nebris: (The Temple 2)
~Yeah, yeah, I'm still at this fucking thing. I deleted my 'Resignation'. Prophets don't get to 'resign'...not unless they reject their Prophesy and that shit ain't even gonna happen.

I'm not sure what is going on with our putative High Priestess. She is a very troubled soul in spite of her great power. She has a lot of Karma from her Past Life and it has been crushing her in this Life. Yet it is also the source of her great power. *sigh* Only Goddess yet knows if she will be able to step up and embrace her Destiny. Or if she will just send herself around On The Wheel once again.

A Note on the Liber Sorores; while it is technically 'unfinished', it is in fact still a fully functional Liturgy and How To Manual for our New Matriarchy and should be regarded as such. If I dropped dead right now the thing is still complete enough right now for you, my Sisters, to take and run with.

A Note upon The Matriarchal Calendar; We are now in the intercalendary period known as The Festival of The Turning. The Sixteenth Year of Sisterhood ended three days ago and the Seventeenth Year of Sisterhood [Anna Sororitas] begins on Tuesday.

So, as ever, Her Prophet, this fat old man, living in Buttfuck, Nowhere, USA, will keep putting one fucking foot in front of the other until Goddess sends me around On The Wheel once again.

..and there you have it. Happy Holidays.
nebris: (The Temple 2)
~So, as expected, The Electoral Collage confirmed The Donald as President Elect, which was an easy call, for all the sturm und drang. 'Gullible' is the kindest word I can think of for those of you who believe they would otherwise.

I have been reposting the following meme once again: “No argument from me that The Trump White House is going to be a Chaotic Clownshow Clusterfuck. What I keep beating the drum for is reforming the Democratic Party so it can take on the wreckage the GOP in 2018. Because the GOP is going to be in flames by then.

The current Democratic leadership is vile and corrupt. If you people really want to create change, contact U.S. Senator Bernie Sanders office and ask how you can help:

It's not that I believe any of that will save The Republic. The Republic is fucking dead. But I do hope that such can stave off Total Collapse until 'other solutions' manifest. Note that we are already IN Collapse, but that is process, not an event, and there are possibilities for managing it, though at this point it is not stoppable and we can only 'go through it'.

I have also been reposting this meme once again: TO DEFEAT THE CORPORATE CONFEDERACY TAKES PATIENCE AND GUILE

“Do not expect to defeat The Corporate Confederacy at the ballot box. Big Money can power its way through almost any election cycle. That is not however a call for Revolution. Big Money can power its way through those as well and rather unpleasantly.

Instead it must always be remembered that by its conscienceless and rapacious nature, the thing sows the seeds of its own destruction. Therefore what is required is both the ability to survive its collapse and to have another functional structure extent to replace it. Anything else is empty rhetoric.”

Those who know me are aware of what 'other functional structure' is that I am working on: The Sisterhood. My next several years are about Guiding and Mentoring our First High Priestess into her role as Leader of The Sisterhood. She has great promise, but is very young [though also very old] and her task is daunting.

The greatest obstacle I see is that most want to hold onto what they have, even though it is fairly obvious that our present social and economic structure is dissolving under our feet. Far too many are in total denial about that and such is how knuckleheads like Donald Trump come to power.

With his cabinet of kleptocrats, militarists and outright idiots, he is only going to accelerate the process of Collapse. Hillary would have maintained the steady slide downward and Bernie would have slowed it. But none of them could stop because they are ultimately all working within the system that is itself fatally damaged.

Yes, this is all very bitter and cynical and here is where I get to sneering part. Most Western humans [Middle Class Europeans and Americans] that I've met live in a fucking fantasy land. They think that the prosperous post WW2 World is 'the way things are supposed to be', when in fact that world is a political and social anomaly.

Well, kids, that fantasy is ending. Now we are getting back to 'the way things have been' for most of history, The Rich on Top and The Poor on The Bottom, and not much in between. Guess where most of you are going to end up?

And so it fucking is....
nebris: (The Temple 2)
~It is hereby Proclaimed as a Sacred Rule that The First High Priestess shall be the first to perform each new Ritual of The Sisterhood. In time, some She shall keep for Herself, others She shall delegate to other Priestesses, but all will be led by The First High Priestess when they are first Commenced.

Blessed Be...
nebris: (The Temple 2)
~I have never been more than a messenger for The Sisterhood. I have always known that a High Priestess would be required to take up this Work, gather Sisters and raise 'this thing of ours' up to challenge and overwhelm Patriarchy. There were a few possible candidates, but none of them were willing or able to take up the task. Though frustrating, I understood. To be The High Priestess of The Sisterhood is a daunting and terrifying role and for many years I despaired I would ever find her.

And then...a little over a year ago, a young woman, not much more than a girl really, still five months shy of her eighteenth birthday, was led by Goddess to my door. On Tumblr of all places. All bright and shiny and cute. Not what I would have thought 'High Priestess material'.

But literally within a few moments I realized this one was special and unnervingly deep. You see, she has this particular Past Life, a tragic and infamous one. While it took me a few weeks to confirm to myself her Past Life was authentic – I've done several Regressions of my own and was also intimately familiar with the overall history of her Past Life before hand – I will say with all the certainty one can have in such matters, that she is very much who she says she was/is.

I use the double pronouns because her Past Life is strongly intertwined in her Present Life, radically so, and this is what gives her such a powerful connection to The Other Side. This has been a source of pleasure and pain for her this time around, bringing her both joy and agony, sometimes great agony, a wrenching torment not of this world. Such has tempered her like high quality steel...and would have assuredly broken most others.

It is the combination of these elements and experiences that gives her the ability and, just as important, the willingness to take up the task of being The High Priestess of The Sisterhood. Goddess Knows, she has shown me she has the Will for this, too.

There are many more of her qualities that can be listed; she is highly intelligent [I consider her a peer in that regard] is very well educated and is a excellent writer, she has an eidetic memory, German is her native tongue, but she is multilingual and speaks English better than most native speakers, is a trained actor, dancer, singer and public speaker, plays the piano, has demonstrated a talent for political organizing...oh, and yes, she IS a Witch and quite Talented at that, as well.

I can go on with that list, but I shall allow her and time to reveal all that to the world. And there is oh so much to share!

What I will say here and now is that a High Priestess has appeared. She still has much work to do to take on this Sacred Duty, but she does have a solid foundation with which to do so. And Her Prophet pledges he stand behind her to support and guide our High Priestess for the rest of his days.

So now, finally, The Sisterhood begins....and, as ever, more shall be revealed.

Blessed Be

I will note for the record that today, Sept 22nd, 2016, is both the Autumnal Equinox and the day Mercury goes Direct.
nebris: (The Temple 2)
~'Degenerate', 'Degeneracy'....these are Code Words used by Fascist Masculinist Patriarchy to express its not so secret fear of the All Consuming Female, the Womb, the Vagina, the Sexual, the Effeminate, the Moist.

But The Sisterhood shall have buckets of 'degeneracy', great wet slopping buckets of it. And we shall use them to consume Patriarchy while we build our Transhumanist Empire, which will have as much 'wetware' as it does 'hardware'.
nebris: (The Temple 2)
~On this day back in 2004 I first wrote the words, 'The Temple of The Pentavalent” onto a piece of paper and began to see in my mind's eye what we now refer to as The Sisterhood. I was resident in a Sober Living House in West LA and halfway through my two years of 'technical homelessness'. [I never slept on the street]

It has been twelve long years and at times I've despaired that it would ever come into being. Today, I am hopeful and will enjoy that moment.

Blessed Be....

In the Matriarchal Calendar today is 7th Novembria Oshunday.
nebris: (The Temple 2)
~It's my birthday in a week and half and, as usual, I'm not all that taken with its proximity. Throughout my life it has always been a marker of what I haven't accomplished. And when I was up at Hotel Hell, a likely flash point for emotional [and sometimes physical] violence. Basically, it is what is called a Negative Anchor.

As the birthday of The Sisterhood is two day after, it is now also a marker for The Sisterhood's progress. This too gets me a bit depressed. Last May it was 20 years since this Path made itself clear to me. In October it will be 15 years since our Tenets were Revealed to me. And in roughly two weeks The Sisterhood as such will be 12 years old.

...and we're still more or less nowhere, just a 'concept' shared by barely a handful.

I fully admit to being selfish about wanting to see this thing started within my life time. And with each birthday I anguish about not having that. Plus as I look out upon The World, I see its State of Being going in the crappier PDQ and worry that if The Sisterhood does not get underway soon, it never will....

...and this of course is another moment where my Faith falters. I suppose I suck as a Prophet. Too fucking many 'dark nights of the soul' [it's a little after 3am] and even I have been fucking bored by those – and the whining that accompanies them – for years now. *sigh*

But I won't give up. In way too deep at this point. And besides, what else am I going to do? I was given this gig via Divine Action and I know I'll get my ass kicked if I try to bail. [been there, done that] Such is how this Prophet racket works. Once you're in, you never get out...

...and so it fucking is.
nebris: (The Temple 2)
~First, the term 'useless' is not meant to be an insult, but a literal description, Beta Males for whom society and its economy really have no use. Of course, it is actually far worse than a insult; it is a term of existential annihilation. And regardless of their degree of education or intelligence, most of these Useless Beta Males are aware of that on some level.

Not all that long ago there was a series of uses for these men. There were jobs in factories, work in the fields, and wars to fight and die in. But Modern Technological Civilization has reduced that need drastically and now there are tens of millions of mostly young males for whom said civilization has almost zero use and will likely never have one again.

Automation has replaced them in the factories and the fields and even the militaries of the largest nation states are much smaller than they once were. This is a trend that will continue apace.

As I said, these Useless Beta Males understand that somewhere and that scares them. Most of them will never have even marginal employment and because of that they will will find it almost impossible to find a mate and reproduce...and that is where the real trouble starts.

Reproduction is where Males achieve Immortality, by passing their genes on to the next generation. Most would not think of it in that fashion, but it is programmed by evolution into the reptile portion of our brains.

And that is what I mean by ' existential annihilation'. Faced with the above, these Males 'know' on a fundamental inchoate level that they are utterly doomed. That generates an unthinking terror, which all too often turns into a blind unthinking rage. Such emotions require an outlet. That leads to alcoholism, drug addition and suicide.

But it also leads to Terrorism, Mass Shooting, Rape...and Men's Rights Activism, which is merely a sophistic justification for the latter behaviors. I included MRA as a kind of joke, but its underpinnings are genuinely dangerous in that it IS a 'social and political justification' for Beta Males to act out violently against Women.

When we are dealing with such basic biologically hard wired instinct, social engineering and legislation are largely ineffective. Gun Control and 'Don't Rape' campaigns are not only ineffective, but generate anger at those they are primarily aimed at; those legions of Useless Beta Males. These things tell them 'we don't trust you' [we don't] and to 'sit down and be good boys' [they can't]. In essence, they are dismissive and that only fires the Useless Beta Male's fear and rage.

So what is the solution? Given the nature of our Modern Technological Civilization, there is none. We really have no realistic ways to make them 'useful' again. It is no longer socially or politically possible to cull these Useless Beta Males. And logistically I'm not sure it would even be possible to actually kill off tens of millions of mostly young males – they'd fight back, you know – though that would provide employment for a few million of them in the process.

No, we're just going to have to ride this out until 'organic processes' – the aforementioned addictions and violence – cull them over the long run, inefficient as that may be.

That said, in time The Sisterhood will have use for some of them, to wit: "Based upon past experience with the BDSM community, it is fairly clear that a goodly number of Beta Males will seek to submit to Sisters within the context of Gynofascism. Once inside The Sisterhood, Beta Males will fall into three general categories;

One, those who are Collared and left physically 'intact'. They will be In Service as The Sisterhood requires, each depending upon their particular skills and talents. This would include physical labor in the actual building of Sororal facilities, going out into the wider world to earn money to help fund The Sisterhood and as Pleasure Servers for those Sisters who still desire The Cock.

Two, those who are Collared and Feminized. These would not necessarily be TG/MtF's as much as males who wish to more strongly identify with The Sisterhood by becoming proto-females. The Feminization of young Beta Males is a crucial step on the path to the New Matriarchy. This will begin with Transvestism and proceed through implants and hormone treatment, but stop short of sexual reassignment surgery. Therefore they are *not* women [e.g. Sisters], but only Feminized Males. They too will also be In Service as The Sisterhood requires, though it is expected their particular skills and talents would be utilized by our Domme Sisters in 'fishing' operations for valuable Alpha Males.

Three, those who are Collared and castrated. There is a small sub-set of deep submissives who desire this outcome in order to become desexualized. This would be done surgically and would be either partial [just the testes] or complete, depending upon the desires of the individual. They too will also be In Service as The Sisterhood requires, each depending upon their particular skills and talents, as stated above. It is expected that their Service will tend to be more 'extreme'.

These Collared Beta Males will be granted the title Korettes [koor-et-teez]. This title comes from the ancient Greek Goddess Koré, sometimes known as Persephone, Goddess of The Underworld e.g. a Death Goddess. By 'taking The Collar', these males are now dead to their old lives. Koré is also a Triple Goddess, Her Three Aspects being Persephone [maiden], Demeter [mother], Hecate [crone]. Korettes is an ancient term itself, translating both as "Sons of Koré" and "Male Servants of Koré".

All Beta Males outside of this paradigm will considered redundant and disposable."

As ever, more shall be Revealed....
nebris: (The Temple 2)
~I am slowly [albeit very slowly] but steadily making progress on the Liber Sorores.

I did the required edit on the Preface regarding my mother's death.

Original text: "Some may think it obvious that I have a few 'mother issues', but as my mother is still alive in her big house in Beverly Hills - at least as of this writing - I shall not unpack her laundry here in these pages."

Revised text: "Some may think it obvious that I have a few 'mother issues'...and I will confess to such. My mother was an intelligent, talented and beautiful woman who never got to have her own life. She died in a gilded cage – a sixteen room house on top of a hill in Beverly Hills – imprisoned in an abusive relationship with a brilliant sociopath and the alcoholism that engendered. In the last decades of her life she'd become fully Stockholmed by that abuse and the 'enemy' of those who tried to free her."

This is about rewrites, so I'll skip getting the emotional impact of all that, not that I've figured it out yet anyway.

I also did some writing on the structure of The First Karaal etc. This too needs a serious edit and will probably go in Part Five: “Building a New Matriarchy – Tactical Initiatives”.

"A Nedo [Nest]

Think of something like an oval shaped football [soccer] stadium, only the sides are steeper and seven to ten stories high. That is the general shape and size of a Sisterhood Nedo. Because it is in the desert, those seven to ten stories are underground, but the top is open to the sky.

Think of how the Guggenheim museum looks. A Nedo is similar, but is not a spiral. Instead each level has a balcony walkway the goes all the way around the oval. All along the balconies will be built-in planters for flowers and vines.

At one end of the oval is a waterfall that drops from just above the highest level all the way down to a park and stream at bottom in the center. This will cool the Nedo and provide moisture in the dry desert. It is part of a larger water circulation system, making the Nedo what is known as a Hydropolis or 'water city'.

At the other end of the oval is an above ground band shell shaped annex of two or three stories that is part of the Nedo's structure, with the open faced portion looking out upon the Nedo itself. That is where it's communal areas [dining, meetings etc] are and also the Nedo's administrative offices.

The Sister's living quarters face outward on each level, fronted by the balcony walkway. They'll have floor to ceiling windowed doors to allow the light in. The quarters are large and have high ceilings.

The overall aesthetic is South Western Adobe, with brightly colored murals and mosaics, all in flowing lines. Very few right angles in this structure. The idea is to create a safe solid womb like ambiance.

The open top will have both Plexiglas and steel segmented shutters which can be used as necessary. But most of the time, the 'roof' will remain open.

There will be many tunnels branching off to various underground facilities [swimming pools, gyms, 'operations rooms', maintenance, water cisterns, etc] and to other Nedos."

Meantime, I've got a file on my desktop titled “Victim Feminism”, a subject that bubbles in my head a lot and which certainly needs to be addressed within the context of The Sisterhood. I have already called it 'a handmaiden of Patriarchy', but that requires rather more specificity. Not sure where it will go just yet.

As ever, more shall be Revealed.
nebris: (The Temple 2)
~There have been significant developments since last September, the most obvious being the name of this volume changing. The original title, Her Prophet Explains, puts me front and center. But Liber Sorores; The Book of The Sisters moves The Sisterhood forward and allows me to start fading into the background.

The other change is that Part Seven; One Possible Future has been dropped altogether. It turned out to be just too complex to keep rewriting it over and over again. Those stories will go in separate 'non-liturgical' volumes. That decision also moves the completion of this volume forward, which is needed after more than seven years. The Sisterhood is out there waiting for it.

EDIT 7/1/16: I've been slowly going through this whole thing and changing 'The Temple' to 'The Sisterhood'. I realized such was more to the point.

As Revealed to Her Prophet

“I am not an Atheist. I am not a Pacifist. I am not a Liberal. I am a madman from the desert who has been given the Vision of a Global Amazon Republic founded upon and operated through a Revealed Feminist Spirituality that worships The Goddess in all of Her Aspects and every single day I do something that brings the manifestation of that Vision closer to fruition. That such will mean the end of me and my brothers is of no concern to me as I Know when the time comes we shall all Ride The Wheel back here to live as Sisters among Sisters.” ~Nebris

“Ultimately, everything is about Sex.”  ~Nebris

For All The Sisters We Could Not Save

The Pentavalent Itself

The Basic Tenets of Templum Sororum Pentavalentum


Part One: Revealed Knowledge, The Pentavalent and a New Matriarchy

Part Two: The End of Men

Part Three: “Building a New Matriarchy – Metaphysics”

Part Four: “Building a New Matriarchy – Grand Strategy”

Part Five: “Building a New Matriarchy – Tactical Initiatives”

~Part Five essentially requires more details about the various Tactical Initiatives and also some illustrations of Stage Three of The First Karaal, which I promise will be nifty.

Part Six: “Building a New Matriarchy – The Trikona”

~As I said above, I am pleased with this as it stands.

Part Seven – “Summation”

EDIT: July 23rd, 2016 - I'm still struggling with this section.

Addendum A [Calendar for A New Matriarchy]

Addendum B [The Sisterhood's Flag]

As before, for those who are interested, the process by which this is taking place can be followed at Her Prophet Blathers About Re-Writes.
nebris: (The Temple 2)
~Based upon past experience with the BDSM community, it is fairly clear that a goodly number of Beta Males will seek to submit to Sisters within the context of Gynofascism. Once inside The Sisterhood, Beta Males will fall into three general categories;

One, those who are Collared and left physically 'intact'. They will be In Service as The Sisterhood requires, each depending upon their particular skills and talents. This would include physical labor in the actual building of Sororal facilities, going out into the wider world to earn money to help fund The Sisterhood and as Pleasure Servers for those Sisters who still desire The Cock.

Two, those who are Collared and Feminized. These would not necessarily be TG/MtF's as much as males who wish to more strongly identify with The Sisterhood by becoming proto-females. The Feminization of young Beta Males is a crucial step on the path to the New Matriarchy. This will begin with Transvestism and proceed through implants and hormone treatment, but stop short of sexual reassignment surgery. Therefore they are *not* women [e.g. Sisters], but only Feminized Males. They too will also be In Service as The Sisterhood requires, though it is expected their particular skills and talents would be utilized by our Domme Sisters in 'fishing' operations for valuable Alpha Males.

Three, those who are Collared and castrated. There is a small sub-set of deep submissives who desire this outcome in order to become desexualized. This would be done surgically and would be either partial [just the testes] or complete, depending upon the desires of the individual. They too will also be In Service as The Sisterhood requires, each depending upon their particular skills and talents, as stated above. It is expected that their Service will tend to be more 'extreme'.

These Collared Beta Males will be granted the title Korettes [koor-et-teez]. This title comes from the ancient Greek Goddess Koré, sometimes known as Persephone, Goddess of The Underworld e.g. a Death Goddess. By 'taking The Collar', these males are now dead to their old lives. Koré is also a Triple Goddess, Her Three Aspects being Persephone [maiden], Demeter [mother], Hecate [crone]. Korettes is an ancient term itself, translating both as "Sons of Koré" and "Male Servants of Koré".

All Beta Males outside of this paradigm will considered redundant and disposable.
nebris: (The Temple 2)
We Believe that our species is a genetically engineered hybrid race, the outcome of an ancient merging of our Hominid Ancestors with a far ranging non-corporeal collective intelligence known as The Travelers.

We Believe that The Traveler's memories and experiences, buried deep within our Collective Racial Subconscious, have Revealed to us the following set of Tenets:

We Believe that all of our Named Deities, past and present, are purely creations of our own minds and thoughts via our Collective Racial Subconscious and have power only in relationship to our focus upon Them.

We Believe that there IS a single Source of All Creation, but that said Source is as yet Unknowable to us at our present state of development.

We Believe that said Source is, from our bi-gendered point of view, Feminine in Nature as such is the nature of our Creative Aspect.

We Believe that the only Worthy Purpose of any species is The Path of Seeking The Source of All and that we must do whatever is necessary in order to follow said Path.

We Believe that in order for us to survive as a species in the short term we must both reduce the overall numbers of our population upon the surface of our Mother and remove all heavy industry from the surface of our Mother up into near earth space.

We Believe that we must become a spacefaring race in order for us to survive in the long term, which is required to follow The Path of Seeking The Source of All.

We Believe that the Male of our species, individually and collectively, is too aggressive, unstable, and Ego driven to accomplish the above tasks and pursue the above goals and that therefore they must become extinct in the long term.

We Believe that only the Female of our species, individually and collectively, has the proper Nature and Temperament to accomplish the above tasks and pursue the above goals and that therefore the Female of our species must become Paramount.

We Believe that in order to properly pursue the above Path and to accomplish the above goals a New Matriarchy must be established, one utilizing all the techniques and all the technologies of Modern Civilization, a Transhumanist Matriarchy.

All these things have been shown to us via Revealed Knowledge...
nebris: (The Temple 2)
~So, once again, my foray into American Electoral Politics is ending in Disappointment and Depression...and a fair amount of Rage. I knew better, but 'hope' seduced me. I allowed my cynicism to abate. More the fool me...

...and that brings me to this meme I created a half dozen years ago and which still holds true:


“Do not expect to defeat The Corporate Confederacy* at the ballot box. Big Money can power its way through almost any election cycle. That is not however a call for Revolution. Big Money can power its way through those as well and rather unpleasantly.

Instead it must always be remembered that by its conscienceless and rapacious nature, the thing sows the seeds of its own destruction. Therefore what is required is both the ability to survive its collapse *and* to have another functional structure extent to replace it. Anything else is empty rhetoric.”

For me, that 'functional structure' is The Sisterhood. So once again I need to refocus upon the Liber Sorores. What has been written needs some editing - like the Preface now that my mother is dead - and obviously the whole thing needs to be finished...

…I wrote the above in a burst on June 8th and then the aforementioned 'Disappointment and Depression' ground me to a halt. This has stewed the past few days [it's a bit after 4am on the 12th] and it finally dawned upon me how I was 'seduced'. I want things to 'be okay', at least for a while. And that is what is driving so many now, especially Hillary supporters and those Sanders supporters who's turned on a dime to become the former.

But that's not going to happen, kids. I finally remembered my Primary Mantra; "It is no measure of good health to be well-adjusted to a profoundly sick society." And that's what supporting Bernie – and then Hillary – is all about. We all what to 'be okay' with what we've got...and that is killing us.

Bernie means well, Goddess Bless him, but he's trying to fix something that is irrevocably broken and so many of are desperate for that to happen because we're rightly afraid of what comes next.

So Her Prophet is back once again to where he is supposed to be; working as hard as he can on building that other 'functional structure', the one he probably will not get to see, which makes said work very lonely and sad, but that is my Path and such is what I must do...

...and so it is.

*I call the thing a 'Confederacy' instead of a 'state' because it is not monolithic, but a series of groupings that compete among themselves, but are more of less unified in their general outcome, which is to own everything and keep 'the masses' under control.
nebris: (The Temple 2)
~There are days like this, where I'm tired and don't feel so good, when my resolve falters and I see how futile most of what we do and say really is. Everyone is in their own little bubble and clings to it desperately. Veganism. Libertarianism. BlackLivesMatter. The Tea Party. Light Working. Donald Trump. Hillary Clinton. Even Bernie Sanders. I support him, but he's really just a band-aid in regards to what actually faces us....

I have been consciously on this Path for two decades now and I can't seem to get anywhere. Most days I'm a True Believer – I really DO believe in what E has told me and in the promise of The Sisterhood – but some days I think I'm just a deluded old fool.

I'll probably feel better after I get some more sleep. Sleep is The Great Cure....and my reality at the moment is I feel like an utter failure.
nebris: (The Temple 2) was the last Monday in May, therefore Memorial Day. I was back at Hotel Hell again for the third time in six years. But I was working a 'regular job', albeit for a con man's front operation. Last regular job I ever held actually.

Anyway, as I had some of my own folding money, I decided to treat myself to a movie. There was an interesting looking bit of fluff playing in Century City, which was 'just down the hill', this thing titled The Craft. I went to catch an early afternoon show, probably between one and two o'clock.

When I came out of the theater, my life had changed, though at the time I didn't have a clue. I had really loved it and really hated it. I loved the witches of course. But I hated that they fell out and turned on each other over a fucking football jock.

I went back up the hill and sat in my little bedroom tucked away at the end of the house. I thought about the story I had just seen and how I would change it. After an hour or two – still not really sure how long – I scribbled some notes on to a single sheet of lined 8.5x 11 paper. [I still have that sheet of paper btw]

As I do like Epic Stories, I took the concept of a small group of witch girls in high school and lifted it up into a star empire of lesbian cyber witches. That story cycle became Tales of the Vēkkan Cults.

Around 7pm Mumsie called down the stairs to tell me dinner was on the table. I was pleased with what I had done and planned to get some research material that coming week. The following Saturday I went to The Bodhi Tree in West Hollywood. I dropped $150 on books ranging from Z Budapest's Holy Book of Women's Mysteries to Scott Cunningham's Wicca for The Solitary Practitioner, along with a dictionary of Goddess names.

I read through them late that evening and something interesting happened. Though I'd bought these books as 'research material', they truly began to 'speak to me', and suddenly, I got this feeling that I still describe to this day as 'coming home'. I knew that this was the Path I had been seeking for literally decades.

Over the next month or so I worked a short film idea title Spirits of The Air about the coven of witches who would found the great empire I had envisioned that first day. Casting that in turn lead me to Sarah Lise, who eight months later would 'hold open the door' that brought E into my life.

In Oct of 2001 E revealed The Pentavalent to me, which laid the actual foundation of The Temple and thereby of our New Matriarchy. It was only at that point, while the wreckage on the Twin Towers still smoldered on the tip of Manhattan, that I began to get an inkling of the huge task that lay before me. The old World of Men was insane and it had to be ended.

It's been a rough twenty years and 'this thing of ours' is still near zygotean. I've been homeless and then moved up to The High Desert. The Explanation [now the Liber Sororses] has gone through three edits and is still not done. A number of Sisters have showed up, but so far only Le-Le has stayed. And my original High Priestess is caught up in her own 'issues' on the other side of the continent.

Three years ago I 'retired'. It didn't stick. But it was the only way I could take a break from the Work, which was fucking eating me alive. With an actual Path, one is on it until one dies. To abandon such it to die before one stops breathing.

Looking back, it seems like that person who 'went down the hill just to see a movie' twenty years ago was someone else entirely. If I knew what I know now, I'd still go. It is some of things that came after I'd 'rework' a bit....
nebris: (The Temple 2)
~The modern world is the result of nearly six hundred years of European Economic, Political and Cultural domination. As such Patriarchy has become synonymous with White Males. But that is really just a cultural conceit that grew out of the Imperialist propaganda of White Superiority used to justify said domination.

Therefore, lot of you, my Sisters, are understandably operating under the delusion that the end of White Supremacy will mean the End of Patriarchy.

But think about this: non-White males have had the White Man's boot on their neck a long time, those nearly six centuries. When it comes their 'turn at the wheel', do you really think they'll be willing to share that with women, even women of their own color, ethnicity, etc?

No, after so many life times of powerlessness and abuse, non-White males will react very badly to giving up any power at all, violently I expect, and will slip comfortably into all the old Patriarchal prerogatives as easy as you please. You see, all men ARE created equal and the Cock is The Cock no matter its color.

You'll hear a lot of 'aggrieved manhood' noise and be told “It's not your time yet”, which are the exact words Frederick Douglas used to Susan B. Anthony when he resisted her attempt to include the word 'Sex' [as in gender] in the 15th Amendment, which would have given women [of all colors] the Right to Vote. 'Your turn' had to wait another fifty five years.

If you allow that happen, my Sisters, you will find yourselves longing for the 'good old days' of White Male condescension, because my non-white Brothers will clamp your asses down at lot harder than many of my White Brothers would dare to at this point and they will call you 'racist' or 'race traitor' when you question them. So will many of your Sisters, trapped in a toxic mix of the Patriarchal Slave Thinking 'stand by your man' paradigm, deep seated racial resentment and festering White Guilt.

The harsh truth, which so many of you, my Sisters, are loath to hear, is that the only way the End of Patriarchy will come is with The End of Men.

...and so it is.
nebris: (The Temple 2)
~I have become disconnected from my Majick. In large part that is due to my focus on our book. The need for practical plans and goals has grounded me in the Mundane and while such IS necessary, I have drifted too far in that direction. I need to reestablish my Practice.

~In that context, I also have not been speaking with E as much as I used to. Again, reestablishment is required.

~For those who have not been following, our book is now called The Liber Sorores, The Book of The Sisters.

~In order to do the above effectively – and to finally finish The Liber Sorores – I need to get four rotten teeth ripped out of my face. As you might imagine, I have been avoiding that. However, that window of avoidance is closing. /sigh

...and that about covers it.
nebris: (The Temple 2)
E keeps shouting at me, “Finish The Book! Finish The Book! Finish The Book!”
nebris: (The Temple 2)
You and DD were in this 'old bedroom', dark engraved woods, big heavy four poster bed, and so on. I was think Haus Verrücktheit. DD was naked and groveling in front of you. You stood before him with a riding crop and towered over him.

You wore old style mules, you know with the white fluffy puff on the toes, and a pale pink and very sheer dressing gown with ostrich feather on the cuffs and hem. It was open and you were naked underneath. He had a large black leather Collar on his neck.

DD was at your feet, truly groveling, in tears, grasping and kissing them, calling you "My Mistress" and the like. He was near incoherent, bowing, scraping etc. Full emotional meltdown.

You had this hard arrogant expression, very cold and cruel. You put one foot on his back, dug your heal into his flesh

You said, "Words are cheap. Actions are what counts."

He said, very emotionally, begging, “Anything Mistress. Anything."

You said, [commanded actually] "Transfer two million Euros to my back account. Now!"

He said "Yes, Mistress," and said it with weepy gratitude, like he was relieved you had made a demand he could compile with.

The vision was very clear and I'm going to use it everyday. I recommend you read this text everyday or at least a few times a week.
nebris: (The Temple 2)
~Club Dynamic was Manhattan's hottest party spot. At least for this season. Being in the East Village Inclusion Zone – the most storm vulnerable IZ on the island – made it all the more enticing. The imagined proximity of Death was always erotic.

It opened at 8pm and closed at 8am, so things usually didn't get going until around Midnight. That is was New Year's Eve made that doubly so....and the countdown had just begun. The place thrummed and droned with Deep Vibe EDM and lots of beautiful bodies. Like most partying these days, it had a sharp edge of hysteria.

One hot brunette at the bar in a super tight black and red mini-dress seemed too calm for the place. Some had tried to chat her up, but she politely rebuffed them. The more insistent got a look from her real self that caused them to scurry away quickly. That glimpse of Death was a little too proximate.

Erika had not been in a psychic shithole like the Dynamic in a few decades. She'd grown out of this type of scene in her early twenties, but had kept coming back because it was a fertile hunting ground for slave boys, though less for recruiting Sisters. The females tended to be too drunk or drugged to properly assess.

Tonight, she was on a different kind of hunt. And she wasn't really wearing a mini-dress. She actually wore a Mark XXVI Combat Suit. Its outer layer was TeleCamo and was only projecting an image of her in that outfit. She did in fact own such a dress. She'd just been scanned wearing it and had that downloaded into the suit. Integrated into the suit on each forearm was an MRG-6, a Mini-Railgun, as Primary Armament.

Her body and skin had needed no editing however. Erika was a fully Enhanced Sister. Her bones and muscles had genetically increased density. Her blood teamed with nanobots that used her regular infusions of raw stem cells to repair and replace every single cell in her body on a moment by moment basis. And her brain, eyes and ears were embedded with millions of nanofibers – Neural Nanonics – all connected to her dozen personal on-board computers, keeping her aware of everything around her as needed.

Because of all that, while she was little more than a month shy of her seventieth birthday, she still looked to be in her late twenties and she had always been a beauty.

Though still a new political entity on the world scene, The Sisterhood had become immensely rich very quickly. Because of its foundational beliefs, it had the most advanced cybernetic and genetic Human Enhancement technologies in the world. All Sisters received whatever level of Enhancement they desired, which was the near maximum in most cases, and steady upgrades were the norm.

Even their infamous male Servitor classes were given various Enhancements and lived far better lives than the major of the world's non-wealthy population. This meant that the best and brightest women from all over the world sought to become Sisters. And no small number of pretty young men sought to become Servitors.

Everyone here at the Dynamic were Enhanced in one fashion or another. Only the wealthy lived in Inclusion Zones. The poor lived outside in The Shit, as Incluz called it. Too hot or too cold or too wet or too dry, Catastrophic Climate Change had showed up with a vengeance about twenty years ago, followed by all the expected horrors; war, pestilence and famine on a grand scale. Over three billion had died off.

The wealthy had built their protected enclaves and left the poor outside. The security personnel who guarded the enclaves lived in their outer rims, though they were well paid. Their children and those of the wealthy only mixed socially in the party scene. That helped provide the wealthy with 'new blood'.

Erika had noted those semi-desperate mating rituals while keeping an eye out for her real prey and monitoring the Hunting Trikona that also moved through this crowd. Her Neural Nanonics fed her visual, auditory and text information from all members of her team in real time. Like her, those three Sisters wore Mark XXVI's projecting 'party clothes'. If the revelers had known there was a Sisterhood kill team in their midst, there would have been a brutal panicked stampede toward the exits.

Normally, Mistress Erika, First High Priestess of The Cult of Mictecacihuatl, would not have been involved on the tactical level. She had done a lot of this kind of work 'back in the old days', but she was Upper Management now and too valuable to risk. But this was a Very Special Mission with Very Special Prey. Besides, she had to admit she did miss the thrill of The Hunt. Calm as she appeared, her blood was coursing hot tonight.

There was a second Hunting Trikona outside in an armored limo acting as the B Team, watching the comings and goings and monitoring the various Comm Nets. Plus they had heavy weapons 'just in case'.

Still, this was a dangerous mission. They were along way from home and deep in unfriendly territory. While the Union of Matrilineal Republics, The Sisterhood's 'political manifestation', was in firm control of all North America west of the Rockies, this was New York City, capital of the 'rump' United States of America; the old Upper Midwest, North East and eastern Canada. Their political relationship was tense. The USA still claimed all of North America.

If things went in the soup, the Sisters would have a hard time getting out and there would probably be an international incident. But the USA did do a steady amount of business with The Sisterhood – and was notoriously corrupt and decadent – so something would be worked out.

No way they'd try anything like this in the Christian States of America, the Old American South. Those fuckers were batshit crazy and proclaimed The Sisterhood to all be Hell Spawn. There was regular bloodshed in the buffer zone between them. Any Sister caught in the CSA, for whatever reason, would be literally be burned in public.

Mistress Eva, Erika's sister and Spiritual Leader of The Sisterhood, had been unhappy about her going on this mission and had made her objections known in no uncertain terms. But she conceded because of the nature of the thing. Sisters had died because of the Greed of Men, therefore Pain and Punishment would be meted out.

The target tonight was named Christof. He had a dozen or more aliases, but was always known by his first name. And reliable intel said he'd spend New Year's Eve at The Dynamic. If he did show up, The Sisterhood would make sure he'd see less than a full day of the coming year.

Christof was a particularly vile breed of vermin; a trafficker of curve goale, literally 'blank whore' in Romanian. These were individuals, of both genders and all ages, who had been brain wiped and reprogrammed as sex slaves. Christof's organization had become the number one player of this game in Europe. They controlled their entire chain of 'product', from abducting victims outside of the Inclusion Zones of the major European cities, through the wiping and implanting, to operating the brothels where the goale 'worked'.

It was well known that Christof's sexual appetites included mutilating and murdering goale, especially young females who were 'rewired' to interpret pain as sexual stimulation. As Europe had become a quite depraved sinkhole, his operations had flourished.

The Sisterhood's General Security Directorate were well aware of this creature. The tech he used had been developed by The Sisterhood itself during The Dissolution Wars. They'd brain-wiped enemy male combatants, reprogrammed them and turned back against their various opponents. The fear of suffering such a fate had caused many of The Sisterhood's enemies to finally let them be.

But even though he was using their tech, Christof and his organization could not be a top priority. Everything worldwide was in flux and while The Sisterhood had become very powerful very quickly, its survival was not yet assured. So numerous horrors like him went unaddressed.

All that changed four months ago in a particularly awful outer zone of Munich.

Erika and Eva had been born and raised in Munich, and though they had lived in SoCal for a half century now, Eva still loved their hometown, even if it had mutated beyond the place of their childhood. Because of that she had requested of The Priestesses of The Cult of Sekhmet, The Sisterhood's primary Medical Cult, that they create a special Sub-Cult to attend to the poor and sick of Munich's outer zones, The Cult of Eir, a Norse Goddess of Healing and Medicine.

A Trikona of The Cult of Eir had been going about its regular rounds when it encountered one of Christof's abduction teams. Once upon a time the team would have backed off. But he and his people had become arrogant and a fight ensued.

Even though these were Healing Sisters, they were still Sisters and were trained and armed. But Christof's men numbered in the dozens and the running fight last nearly an hour. When it ended, two of the Sisters were dead and the last one badly wounded. Christof had lost at least twelve, with more wounded. The locals guarded the wounded Sister and threatened Christof's men, so they withdrew.

This truly had been an International Incident. The EU could not track down Christof. It was simply too corrupt. Its leaders were terrified that The Sisterhood would launch an overt strike against them because of that failure. The Sisterhood's political and spiritual leadership was in an uproar. Even Mistress Eva herself, The Sisterhood's Face of Welcoming Love, had been in a towering rage.. But to everyone's surprise, it was Mistress Erika, The Darkness, the Sharp Blade of The Sisterhood, its terrifying Priestess of Blood, who urged restraint.

Erika was well known for her fierce hatred of men. And her rage at them had never abated because men kept providing new reasons to be raged at. But where it had once burned like fire, her rage was now as cold as the depths of space.

“They expect a hammer. Let us use a scalpel instead,” she had said. Eva calmed as she saw the wisdom in that. The rest followed their lead.

And so nothing seemed to happen for months. Of course, the EU's intelligence apparatus willing opened all its doors to The Sisterhood, which is what Erika really wanted. Unlike her more tender hearted sister, she had little love lost for her old home town. She had landed in Southern California a half century ago and fallen in love with it almost immediately.

Erika took charge of the entire operation herself and bent a significant amount of Mictecacihuatl's assets and resources to tracking her enemy. Because she did have a perverse sense of humor, she titled it Operation Daisy.

And now, on the last day of the Patriarchal year, Daisy was about to bloom.

A few minutes before Midnight, Erika received an info packet from Bryn, the B Team leader outside in the limo. “Target Sighted,” is said, along with all the relevant data. The A Team inside received their own copies. It contained images of Christof and his security team, with a through analysis of their real time positions, bio-readouts, gear carried and projected movements. They were fairly well Enhanced and very heavily armed.

Everyone acknowledged and waited.

In the two hours they had been at The Dynamic, Sula, the B Team's cyberwarfare operative, had whispered through the Enhancements of the five hundred or so club goers looking for systems to jack into. By the time Christof and his crew arrived, she had ghosted over a hundred of them. Everything they saw, heard, felt, tasted and smelled was being monitored and passed on to Erika and the A Team inside.

The club's security system they bypassed and ignored....for now.

Christof had a twelve man security detail. Two proceeded the main group into the club, labeled A and B, and scanned the place. Six closely surrounded Christof himself, labeled Target One and E through J, while two more led, labeled C and D, and two others followed, labeled K and L.

Erika would stand by at the bar while the kill team did its work. They were veteran operators and knew exactly what they were doing. Minka, the team leader, was in the middle of the dance floor. Selene and Artemis were equidistant from her and each other on either side of the main entrance. They'd wait until Target One was in the center of their triangular kill zone until they opened fire.

At two minutes to Midnight, A and B passed through the Kill Zone. They would be Erika's first targets. Her Neural Nanonics had them highlighted in red, club security in yellow, the revelers in a dull green and her team in white.

All four Sisters heard a soft tone in their heads. Christof and his men were entering the Kill Zone. Each Sister pulled the hood of her combat suit over her head, which activated Reflective Mode. They are all now effectively invisible. In the mounting excitement, no one noticed.

Erika raised her arms, her targeting indicators showing a ninety seven percent accuracy ratio. The other Sisters were doing the same at the corners of the triangular Kill Zone. Their indicators showed a near one hundred percent ratio. And at these ranges, only heavy combat armor could stop the weapons being used.

The hard sharp snaps of hyper-sonic ferrodarts pouring from eight MRGs did breakthrough the din, though only a few people recognized the sound. All thirteen of the targets were down within little more than two seconds, shaking and writhing on the floor. The darts were neurotoxin delivery systems. It cause muscles to contract so violently bones broke and it caused neural inflammation that felt like molten metal poured into one's veins. The Sisterhood meant for Christof and his men to suffer before they died.

The sight of a cluster of large dangerous looking men suddenly falling to the ground and spasming violently did get people's attention and the rush for the exits began. Though faster and more orderly than Baselines would have done – these were all Enhanced humans – it was still a panic by any measure.

The Sister's suits shifted image. They now appeared to by NYPD officers in heavy tactical gear. The clue goers worked hard to avoid them.

Erika strode over to Christof, placed her gloved hand upon his face. Microfine tendrils lanced into his flesh, seeking all his on-board cybernetics. They jacked-in and downloaded everything, his entire network configuration and all his data. That took thirty seven seconds. The A Team stood guard while this took place.

Jacking out, Erika looked up at the nearest CCTV cam, pulled her hood back to fully reveal her face and said clearly, “Greetings from The Sisterhood.” She then pulled her hood back and they headed for the back of the club toward the owner's private entrance.

At this point the bodies of Christof and his men began spurting blood from every orifice. That was captured on vid. Sula then totally crashed the club's security system. All that would be left was Erika's 'greeting' and the images of those deaths.

The Sister's exited into an alley behind the club just as a NYPD cruiser pulled up. It was driven by Alita, Erika's personal assistant. They all piled in. A block away from the club the vehicle's exterior shifted to a normal looking luxury sedan. In the meantime, Sula had borked and scrubbed every CCTV cam in a three block radius.

In front of the club, the B Team's limo was moving with the orderly chaos of people fleeing in self driving vehicles. They let the limo's AI do the driving, but Jo was ready to go manual and Bryn was jacked into the weapons suite, prepared to reduce any active opposition to flaming wreckage. But they glided out with the rest of the escaping clubbers without incident.

By the time the authorities had sorted everything out, they would all be well on their way back to SoCal on a diplomatic jump shuttle belonging to the Union of Matrilineal Republics.

Sula had received the data Erika accessed in real time and had uploaded it to a Sisterhood satellite directly overhead. The first operations against Christof's organization would be underway within an hour. And all would be completed within three days. Several hundred people would be violently terminated – The Sisterhood was making public examples here – and a few hundred more would become 'coerced assets' of the GSD.

That would leave over four thousand goale. Most of them were not retrievable and would be euthanized as painlessly as possible. The remainder would be transported back to SoCal for reprogramming.


The next morning there was a VidCon between New York and Los Angeles, capital of the UMR. The vid of Erika's 'greeting' and the gruesome deaths was played. Pixels undulated. Then a man and a woman faced each other.

The man was Frank Hammond, US Secretary of State. The woman, Renatta Sundersen, Minister of External Affairs, his opposite number in the Union of Matrilineal Republics' government.

They looked similar in their different ways, short professional haircuts and expensive business suits. Hammond was more 'masculine' of course. Sundersen's haircut was more 'feminine' and her suit was clearly of The Sisterhood's style, with the Star, V and Wreath pin on her lapel.

She had known Hammond for over four decades from when she herself was a US Foreign Service Officer. That made their conversation familiarly confrontational.

Hammond looked tired and angry. “That is clear evidence of a violation of U.S. Sovereignty and the commission of what is effectively a terrorist act by a high ranking member of The Sisterhood's leadership,” he said. “What in God's name was she thinking, Renatta?”

“More like Goddess' Name, Frank, and you know which one.”

Hammond flinched slightly at that remark. Sundersen knew she had the advantage over him. She was sure he'd been up celebrating until last last night, while she was well rested, the Sisterhood's New Year's celebration, The Festival of The Turning, being five days in the past.

“I Swear by The Goddess' Many Names that I did not know anything about this until a few hours ago.” She was telling the truth about being out of the loop on this and Hammond knew that by her Oath.

“So then how do paint ourselves out of this corner? The president doesn't want a war, cold or hot,” he said. “But half the Congress is on the warpath, mostly The Federalists, but some of our party, as well.”

His party were The Liberals, who were far more realistic about reclaiming the U.S. Former territory. The Federalists were the 'war party' and hated The Sisterhood. But all sides feared and loathed the CSA, which kept all this in check. For now.

“I received a full briefing on this about an hour ago and the GSD gave me some information your president should find useful. We will sit on it, so how you use it will be at your discretion.”

Hammond looked skeptical. “I'm listening."

Sundersen tapped a hologram on the virtual console that illumined her desktop.

“I just sent you a file with the information,” she said.

Hammond paused while checking receipt, then opened the file. Because of his long friendship with Sundersen he didn't engage any of his Neural software to 'pokerface' his expression. He read, his mouth and eyebrows slightly twitching. Then he smiled broadly.

The data revealed that the leading Federalist Senator plus seven Federalist Congressmen – and they were all men – had been clients of Christof's organization and that Federalists in New York's municipal government had been on his pay roll.

“Yes,” he said with satisfaction. “This will do very nicely.”

Sundersen smiled back at him. “I thought you'd like it.”

He turned serious again. “Renatta, I know it is a tall order, but could you please ask Her Grace to be a bit more discreet in these matters in the future?”

Sundersen gave him a rueful smile. “Mistress Erika is a force of nature, Frank. But I will convey your request.”


Erika was still too keyed up to sleep. She'd dozed a while on the shuttle from New York, but that jump lasted barely an hour. At the moment she reclined on a chaise lounge in the ocean view parlor in her rooms in the Cult's Headquarters. She wore a short fine silk robe of a pale floral design Eva had given her.

A male Body Servant massaged her feet. At the other end Seemkoo, her favorite Pleasure Server, a tall slim pretty mulatto, sat on the floor. He passed her a pipe full of hashish, a local Sisterhood blend. She planned to have him ride her hard in a short while, then have a deep well fucked sleep.

Being early winter, the Plexiglas doors were closed, only letting in the still warm Southern California sun. The Mictecacihuatl Cult's Headquarters, a solid mass of tempered steel and smart concrete, sat upon the western end of the Santa Monica Mountains, just north of what was left of Malibu. Two decades of typhoons had washed away most of that old neighborhood. The sliding steel doors just past the Plexiglas ones where a reminder of that reality.

The door chimed, then opened. Renatta Sundersen had been expected. She entered and dropped into a well stuffed chair opposite Erika.

“Your Excellency,” Erika said with a nod.

“Your Grace,” Sundersen replied, returning the nod.

“So, Renatta, how did it go?”

Renatta smiled. “He was quite pleased with what we provided him.” She placed a mini-drive on the side table next to the chair. “The whole thing.”

Erika smiled wolfishly. “I thought as much.” She frowned. “Goddess, where are my manners? Would you like a drink?”

“Yes,” said Renatta. “Some bourbon please.”

“Seemkoo?” said Erika. He moved gracefully to a cabinet, then looked quizzically at Sundersen, who had watched him appreciatively.

“Two fingers, neat,” she said.

She and Erika sat quietly for a moment while she took a few sips of of her drink, then sighed contentedly.

“Are you planning to share this with Saxon Park?” Sundersen said.

Saxon Park was the HQ of the U.S. Unified Intelligence Agency located in central Westchester County north of New York City. Along with the irradiated ruins of Washington, the abandoned CIA and NSA HQ's now lay in the Disputed Territories between the USA and the CSA.

Erika sighed a bit. “I thought it best to leave that to President DeKay. It might ding the relationship with the GSD a bit, but they'll have to understand the security protocols in this situation. The Federalists have their own people in the agency after all.”

Erika gave Sundersen a thoughtful look. “Forgive me for dropping that bomb in your lap,” she said.

“Sundersen smiled, nodded, “No forgiveness necessary, your Grace. That nasty little fucker required a public execution. Besides, that's what y'all pay me for.”

Erika flinched as the Body Servant worked a painful spot. He did not pause at all. Everyone knew she had a high pain tolerance.

Sundersen finished her drink, stood. “I expect you're rather done in by all of this, so I'll leave you be.”

“Thank you for coming by, your Excellency,” said Erika.

Sundersen made a slight bow. “It was my pleasure, your Grace.” She then exited.

Erika sighed deeply, motioned the Body Servant to stop. “Thank you,” she said.

He bowed deeply. “I live to Serve, Mistress.” Then he exited.

“Seemkoo,” she said languidly, pulling her robe open and spreading her legs. “Come here and prepare me.”

He smiled softly, his shorts bulging. “I live to Serve, Mistress,” he said, then brought his tongue and fingers down between her thighs. Erika gasped lightly, arched her back. All would soon be right in her world.


nebris: (Default)
The Divine Mr. M

June 2017

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