while I fall asleep, I’ll feel your hands slip up my shorts and I’ll wiggle towards you. still appearing asleep I’d slightly spread my legs open, you’d assume I’m just getting comfortable for sleep.
You stop and look at me, making sure I’m asleep. My pussy immediately starts becoming wet, I can’t stop how I’m feeling at this moment. The thought of you disrespecting my body, me… using me. It’s so taboo yet so flattering.. I stay still waiting for you to put your hand back where it was. I feel you caressing my thighs, slowly up to my pussy.. slowly rubbing my clit back and forth, trying to get an arousal out of me..
It worked. I moan softly, I wanna show him I want more… I notice his pants are already off so I know there’s more to come. My pussy is craving his cock and he knows it, I see him lick his fingers… he’s loving that sweet little young pussy. He puts one finger inside me and watches my body quiver.. I slowly wake up and moan, he continues but this time with his hand over my mouth. He goes faster and I go to feel his throbbing cock. Throwing my hand off his cock and turning me over so quickly I didn’t even realize what was happening. I feel my face against the bed. He forces his cock in me, making me feel disgusting but sexy.. desirable.. I mean you did this for a reason right? He keeps fucking me almost as if I’m a doll. No lube, no emotion.
He cums inside me and says go back to bed. I sit there in awe… a cummy little mess. i say thank you and he leaves.
thanks to my dads friend… my kink is because of you
So Camille meets Victor and they hit it off. Camille’s a cutie. Wifey material. And Victor’s an handsome hipster. (Remember that fact)
So it’s all love and flowers and stuff. Then one day Victor’s pack his toothbrush, his favourite jogging bottom and eat the left over curry from the night before and leaves Camille’s flat never to be seen again. Just like that. She cried and begged and that mascara ain’t waterproof to heartbreak.
Then comes Lola. Camille’s BFF. And Lola she won’t lie to Camille even if it hurts. Because that’s what’s up. Bff will tell you straight.
To be continued.
You can follow my doll work on instagram @lilasoul_boutique
Mother has a husband and a new kid, I love them and his side of the family.
My father stayed alone for a bit, found another woman, fun fact, she came to clean our house but father did not tell us she was his girlfriend. Mother told us. We did not care much at the time.
Time goes on by, she gets pregnant because my father thinks with other parts of his body, me and my brother move as to live alone (seeing her pregnant made me enter a state of panic and nausa), baby is born. She has some blood problems, I do not really care (call me monster for it, I do not care about that baby and won’t ever provide for her)
Now, THIS WOMAN is threatening my father to take away the kid if HE DOESN’T FIRE MY MOTHER, who has been cleaning up after his messes for 22 YEARS OF WORK.
She is stalking my mother TO TALK, telling her that she needs to find A new job, and me too, and that me making such drama about the situation is unnecessary.
I was killing myself.
With food.
I was eating a lot of sugar stuff just to end in a diabetic coma (I am hyperinsulemic, that is very much a possibility.)
I went to a psychologist for it and my father said it was just a waste of money.
I went to it because my father started to do mobbing on me and basically downgrading everything I did at work.
I went for it, to detach my emotions from him, and it worked, she can leech all she wants off him and I won’t beat an eyelash.
Now this situation has me floating on a cloud, I am very confused and have no idea where to start looking for a new job.
So…yeah, if you do not see me posting much gaming stuff lately, it’s because I am very lost and have no idea where this will lead.
Overcoming the unpredictable nature of life during this pandemic.
Acknowledging that as a relatively healthy young Black women, some health challenges are inevitable.
The past 18 months, I have been experiencing heavier than usual periods (and bleeding in between my cycle), pelvic pain, an excessive need to urinate, bloating and exhaustion.
These symptoms were causing serious concern, so I booked my cervical screening, something I had been putting off due to past traumatic experiences.
Although my test results didn’t show any serious abnormalities, I was referred for a colposcopy and a radiologist for a transvaginal ultrasound scan to see if there were any signs of fibroids or other issues that may impact my reproductive health.
The whole process was mentally and physically overwhelming. However, I needed to understand what was causing my symptoms, and more importantly, I wanted to rule out cervical cancer.
To my great relief, I was diagnosed with fibroids, apparently, the size of this “potentially benign” growth was so large that my gynecologist recommended surgery.
Instantly, my relief morphed into fear. In all my 35 years I’d never been admitted into hospital. Therefore, the thought of going under general anesthesia for a procedure, scared the sh** out of me.
I became anxious, so much so, that I was happy that my operation got postponed - to avoid putting myself (and others) at risk of catching Covid-19. As well as, ensuring that hospital resources, beds, and equipment were available to treat patients who are critically ill with the virus.
It was a four month wait, and during this time my symptoms didn’t subside. In fact, they got worse, leaving me feeling helpless.
I leaned on my amazing Mother, Sisters and Partner for support and encouragement. I drew even closer to God. Putting my life and healing in His capable hands.
Don’t get me wrong, I was nervous but I had faith.
Fast forward to this present day, I’m recovering from the surgery, and learned that I didn’t have a fibroid but an endometrial polyp, that was successfully removed.
I’m extremely grateful to all the NHS practitioners who examined and treated me throughout this process.
I’m super relieved the polyp was extracted from my uterus; as polyps can be cancerous or can eventually turn into cancer (precancerous polyps) if untreated or surgically removed.
To say it has been a whirlwind of a journey would be an understatement. Still I survived, so I will use my platform to raise awareness on female reproductive health issues, particularly conditions that dispositionally affect Black women.
PS - I was nervous about sharing such intimate details about my health. However, I want to normalise women’s reproductive health challenges.
Together, we need to eliminate the stigma many women face. 1 in 3 women have reproductive health issues and because of the Taboo they often suffer in silence, this needs to stop!
No one should be judged or alienated for conditions they have zero control over.
Hopefully, my post will reach women and girls who feel alone dealing with #pcos #fibroids #endometriosis #cervicalcancer and other reproductive health concerns. ❤️
Lots happening in life at the moment, all good fortunately. Been fairly disconnected from this among other things, enjoyed lurking for a while. I’ve got a few picture series ready to go but every time I go to write I get distracted. Anyway, things are settling down a bit and I’d like to write a bit more if possible. As always, I appreciate all the messages, reblogs, naughty comments, etc. Glad that someone enjoys the stuff.
Happy-ish? story This time around. Liked writing this one. Enjoy.
Every AB/DL knows that feeling. Since before we even knew what this was.. what we were. Walking past the diaper aisles in stores, seeing diaper related scenes in cartoons, the occasional terrible, terrible representations in the media. The feeling of seeing diapers or paraphernalia “in the wild”. So, imagine my surprise coming home from work to THIS. Rows, stacks, aisles, towers, of diapers. Not just any diapers, premium ones. ABDL ones. IN FRONT OF MY HOUSE. Panic, pure unadulterated panic.
I edged past the stacks and made my way into the house, the door already open.
“Shannon….?” I probed innocently walking through the living room and towards the hall.
“Something weird is going on outsi-…” My words catching in my throat as I made it to the office.
Or what was the office…
The massive adult sized changing table replaced my desk. The pens, papers, and work supplies now plushies, powder, and diapers. The feeling of panic returned, unmitigated.
“Bedroom!” I heard Shannon’s voice echo outside.
Stupefied, I could only back out of the room, mouth agape.
I made my way into the bedroom.
The room remained the same. San’s the open, unfolded, ready and waiting diaper on our very much so adult sized bed. I caught her staring from the bathroom door.
“Shann-..”
“Sh” She said softly. It’s better for you to listen.
“Well, one in a billion. I won the actual lottery. Like, really. Fancy that? Im nigh on unemployable, no family, nothing to my name. You were the sweetest guy. You were there for me, took care of me, never asked anything of me. But… even after moving into your place I knew there was something different about you. Well, the lack of work and excess of time led me to do some investigating and.. yea I saw the websites. I almost left. But I’ve done my research, I know what this is, I accept it. I couldn’t indulge it, until now. I may be rich now, but I am not without a conscious. So heres my offer, starting with the stacks of whats outside.
We’re done. I’ve got money, I’ve got means, and I am going to have other men. That said, I’ve taken the liberty of building you this nursery. Well, half building anyway, it takes some real skill to put these things together, but I asked the professionals. I went on the forums, I checked r/abdl, I checked tumblr, I checked 8ch, 4chan, you name it. Only the best for my baby. Thats right. If you want it, speak now. Its yours. You can quit your job, you can have this. I’ve hired a live in nanny, and by the way, I have better taste in woman than you. Shes bigger than you, happy to breastfeed, and can’t wait to deal with all the nice presents you make her, front or back.”
My faced burned, but the front of my pants were tight.
“I’ll still visit, once in a while, and make sure the lights are on and the drawers are full of diapers, plugs, whatever. Maybe you’ll even put on a show for Auntie Shannon” she smiled.
“I….” my voice caught in my throat.
“No, you nothing. Its yes, or no”
The room was silent other than the loud gulp of me swallowing my pride.
The front of my pants threatened to burst.
Shannon broke the silence
“I thought so. Lay down. This will be your first and last auntie Shannon diaper change.”
The embarrassment I was feeling was thick, palpable. Shannon was a pro though, she moved through the room, working quietly, humming to herself.
“Lay down, now. I won’t ask again.”
I did as she asked.
“Strip”
Again, I quickly followed suit.
“Now, let’s get started and see if I can remember everything. A typical baby your size would use his diaper every 2 hours or so. The nanny will be here at 8 and its noon now. Better double up to be safe” she said showing the second diaper she brought to the table.
“Shannon are you su-…” I started
*hmph* the pacifier squelched loudly as she locked it into my mouth.
Laid back on the bed, my erection throbbing, she went to work, first lifting my butt and applying lotion. She set it back down gingerly on 2 massively thick diapers.
“Hmmm…. well this could be a problem now” she said softly motioning to my massive erection.
“Very well, I was ready to deal with this anyway”
To my completely unexpected surprise, she quickly reached over, grabbing my cock firmly. I instantly came, long, and hard.
“Tsk tsk…” she said expectantly.
“So ready to use your diapies already are you?”
In one calculated move she folded the diaper over my cock, still in her hand, and cleaned up the continuous load I was pumping into my thick diaper.
I writhed under her.
She smiled and quickly finished the diapering, my soft cock hanging limply, drained. Sealing the babyish garment around me. It was done.
I was diapered, thickly, and by all accounts for the foreseeable future.
She patronizingly patted the front of my freshly applied padding.
“All done” She said sweetly.
I could feel the sticky mess I made smear all over myself. It was ecstasy. More. I needed more.
“Oh…. a horny little thing aren’t we” Shannon said, feel the front of my diaper tighten as my quickly reappearing erection strained desperately.
“Already ready for round 2?”
She patted the front gingerly. Then stopped.
I told you. One and done.
“But, you can show me just how ready you are. How excited you are for your new life.” She motioned to the pillow next to us.
“Hump” she commanded.
I didn’t need to be told twice. Sucking the pacifier furiously I began to position myself.
“Ah, ah, ah… I think babies want a nice, squishy, wet diaper to hump. Don’t they?”
My bladder released immediately, flooding my dry thirsty padding. I could feel the inner diaper swell, expand, and droop slightly. Although none of the outside diaper was wet, the expanding caused the outside diaper to fill out. The effect was truly babyish. I looked to Shannon for confirmation, then to the mirror on the wall. I was every bit the baby.
“Good boy, now hump”
Mechanically, automatically, and immediately I started.
It was incredible. Shannon leaned back against the wall, taking a moment to appreciate the nice thing she’d done.
It took only a moment before I had blown his second load into the thick diaper. I laid flat on the bed, panting exhaustively behind his pacifier. My head was spinning… this was real… this was happening. I closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and fell asleep.
“Wake up….”
My eyes opened groggily. Shannon above me. It took me a moment. Had it been a dream? I went to speak and was cut short by the pacifier, still tucked tightly between my lips.
My hands wandered down to my crotch.
“I took the liberty of adding one more layer. I guess that doesn’t typically count as a change per-se, but, consider it a parting kindness. The movers were kind enough to move you while they brought the crib in. So, goodbye to the old room.”
The mobile moved silently above me.
“I’m going to go now, your nanny will be here in 15 minutes and she will be so impressed you managed to keep those diapers clean, I am sure. Such a big boy aren’t you.” She said condescendingly, her voice dripping in sarcasm. She gave the diaper one final pat, leaned down, and kissed me on the forehead.
“Until next time”
and as quickly as it had happened, she walked out the door.
I was dumbstruck. It was real. The feeling of warmth, comfort, happiness, all flowed through me. This was my life. My cock strained thickly against the front of my sopping, sticky, triple diapers. Shannon may not have understood this, but one thing she said did resonate with me. I certainly didn’t want to upset the new Nanny… my new Nanny. I’m glad she left though, I was sure I couldn’t bare for her to see me like this.
He worked his legs to his chest with some difficulty on account of the massive padding, grunting softly behind the pacifier, but only for a moment. The soft poop worked its way easily into his diaper, he drooled in ecstasy as he was racked with his third orgasm. He squirmed in glee as his diaper expanded noisily. Truly a big, stinky baby.
At least thats what Shannon saw from the door frame, smiling, triumphant. She clicked the door shut loudly. Making sure her ex-boyfriend had heard.
Here it is, folks - the current (as of Dec. 2019) listing of links to all the parts of the various multi-part series I’ve created so far. Thanks to @carneliannobility for the suggestion - I hope it’s useful to my readers!
Oh, and just let me know if I’ve forgotten anything!
Stop breathing, baby. Yes, right now. You look so pretty with those wide eyes.
What’s the matter, sweetheart?
I really need you to try your best. You can breathe whenever you like, princess. Just keep going as long as you can. I’ll try not to be too disappointed, okay? I’m used to you letting me down.
Your eyes look like you want to beg, but I really don’t understand. I’m not touching you, darling. You’re doing this to yourself.
I can tell it’s getting hard for you. Your face looks funny when it’s red like this. Hold still while I take a photo. I can tell you’re trying really hard. You won’t disappoint me, will you?
Pressing your lips together like that makes you look like such a cutie. Why are you frightened, kitten? You sick little girl, look at what you’re doing.
Maybe you’ve had your last breath, baby. You poor thing, you didn’t even know. I think this might be the end for you.
You’re always were this stubborn. I told you it’s okay to breathe, I can tell you need to and we both know what a selfish girl you are. I know you’ll turn out like the other bitches, just another quitter.
Are you okay, kitten? You look like you’re panicking. Stop shaking your head baby, you’re making no sense.
You’ll never disappoint me, will you? I need to know, I won’t have to leave if you prove your devotion to me is stronger than those silly little human instincts.
Did you think when I said I’d snuff you, I’d use my own hands? You’re sparing me the effort, sweetie.
Is every inch of you screaming? Are the voices telling you to just breathe? Is my voice inside your mind too, baby? Weak, confused little whore.
Tick tock, baby. You’ll never disappoint me again.
Please can I cum, Daddy? Yes, I want it please. We can play your game, Daddy. No more orgasms again.
Singular. Orgasm. I can’t have that orgasm, can I? But I want to cum so bad, Daddy. Throbbing, aching cunt. Fuck, I need to cum.
But my orgasm would feel so good, wouldn’t it? Wouldn’t it feel nice to cum? Rushes of pleasure through my cunt, Daddy. Euphoria. Ecstasy. Release. Please, please can I cum?
I think it started as a little orgasm but now it’s gotten so big… Every edge makes it bigger and stronger, Daddy. Each passing day makes it grow and grow… I can almost feel it in the air, Daddy, please please can I have it?
So many days of wanting. I don’t remember what an orgasm feels like, Daddy… They feel like a cascade of pleasure, don’t they, Daddy? Torrents of pure bliss. I think they used to feel nice, Daddy…
I need to cum, Daddy. Please, please let me cum. I can feel my orgasm, ready to tip over the edge. Please, please let me cum…
I can’t stop thinking about it, Daddy. I think I’m starting to obsess. My throbbing cunt a constant reminder of the orgasm I want to have. Please Daddy, let me cum.
But what if my orgasm is too big, Daddy? A million nerve endings exploding in my clit… Maybe it’s too much now, Daddy. Such a big feeling in my little throbbing clit. You’re right, it sounds painful. Intense, forceful, violent. All inside my cunt.
Daddy I’m afraid… I don’t want to hurt. I think the pain is too much, Daddy. Yes, I know I’m weak. Please don’t let me hurt. Daddy, it’s not a game anymore. I’m hopeless, desperate with need.
I’m obsessed with my cunt, Daddy. I’m scared to lose the throbbing. Who would I be without it? Will I be a different girl, Daddy? Will you still want me?
I’m so scared of the shame, Daddy. The waves of shame hitting me like bricks after my orgasm crashes into me. Drowning me with regret. I don’t think I could breathe, Daddy. I can’t face the shame.
Don’t let me cum please, Daddy. Please take my orgasm away. Yes Daddy, I promise. I’ll never cum again.
“Fuck me, Father please, please please fuck me.” I’m kneeling at his feet, a wet, dripping mess.
“I can’t sweetheart, your cunt is too disgusting. I don’t want to stick my cock in that nasty hole, who knows who you’ve been fucking,” he says, rubbing my cunt with his foot.
“Please Father, I haven’t fucked anyone else I swear, my cunt is clean, please fuck me.”
“I’ll need to use protection baby, I don’t want your nasty cunt cream all over my cock.” He grinds his foot into my cunt, his toes glistening with my wetness.
“I don’t mind. Thank you Father, I think I have some condo–”, he laughs and shakes his head.
“Don’t be silly. On all fours now, babygirl.” He leaves the room for a second and returns with a carrier bag. The thick, cheap plastic kind, some discount store name branded across it, the sort of bag I’d just throw away. It’s empty. He stands behind me and begins to force it inside my cunt. The scrunched up plastic feels sharp and rough inside me. I squirm with discomfort. Despite my shame, I can feel my cunt turning into a dripping mess.
“That’s perfect baby, hold still.” I hear a fake shutter sound and whimper with embarrassment. He shows me his phone screen. I look ridiculous. Arse in the air, folds of orange plastic sticking out of my gaping cunt.
He forces his cock inside my stuffed hole and fucks me hard. It hurts. It feels sharp and rough, every stroke of his cock making my cunt feel like it’s being rubbed raw.
“Please stop Father, I’m sorry I begged to be fucked, please stop now.” I’m crying, from pain and humiliation and regret.
“If you’re going to act like trash then you need to be treated like trash, you fucking piece of shit.” He thrusts harder, every stroke causing me to moan in pain and shame.
I sob as I feel my cunt betray me, getting wetter with every thrust. Father is always right. I will never forget that I’m trash.
He smirks. His expression changes. I see that familiar evil glint in his eyes. I take a step backwards, he follows. My back reaches the wall. He reaches out, forces my head to one side.
“So pretty.” He strokes my face with his fingertip, lingering at a spot below my eye. His fingers trace an X.
“Hold still, baby.” His fist smacks into my face, making contact with the corner of my eye. Before I can react he strikes me again. He’s pinning me against the wall while he punches me in the same place, over and over. I scream and sob and beg him to let go. I can feel my eyelid start to swell, I don’t need to look in a mirror to know a big ugly bruise is forming. He’s fast, precise, hitting the same spot over and over. I squeeze my eyes shut, praying for it to be over. His fist keeps delivering punches to my face, my ears are ringing and my head is throbbing. I feel sick. He stops suddenly and grabs my chin, forcing my face towards the light, examining his handiwork. He smiles, apparently satisfied.
“Now you can practice with your new make-up baby, we can’t have anyone seeing what a fucking mess you are.” He throws me to the floor.
I crawl towards the palette and with trembling hands open it, looking for the mirror in the lid. I’m not pretty anymore. Mascara tears trail down my cheeks, as grey as bruise around my eye. The burst blood vessels in my eye are as scarlet as my swollen cheek. By the morning I’m going to look like a fucking monster.
I pick up the brush and get to work, erasing my secrets and shame.
He uses his bare hand to scoop up a big chunk of cake, his fingers smeared with chocolate cream.
“Open.” I shake my head, panic mounting inside me. He sighs. He reaches around and winds my hair around his fist, forcing me to look at him. His open hand smacks my face, squishing cake against my cheek. He starts to punch me repeatedly, his fist making contact with my jaw.
“Good. Girls. Swallow.” Each word is emphasised by another brain shattering blow. He releases me and I force my mouth to open, fighting against the dull ache in my bruised jaw.
He smiles at me and grabs another slab of cake. He rams it into my mouth and I try to chew as quickly as I can. Just as I manage to gulp it down he’s forcing another fistful of cake into my mouth, then a third, and a fourth. I can’t breathe. I stare at him wildly, starting to cough and choke when I accidently inhale sickly crumbs.
“Fucking swallow it.” He stands up and shoves more cake into my mouth, then leans forward and tries to ram his dick down my throat. I’m struggling like a wild animal, trying desperately to swallow.
He fucks my mouth hard, only pausing to fill my mouth with more cream and sponge, ignoring the useless tears streaming down my messy cheeks.
He throws me down in disgust and I sob into the floor, clutching my sore, aching, swollen belly. I listen to him finish himself off, afraid to look at him.
He kneels beside me and forces his cock into my mouth again, knowing full well I’m too broken to resist. He climaxes into my mouth, and automatically I gulp it down.
He walks away, knowing that I won’t forget my lesson. Good girls always swallow.
Today has been a downwards spiral of dissapointment and anger. First off I woke up this morning and remembered that I have to take the tsi exam(a mandatory exam in texas if you wish to enroll into a college). Fuck me. On top of that I have to continue working on the house im moving into, we’ll call this house, house #2, and the house i’ve lived in for the past 12 or so years, house #1. We’re at the “moving furniture in” stage. So I took my exam and got good scores on all three topics, reading, writing, and math. So when I get into Del Mar College I don’t have to spend extra years in remedial classes. So I get home and start putting everything I can into bags for moving. My father rented a Uhual truck to make things easier. After helping my father load the last two iteams of furniture into house #2, 2 things happen at once. My sister cuts her finger while trying to remove something I don’t remember what it was, and I get a text from my girlfriend. Obviously I help my sister out first. After I assessed the situation and see that she’s not bleeding that much I move to the garage to try to inform my mother of the event that had occurred. My mother is currently trying to figure out with my dad on how to get the couch out of the uhaul and into house #2 effectively. So when im at the entrence of the bed of the Uhaul i call out for my mother saying mom. She didn’t respond so i call out louder. Take note that my grandpa is right next to me and i didn’t want to bother him with something so small. Also I don’t belive he would be much help considering that he dosn’t know whats all in the house bandaids included and he has Parkinsons. So I get closer to my mother and call out louder. She still does not respond. So now I yell for my mother at this piont, but she is still there in the uhal talking with my dad trying to figure out the best way to get the couch out and into the house. At this piont im even clapping my hands together and yelling and making crazy hand gestures to get her attention, and yet still no reaction. This is starting to freak me out because she should at the very least look at my direction. So now I yell that my sister has cut herself and then she just goes into shock and immediately asks me if she is bleeding all concerned like naturally. So I tell her “no not really is was a small cut,” and now she sighs with relief knowing that her daughter is safe. She then turns this on me and get mad at me for yelling and clapping to get her attention and for not asking her father, my grandpa for aid. Internally I was like “Nigga… wtf.” Like omg for fucking real? She had full god damned knowledge that I was trying to get her attention even in unconventional ways and she purposefully ignored me, and I did absolutely nothing to diserve this kind of treatment, like just a few hours ago she was praising me for getting good scores on my tsi. After this I was throughly ticked off at my mother for being so careless. I never yell to get her attention unless something loud is going off that requires yelling. So honestly im suprised in a bad way that me yelling to get her attention did not trigger somthing in her head that is like. “Omg my son is yelling for me . He never does that. Wtf hes even clapping. I better see whats happening.” So to cool off i see what notification I received because I was on break and it’s my gf. And im reading it and she tells me that Panic at the Disco in playing tonight. I was like “WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.” And then I remembered that there is a house to finish and I was like “awwwwwwwwwwwww :(” So after these events nothing significant happened. Then I finally get to home #1 and plop onto the bed tired and strained af. Then something pops into my head. The other day was dark souls reset day :(. I cant play dark souls 1. My body hurts. All I can do is post on my tumblr my problmes. AND ANOTHER THING! I missed the tavern brawl and 1 of my quests on hearthstone today :’( today was a preety big first world problem for me. Execpt the mother part that was the biggest and quite honeslty the most thing that pissed me off. I still kinda am.
I keep disappearing I know lol but I’ve really found out who I am as a person. I’ll be making some storytime-like posts about what has happened during my time away! I’m not dead!!
Before I called myself “Witch” I was a strange girl with a penchant for the bizarre and spooky. Having been a seer and am empath all my life I was fascinated with the otherworldly, turning to the more well known of esoterica and occult to feed my fascination. When I was 9 I got my first tarot deck, and when I was 13 I found a ouija board in my stocking on Christmas morning.
There’s a lot of controversy around the topic of Ouija boards, or spirit boards. Some decry them completely, insisting that they’ll never bring anything but trouble, others swear by them as a means of contact with non-physical beings. Personally I believe that a spirit board is like any other means of contact: you’ll get what you’re putting out, consciously or subconsciously. Unfortunately, as a troubled newly-teen the energy I was putting out, whatever my intent, was confused and negative, a perfect target for anything that feeds off those lower vibrations.
It came through at first masquerading as the grandfather I’d never known, who passed away a few years before I was born. It wasn’t long before it became obvious that it was no dearly departed family member I was interacting with. Of course it lured me in at first with pleasantries and secrets, for weeks the contact seemed light and playful. Until it began spelling out crude and invasive comments and desires, things that made my skin crawl. When it began to manifest it was as a dark, creeping shadow, the sensation of something cold getting into bed beside me at night, and once a full body apparition of what looked like a young man with dark clothes and pallid skin, the whites of his eyes were black, and he was at least 8ft tall and menacing. It tormented me for months, it fed on my anguish and did it’s best to cause me as much fear and pain as it could. Nightmares kept me from sleeping, and I didn’t want a thing to do with anyone else, the sounds of my loved ones voices were grating and ugly to my ear. I was angry, and I was scared. I began scour the web for banishing spells and clearing rituals, trying each to no avail. The negative entity began mocking my attempts, getting bolder in its attacks.
One night, when poltergeist activity had made a mess of the room I used for my ouija sessions, I found myself at my breaking point. None of the advice I had found online or in books had helped, and I felt it was time to appeal to something closer to that unseen world. I poured out a circle of salt, and sat myself in the centre with my board. I was so tired and stretched so thin that tears were rolling down my cheeks as I called out for the help of something positive, someone greater than this darkness that had been following me. I could hear the entity knocking about the room, around my salt barrier, things were falling off of tables and floorboards were creaking with heavy footfalls. Then, suddenly, silence. My sob caught in my throat, and no fresh tears gathered in my eyes.
“Is someone there?” I asked, hands shaking on the planchette.
“Yes”
“What’s your name?”
“A-R-A-D-I-A”
I didn’t recognise it, and I wouldn’t until I saw it again a full three years later.
“Can you help me?”
“Yes.”
She proceeded to spell out a simple, three line incantation that I was to repeat that night when I was in bed, and the entity was sure to be hanging around, ready to continue its harassment. I thanked her profusely, sure, despite my past failures, that this would be the thing that saved me.
I felt her leave, she took the stillness of the room with her, but the knocking and footsteps were gone as well.
That night, when the being came back, rattling my furniture and running what felt like cold fingers over my skin, I shut my eyes right and repeated the incantation three times. The first time the rattling only got more intense, and my fear swelled, with the second I heard heavy breathing in my ear, angry and hot on my neck, but as I finished the third all activity stopped. More than that, the heavy blanket of darkness that had been weighing me down for moths had lifted. I felt a flutter of hope in my chest, and such relief passed over me that I cried myself to sleep. I dreamt only of bright, white light, no nightmares haunted me.
Years later, when I had realised my path and sought a deeper understanding of the occult and witchcraft, I came across the title of a book that brought that interaction with that helpful entity flooding back: Aradia: Gospel of the Witches.
Aradia took my pain and transformed it into power, Aradia started me on my witchy path without my even realising it, Aradia loved me before I even knew her name. And now we need her, to invoke her power and lift the darkness that covers this world.
