As the days shorten and the trees turn from emerald and malachite to topaz and copper, it is time to return to the hidden sanctuary where Mysteries are enacted. Time to worship the Goddess in her many avatars.
The Seraglio, silent for a while, is ready to echo again the whispers of commands from dark blood lips, the muffled cries of acquiescent and delighted submissives in the intimate sacred celebrations of the Eternal Feminine,
Dominant and wise, in turn, cruel and exacting yet nurturing, I will lead you once again from the mundane to the sacred place of Surrender.
As you may recall, I prefer email solicitations rather than telephone calls,