More info about this blog

These stories are real, though some details may be fictionalized, to protect confidentiality and identities, but these are actual accounts of Qadishtu moments. Stories can be told from either the point of view of the priest or priestess or from the perspective of the client/seeker/supplicant. The point is - what do we actually DO? This blog seeks to help answer that through example. What we do is incredibly varied, depending on our individual experience, training, gifts, and inclinations, and that's why this is a group endeavor. We all have gems to contribute to the larger understanding of what it means to be Qadishtu and the significant need for this role in our society today.

Please be sure to see our Calendar of Sacred Sexuality & Qadishtu Events at the very bottom of this page!

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

The Lesson of R

The below is an account of my personal experience during a local event.

My husband (C) and I decided that one of the things we could do to help contribute to our local event's fundraising efforts was to donate a certificate for the sacred touch/massage deal that we perform. We had one bid...for $100. I guess the person wanted to ensure they got it. We didn't know him and he didn't know us, but for whatever reason it must have been something that appealed to him.

I walked into the dungeon Saturday night after bids had closed and had two people approach me to tell me that the winning bidder was R - this "creepy old guy". One of these ladies had to stop a scene with him the night before because she was getting very uncomfortable with him.

I decided I would wait for C before trying to find him and talk about when to give him his session. I also now had in my mind "creepy old guy" and was apprehensive about it.

R was from our of state and therefore wanted to be able to have the session Saturday night of the event. Thankfully C had thought ahead about that possibility and had put our supplies in his bag. It was graciously suggested that we could use one of the tables in the scarlet sanctuary to work on him, which was a much better location than the medical room which was the only other room with massage tables in it.

We got R on the table and started working. I was very proud of C as this was his first time giving a massage to a male. I noticed that he was equally as attentive as he has been with everyone else we've worked on. He paid attention to the fact that R said his feet give him trouble and so he made sure he paid special attention to them. He didn't cut his time short. It was a very generous donation and he deserved the full time.

I realized shortly into the session that I still had "creepy old guy" in my head. I took moment to take a deep breath, reach deeper for the Shakti goddess energy and transformed my thought to "older gentleman in need of loving touch and attention". My focus switched, my touch became more energetically fueled and I let go of everything else.

R was so very appreciative. (mostly for C's most awesome massage...I think I was truly just an "add on" for him) Later that evening D came in and tapped me on the shoulder and told me that R was looking for me. When I walked out, he handed me a bottle of Michigan syrup that he had made himself and thanked me again for the time. I kissed his cheek and thanked him.

Older need of loving touch and attention. A very valuable lesson learned.

Saturday, October 25, 2008


Last night, at a "munch" (social gathering before an event), I had a seeker, brand new to any 'alternative' experience come sit with me. We talked, and she shared some issues that brought her out tonight - issues with the boyfriend, sexuality, fear of her own lack of interest. We talked some and we will talk some more later perhaps.

But the hostess came to me and expressed her appriciation that someone could do that with me. "Do what?" I asked. "Come to you, a near stranger, and express her reason for being here, her fears, her self doubts. You give off that sense of safety. That people can share intimate details with you without fear of you (taking advantage of them)".

For me, it is very important to both give off that energy as well as to be that person who can be trusted. For a person to be able to work with a Qadishti and although sacred sexuality can be part of our work together, they are always safe and don't have to worry about sex being anything more than a helpful tool we can share. Never something taken....

Beginning to cultivate this aspect of myself began when I read the below passage....

“A male Tantrist’s attitude toward women is very different from the ordinary male’s. Indeed for the former, all woman embody Shakti and they are not a sex object to be courted for their favors or game to be hunted. Tantric men are neither Casanovas nor Don Juans. Even if she is alone with a male Tantrist, she has nothing to fear; she is totally safe and free to act in any way she pleases.She is respected and will never be bothered or harassed.” (Andre Van Lysebeth, Tantra:The Cult of the Feminine, 1995, p. 84)

Friday, October 24, 2008

Notes from Client ~X~ ... Our first sexual exchange

This this the third post in a series that began on September 12th. Real feelings from a real person. (All names being used here are psuedonyms except for that of David and Amanda who are ~X~'s Qadishti Temple Providers)

A great deal of interpersonal work enabled ~X~ and I to directly address the idea of intimacy during the October Full Moon. It took approximately six weeks of information gathering and getting to know one another before this happened, a much shorter period than I had thought possible. I feel honored to be engaged with someone like ~X~ who has been extremely open to sudden shifts in tempo and trusted my judgement during the process. She definitely took some big risks to change her relationship with the Temple of Terra Incognita last summer. Enjoy ... ~X~ is a skilled writer and her notes on our first sexual exchange are amazing.

Postscript 2/2/09:

This series of posts have been deleted and/or altered at the request of our Client who felt exposed (even though completely anonymous) by having such personal information on the internet. I think her shared thoughts were very valuable contributions to the Qadishtu Experience blog and thank her for allowing them to educate others during the time they were available to be read. I feel Client privacy concerns are always paramount in any Qadishti relationship and must be honored above everything else.


Wednesday, October 15, 2008

Inanna's Embrace

Sometimes our job as Qadishti is to witness, to validate, to affirm another's sacred sexual experience. Xavier, a Qadishtu Blog reader, sent me the following description of just such an experience he had recently, and gave me permission to post we might all bear witness to the power of Inanna, Goddess of Sacred Prostitutes...

Thought I'd share with you an experience I had yesterday. I was sitting in a pew at the liberal and welcoming church I attend, and the minister led us into a "pastoral prayer" that involved his speaking and then a moment for meditation. As he started speaking, I closed my eyes and relaxed. I invited Inanna to hear this prayer being spoken and to "come unto me." Within just a moment, I felt Her presence behind me. I could picture Her there, her robes white and hanging perfectly from Her shoulders. The gown, however, was open and the garment exposed Her breasts, between which my head was cradled. She reached around and placed Her hands gently on my forehead, massaging my brow. It was just exquisite. Such peace.

My shoulders loosened and relaxed as She embraced me. Her hands then moved down, over my shoulders, across my chest, and I shivered as my body reacted to Her loving touch. Then, without a word, I felt Her push through me and She began to place Her Holy Presence inside of me. That is, She moved forward through the pew and sat down inside me. She moved Her arms to mimic where mine were; She nestled Her long legs to conform with mine and She seemed to be amused as Her feet slipped into my shoes. For a moment there, W/we were together in the same space. I felt Her breasts on my chest, I felt the warmth of Her vulva as it meshed with my stiffening cock. There was a flash of pleasure, intense and gratifying, in my head and then she kind of melted into every cell and was gone. The minister said, "Blessed be," and I opened my eyes, astonished at what had just happened. I stood, then, and a bit wobbly, sang with the rest of the church these words that seemed to fit the experience so well (and made me wonder how they had been chosen):

Return again, return again, return to the home of your soul

Return again, return again, return to the home of your soul

Return to who you are. Return to what you are. Return to where you are. Born and reborn again.


Tuesday, October 14, 2008

Wordless Gifts

When the Temple of the Red Lotus attends pagan festivals, we usually bring a large (10’ x 20’) tent that we decorate with beautiful wall hangings, carpets, pillows, and an elaborate altar. We offer workshops, rituals, and private sessions. Sometimes, we simply offer a new way of thinking or of viewing the world. Most of what we do is talking, but sometimes we communicate love, acceptance, safety, and comfort wordlessly. I remember one time when an older man (somewhere in his late 60’s or early 70’s) strolled by the Temple Tent while I was sitting outside it. I was taking a break from all the people and was quietly reading a book. I looked up as he passed, smiled, and nodded hello. He smiled and nodded in response, then continued on his way. A short time later, I looked up again as I heard someone approaching. It was the same older gentleman, coming back from the direction in which he’d gone earlier. He smiled as he approached and I smiled back. I was getting ready to turn my attention back to my book, when he stopped on the path beside my chair.

I raised my eyebrows at him and said “Hello,” out loud. He introduced himself, and then asked if he could sit with me for a few moments. He asked me about the Temple and my path, and we spent quite awhile talking about that and about his life. Turns out he had lost the ability to get and maintain an erection for quite some time. Although his wife claimed not to desire sex, he still missed the pleasure he used to find in sex and orgasm. We discussed various other ways he and his wife, or he alone, could enjoy sexual pleasure without needing an erection, and without needing to pursue orgasm. He thanked me for my time and my suggestions and went on his way once again.

Later that day, as I was walking down the path from the Temple Tent toward the Kitchen, this gentleman caught up to me and asked if I would walk with him for awhile. We wandered away from the more populated areas of the gathering, and found a fairly secluded spot on the Ritual Hill. He confessed that he had started to feel a stirring in his penis while he and I had talked earlier, and he was wondering if I’d be willing to let him caress my breasts while he lay in my arms. This man was a consummate gentleman and I felt utterly safe with him. I agreed to his request by laying down on the soft grass and gathering him into my arms. After holding him quietly for a few moments, I took his hand and slowly guided it up under my shirt. As his hand made contact with my breast, he gasped, then moaned in pleasure. It had, indeed, been a long time since he last allowed himself to explore another’s body.

After a sweet interval of gentle caressing, I moved my hand to the top of his waistband and looked at him questioningly. He nodded, and I gently reached into his pants. He was partially erect, and I began to stroke him, slowly. His eyes closed and he allowed himself to drift on the pleasure I was bringing him. I could tell that he was succumbing to the pleasure, without expectation of anything more. I, too, was not focused on trying to bring him to orgasm, but when I felt him begin to harden more, and his breathing became more ragged, I followed the energy. I sped up my strokes and started visualizing this man’s orgasm. I could feel the wave of pleasure surging up from his dormant root chakra, and I visualized drawing that energy up the shaft of his penis. A few more strokes and my palm was bathed in his sacred juices. The dam had broken, and when I looked back at his face, he was glowing, radiantly happy. He hugged me for a long time, a wordless expression of gratitude for a wordless gift of pleasure.

© Inara de Luna, Temple of the Red Lotus, October 2008

Monday, October 6, 2008

The Other End of the Sexual Spectrum

One of the qualities that best defines a modern qadishtu is a an openness and acceptance for people's sexuality. It's not unusual to hear about bizarre fetishes, disturbing fantasies and embarrassing secrets. We smile, explain to the person there's nothing wrong with them, and proceed to answer their questions or point them in the right direction. But just when you think you've heard it all, somebody will surprise you.

A couple of months back, a friend asked me if I did work with asexuals. It was a somewhat unusual request, but I knew she was starting to date again (a decidedly tricky situation), and agreed. We scheduled a time to get together to talk.

I first asked her to give me a bit of her history of relationships, and asked her about her asexuality. She said that she had felt that way her whole life, and had grown to accept herself, coming to realize that nothing was wrong with her - it was just the way it was. I needed to make sure that she wasn't avoiding sex due to incest or abuse, and this was clearly not the case. She had had one long-term relationship, but it had been about 20 years back. Since then, she had met a few people she liked, but when they found out, they were unwilling to date her. She had recently met someone she was interested in, and was trying to figure out how and when to tell her about her preferences.

We next talked about what sexual activities she did and didn't enjoy. She told me that she really enjoyed kissing and cuddling, but most things past that just didn't turn her on. They weren't unpleasant, but they weren't pleasurable. She had attended a couple of cuddle parties, and said that she really enjoyed that level of contact. She was definitely looking for a long-term, intimate relationship, and felt attracted to both men and women.

I then asked her if she was a monogamous asexual or if she was perhaps interested in non-mongamous relationships. (Non-monogamy is a great way for asexuals to get their needs met.) She hadn't considered this before, and said she would likely be willing to be non-monogamous if she had some level of friendship or relationship with her partner's partner as well. We also talked about personals websites for asexuals. She had perused them a bit, but found that most of the people there were much younger than her.

The conversation turned next to the person she had recently started spending time with. She agreed that she needed to inform her new interest soone rather than later so as to not lead the other person on. I said that while asexuality was definitely not a disease, it was similar to having an STD: it was important to be honest with people a few dates in if it felt like things were going places. It was true that some people would automatically say no, but others would not have a problem with her needs (though it would definitely narrow her pool of available candidates quite a bit). While this need probably seems strange to many, it's not too different than what other single people experience as they go through life and find that their tastes and preferences have become more refined and discerning.

When we ended our conversation, she finally decided that she was going to have a few more dates before having "the talk." A couple of weeks later, she told me that she had never actually broached the subject; she had determined somewhat naturally that there were other, more important incompatibilities.

It is likely that we will work together further and do some role-playing to give her an opportunity to practice "the talk" and perhaps strategize for how to find people to date. Regardless, though, she told me that it felt really good to be able to have an conversation about a part of her life she normally kept hidden from those around her.

This is the gift of the qadishtu: acceptance as complete, whole, worthy, lovable human beings, regardless of where our desires may fall on the sexual spectrum.

Friday, October 3, 2008

Is this love?

People tell me I'm not tender enough...but I can tell you, I feel deeply for everyone, especially the most vulnerable. The reason I've never really enjoyed BDSM is because to me it's an artificial enactment of reality. The way I see it, reality is far more intense ... and dealing with the REAL can be a far greater adventure. It's possible to be Qadishtu with people you don't know, when they least expect it.

For example the time David and I took a couple to a dungeon. Going there was an event for them in itself, however, my girlfriend also wanted an experience as a Dominant. I looked at the small crowd lingering in GD's expanded loft space, and saw three people standing by the juice bar. David will tell you the backstory about the man he was mentoring here, who was a survivor of sexual abuse, and his wife who wanted to help. To get him more in touch with his triggers we brought them to a dungeon where his wife would assist me with a scene. Once there, I noticed a couple by the bar who was with a middle-aged "dweeby" character standing somewhere around 5' 5' tall, weighing maybe 145 pounds.

The Dom trainee wife that came with us watched me as I approached the three to say hi. They returned my salutation and we established it was ok for me to join them. I turned to the little man and moved my face very close to his and asked him if he'd ever been here before. He was noticably breaking out in a sweat, probably because at that moment I was unbuckling his belt. I looked back at the couple that was with them and their eyes were turning into Big Round O's. Seeing nobody was disturbed by my aggressions, I turned my attention back to my little man, unsnapped his pants and undid his zipper. "Are you married?" I asked. He whispered "yes..." "My name is Mistress. Yes, what?" "Yes, Mistress," he said.

"Excellent." I glanced back at the couple as I put my hand down his pants to stroke his cock and seeing they were laughing I asked, "How long have you been married?" By now he was squeaking "25 years," he said. "25 years!" I responded. "How wonderful. Do you have children?" Again checking in with his friends who were happy they had front row seats I was encouraged. His cock was getting a little harder, but still weak. The topic of conversation wasn't the most erotic and it's difficult being exhibited in front of your friends for the first time. "Yes." "Yes? yes what?" I said smiling, my lips brushing his." Breathing hard, he said softly, "Yes, Mistress." The Mistress label needed to be incorporated to establish with both him and his friends that this was not violating his home and family. It was an adventure, nothing more.

"You are a nice man," I said. "I believe we can do something together that you will remember for a long, long time. Would you like that?" The couple was probably more engaged than he was as my hand was noticably and continuously stroking his member. "Yes, Mistress." He said.

The bar area was at the center of two other rooms. The flanking areas were full of equipment that could be used to hang, spank, cage, victims -- a virtual BDSM playground. To our left was a table with ropes clearly used for bondage. I took his hand, motioned my girlfriend to follow and led them through the door. He stood by the table as I pulled down his pants. By this time his cock was hard and standing perpendicular to his body even as he was feeling awkward while I was making our preparations. He thought he'd pull up his pants. "Are you sure you want to do that?" He looked at me. "I can stop this right now if it bothers you." Immediately pulling his pants back down he stood somewhat patiently while I finished stringing the ropes for him to lie down.

I blindfolded him and tied him to the table -- slowly -- laboriously. He was shaking as I sucked his cock. He didn't maintain a hardon. He didn't cum. He was scared. I motioned my friend to straddle his face, her leather covered pussy hovering inches from his face. I suddenly snapped off the blindfold. He turned sheet white as his eyes focusing upward -- "Oh my GOD!" he said.

She moved back, I kissed him, untied him, let him rise and pull up his pants. He had tears in his eyes, as he said "Thank you, Mistress" and handed me his business card. "Call me ok?" he asked.

It's not always about the cumming -- is it?