… a thought making crooked all that is straight.

The mating habits of witches

“Come hither little Wiccaling…” he said in enticing tones.

“Who? Me?” said the little Wiccan, batting her eyelashes as if beating back a sandstorm.
“Hmm,” replied the magician, tossing his lank locks deftly over his shoulder.

She felt her little knees tremble.

“Oh,” she sighed.

“I haven’t seen you ’round here before. Are you new to the path?”

Her eyes widened at his acknowledgement that she HAD a path.
“Why yes, how did you know?”
“I know many things. It’s a gift. Fancy a shag? I mean, a coffee?”

Her mouth dried up in expectation and she managed but a mute nod.

Two witches stood and watched.

“He scents his prey, watch him swoop for the kill.”


“Shouldn’t we warn her?”

“And rob her of a learning experience? We’re not Christians dear.”

“The magician shall be known by his chat-up line…”

“Fancy being my virgin sacrifice?”

“Ah, the hopeful magician!” laughed the witch.

“Wanna do it with me in circle?”

“Oh, crass, very crass.”

“I have a big wand, come watch me use it?”

“Eewww. You know where he could stick his wand!”
“I can initiate you into great knowledge.”
“Yes, most likely the inside knowledge of an STD clinic!”
“Okay, so how about: be my priestess?”

“Shades of Valiente. Stamp me with a shelf-life and trade me in for a younger model when I’ve expired. No thank you.”

“So how should a pagan man approach a witch without the fear of having his scrotum turned into a spell pouch?”

“He should tell me things I don’t know. He shouldn’t underestimate my own knowledge. Don’t show me a symbol that you swear is mysterious, when actually it’s known to everyman and his dog. Show me the dark, guide my hand through the shadows, let me touch the unknown.”

“And the chat-up line to launch such a magical mystery tour?”
“Who knows? But part-time pervs like Magister Eros over there don’t even know the alphabet let alone the words.”

“You are a mare. Be prepared for spinsterhood, sister. A man of words AND magic?”
“C’est vrai. He will be nothing less than a god to me.”
“So mote it be.”

“And so it shall be.”
© starofseshat 2008

4 responses

  1. Bwahahahahahahahaha!! OMG. Hilarious. And thanks for the dig to Valiente, that line always offended me.

    And this?

    A man of words AND magic?”
    “C’est vrai. He will be nothing less than a god to me.”

    I’m there with you. There must be SOME.

    October 15, 2008 at 7:55 pm

  2. starofseshat

    Thanks beweaver. Always happy to amuse 🙂
    Haven’t we all been at the hands of such ‘smooth pagan lotharios’ in our time?
    Although … tell a non-pagan man you are a witch and you have to put up with all the lame, “Grab your broom and let’s fly outa here,” or “Witch way to your place?” or “Next time you danced naked, can I watch?” etc. etc. etc.
    Big yawn.
    Sorry, starting to sound like a ball-muncher again … oh bugger! What is it? Ball-muncher/-cruncher/-breaker/-smasher? Someone HELP me here! I just can’t remember that word, but you know what I mean. I hope LOL

    October 15, 2008 at 8:38 pm

  3. The Green Witch

    BREAKER. Ball muncher = most men’s fantasy. Erp!

    October 15, 2008 at 9:05 pm

  4. starofseshat

    Thank you. Breaker. Breaker. Okay. I will try to remember that. I have such a mental block on that word…
    Munching? A fantasy? Really? Doesn’t sound very pleasant to me 🙂 But then the recent cases of cannibalism in Germany are still fresh in my mind … eewww!

    October 15, 2008 at 9:12 pm

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