Erotica and other writings...
from the
Australian Witches Network

During 1998, a thread began on the Australian Witches Network mailing list. People began sending in erotica - short stories and poetry with Pagan themes. Actually it was quite a controversial thread in some ways, with people complaining about "dirty" stories (really, they were Pagans!) and concern about the younger people on the list. Actually one of the pieces here comes from a very talented young man who was only 16 at the time... Here is a little bit of Australian witches' history; something that I felt was significant because we were a bunch of diverse witchy people, using our creativity, sharing it with each other and enjoying not only the writings but the arguments that went down with them! We may not be the best writers in the world, but we are some of the nicest.

I decided to ask the authors of the stories and poems for their permission to publish them here on my web site. As far as I can remember, everyone here has given permission for their work to be used, and credit has been given to everyone. Of course, there are so many stories that it will take me quite some time to have them all here, but I begin with these. Not all of them are erotica (sorry to disappoint) but they are all from the members of the AWN. In some places I have made some minor spelling or punctuation changes, and have occasionally left some of the comments made with the pieces... Just click on the menu item to read our work and enjoy! Thanks to everyone who appears here for your permission to publish your work for the world to see.

Writings from the Australian Witches' Network

To subscribe to the Australian Witches Network mailing list, go to http://www.onelist.com and search for AWN or Australian Witches Network.

Untitled short fiction
by Nepholae Besom

I awoke suddenly, the sounds of the bush coming to life penetrating the walls of our tiny cabin. I listened intently as small things rustled and cavorted in the brittle undergrowth. I felt the presence of larger things as they tested their wings for silent deadly flight. Tea trees, gnarled and twisted, stirred and whispered ancient tales never before heard in the light of day. A fickle wind ran with the tale and spread it like ripples upon a lake throughout the expectant night.

I lay there and watched you sleep. I experienced the rise and fall of your chest under my hand, and felt your love. But tonight, stirred by the thoughts of another, I left the warmth of our bed. I looked longingly at your breasts, ran my finger suggestively across your nipples, and became instantly aroused as you smiled, murmured, and arched cat-like in your sleep. My lips grazed your cheek before I drew my robe around myself and headed out the door. Tonight I would be loved by another, driven to the heights and ecstasy, and explode in the warmth of her passion and desire.

I stole out the door, becoming one with the night. Like a big brother, it enveloped me, protected and shielded me. I basked in the camaraderie of the night; rediscovering its joys like old school friends too-long parted. Before long I came to the clearing. Without trepidation, I plunged ahead, knowing she would be there. Disappointment was not to be my companion tonight.

She smiled wordlessly at me, intent and love clearly etched on her face. In her presence, there could be no others. No words were needed as my robe fell to my feet and we gazed upon each other in adoration. I could feel her physical presence from across the clearing. She stood before me, naked, glowing in ethereal beauty. I was moved to tears by her passion, her beauty, and her power. I sobbed openly as I questioned if I was worthy of her love.

"Do not feel ashamed," she said, "for love is never wrong."

I opened my arms to her, and received her into me. She fell about me, making me realise with word, music and touch, how right she was. Her silken hands caressed my arms. Her silvery fingers stroked my hair and made love to my brow. I wept openly in pure abandonment. Her loving arms wrapped themselves around me, holding me tight, infusing me with her love.

I felt her presence on my abdomen. She stroked and caressed me with her complete being. I gave myself over to her touch. I parted my legs as her hands slipped further down my body. I wanted her to own me completely. I felt her being on my penis, her warmth and her love. I rose to meet her touch, and cried out in the exhalation of the moment. I pulled her onto me and rode her like the wild wind. I felt her breath upon my face, the fire of her unquenchable spirit burning in my loins. I took her upon the Earth and cried tears of holy water upon our union.

I awoke some time later and she was gone. The picayune light of morning was stealing over the eastern horizon. The Full Moon Goddess had retreated to her musings, but had left me filled with love and contentment. I walked slowly home, content in the knowledge that the Goddess lives within me and loves through me.

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Untitled poem
by Lilitu Babalon

Moving under me in the darkness
head thrown back
lips slightly parted
the glint of light
from the crack in the blinds
is not enough to see his eyes

Lilitu

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Great Rite
by Danuna

I don't want to see Your face
I don't want to know Your name,
I don't want to know Your mind,
I don't want Your life to claim,
All I want is a grove of trees,
soft grass on which to lay,
darkness, warm and soft and kind,
and You to come and play.
I want Your strength around me,
hot lips against my breast,
with tenderness and passion
delighting every sense.
Goddess and God rendezvous
on a moonkissed night.
I would see the God in You,
would feel and know His might.
I send my wish upon the winds
to East, South, West and North,
to seek out my Faerie love,
and magick bring Ye forth.
Soft caresses of the night
to whisper on Your skin,
honeyed lips to sweeten You,
Goddess to draw You in.
O will o' the wisp, my lover fey,
Come to me, my Horned One.
Be free to worship as we will,
enchanted realms of love and fun.
Touch and please, but ne'er speak
recriminate or fear.
A vow we must forever keep,
To keep Them ever near.

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Untitled short fiction
by Tiana

Abby woke suddenly, her breath racing. She clawed her way out from under the sheets, the darkness pressing down on her, consuming her. A sigh of relief escaped her lips as a cool breeze blew through the window, buffeting the curtains and sweeping over her damp body, cool, soothing. She moved to the window, drawn to it by some inexplicable urge. "…Abby…" The breeze carried the whispered word to her ears. Her eyes fixed on a glowing body of light and she was filled with an uncontrollable feeling of wanting and passion mingled with an unbelievable calmness. The light moved towards her and she moved back against the wall in a wondrous trance. He was strong and yet gentle, aggressive but kind, he was the hunter, the harvester, the God. He moved towards her, against her. He surrounded her, filling her with his light. Abby moaned as he caressed her body, his touch thrilling every point of her being. The light swirled around her, moved in her, faster now. Spinning, floating, flying…loving. She arched her back and cried out as the heat, the light, the love washed over her, drowning her senses in a wave of pleasure. It overwhelmed her, flooded her with powerful ripples of emotion…and then it was leaving, ebbing slowly away from her. She sank to the floor as the wave flowed from her. She felt him fade, gently, softly. "…stay…" she begged. "…forever…" the wind whispered. And she cried as the darkness once again fell about her, but she knew, she felt the light of the God in her. Forever.

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Untitled short fiction
by Pan Lakota

I fell heavily on my mattress, the morning was near and a headache was already forming. Asleep within seconds of laying down, my mind started to drift. I found myself flying through darkness I passed through a mist filled with tiny green lights, the sensation moved me to tears.

With a jerk everything stilled, a quick look around told me I was in a grove , just like the one I formed for meditation. Huge trees surrounded the grove , nine great oaks. "Appropriate" I thought.

The moon overhead was completely full, shining like a small sun. The moon brought the goddess to mind , and guilt, it had been many months since she had entered my mind .

The moon suddenly flared bright , blinding me momentarily. From behind the huge trees , stepped three woman , each radiating potent calmness. The first of the three, was clad in a scarce robe, of purest white, her features picturesque , nut brown hair cascading down her, curvy yet undeveloped body to her waist. Sapphire eyes looked at me curiously, a small rounded nose and pouty pink lips, giving the impression of eternal amusement .

The second woman , for this clearly was a woman in the prime of her life, had a kindly face giving me a glance as would my own mother , Apon her was a robe of ever changing colours . Her broad face was of undefinable beauty, bright emerald eyes glowing with knowing, flaming red curls following her full round body down past her feet to trail on the ground a metre behind her, acorns, saplings and leaves clinging to the soft curls.

The last of all, had the presence twice that of the other two, silver hair pulled tightly back into a severe bun at the back of her tiny head. A tiny pointed nose and of extremely small frame , first glance told me old , but at a closer look, no wrinkles defied her. With slightly slanted eyes of shining silver, resembling tiny moons, everything about her had a pixie look, but in no way fragile.

As the three of them approached me , they merged, forming a green mist that had no shape but yet resembled all three of the woman at the same time. By peering closely at the mist I could see A virgin being laid down by her lover next to a huge bonfire, a small glade, of pure nature and a ring of sacred stones with the moon shining overhead in blessing.

As the mist approached I realised I was naked , not at all embarrassed but slightly aroused at being in the night air with nothing to hide myself behind. The mist was atop me there was no weight but had the sensation that it contained thousands of tiny hands, gently stroking the most tender parts of my body arousing me even more.Without any movement , I was suddenly moving within her, a warmth surrounded me. My body involuntarily arching with pleasure, now aroused beyond return and the pleasure to great, my muscles contracted for a final release. Then it was gone, the mist had vanished all feeling of her disappeared . Just me lying naked fully aroused and unsatisfied in the centre of a grove being watched by nine great oaks. A weight on my middle finger drew all attention to my hand. Where a ring of pure amethyst was apon my finger, in the light of the full moon, I could see the faces of the three woman peering back at me.

" So You Don’t Forget" echoed around the grove and in my mind, I touched the ring and burning power rippled up my arm . I awoke with a start tears rolling freely down my face, not knowing why but realising I’d lost something. I looked out the window it was night, I’d slept through the day .
A full moon shined on my face , strange as the moon was only half full the night before.

" Don’t Forget" echoed through my mind, the events in the dream came rushing back. But only a dream. My finger burned . I looked down and saw the amethyst ring on my middle finger. And in the light of the full moon, the faces of the goddess shined back at me, laughing their secret delight.


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A Morning’s Thoughts
by Katrina Blichfeldt

Eyes open in the darkness, searching for the tiniest glimmer of light, searching, groping, for understanding for the given place on earth. A heave, a lurch, and a hiss in the darkness as a candle is lit, it’s tiny flame wavering, moving, with the air in an old and familiar dance. It’s warmth and life and beginning reflect in the eyes. A distant song brought end to the starvation, culminating in a smile. The day had begun.

Sparkling, glimmering, the water cascaded down, drumming and demanding. Its wetness overwhelming. Yet as suddenly as it had come, it was gone. A sudden short scream, and deep bitter aromas fill the air, tantalising, awakening. Elsewhere, the sounds of cars racing in game where the goal’s have been long since lost. People talking. And the race continues on. Outside, the smell of people sleeping fill the void. The gnarled and blackened sick trees create shadows, as sentinels from another world. Their carnivorous whispers in their shadows, waiting for the unwary and unlucky. The moon begins to rise, almost new. The sounds fade away.... A small smile starts to stretch across the face of the moon, spreading slowly, like the smile of a mother watching her children sleeping, before awakening them. The smile begins to spread, wider and wider, and a feeling of magic and love replaces the void.

Soon, the moon is full lit, and a glint of strong colours is seen in the eastern horizon. The sun greets the earth. It’s strength and it’s filling golden light shine with an unmatched power, grace and egalitarianism. The shadows of the trees fade back, as though reprimanded. Even as the trees stand twisted and forgotten in their slow death, their branches still dance in the morning breeze.

The aura of love, divinity and awe briefly makes an impact and subtly changes the world, as time renews for the ever forward race. Human kind, likened to a cancer, each cell vying for it’s own survival. The plays and the songs of the earth go unseen and fade away to be unsung.

© Katrina Blichfeldt, 1998

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WOAD

The Song of the Antient Britons (Tune: Rhyfelgyrch gwyr Harlech)

(for everyone except Gwydion and Chris: that means "Men of Harlech". OK - Warriors of Harlech if you want to be picky)


Whats the use of wearing braces?
Vests or pants or boots with laces?
Spats, or hats you buy in places
Down in Brompton Road.
Whats the use of shirts of cotton?
Studs, that always get forgotten;
These affairs are simply rotten!
Better far, is Woad.
Woad's the stuff to show, men.
Woad to scare your foe, men.
Boil it to a brilliant blue,
and rub it on your back
And your abdomen
Ancient Briton never hit on -
Anything as goiod as Woad to fit on
neck or knees, or where you sit on
Tailors, you be blowed!

Romans came accross the Channel,
All wrapped up in tin and flannel.
Half a pint of Woad per man'll
Dress us more than these!
Saxon, you may waste your stitches,
Building beds for bugs in britches.
We have Woad to clothe us, which is
Not a nest for fleas.
Roman, keep your armours
Saxon, your pyjamas,
Hairy coats were made for goats,
Gorillas, yaks, retriever-dogs and llamas.
Tramp up Snowdon, with our Woad on,
Never mind if we gat rained or blowed on,
Never wants a button sewed on,
Go it Ancient B's !


---o)(o----

Morrigan of Clachan Draig


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© 1998 and 1999 remains with the individual authors of each piece. Please do not reprint any item from this page. I cannot give you permission either as the work is not my own (except for one tiny poem...)

© This page design Lilitu Babalon 1999.