jagadeesh krishnan

The Male Experience of the Sacred Feminine as Sacred Whore

by Goddess of Sacred Sex

I WAS CONTACTED BY DOLLINA WHO IS TRANSGENDER AND FOUND HIS STORY FASCINATING AND ONE I WANTED TO SHARE WITH EVERYONE ON A PERSPECTIVE I AM UNABLE TO WRITE ON - THE MALE EXPERIENCE AS SACRED WHORE.  I HOPE YOU ENJOY HIS CANDID EXPRESSION.

WARNING:  This story describes male on male sex.  If this is not your preference, then close now.

I am writing to you as "Dollina Garden" the name I often use to represent myself as the feminine in nature. I live mainly as a male but I am in fact essentially transgender since my earliest sexual awakening at age 8 or 9.

I wish to share my experience from an unusual male sacred feminine perspective. I am spiritually experienced having had rare and fullest nirvana at age 15 in 1967 preceding my earliest introduction to eastern religion by just a few days, and then followed by ethereal dreams of a hermaphrodite goddess in the following year. I had my first man, a manly boy, at age 14.

Before I begin my story, I must warn you that I will tell it explicitly. But I will not write it in a vulgar manner. In telling my own story of my journey to sacred sexual awareness, I hope that I can be slightly explicit with you, but not for pornographic reasons.  At an early age, I attributed my sexual identity to timeless pre-ancient history.

The central theme of my sexuality is a connection that I've long made between socially condemned/shunned sexual practices and divine sexual energy. I know from earliest experience that all sexuality is connected to the ultimate Goddess energy, the eternal past and future feminine Divine.

I began as a clairvoyant boy. I had exceedingly rare nirvana at age 15. This is not something I believe, this is something I know. It has given me a much fuller knowledge of the Divine. I understand that nirvana is a word primarily used by Buddhists in a quasi secular manner. I do not identify with the agnosticism or ambiguity about the divine that I perceive in Buddhism. My nirvana was the experience of taking a bath inside of God-dess. I use that term to say that the Divine is no less one gender than the other. The experience was a full blowing out and a total heavenly rapture. Now I wish to shift the topic to sexuality.

The Male Feminine

I have a male body. I am not a woman trapped inside of a man's body. I am both a woman and a man, living without conflict inside of a male body. I do not need a sex change or any other body mutilation. I do not call myself "gay" because that very word is a historical reference to homosexual stereotypes that are primarily social as well as sexual. I do not speak as a queen. I am not even perceived as effeminate in public. I am technically bisexual. But I am fluid. There are times when I have a completely masculine inner identity with attraction to women. But more often, I am dreaming of a certain kind of man with a yearning to be feminine. Words like "gay" and "homosexual" have never been suitable labels. I prefer instead to rest in the confidence that I am simply a male with a largely feminine soul that is not outwardly manifest unless I choose to channel it alone or with a man.

I am aging and now age 62 but very youthful because I have no self destructive vices. I have a vegan diet with lots of raw greens, do not smoke and rarely drink. I have done prana breathing and meditation for much of my life. I have been celibate by choice since about 1995 when I was 44. Men and women that others would consider attractive are readily available to me. But my sexual value system, especially my vegan sexuality and my concepts of sacred sex, limit my options. I do not see this as a permanent personal problem. It is more a matter of sticking to my personal values until a better time comes. And I strongly feel that things are changing for the better and thus I may enjoy opportunities to mate in the spiritual context that I prefer, in nature in the coming year. I'm a moderately successful investor and plan to be living on real land in the near future. I rarely suffer any kind of loneliness. I see myself as a channeller of love and sacred sex energy, especially in the feminine.

Sacred Whore Concept

The central theme of my sexuality is that I have been and will always return to the experience of being a sacred whore. The sacred whore is an ordinary person who has known or rediscovered their innocence. They have nevertheless learned to transmute male lust energy into feminine spiritual love. This is different than most heterosexual and homosexual energy where there is guilt and self destruction and denial and shame. The sacred whore learns to process lust with courage and intelligence without losing her belief in the spiritual goodness that she channels from a Higher Power in her Goddess. (I only capitalize the term Goddess when referencing the Supreme Being and not when referencing goddesses of various traditions.)

As I vaguely understand it, the sacred wore term originally referred to virgin women who were forced to have anonymous sex with foul men as a religious rite whereafter they were otherwise expected to be pure and marry. But I tend to believe that the term sacred whore refers to the timeless sexual identity of all feminine creatures, meaning that their (our) natural sexuality is considered inherently sinful by religious patriarchs. I do not agree that sex is inherently sinful except when it is destructive, self destructive or unhealthily promiscuous. Now I need to be a little more graphic.

A Concept of Sacred Seed

My self identification of my feminine sacred whore persona was rooted in childhood. It evolved. And by my late 20s I took a serious interest in the consumption of sperm and realized it was my destiny to fulfill this quest. My interest was partly motivated by a natural but concealed feminine lust. But it always seemed that my greater interest was simply to show men the path of love.

Allen Ginsberg

This interest to consume a man's sexual energy was previously self-repressed and usually subconscious. I had probably been curious about it since my teenage years. But it came to the forefront of my conscious mind very suddenly and with great delight one night when I was at a small intimate-sized poetry meeting with Anne Waldman in Boulder, Colorado, circa 1976-1977. Only about a dozen of us poets were present. A video was shown of Allen Ginsberg reciting the poem titled Understand That This is a Dream. In the poem Ginsberg recites the following words: "with many men I knew one generation / our sperm passing into our mouths and bellies / beautiful when I love / given. Now the dream oldens"

http://www.poemhunter.com/best-poems/allen-ginsberg/understand-that-this-is-a-dream/

That recital on video brought respectability to my curiosity and long repressed desire to drink sperm as an act of love. And moments later, Ginsberg himself showed up at the meeting. I was able to speak with him privately before the night ended.

The consumption of sperm is truly a shunned and maligned sexual activity in society. Commonly practiced or perceived aspects of gay community and homosexual consumption of sperm are not very much aligned with anything spiritual. That's because generic sex, whether it be hetero or homo or whatever, is generally driven by cultural practices and perceptions that almost always come bundled with negative notions and implicit condemnations.

I have no attraction in the slightest to more than one man in every thousand. And above all, I find generic sperm to be nothing but the purest form of garbage. I am not attracted to it. Yet, I was certain that there existed a more noble and palatable version of male lust from a more god-like man suitable to appreciate the androgynous goddess qualities that I possessed in that stage of my youth.

As a direct result of having my mind opened up by Ginsberg, I set out on a deliberate path to find the sperm donor of my wildest dreams. It was not simply a matter of selfish lust. I felt confident that I was sufficiently feminine and youthful to love a rugged and virile satyr if I could learn to learn to consume his seed for his lust pleasure. Once familiar with the ritual of doing this, I would then have the skills to not only love a man, but also to liberate my innate hidden feminine energy.

Rod the god

Antinous the Gay God

I was 27 years old. It was a beautiful spring day in April of 1979. I had found a marvelously lustful, clean handsome satyr. And now I had seduced and disrobed him in my studio residence in Boulder after we smoked a joint of marijuana together. I not only fellated his beautiful staff but he in turn also pro-actively enjoyed providing the kinetic energy of intercourse. He pumped my mouth for much of the afternoon as the glorious spring air and feminine fragrance of flowers swept into my open window. My lover's name was Rod. He was strictly a feeder and not interested in sucking me, which worked out perfectly. Before our lovemaking began, I specifically told Rod that I had never drank a man's sperm before and wanted it more than anything. Rod was utmost eager to teach me the ropes.

I'm telling you about this because it was to me the most feminizing liberation. From that day forward, it was also ethereal because of the spring air and flowers and the fragrance of a million mountain pines and because of our youth. Here the sun shone threw a crystal blue sky tempered by gentle chinooks. And in this ethereal consciousness, the experience would eventually enable me to connect all notions of ethereal sexuality to the Divine feminine. Today would simply open the door to understanding the connection between masculine virility, my private feminine identity and ethereal nature on a spring day by experiencing the actual seed as nourishment and goodness. It was all innate and instinctive with nothing to fear.

Naturally, when people think of fellatio being done by a male, they tend to associate a queer-looking man on a man, but in youth I was tragically androgynous at times and capable of being very feminine. And so it was on that beautiful afternoon, with fruit trees blossoming behind the tiny house. We smoked that joint of marijuana. I unzipped the fly on his very clean blue jeans. I pulled off his boots while he took off his shirt. Then I pulled off his pants and I could see instantly that he was urgently happy to see me. Fortunately, he smelled every bit as clean and erotic as he looked. His thighs were strong and thick with fur, unlike mine that were twiggy, dainty and had never grown a hair. We lay together on a thick rug on the floor. I placed my face between his legs and began with the sweetest kiss directly to his beautiful cock. He laid back his head to dream. Then suddenly, the petals of my young lips melted as I tasted the full measure of his immense power and structure. We began slowly for a long period of time. This built up to a sense that I was a girl and had found the boyfriend of my wildest dreams. I knew from his scent and taste that he was immensely virile and stimulating. But I had no clue just how stupendously virile he would turn out to be. I teased playfully. I slapped it on my tongue. I licked like a little girl. I sucked like a virgin. And then I sucked like a big girl, but never like a boy.

As Rod and I progressed into this lovemaking experience, I realized a tantric oneness between us. His phallus was astonishingly beautiful and wildly delicious. His balls and open thighs were utmost manly and furry. He was built like a lumberjack stud, not terribly muscular but all-satyr in a small town way. He was verbally moderate and rather quiet but extremely lustful. Boulder is situated just below the front range of the Rocky Mountains a few blocks from where this occurred. And now, I wish to relate the whore that awakened within me as Rod became lost in his many pleasure.

I was laying side by side with Rod. He continued to make love deep inside my mouth, I daydreamed that I was a teasing little girl for the sake of his maximum arousal. I then began to think of our lovemaking as a rite whereby the little girl was about to become a lady. But in order to do so, she must let go and allow herself to act as a liberated whore. Instead of thinking of this as fellatio, I thought of it as French kissing. Instead of his tongue being in my mouth, I was French kissing his cock. But with Rod grinding so lustfully, it became undeniable that we were actually fucking each other and the taste was driving me absolutely wild. This rhythm of synchronicity and the taste of his cadence became my meditation as I worked Rod's phallus. I was in heaven and feeling a sense of oneness with all the grown up girls of the world as I tasted the depth and succulence of Rod's rude muscle pumping deep into my smile. I literally put myself into a trance to take on the persona of feminine love that I surrendered to his energy using especially my tongue. As his warhead gently made war, my tender tongue simply made love and peace.

During the enduring course of this lovemaking session, while in the deepest state of meditation, my mouth felt magically transformed into a very real yoni. I say this because it felt literally like a young and beautiful grotto of nectar on an exotic honeymoon, losing its virginity. But I also knew that destiny was waiting.

Preparing for the Sacrament

To make a long story short, Rod was approaching readiness. I had licked and teased and sweetly kissed and loved his cock for much of that afternoon. Both of us had prolonged it long enough. He was starting to moan and groan with ecstatic pleasure. And as much as I wanted it to last forever, dreaming with him inside of me, it was nonetheless time to fulfill my commitment of love and become a lady.

Naturally, this meant a feverish level of oral performance to assure the unbroken continuum of his now desperate level of lust. I was in fact sucking like a whore and Rod was starting to buck like a wild bronco. And now I would receive the wisdom of the sacred whore waiting to taste a great mystery of the universe. So please forgive me if I speak like a whore only for the purpose of sharing a life moment that I regard as spiritually sacred.

Castor and Pollux

Baptism

Rod's cock began to pulse with the first shocking stupendous massive geyser of hot jizz that shot through my mouth and straight down my throat so fast and hard that my entire mouth and throat were primed with wild slipperiness. That allowed his cock the slippery freedom to ravage my mouth like an animal as that rude thing began shooting more and more and more lightning fast and powerful jolts of shocking jizz, each one of which came with another terribly rude plunge. My tongue darted helplessly in wave after wave after wave of more and more lust as I eagerly swallowed every gulp.

There was a total of at least twenty pulses before I lost count. These came at a rate of one pulse every second. Each and every pulse was so intensely powerful that it could easily hit the ceiling if I were not there to drink. Each hot geyser of Rod's jizz might literally have drowned me as he muscled it into my mouth like a beast gone wild. But in my meditation, I was totally relaxed. I simply drank and drank and drank and drank Rod's outrageously abundant healthy lust until his problem was "pussywhipped". All of this was new to me but seemed like something so very familiar that I had done in a past lifetime. I had nothing to lose and everything to drain. I was determined that his pleasure would be absolute and complete so that he would have me as his transvestite girlfriend. Then his terribly messy schlong began to soften just as it pulled from my lips.

I was a now a vessel of Rod's seed. I had drank a river of the healthiest sperm that I would ever know in decades to come. None of the men I ever came to know would have even one tenth of his virility. My tongue that had become nothing more than a battered and soft clitoris, was now tasting the testicular preeminence of a very rare and astonishingly virile man whose lust had now filled my belly. I had no problem with it.

Assimilation and Contemplation - A Lot to Think About

To best define my mental state, I felt that this was truly a female experience for me. In this wildly messy aftermath, I felt empowered and related strongly to great whores of history who applied skillful powers of seduction to steal power from men. I felt calm but joyfully liberated knowing that my maleness would not stop me from channeling female energy. My lips were numb with exhaustion and had proven their ability to perform in a vaginal way in their flexibility and passive receptiveness to his plunging cock. Even in the aftermath of this first lovemaking, they felt exactly like a yoni far beyond my wildest dreams. He never felt my teeth except when he asked me to bite his shaft. For most of our love session my tongue and lips were wrapped perfectly around his cock and oozing with clean sensual saliva.

Within this liberation, I also felt a strong sense of naughty victory for my success. Rod's cock was like a truly powerful machine gun shooting endless massive streaming geysers of stupendously rare male lust right down my throat. And yet, he was unable to drown me or overwhelm me because I channeled the energy of a historical whore deliberately and gulped his powerful love bullets fast and hard to the end. Supermen like Rod have this rare ability and I knew that I had to be a super-whore to tame this beast.

Now as we sat there looking at each other, it was also clear that he had my deepest secret like no man on earth. I knew then and there that I was imprinted to his lust and I knew that this would just be the beginning. He would want me and take me for granted. And I did not have the power or desire to resist. So my naughty victory of becoming a grown up big girl would be overshadowed by his lust taking over my whole world. I was totally liberated by this development but I also knew that I was happy to belong to him. He was very nice and I wanted to open a new chapter in my life to surrender my submissive love to him.

Immediately after that first session of love, Rod looked at me with a face of shocked resignation because his wildly excessive male energy had been so totally robbed. But he would quickly recover and eagerly have more of me. I licked my messy lips and blushed, fully embracing my whore-like status. I felt no shame in the slightest. I felt empowered with a new-found but intrinsic sense of undeniable value as a sex object for his pleasure. I tasted at least a million powerful aggressive sperm cells swimming desperately into the rare softness of my feminine tongue, each determined to find the missing egg. Each and every one of them would become a part of me forever. Each one of Rod's seeds were wildly stimulating. I could taste their aggressive potency as they invaded my tongue. All of this would reinforce the undeniable fact that I was part of Rod's testicles. And that's also where he would feel my love at any moment and become aroused. I would normally drop everything and get ready after he called.

Dating Rod

Most of the men I would know in the future would not come back more than once or twice a week. But Rod's lust would need my love almost every single day if not twice a day on some days. It became like a profession. I started out feeling like his girlfriend. But being his girlfriend was exactly like being an unpaid call girl. "Dating" meant servicing his cock. It meant having to be the best for fear that I would lose the virile god of my dreams. I was now living my normal daily life with an animal in my mouth. I would bathe, put on some makeup, do my hair into a page boy or try on some wigs, perfume myself with exotic essential oils, put on some Chantilly lace over a gaff, step into my high heels, practice my lady strut, put on some music and answer the door as a knockout lingerie doll. I humored him, served him cool beverages and healthy morsels of vegan food as part of a devious plan to fuel his already wild virility. I shared exotic sinsemilla to get him high. Then the pants came off and I was on the job yet again. It was the same routine every day, except that we sometimes did it outdoors in the mountains or out back in the thick secluded garden. But no matter how we dated, I had very quickly become his full time call girl. Tasting his incessant daily sex only reinforced this self image ever more deeply. But it was second nature. I could relax and meditate for one to three hours every day while tasting my man fuck like a pagan beast. I could be the most sissy girl on Earth and then no other girl could take him away from me.

At first I was very naive. I went out into the neighborhood one day and went to the corner store to have a beverage and sit on the patio. The cashier was a young lady who knew me as a regular acquaintance and liked me. She had no knowledge of my secret life until she apparently smelled my breath after a date with Rod. The scent of his seed clearly aroused her and we both smiled knowingly. But she kept my secret and I was a little more careful to cleanse my breath.

Rod was a kind young satyr but no less a wild animal in bed. I have always regarded him as a high priest master of sacred and rare virility. His divinely inherited virility was not simply a result of his parents. It was descended and evolved from all of pre-ancient history. To taste him was to taste the cosmos. It was a sacred sacrament.

My physical body, my mental composition and part of my soul would now and forever be partly composed of the nourishment from the testicles of this man so rare in his virile powers. Any woman might desperately want him. Naturally, it would be insane to regret this scandalous new lifestyle.

The War Between the Sexes

If the human world had known my scandalous secret life with Rod, they would perceive only a perversion. And so it was that I began to understand my tragically beautiful French born mother who was beaten and scandalized by my cruel Sicilian father. Loving Rod was a private act of treason to my father and tribute to my mother. It was like Oedipus. And from this, I further gained wisdom into all of the miserable notions of men who are much lower than my high priest Rod.

With man's frequent materialist and chauvinist attitude toward all feminine creatures, his sperm is not usually any blessing. It is usually a system of defilement and he defiles himself with a lust for dominance and thus cannot satisfy his own soul. Under Rod's lust in contrast, I tasted the dominance directly from his testicles daily and sometimes twice a day. But Rod's sexual dominance did not involve any force or defilement. It was a rare utopia of ecstatic erotic pleasure and the privilege to drink abundantly and freely from the fountain of a true mortal god (lower case) nevertheless a manifestation of the divine. It was immediately and clearly an opportunity to activate the goddess role that had previously been suppressed within me.

Roots and Sacred Dreams

I had begun to dress as that goddess when I was 9 years old. At the age of 14 I was

deflowered by a manly boy who only had me from behind. I was still a very tender and supple feminine baby sexually. Then my nirvana at age 15. Then there were the sacred ethereal dreams. In these dreams, there was at least one feminine maiden. She had a cock despite being a woman and an angel. And in these dreams, she entered me from behind, just as my first lover. All of this planted the idea within me that the Divine understood and created all forms of love in the spiritual. Meanwhile humankind had made it all into a thing of filth.

Celibacy and Journey Towards Mother Earth and Sacred Sex

I am now youthfully 62. I've gone deliberately without sex for nearly two whole decades. I have loved many men and many women for limited periods of time when I was young. I have often preferred the physical intimacy of a woman. But for pure sexual tantra, I prefer to be mainly the sacred whore for a virile god like the Rod of my faery goddess youth. I have a full beard but it's temporary. I am in fact a bearded ladyboy at heart. Naturally, I will not wear it forever.

VeganSexual

My concept of sacred sexuality may differ from yours especially in that I'm vegansexual. I no longer allow myself the pleasure of touching any man or woman who eats the death of animals. I am influenced by some longtime Hindu friends. For me personally, without passing judgment, I find all sex to be unsacred if the sperm or estrogen or body of either partner is composed of animal flesh. Thus I have been celibate by choice.

I have made efforts to find a suitable vegetarian partner. But I do not prioritize my selfish desires. And my early partner Rod was so exceedingly rare in his astonishing virility and kindness and cleanliness, that I am spoiled. Compared to Rod, I find nearly all men to be sexual swine and likewise not so many women.

Enlightened and Dynamic Spiritual Sex

To me, sacred sex must transcend all the limited and stifled cultural norms of static material sexuality. I perceive that sacred sex must evoke the essence of health and beauty through intimate loving, healthy vegan diet, raw foods, prana breathing, love of nature, sex outdoors in nature, yoga, dance, meditation, absence of promiscuity and total love for water and bathing. It must embrace honesty between partners and a deep investment of devotion.

High Priestess of Spiritual Tantra in Devotion to High Priest of Sacred Seed

I believe that a time will come, once I obtain some private fertile land soon, when I might be able to belatedly live the role of Earthbound goddess and high priestess to a virile god. I may very well be in love with a woman at any time. But at some point, I will probably relive the rare experience I had with Rod, with some other yet-to-be-found virile and spiritual godlike man. I will then once again become a sacred whore on a much higher level, Goddess willing. And I will partake of his benevolent and rare virility as my sacred sacrament. His testicles will be the physical temple where I invest my love and meditation. But in this episode, it will no doubt be a vastly more spiritual experience.

The Temple

My concept of a sacred sexual retreat would embrace organic gardening, vertical gardening, fertile raw vegan diet, serenity and peaceful quiet, pure air, visual and social privacy, mild body work, active labor to stay healthy and productive, a small amount of hatha yoga, lots of meditation and prana, outdoor bathing, building a small library, being a love doll on dates with my man, preparing truly exquisite foods in the quest to always build his virility, and submissively surrendering all of my loving sweetness in service to his lust daily.

Naturally, there is both pleasure and sacrifice in this kind of role. Self gratification is not my highest priority. I am a very private person. But somehow I yearn to lead others quietly, to the path of conquering male lust so that it may be transformed and transmuted into love. In the temple, my priest counterpart would enjoy the virility of a god through my devotion.

Sexuality in the Mundane Material World

I do not wish to deprive women of their men. But I see a world overpopulated and dangerously falling apart. I see an unprecedented animal holocaust. I see that everywhere, utopia is destroyed in the form of polluted soils and rivers from CAFOs (factory farming). And I see that most love is defined by the needless and loveless consumption of flesh. Hunters are the least to blame. The entire lives of animals are lived in outrageously foul conditions in factory farms. I wish to see instead a world where fertility and virility is based on plant-based consumption and spiritual love.

What is this life force that springs from a healthy god? It is life itself, condemned to be spilled and wasted if not loved. Can we simply overpopulate the world forever? I think that virility has better expressions besides endless breeding and human karma.

The Material Whore versus the Sacred Whore

To be clear, I am not a fan of promiscuity through prostitution. The bride of the multitudes is usually someone cultured by necessity. But I do believe that any woman or feminine male can have value as a sacred whore devoted to any one man's lust for a period of time in a monogamous affair or partnership.

In this role, she moderates the violence and male dominance of the world. She is a seductress stealing power from the balls of human beasts. If she does this as a high priestess with intelligence and ethereal devotion and the tongue of sensual love in awe and respect to the eternal Goddess who she emulates and channels, then I firmly believe that she tempers the aggressions of men and prevents needless conflicts and war. The sacred whore can be nourished by the lower chakra for a higher purpose. She transforms this testicular nourishment into love, allowing sperm to essentially become immortal as every man is biologically programmed to desire. Real men get a psychological thrill when they are consumed. Her love is felt deep within his family jewels. She is empowered to transform nuclear explosions into peaceful heavenly serenity. It is the same meeting of opposites experienced in sacred nirvana.

She is only a whore because a false patriarchy calls her one. If anything, men are far more worthy of the title for their common and biologically programmed promiscuity. Long live the sacred whore!

I too am tired of patriarchal religious notions. Why can't the sacred whore be the high priestess of modern spirituality? Is man's sperm so powerful that it cannot be transmuted into peace and harmony? Was not most of it condemned to spill and perish before it found love?

I think a sacred whore concept needs to be reintroduced into intelligent society as a spiritual center. I am not suggesting that matriarchy is infallible. Not all women are intelligent. But patriarchy is clearly the ignorance behind most oppression including man's oppression of himself. We need a sacred order of priestess souls who have served as exemplary sacred whores. And when certain foul, evil or violent men are undeserving of our love, we can give it to each other platonically or otherwise as sisters in the fire.