A demon needs all the functions of a witching body. They need it more than anything else in the universe. They need its flesh to drown in fluid, and its fluids to be the sea, ready to rise in a storm.
A demon needs the witch to follow their demands for simple things, such as picking up a cookie with those bodily hands, putting it onto lips colored by the blood pulsating through them, and into the witch‘s playful mouth. The demon needs the witch to swallow, and for the bodily fluids and forces to work with the input and present a result in rose cheeks, smooth skin and other vital products.
A demon needs the witch to give in to their demand and do it, so that they can observe and witness and be a part of things they themselves are not granted to have.
Because, the demons their angelic bodies fallen out of grace have no bodily ability to live life as full as their darkness would ever demand.
That is why they need their witches and their bodies able to swallow, and bleed, and spill.
„This blog post is dedicated to my favourite part of 14th century sources on witchcraft that tried to prove that Jesus never had to take a shit ever“, I try to sing in the sweet voice of my witch and she giggles.
„You‘re getting better“, she admits and steals another early Christmas cookie from me. „And better write down that we both have real bodies with real metabolism, or people 2000 years from will disprove that!“
Unloved tale
OnceWhen someone had herShe was almost lovedBut then this someone thought:”I can’t be allShe’d ever known”And he let her go. And She ranShe ran too fastWhen she ranShe ran too far ThenShe was found againBy another strange manWho loved her recklesslyLove turned to painAnd carved his sinInto her skin And she fledShe fled too fastWhen…
Just a haunted girl scaring her friends – Writing update!
Intrigued. And quite as bit terrified.Those were the exact same words I got as feedback from my friends whom I’d recently handed the first pages of the witching novel to. Seems like I’ve accomplished my task, right? I’m the haunted girl scaring all her friends!No, but really. It felt as if I was understood through…
Tale about the softest secret
This tale is about a girl I once knew. This girl could not go anywhere without her lovely white shoes. Made of cotton, their rim did not reach her ankles, giving away how thin they were. Their soles were so slim, she felt the earth with every step. Those shoes she needed so dearly were…
Mistress witch writes 