In Sacred Kink: The Eightfold Paths of BDSM and Beyond, Lee Harrington discussed how the tools we use in kink and sex go back into spiritual history, and that our sexual explorations have the potential to open us up in the world and beyond. Spirit of Desire opens up that dialogue with thirty-three profoundly personal and diverse stories sharing the revelations, power, connections, and pathways explored in Sacred Kink.
Each of these passages is shared from the heart, a glimpse into the intimate. Some of the authors have been on the road for decades, others for a very short time; some have spoken about their passions before, while others are only now putting pen to page. Through their eyes we will dive deep and find new insights into:
Catharsis. Clarity. Intimacy. Lust. Devotion. Passion. Beauty. Hope. Energy. Faith. Intention. Fear. Consent. Service. Openness. Suffering. Surrender. Connection. Sacredness. Desire. Forgiveness. Divinity. Epiphany. Love... and much more
Whether you are a traveler on the road of sexual expression, a spiritual seeker on a quest for enlightenment, or a curious creature wondering what this is all about... pull up a seat, and be prepared for a dive into journeys that will take your breath away, leave you hot and bothered, have you pondering the nature of love, and meditating on a wide variety of odysseys. Open your heart, open your mind, and get ready to explore these personal explorations of Sacred Kink.
About the Author
Lee Harrington is an internationally known spiritual and erotic authenticity educator and an award-winning writer. He is the author of several books, including Shibari You Can Use, and his poetry has appeared in several anthologies. He lives in Anchorage, Alaska.
Read an Excerpt
Spirit of Desire
Personal Explorations of Sacred Kink
By Lee Harrington
Mystic Productions PressCopyright © 2016 Mystic Productions Press
All rights reserved.
Into the Spirit of Desire
By Lee Harrington
It came to me in a dream. Let the tales be told, a voice whispered across the veil, through the lines, echoing through my flesh. Let the tales be told, it said, half in dream and half in the world beyond. Let the tales be told.
My book, Sacred Kink: The Eightfold Paths of BDSM and Beyond, had just escaped out into the world, carrying my own thoughts on the interactions between the erotic and the profound. After a multi-year labor of love and research, I thought I was done for now. I was wrong. This, this thing, this line between faith and passion ... it will not let me go.
So the voice came in the night. Let the tales be told, it called out to me, and pulled me into its web. Let the tales be told, it moaned and sighed, and I felt its lips fall upon mine in the shadow, in the light. Let the tales be told.
And here they are. As is the case with many anthologies, the call went out into the world on stacks of paper, streams of wire and fiber optics. I knew the tales were out there, waiting and hungry to be told. I knew I was not the only one who had had my BDSM, sex, or sensual journeys affect my magic, affect my connection with the divine. But the flood that opened up, I was not ready for. I held on for dear life as the waves of passion hit against the levy. Until I let go. Until I swam. Until I dove.
I dove into the depths of what came and was astounded. Slices of autobiography filled me with hope. Glimpses of glamour from lives hard-lived shook me to tears. Dreams of desires painted their way across my brow and I felt myself renewed with possibility. And along the way, I got turned on, confounded, shocked, tantalized, and delighted.
Here is the child I have brought forth from the shadows. Here is the collection that I have gathered in the light. Some may sit easier with you, while others may shake you up. Listen to the parts that are uncomfortable — there is wisdom there. Listen to the pieces that resonate within you — there is wisdom there.
There is not a single path to or through Sacred Kink, and through sharing their personal life experiences and true tales, the authors in this anthology prove this to be true once again. There are more routes to the top of the mountain than our mortal minds can imagine, and herein are thirty-three of those winding routes to a vista that has been lived. These are not pinnacles, not things to be mimicked and mirrored, unless the path calls you as well. But they are sign posts, road maps, treasures along the path.
We begin by journeying into yoga as a route towards being present in sexuality, then struggle through faith and relationship identity with leather and boots as our guide. A psychic vampire lifts the veil on the line between energy and lust, while two pagan women weave a spell of ownership into flesh and astral form. Genderfucking and the roles of sex and gender come to the forefront, and tricksters dance into our consciousness to prod struggling supplicants on their sojourn of hooks and blood.
Disability is examined through context, through sexual exploration and personal ordeal, and priestesses discover their voice with a tab on their tongue and wrists pinned overhead. Sacred whores share the worst of their days and their struggle with the red light, before we turn the page and find the priest for a sacred journey caught up in his own revelation. We are asked what kind of mindfuck scene God(dess) is doing with us anyway, then slink into back alley ways to walk alongside a human animal on the prowl.
Love and kink find eloquence between lines of poetry, and then the beast comes out to roam, looking for destruction and rending flesh. We lift our eyes to the monkey king Hanuman, then struggle through the emotional aftermath of nailing someone to a cross. Sorrow pours out through moans at a Beltane fire, while enlightenment is found on the long, slow path of erotic slavery.
Online desires turn to magic through keys and blades, while across the country fists find messages from the messiah of self-awareness. A professional dominatrix from Mexico reveals the clues for being the guide along our path, while a devotee of Roman and Celtic divinities examines the academic and deeply personal arguments around consent and our relationships with deity. Race and humanity are painfully explored and forgiven, and in the shadow, many souls living in one body journey into service and surrender.
Travel to Malaysia and back to the Bay Area to dance with bells and hooks, then into the middle of the United States to bear witness to what helped one woman come to peace with her identity as a good Christian. Caring for the predators amongst us is looked at with humor and compassion, and heartache leads to two years of self-exploration and coming to a new kink identity. A long passage to an ordeal leads to personal growth and the removal of masks, a lifelong fascination with a dark Goddess creates a trail of orgasms and passion.
A Master finds faith in love again. Humiliation leads to revelation. We find safety in the arms of a service top, who will hold our fear for us as they walk with us side by side.
Walk with us, side by side. Hold our hands, you are not alone. Whether you have climbed your own mountain, or have never considered leaving the safety of home, you are not alone. Let the tales be told, the whispers said in the dark. Let the tales be told, the voices cried from the light. And here they are. Thirty-three journeys into Spirit. Into Desire. Into Sacred Kink.
Yours in Passion and Soul,
Phoenix, Arizona, USA
And Right Now: Giving In Through Yogic Expansion
My yoga practice began when I was still a teenager, studying ballet and modern dance. Yoga helped me unknot painful muscles and enhanced my ability to strike mind-boggling dance poses. It was a way to exercise and, for many years, that was its sole place in my life. I used yoga as gentle self-care after I strained myself with dancing and all of the other punishing pursuits I undertook.
I drifted away from yoga for several years until I was called back to the mat in the aftermath of severe chronic pain brought on by my overly athletic antics of youth along with a series of injuries to my hips and spine that left me barely able to walk. My body had gained a lot of weight and I hated how I looked. An eight-year relationship had gone up in flames, and I found myself overweight, depressed, and wondering if I was going to be able to walk unassisted by age 40. I once again turned to yoga, my gentle self-care tool, to alleviate my pain and regain my mobility.
It was during this time that I also started noticing the more subtle changes that yoga had wrought in me. I realized that on the nights when I practiced yoga, depression's claws could not sink so deeply into me. Anxiety could be calmed with my breath. My mind was focused and alert without feeling the terrible self-induced pressure of my life-long tendency toward perfectionism. Most importantly, I found myself living more and more in the present moment, spending less time sifting through the past or pining for the future. Without being truly aware of the exact moment of its occurrence, I had made the transition from yoga as exercise to yoga as a lifestyle.
I had no idea how far-reaching these internal changes would be until one night in scene, when I found myself standing with my hands planted on the bench behind me, bracing myself, my legs spread wide as his single-tail left fiery lines of pain on my breasts, cunt, and inner thighs. I was sweating and shaking, near tears, held in place only by a desire to please my partner, but hating the stinging sensation, struggling with the pain. My tight muscles wouldn't let my chest open up and breathe, so I was panting, trying to endure. I was mere seconds away from safewording.
"I could just give in," I thought, chiding myself silently for my inability to submit like we both wanted me to. My mind latched onto the words "give in" as some sort of lifeline. I started to breathe the words, chanting them quietly as a mantra in my mind as his whip came down again, and again, and again. I steadied my breathing around those words, "give in," repeating them with each inhalation and exhalation. Finally, surrender flooded over me like a cleansing wave, calming my fears. It let me breathe, giving my body a chance to release the endorphins that it needed to deal with the intensity of the whipping so that I could ride the energy all the way through to the end.
There was nothing in the world but he and I and the energy we were sharing. Give in. The pain that I had struggled with transformed and became a sensation that made me purr with ecstasy. Give in. I found myself arching up to the whip, opening my legs further for it, until I ended up having a body- and soul-shaking orgasm. Give in. I came screaming as the wicked tongue of his whip snaked against my panty-clad cunt, the tip snapping sharply against my clit several times in rapid succession. Give in. It hurt and felt so good all at the same time. Give in. I came so hard that I felt my juices running down my thighs and he never laid a hand on me. Give in.
As I was basking in the afterglow, I thought to myself, "How did I do that? How do I do it again?"
My post-scene contemplation made me aware that I had subconsciously taken some of my yogic disciplines — rhythmic breathing and chanting — and used them to transform my sexual experience from something challenging and negative to a scene that still plays out in some of my hottest masturbation fantasies. Yoga had entered my sex life and I liked it. A lot.
I wanted to learn how to make that level of presence and openness a part of every sexual experience, so I went to the library and picked up some yoga books; not the books of poses — those catalogs of human flexibility — but the books on yoga philosophy and spirituality. It was in one of these tomes that I discovered the term "the here-now mind," which is when you are living in the moment without thinking unnecessarily about the past or the future, without applying expectations, history, or internal monologues, just accepting the moment as it is. This was revelatory for me. It was exactly what I had been longing for from my sexual experiences, that elusive place of focus that I had sometimes touched but not been able to sustain, those moments when I was so deeply in my body that my mind was quiet and I was just feeling and being. Sweet, delicious surrender.
I started consciously applying yogic breathing (pranayama) and my "here-now mind" to my sex life after I began studying the mental aspects of yoga and meditation. At first the level of intimacy that comes from being truly present, in BDSM play in particular, was terrifying. How could I be this present, this in tune with my experience? However, I persisted, wanting to come to a place where being present in the here and now was a constant in my sex life. Instead of going inside and disassociating myself from pain to endure it, I was learning to breathe into pain, embracing it and all of its sensations and emotions, even the uncomfortable ones.
I began inviting the whole experience of my sexual journey, opening myself to it. Once I got past the initial, vulnerable "oh fuck, what am I doing?" feeling, I realized that I was not only okay, I was wonderful! The play was raw and juicy, wild, intimate, hot. I had had a great sex life before, but now I'm having better sex than I ever thought possible. Even with partners I don't fuck, I end up feeling pretty thoroughly fucked when I play because my openness and presence increases my already prodigious ability to experience so much pleasure. Repeat orgasms, including non-genital orgasms through breathing, erogenous zone stimulation, and sharing energy with others now causes a wonderful, shared whole-body catharsis that leaves my partners and I glowing at the end of a scene.
My every sensual act now is born out of a place of love, happiness, and thoughtful attention. Delving deeper into my practice has brought me to a place of radical self-acceptance, freeing me from so many of the anxieties and stressors that used to prevent me from living in the moment, connecting wholly to my partners and my desires. Yoga has transformed me from the outside in, and I am no longer the woman I was when I first started this journey. I have a strong, pain-free body; a calm, quiet mind; a hotter, wetter, more intimate sex life; and fuller, richer emotional connections than I have ever experienced before. I have never been happier or more confident than I am right now. And right now. And right now.
By Sassafras Lowrey
I am the street-worn boot tread walked away by travels, by running away from my fears and then later striding steadily towards them. Each intentional step brings me closer to something I still cannot yet define. In his hands I glow with the same shine I bring to his boots. I am not dress boot or titleholder finest; I am lived-in boots that have walked through the elements. I am layers in scuffs, gouges marring the surface in need of being worked out.
I've searched for spirituality and I have no answers other than the thick and sour taste of boot polish, and the scraping of bristles against my tongue leaving smears across my nose. Leather is the closest to religion that I've ever gotten. Boots are the one place where my service does not tremble. Here I'm able to turn off my mind, push past the anxiety, let kneecaps sink into floorboards. Pain melts together with memory, mixing with surrender, deeper than the memory of my birth parents' tarnished faith.
I finger boot laces the way my grandmother clutches her rosary beads. Begging the boot, its wearer, our mutual owner to deliver me to self. When he found me shivering within my outer angry, crusty punk boi exterior, he read me picture books, tied me up, bought me Playdough, pushed me to my limits. It was through his care that I was able to reach a place of centeredness. When he found me, my gender was boi. Through the years that has shifted, but no matter what gender I've called home, even as a high femme I've always been, always will be his boy. As his boy I've been taught that power can be safe, that it/he can cradle, caress, tear me down and build up my shine so high that for the first time, I can see myself truly reflecting.
Through my submission I found myself able to begin searching for spirituality. I could not in earnest begin that journey until I was his boy. I could not begin a calm search until I had a Daddy to guide me. I need stability in order to do this kind of searching. I needed containment, and centering. I need to know that I will not be allowed to set my own course towards destruction. Containment means that I am not journeying on my own, that there is always someone holding my hand and keeping me from spiraling out on fear masquerading as spiritual practice. I am little and need to know that I am always safe.
I have a fraught relationship with spirituality. I've longed for something I could truly believe in since childhood. As I grew my searching would pause, as I would find a belief system that would momentarily pique my interest, meet my immediate needs. Religion and I don't have good histories together. I have, as much as I try to deny it, inherited my mother's addictive personality. It's the root of why I don't drink, why I've never been high. Religion became my acceptable form of addiction.
Excerpted from Spirit of Desire by Lee Harrington. Copyright © 2016 Mystic Productions Press. Excerpted by permission of Mystic Productions Press.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Table of Contents
Into the Spirit of Desire Lee Harrington xi
And Right Now: Giving In Through Yogic Expansion Galeogirl 1
Soul Stitching Sassafras Lowrey 5
Hungry for You Michelle Belanger 9
Locked Over My Heart Iayla tromble 17
The God hood of Genderfucking Jaki Grier 21
The Sacred Role of the Provoker: There's a Coyote Within the Dance Master Dennis 25
It Hurts All The Time: Fibromyalgia as an Ordeal Path Margo Eve 35
Priestess Birth Kaye Buckley 45
Mein Kleiner Tod Xochiquetzal Duti 63
Over the Top: An Ordeal Master's Foray into the Numinous D. Christopher Dryer 69
The Divine Scene Alexandra Entendre 83
Hunting Lions Scratch Hunter 87
I love you perfect Crystal Gem 97
Blood Run Down Raven Kaldera 99
Hanuman as My Guide Shuphrique 109
On The Cross Master Malik 113
Fit For a God: Otterdancing 115
Finding The Slow Path Joshua Tenpenny 119
On The Other Side of the Pixels Alex M. Quinlan 125
In The Hum Sybil Holiday 137
The Joy of My Service Domme Jaguar (Mexico) 143
God-Sex and Consent: Two Examples of Saying "Yes!" to Ecstasy P. Sufenas Virius Lupus 149
Another Dead Nigger Mollena Williams 163
Prism Living Kyndyl 177
Bells, Balls, Hooks and Fists: Universal Transportation Cléo Dubois 183
The Pain Was Not Just Mine Lady Jazelle 187
Care and Feeding of Predators: How to Play with a Therian and Not Be Eaten Alive C.A. Sizemore 197
How I Found My Way Back to Kink Magic Taylor Elwood 207
A Long-Awaited Ordeal, That Wasn't Nanodot 213
Dancing the Dark Divine: Ecstatic Masturbation in the Worship of Lilith Galeogirl 219
A Master's Love for His slave Master Malik 223
Managing Psychic Waste: Transcendence through Humiliation Eve Minax 225
Service Topping as a Spiritual Practice Lady Elsa 231
Dancing Into Darkness, Dancing Into Light Lee Harrington 237