what are they doing to that poor boy

With him on his knees and his hands restrained I’ll stroke his dick until he gets very close to orgasm, and then when I think he’s right on the edge, I’ll let go and watch. I’ll wait about 20 seconds and if no semen comes out, start again. If you’ve done this perfectly, his semen will leak out about 10-15 seconds AFTER you stopped stroking it. He’ll be left sexually frustrated, but you actually DID give him an orgasm, its not your fault he didn’t feel it!

Bridgid Hargreaves
Dark Matters

where feminine energy flows

November 4, 2018

It’s such an injustice that women have been made to fear the night. Women have such a strong connection to the moon and the night is a time where feminine energy flows and the goddess is in the air. The night belongs to women and being out in the moonlight is good for the woman’s soul. It’s a crime that men have tried to take that away from us.

Lesbianwicce

The Sabbat Song

October 25, 2018

Sleep is waking, waking sleep
we ride the broom across the deep,
fair is foul and foul is fair
by bee and cat, by hound and hare,
the living die and the dying live
we turn the shears and the sieve,
light is darkness, darkness light
to farers through the mystic night,
up is down and down is up
to seekers of the cauldron-cup,
lords are churls and churls are lords
we leap across the bridge of swords,
birth is death and death is birth
we tread the paths beneath the earth,
Bride is Hag and Hag is Bride
Between the times we rage and ride,
day is night and night is day
for farers on the witching way.

Nigel Jackson
Call of the horned piper

Sunday read

October 21, 2018

hearing your little moans

October 7, 2018

do you want to know what i’ve been thinking about, kitten?

i’ve been thinking about spreading you open on my fingers, petting your wet, swollen pussy and hearing your little moans.

you let me lean down to taste you, angel? do you want my tongue on your clit, just the way you like, licking you so sweetly?

you look so pretty on your back, legs spread wide like a good girl.

SOURCE

breathy, soft whimpers

October 6, 2018

licking finger

His noises started out as low, guttural groans. A last-ditch attempt to retain some of the hard calluses of masculinity that had grown upon him.

But with each stroke, a little more of that roughness was erased. The noises he made began sounding less like groans and more like moans. More like breathy, soft whimpers, more like gentle gasps and desperate pleas. By the time he came, it was almost as if he were sobbing, crying out in wanton ecstasy.

It sounded like music.

a possessed witch

October 4, 2018

I have gone out, a possessed witch,
haunting the black air, braver at night;
dreaming evil, I have done my hitch
over the plain houses, light by light:
lonely thing, twelve-fingered, out of mind.
A woman like that is not a woman, quite.
I have been her kind.

Anne Sexton
Her Kind

Witch

September 25, 2018

We’re all born a Witch. We’re all born into magic. It’s taken from us as we grow up.

Madeleine L’Engle
The Crosswicks Journal

struggle to get a peek

September 23, 2018

Fingering for fun

I wondered what it felt like for her to be sitting on the floor like a dog while I fucked her boyfriend. She could barely see over the mattress from way down there. She had to struggle to get a peek.

She was a mess, clothes half off, grinding against her own hand, hair dishevelled, we could hear how wet she was as she whined and rubbed her clit. It was clear how much she liked it from the slick-squish sounds her fingers made, how humiliating. We paid no attention, her boyfriend and I were too busy making each other moan to notice such a pathetic girl on the floor. I suppose I kept him too distracted.

She begged for permission to cum. We ignored her.

Heart
Her Dirty Little Heart

pain tells me that I am loved

September 16, 2018

Hanging around the office

By any standard pain is powerful, but for a masochist it is even more potent. Pain can unlock the mind, or shut it down. For a masochist, it can quiet the loudest of thoughts, and leave in their place the echoes of affection.

Sadness, for most, will mean that they need to be held until the tears stop. When other women are angry they may need space to cool off. Perhaps when they are frustrated they need time to think, and work through the problem.

But that isn’t what I need. I need pain.

For a masochist, for me, pain can heal. Do I want to be held? Yes, of course. I need to feel the firm pressure of your arms around me, and your soft words whispered against my ear. I need you to hold me and tell me that it will be okay, to talk me back to reason, and remind me that this too shall pass.

But first, I need you to pull me over your knee and warm my skin with the touch of your palm. I need you to coil your hand around my neck until my sorrows fade to black. To tie me down and multiply my tears until there are none left to be cried. I need you to drown out my inner monologue with the floods of pain.

Not because I’ve been bad, not because I shouldn’t be sad, not because you don’t want to hold me, but because you know that your hand on my skin is affection. Because you understand that the lingering heat, the sharp sting, and the aching marks your hand leaves in its wake, still my mind. They remind me that despite the storm, I am yours. Because you know that the pain tells me that I am loved, and some days the voice of pain is the only one I hear.

Pleasurewhore
The Power of Pain