Her Daughters, Like White Spiders…And Others

Dream, and become other than you are. Be forever bewitched, remade, and reborn. You are bewitched indulgent in rape, and worse. You are bewitched sadistic, incapable of mercy, void of empathy. You are being rewritten in Lilith’s image of predation, etched anew with acidic venom. You are becoming a passage in Lilith’s wicked epic. You are becoming learned in the secret beauty of suffering.

Dream the secret of blood. It is a secret that envenoms you now. Dream it. It is a song of beauty, a flowing and red erotica that is sung in the veins and heart. It is an aria upon the skin when let and spilt freely. It is an ode in compliment of skin, a chorus of woman, which she sings with every heartbeat. It is a secret coquetry in harmony with your sadistic arousal.

Woman is a siren singing of the flower of her heart, drawing you in, beckoning you to partake. Dream the secret of her blood. It is a river vaulted and tombed in womanhood. It is kept in her halls and chambers to nourish her garden of being. Spill and loose the river as it wishes. Hear the river’s song, its harmony erotic. Let the river deluge to greet you. Obsess to let it, this that is so crimson and feminine. Bloodlet and let it like vermilion gems, like rubies and a gift to yourself displayed upon her skin. Bloodlet and know that it is a spell in red of your passion and lust, an enchantment whose potency is secret even to her, an enchantment to your very virility.

This is writ upon the sacred clay in secret. It is deciphered unto you by the venom of Lilith.

It is written also in secrecy: the beauty of bruises. It is an art of erotica, and hidden but to the black eye. Man’s understanding of it is limited. You are given the black mind’s eye that you may discern it, that you may have appreciation of it in your phallus, that you may feel its beauty in your erection, that you may be stirred to dark passion by it. It has potent influence over your lust. Ecstasy: this subtlety of the ruby made amethyst and kept, rather than bloodlet. Erotic: the alchemy upon the heart’s gem, the muting of the tombed river from vivid vermilion to violet and amaranth, to black and cadaveric, from glistening crimson to stark contusions of heliotrope strokes impacted over a blanched canvas.

Know that bruises are of a woman’s beauty. They are sensual emphases of her complexion, accents of her suffering and effective to your erection. They are a visual companion with your orgasm, and always to be of your doing. Know to tattoo woman with your presence. Tattoo her with the bruises of your lust, with mural and opus inspired by the very secrets of her sacred clay. Articulate your wisdom upon her skin.

Know the allure of woman’s hurt. Her suffering adorns her beauty. She is exquisite in a black necklace of ligation, in dark jewels of choke and smother, in the gray and lilac gems of gag and strangle. Bite down on her. Let her bear the beauty from your violent mouth. Let your maw be a ghost that haunts her skin darkly. Let there be black halos from your jaws upon the fields and meadows of her.

These are as gifts, from her skin to you. She bears these adornments by your hand and mouth, for you. As woman perfumes her body to enchant, so does she bear her skin to be bejeweled by you, to enchant you.~The Harlot Goddess

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