Witchmare Seduces Twilight
Dreamed 2021/3/12 (& 13) by Wayan
Watching TV, I blunder on a My Little Pony show from its final season. It's a surprise--a distinctly adult plot, and about romance not friendship.
After years of patient, indeed relentless attempts at seduction by a magically powerful unicorn mare--Witchmare, she calls herself--our heroine Twilight Sparkle, the Princess of Friendship, is (unusually for such a bookish, geeky, stubborn unicorn) caving in.
I can see why. I would. Witchmare's tall, slender, elegant, confident, powerful, magnetic... sexy. Is it witchcraft, or just that she's gorgeous and really appreciative? Everyone loves to be seen as sexy... especially by the sexy.
In the end, in front of the witch's imposing chateau, at her twin, tall, Gothic-arched blue gates, inscribed with ancient runes... Twilight just gives in to Witchmare's charm.
Or maybe to her lack of convincing alternatives. Twilight always thought of herself as straight, but it's never really worked out with any stallions. Not disastrous... but just not much chemistry.
Plus, let's be honest, Witchmare's just so persistent and affectionate, and, sweet Celestia!, that tongue down there feels pretty damn GOOD...
And... it seems to work out. Despite their differences--tall, short; glamorous, dorky; mystical, logical--she gets along pretty well with Witchmare. Better than with males at least.
"Maybe" confesses Twilight to her friends at the end of the show, "I liked girls all along, and was in denial." And then the devastating line, the one that forced me to face some things: Twilight bows her head and admits "After all, for years I denied friendship too."
Which she did. And maybe I did too.
But sometimes, after years of resisting pressure, your self-image, your whole world, suddenly yawns and stretches...
And the closed gate opens.
DREAM NOTES
The Gates of Moria, by J.R.R. Tolkien, c.1940 |
Gates of Witchmare Keep, by Chris Wayan, 2021 |
Trixie the witch-mare; pinuppy Halloween fanart by Kejzfox |
Next Night: PICNIC-ORGY
I'm at a witches' picnic in Golden Gate Park, on Hippie Hill. The morning fog is burning off--the sun's just peering through a white sky. The hill's crowded; other groups dot the lawn. We're all teens or twentyish. Some attractive girls in our group, though most like girls--and I'm a boy. Wait, I am sometimes, but... I'm not sure...
One manic girl runs around doing cartwheels and leaping over us in her little white dress showing off her thighs and panties... trying to turn on this girl she likes. And it works.
Now, encouraged by the group, I tentatively stroke her, ask what feels good, follow her preferences but keep taking small risks, and soon we're kissing and groping happily. I want to lick her clit next, and she seems eager to lick... whatever I've got throbbing down there.
It's just embarrassing not to know...
This follow-up did clarify last night's dream--not just about love and sex, but sexism. My mom basically saw men as defective women, violent and ugly. I suspect she was a closet lesbian--in her generation, you just got married, period. Maybe she didn't even know. Consciously or not, she taught me being male was wrong, unwelcome; if I flirt, I'm oppressing women, none of whom could possibly want a man. So hide my feelings, stay in the closet!
After years of therapy I learned to respond to others' flirtation, but I've never fully shaken the feeling it's wrong for me take initiative. Fine for all of you... just not me. Thanks, Mom!
So the Twilight dream switched my gender, and this follow-up dream blurs it, to ask "If sexual initiative's OK for Witchmare and that somersaulting dyke, how can it be wrong for me, whatever gender I am? Consistency, please!"
But... why witches, why magic? Well... for years, I've had useful predictive, telepathic and clairvoyant dreams. But I mostly still hide that, except here online--tired of condescension from scientific dogmatists. But Magic's been courting me a long time--bringing me great gifts. And Magic is sexy.
So give her a fair chance! The dream hints that "getting in bed with" magic--not hiding ESP, not fearing the sneers of magiphobes--might find me love, too.
If somepony as habit-bound as Twilight can unbend, so can anyone. Even me.
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