea,
Sending up a golden fire,—
Like a fruit-crown’d orange-tree
White with blossoms honey-sweet
Sore beset by wasp and bee,—
Like a royal virgin town
Topp’d with gilded dome and spire
Close beleaguer’d by a fleet
Mad to tug her standard down.
               One may lead a horse to water,
Twenty cannot make him drink.
Though the goblins cuff’d and caught her,
Coax’d and fought her,
Bullied and besought her,
Scratch’d her, pinch’d her black as ink,
Kick’d and knock’d her,
Maul’d and mock’d her,
Lizzie utter’d not a word;
Would not open lip from lip
Lest they should cram a mouthful in:
But laugh’d in heart to feel the drip
Of juice that syrupp’d all her face,
And lodg’d in dimples of her chin,
And streak’d her neck which quaked like curd.
At last the evil people,
Worn out by her resistance,
Flung back her penny, kick’d their fruit
Along whichever road they took,
Not leaving root or stone or shoot;
Some writh’d into the ground,
Some div’d into the brook
With ring and ripple,
Some scudded on the gale without a sound,
Some vanish’d in the distance.
               In a smart, ache, tingle,
Lizzie went her way;
Knew not was it night or day;
Sprang up the bank, tore thro’ the furze,
Threaded copse and dingle,
And heard her penny jingle
Bouncing in her purse,—
Its bounce was music to her ear.
She ran and ran
As if she fear’d some goblin man
Dogg’d her with gibe or curse
Or something worse:
But not one goblin scurried after,
Nor was she prick’d by fear;
The kind heart made her windy-paced
That urged her home quite out of breath with haste
And inward laughter.
               She cried, “Laura,” up the garden,
“Did you miss me?
Come and kiss me.
Never mind my bruises,
Hug me, kiss me, suck my juices
Squeez’d from goblin fruits for you,
Goblin pulp and goblin dew.
Eat me, drink me, love me;
Laura, make much of me;
For your sake I have braved the glen
And had to do with goblin merchant men.”
               Laura started from her chair,
Flung her arms up in the air,
Clutch’d her hair:
“Lizzie, Lizzie, have you tasted
For my sake the fruit forbidden?
Must your light like mine be hidden,
Your young life like mine be wasted,
Undone in mine undoing,
And ruin’d in my ruin,
Thirsty, canker’d, goblin-ridden?”—
She clung about her sister,
Kiss’d and kiss’d and kiss’d her:
Tears once again
Refresh’d her shrunken eyes,
Dropping like rain
After long sultry drouth;
Shaking with aguish fear, and pain,
She kiss’d and kiss’d her with a hungry mouth.
               Her lips began to scorch,
That juice was wormwood to her tongue,
She loath’d the feast:
Writhing as one possess’d she leap’d and sung,
Rent all her robe, and wrung
Her hands in lamentable haste,
And beat her breast.
Her locks stream’d like the torch
Borne by a racer at full speed,
Or like the mane of horses in their flight,
Or like an eagle when she stems the light
Straight toward the sun,
Or like a caged thing freed,
Or like a flying flag when armies run.
               Swift fire spread through her veins, knock’d at her heart,
Met the fire smouldering there
And overbore its lesser flame;
She gorged on bitterness without a name:
Ah! fool, to choose such part
Of soul-consuming care!
Sense fail’d in the mortal strife:
Like the watch-tower of a town
Which an earthquake shatters down,
Like a lightning-stricken mast,
Like a wind-uprooted tree
Spun about,
Like a foam-topp’d waterspout
Cast down headlong in the sea,
She fell at last;
Pleasure past and anguish past,
Is it death or is it life?
               Life out of death.
That night long Lizzie watch’d by her,
Counted her pulse’s flagging stir,
Felt for her breath,
Held water to her lips, and cool’d her face
With tears and fanning leaves:
But when the first birds chirp’d about their eaves,
And early reapers plodded to the place
Of golden sheaves,
And dew-wet grass
Bow’d in the morning winds so brisk to pass,
And new buds with new day
Open’d of cup-like lilies on the stream,
Laura awoke as from a dream,
Laugh’d in the innocent old way,
Hugg’d Lizzie but not twice or thrice;
Her gleaming locks show’d not one thread of grey,
Her breath was sweet as May
And light danced in her eyes.
               Days, weeks, months, years
Afterwards, when both were wives
With children of their own;
Their mother-hearts beset with fears,
Their lives bound up in tender lives;
Laura would call the little ones
And tell them of her early prime,
Those pleasant days long gone
Of not-returning time:
Would talk about the haunted glen,
The wicked, quaint fruit-merchant men,
Their fruits like honey to the throat
But poison in the blood;
(Men sell not such in any town):
Would tell them how her sister stood
In deadly peril to do her good,
And win the fiery antidote:
Then joining hands to little hands
Would bid them cling together,
“For there is no friend like a sister
In calm or stormy weather;
To cheer one on the tedious way,
To fetch one if one goes astray,
To lift one if one totters down,
To strengthen whilst one stands.”
Check out these awesome folks:  Sub-shop.com http://bit.ly/subshop

Squeeze My Melons and Plow My Furrow, Part 2: Eat Me!– Corporal Cakes and Ale




“May you never hunger.”

Food and sex have always been linked for me. I love licking things off of flesh, letting the natural human salt taste mingle with the flavors of the edible. I also have certain types of food that I like after sex. I like low alcohol content beverages (like beer or wine), something salty, something greasy, and some sort of protein–preferably something raw or rare. For example, beer, super rare steak, runny eggs, and heavily buttered toast is the perfect post orgasm meal for me. I think it has to do with the primal urges that are evoked during sex and our body’s natural urge to replace spent calories. It also helps me to ease down slowly from the endorphin high, instead of crashing down quickly with unpleasant emotional turmoil.
In Wicca, and in some other Pagan religions as well, there is the practice of cakes and ale. Traditionally the cakes were actual cakes that were blessed and then passed around with the sentiment, “May you never hunger.” However, now it’s any sort of food. In many groups, one person will feed the person next to them as they say the wish, and on around the circle. To balance it out, a communal cup is often passed, with once again one person holding it while the other person drinks from it as the cup bearer whispers, “May you never thirst.” While these two wishes are rooted in the not so distant past when survival was not certain due to a very probable lack of food and liquid, the custom of feeding your neighbor and bearing their cup reminds me of a wedding feast, where the bride and groom feed each other and entwine arms for the bridal toast. And in a certain sense it is like a wedding feast. A lot of Wiccan groups, and to a lesser extent other Pagan groups, will plunge an athame into the communal chalice that is about to be passed. Usually (but not always), the athame is plunged by the high priest, while the high priestess holds the cup. This is a very visual but family-friendly version of Hieros Gamos, or Holy Sex (which will be covered more in depth at Beltane).

While sex and food is not an unknown concept to most people (most of us have done body shots or eaten whipped cream off of a partner), and practicing Wiccans are intimately familiar with cakes and ale and perhaps even the more exotic and blasphemous chocolate and coffee rituals, a lot of couples never think to merge the two practices together, even if they engage in regular ritual sex. So, to inspire your rituals and tantalize your taste buds, I’ve compiled an extensive list of foods to whet your appetite.
The Pantry
The most obvious way to incorporate food and sex into your rituals is oral sex. For me, some one performing really nice cunnilingus on me gives me the same feeling I get when I eat a hot, fresh Krispy Kreme doughnut straight from the deep fryer. It can be a lot of fun to reciprocate the favor by sliding a Krispy Kreme Doughnut onto a nice erect penis, and take my mouth and run my tongue….well, I’m sure you can imagine I what I like to do.

Fellatio and cunnilingus are both wonderful ways to eat out the cakes and ale section of a ritual. Orgasms can give your ritual that last extra oomph and are a good way to ground and release extra energy. Plus, semen (and perhaps feminine fluids too) are chocked full of vitamins and nutrients that your body needs. Sex juices are also a very fitting libation to your Deities that will never be rejected (unless you worship a virgin, then just masturbate and offer up your own fluids). To make oral sex extra special, work in tandem and go for 69–a very magical number.

Flavored lubricants can be used to enhance the experience, or you can raid your kitchen for suitable flavors. Unsolidified Jell-o works well, as does jellies, syrups, and live yogurt, particularly if you’re putting flavors in a vagina. I would recommend being careful introducing foreign liquids to your or a partner’s vagina because of the risk of infection. Live yogurt, however, is relatively safe since it can be used to make a home remedy to combat yeast infections. Edible underwear and lingerie, which adds the same sort of excitement as flavored lubricants, can be be made with fruit leather (more commonly known as fruit roll-ups). Some of the commercial fruit leather now come with cut-outs, which can add a sweet cuteness to your ritual. I personally like the ones with star cut-outs because of course my vagina should be the star of the ritual!

Body altars are a fun way to mix sex, food, Paganism, and BDSM. This can be done with just partners, but it’s more fun if it’s in a group situation. First choose a person to be the altar. It’s nice if this person has showered (Eating off dirty people is like eating off of the floor. Unless you’re playing bitch, it’s not a lot of fun.).

It’s ideal if this person is the altar for the entire ritual, as was discussed in the bastinado entry. The possibilities are fairly endless. For beginners, the cakes can be eaten off of the person and body shots (or non-alcoholic juice shooters) can be used for the ale. To make things more interesting and to add in more magic, the body altar can be turned into a cake. Coat the body with frosting and then decorate. Icing can be used to apply sigils

A variation on the body cake idea is a body mandala. A mandala is an intricate, often symmetrical design that is created to be used as a meditation aid with the understanding that it will be destroyed after creation. Often the creation of the mandala is part of the meditation. With a corporal mandala, icing, whipped cream, honey and other syrups, colored sugar and sprinkles, and pretty much anything edible can be placed on the person’s flat body in intricate, symmetrical patterns. Once the design is completed, the participants can engage in a free form meditation that is then continued as the mandala is consumed.
Funky Foodie Blog

When planning out your cakes and ale with a body altar, don’t forget about the supposed aphrodisiac effects of seafood. Oysters, sushi, sardines, and other maritime delights can be put on the menu. If you’re doing a love spell, especially one that invokes Aphrodite, scallops would be an appropriate choice since she rode the waves on a scallop shell. Raw seafood, like oysters, will be covered more in depth in an upcoming entry in this series.
With body altars and mandalas, don’t forget the emotional and spiritual needs of the person whose body is being used. This type of service brings along its own meditations and spiritual insights for the person, and the altar should be encouraged to share his/her experience after or during the ritual.

My favorite way to incorporate food into ritual is through S&M and bondage. Here, as with the other suggestions, there are infinite possibilities and combinations. As the above photo suggests, hot sauce is always a favorite, although beware of putting hot sauce on delicate surfaces as it’s very caustic. However, the capsicum in hot peppers, when ingested, triggers your brain to produce endorphins–the same chemical that is produced during sex and BDSM play.
A sweet way to incorporate some kink with food is with licorice and Twizzlers. There’s a reason why licorice is often described as being in ‘ropes’ or ‘whips’. Long strands of the candies can be used for edible (but not durable) bondage, and the strands sting more than you may imagine. Single strands can be used, like you would a belt, or multiple strands can be used together as an edible scourge. While candy is nice, I usually need something more spicy and stout. Long meat sticks, like Slim Jims, fits this need. Meat sticks have more of a thud than the candy, but are still flexible enough not to break easily. I prefer to use the Jack Links meat sticks because they are a little thicker than Slim Jims, can when applied in rapid succession are strong enough to take your breath away and leave vivid marks.

Food, probably for eternity, has been used as marital aids. Just think about the shape of a carrot or cucumber. Just like shepherds with their sheep, I hear that vegetable farmers, particularly watermelon farmers, enjoy a little veggie love from time to time. One of my readers, when she learned of my research into this field, directed me to Homemade Sex Toys.com . This site has a plethora of ideas and how-tos. I’ll be reviewing the full blog in a future entry.
Language of Flower correspondences for fruits, vegetable, herbs,nuts, and spices
Allspice,  Compassion          AlmondIndiscretion                    AppleTemptation
BasilHatred                     Currants,  You please all                Corn,  Riches
CitronIll-natured beauty, sadness                                         ClovesDignity
Saffron,  Mirth                    FigProlific                                 FilbertReconciliation
FennelWorthy of all praise, Strength                                    GooseberryAnticipation
LettuceColdheartedness            LemonZest                       MintVirtue
MushroomSuspicion                  OreganoBirth                    Plum,  Privation
PersimmonBury me amid nature’s beauties                          ParsleyFestivity
PomegranateFoolishness                   Pineapple,You are Welcome, You are perfect                    
Peach,  Your qualities, like your charms, are unequalled                     PearAffection
RaspberryRemorse                        RhubarbAdvice                         RocketRivalry
RosemaryRemembrance                Strawberry,  Perfect goodness
SageEsteem, Health                     SpearmintWarmth of sentiment            ThymeActivity
TurnipCharity                               TruffleSurprise                                   WalnutIntellect



As with any sort of S&M and or sex ritual, be responsible.  Use safe words and condoms and respect boundaries.  No under aged participants or spectators.  Outdoor sex should be on private property.  Bondage should allow for blood flow.  If you break skin, use first aid to treat it and clean your equipment properly.  And for heaven’s sake, avoid the spine and kidney area!

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