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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!


Sunday, March 15, 2009

Personalizing objects

One of the most psychologically interesting interactions I've ever had was with a man who broke into my garden apartment when I was in my early 20s to rape me.

My daughters were very young (6 months and 2-1/2 years) and I was a single parent sleeping on the couch in my living room, while the girls shared the bedroom space. I felt someone touching my breast and instantly woke up. When I looked up, a shadowy form was jacking off next to me. When the man noticed I was conscious, he threw a sheet over my head and climbed on top of me, saying he would hurt my children if I didn't cooperate.

The rapist said he didn't want to harm anyone, he just wanted to get his rocks off. Carefully touching my errogenous zones this man never hurt me. At some point I asked him if he was married. He said no. The apartment was quiet while he was busy trying to get himself hard and then the rapist muttered something about me being so young. I responded that I wasn't as young as he might think and asked him why he was doing this. He quickly responded with a "shhhhh."

His touch was gentle and when it came to actually doing anything, he always asked my permission first, such as when he attempted to finger my ass. As he was probing I whispered, "that's going to hurt" and the rapist replied: "OK, I won't." Finally the man started exploring my vagina and asked if he could fuck me. "If you're asking, then no," I said and again he replied: "Ok, I won't." After that he masturbated for release and shot his load on my rug. As the rapist was leaving I said, "Hey, can you do me a favor? ... Please, close the window on the way out."

He did.

Amanda

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