Teenage suburban sex magick
Aug. 27th, 2004 01:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jack_babalon"For I am the first and the last.
I am the honored and the scorned,
I am the harlot and the holy one.
I am the wife and the virgin.
I am the mother and the daughter.
I am the members of my mother"
---Thunder perfect mind(excerpt);Nag Hammadi poem
"None shall resist thee, whom I lovest. Though they call thee harlot and whore, shameless, false, evil, these words shall be blood in their mouths, and dust thereafter."
---liber 49, verse 41, Jack Parsons
I strain hard against the cuffs until my hands go numb. The headboard rattles a bit and the mattress gives off a coy squeek but the steel holds firm against the bars. I give up once I feel the tingling shoot down my arms. She's got me. Nothing for the fly to do now but wait patiently in the spiders web. I look around for the hundreth time in the last few minutes. Stapled punk flyers and album covers scatter shot across the walls glowing red with the Christmas tree lights that line the perimeter of her ceiling. The terrain of her room is a series of small hills made out of dirty and clean clothes which seem to rise out of the sea of biege carpet where compacts,lipstick tubes,loose change, cassette cases, magazines and books float in the crimson haze around them while day glo stars you buy by the dozen at the local hedshop form odd constellations above it all. I try to count the stars to keep my brain busy. I give up on the fifth try.I'd call out to her- but her stockings are still wrapped around my mouth- bitter taste of sweaty torn nylon that I bite down on- I almost gag a few times in brief flashes of panic but then I remember to calm the fuck down and breathe through my nose with measured breaths.
These are the last moments of my virginity. 17 years ago
cuffed and stripped and spread out on her mattress like a banquet or a last meal. She has finger painted a war mask upon my face with her menstrual blood dipping and dripping from the palette of her lap, dabbing me with dots and making quick storkes under my eyelids, delicately adorning me with some symbol on my forehead, telling me not to move when I start to get restless When I start to sweat the mask melts and flows stinging my eyes and everything gets a bit blurry -Finally she gags me so I can't taste her (Yet) or call for help- she tells me why she's doing all this: It's a ritual see! It's the only time in my life sex will be this scary therefore this powerful, she goes on and I try to calm my hormones and adrenalin to hear her say something about transistional states and ghost lands. I try to pay attention but it's not sticking, it's like trying to control a dream. Besides that I've got strange goat gods having a hoe down inside me: FEAR!PANIC!LUST! Meanwhile I can hear the laughtrack of the TV downstairs her parents laughing innanely along,too drunk or too stupid to care what we're doing up here. When she returns she slips out of her bathrobe and then strips off her panties and bra wearing nothing but a smile and the glow of her red room.
She asks
"Are you ready?"
I breathe deep. Think long and hard.
I shake my head NO!
"Good" she smiles and she closes the door behind her.
And the spider comes down the web for me.
I am the honored and the scorned,
I am the harlot and the holy one.
I am the wife and the virgin.
I am the mother and the daughter.
I am the members of my mother"
---Thunder perfect mind(excerpt);Nag Hammadi poem
"None shall resist thee, whom I lovest. Though they call thee harlot and whore, shameless, false, evil, these words shall be blood in their mouths, and dust thereafter."
---liber 49, verse 41, Jack Parsons
I strain hard against the cuffs until my hands go numb. The headboard rattles a bit and the mattress gives off a coy squeek but the steel holds firm against the bars. I give up once I feel the tingling shoot down my arms. She's got me. Nothing for the fly to do now but wait patiently in the spiders web. I look around for the hundreth time in the last few minutes. Stapled punk flyers and album covers scatter shot across the walls glowing red with the Christmas tree lights that line the perimeter of her ceiling. The terrain of her room is a series of small hills made out of dirty and clean clothes which seem to rise out of the sea of biege carpet where compacts,lipstick tubes,loose change, cassette cases, magazines and books float in the crimson haze around them while day glo stars you buy by the dozen at the local hedshop form odd constellations above it all. I try to count the stars to keep my brain busy. I give up on the fifth try.I'd call out to her- but her stockings are still wrapped around my mouth- bitter taste of sweaty torn nylon that I bite down on- I almost gag a few times in brief flashes of panic but then I remember to calm the fuck down and breathe through my nose with measured breaths.
These are the last moments of my virginity. 17 years ago
cuffed and stripped and spread out on her mattress like a banquet or a last meal. She has finger painted a war mask upon my face with her menstrual blood dipping and dripping from the palette of her lap, dabbing me with dots and making quick storkes under my eyelids, delicately adorning me with some symbol on my forehead, telling me not to move when I start to get restless When I start to sweat the mask melts and flows stinging my eyes and everything gets a bit blurry -Finally she gags me so I can't taste her (Yet) or call for help- she tells me why she's doing all this: It's a ritual see! It's the only time in my life sex will be this scary therefore this powerful, she goes on and I try to calm my hormones and adrenalin to hear her say something about transistional states and ghost lands. I try to pay attention but it's not sticking, it's like trying to control a dream. Besides that I've got strange goat gods having a hoe down inside me: FEAR!PANIC!LUST! Meanwhile I can hear the laughtrack of the TV downstairs her parents laughing innanely along,too drunk or too stupid to care what we're doing up here. When she returns she slips out of her bathrobe and then strips off her panties and bra wearing nothing but a smile and the glow of her red room.
She asks
"Are you ready?"
I breathe deep. Think long and hard.
I shake my head NO!
"Good" she smiles and she closes the door behind her.
And the spider comes down the web for me.
