Necromancy and Erotic Involvement


After some interesting conversation and external research I have started this and welcome thoughts and opinions .

Death for many has always been a taboo subject across many societies and cultures across the world and generationaly. However it lies at the forefront of many magikal focuses be it physical death or a spiritual dying and rebirthing of oneself and ones new life.

Furthermore it is interesting to see how death can be seen as a beautiful thing. Almost sexual and erotic as the the dying is almost like a release be it orgasm or ‘La petite mort’. @S.Boheme I wouod be interested on your thoughts given your involvement and focus on this particular subject.

Please, anyone else I welcome insight into the sexual elements and Fetishisation of such a topic and how this works in your magik and craft.


@ARL47 I come back from a day of foraging and this is what i find…lol. hope you are well…yes i love this topic! :slight_smile:


We are the Dead, waiting to awaken. Death is an erotic passion, an erotic union between the dead and dying and a representative for the realm of the death or with the Goddess herself. To be embraced by death and by she who came before time. She who spoke time into being. This union is the death wedding.

Forget the concepts of death, the drivel, from contemporary culture and its macabre ideologies. Yes, it makes me want to spit at something!

This union or wedding is achievable not only at the moment of death but also in the life we live now as practitioners of the most ancient of arts. To be immersed in death is to be immersed in the death current. I cant stress this point enough. We must view death as not death but life for this is what the death current truly is. It must seep into us, flow from us, we must exude it like a sweet scent inballbof our workings. In doing this we will effect change within every facet of our existence. And yes, sacrifices will be made and part of you will die but what is reborn from death into death is shattering in its sensuality and power.

We must conquer death and like the mother we must become masters of initiation. Embrace death and you embrace the spinner/weaver of your fate, the mistress of death. Now, alkemykal ecstasy is pure intoxication. It transcends any and everything sexual on a physical or ethereal level. You become liquid energy when orgasm is achieved, this both within and without of the body.

Bring together the death workings and your union with the sons and daughters of fate and you have something that can be used to further other workings that you may have planned. This is desire and pleasure coiled up in death. Very erotic. Fluids are key!!! Drink lots of fluids lol…no i mean sexual fluids and there are 3 that we are after here. 3 that we need for our working. 3 but only 2 are shared. The clear fluid in both man and woman (pre cum), the white fluid of man (semen), the red fluid of woman (menstraul blood), and here we have an elixir worked from death that can alter lifea.

The sexual fluids from a solitary man or woman used within a necromantic working can also be used in other magickal workings. As i do with my own. Some things are intimately nocturnal and i love ferocious fetishes. During a necromantic rite, there may be a point at which i will masturbate to orgasm, before orgasm is reached i will.induce a state of death sometimes through trance or psychoactive and sometimes through asphyxiation. I wont go into those details just yet but we’ll get there im sure. After all, it is only in death that we can truly awaken.


Such a passionate account. Whilst it is graphic, I feel it is well informed, necessary and helps display the energy involved.

I will admit, from a young age, I have always , in a way, feared death. My belief in reincarnation and subsequently Buddhism grew out if this and helped me accept it. However such an embrace of the macabre and accepting death not only as an inevitability but as a sexual practice is not just fascinating; it actually twists it on its head, explaining it and putting it into a new perspective. One that certainly is the most unique yet.

Any books you would recommend on this specifically ?


@ARL47 The graphic was purposeful. We cannot know our limits unless we test what we believe are those limits. Just what are we prepared to sacrifice for our pursuit of a perceivable truth?

If we limit ourselves, or rather, limit the search, this then, to me, is a castration of thought and word. We then have closed the doorway to full growth. Wisdom must be sought in the realm of the dead because this is where wisdom sleeps. We must adorn ourselves with death, be caressed by its rythmic, sensuous movements.

We all have guilty desires and suffer from obsessions grim yet delightful, desirable and yet terrifying.

I think it was Nobakov who wrote “Our world is but a brief crack of light between two eternities of darkness”. There are many who live in this non - existence, this abyss of slience where they are persecuted by demons of their own making. I love the sensual violence of words. I remember reading Ancient Evenings by Norman Mailer when i was in my early teens. It was an old, worn copy that belonged to my mother and i loved it. I know that it caused something of a stir when it was first published. Now, this is a work of fiction but it rings true throughout, time and again. The erotic symbolism/symbiotism of death and sexual energy are strewn like flowers across its paper landscape. It is a masterful work of fiction. A sensual dance of death and rebirth. It is, to me at least, highly underrated.

In an earlier post it was @StewardofSophia who spoke passionately about Slavic Folklore which is obviously very close to his heart. We could talk about this for a day and forever, dont get me started. What a wealth of treasures and some truly ancient lore. Fascinating reading! And here to you will find death and erotic passion. But this is true of all ancient lore that has not been corrupted. A perversion of nature and defilement of the sacred. How do such things become established? A very interesting book and one that i highly recommend for anyone who finds this interesting is Eroticism: Death and sensuality by Georges Bataille.


We know that NDE’s and OBE’s can be induced by orgasm just as easily as they can by using a psychoactive like acacia root for example. I have found that, in my personal experience, if we partake of a psychoactive before we induce orgasm and we orgasm during erotic asphyxiation the NDE’s/OBE’s triggered are stellar.

Of course, this is not everyone’s brew and most will not speak of it, which astounds me. I am in no way suggesting that the members of BALG go out tonight and wrap plastic bags around their heads and masturbate under moonlight, of course not, although, the effects of a collective energy drawn from a mass erotic death working would be quite interesting to behold…im sure. And this brings me to my point or i should say this brings me to the point of today’s ravings. Death is the ultimate orgasm and also the ultimate high!

I have experienced a shared, orgasm induced NDE/OBE whilst performing a working. This with a partner of the same sex (it doesnt have to be). The result of this working was a shared vision, which I will come to. This working involved the use of a psychoactive mixed with dried blood taken from both of us and then smoked. More on this as we proceed but firstly, i am again, in no way suggesting that any of you do this. This was a consential decision taken by two women with a lifelong invested interest in erotic death majik and who have a healthy respect and mutual trust for and of each other.

I will write this in two ways. As it happened and also as an instruction of sorts for those who wish to try it but this is exactly as it happened.

The ritual:
We had for weeks prior to the working focused our intent not on the outcome but rather on the act to come itself. Intent X3!! I cant repeat myself enough on the importance of Intent. Intent, the violent pleasures of the working. The drawing and taking of energy from each other and the death current. We abstained from all physical sexual unions for this time but increased our ‘flirting’ and intensely so. We chased each other ,like two planetary bodies, infinitely circling but drawing closer and closer on each passing turn. If you have ever experienced this then you will know that the energy manifesting between these two bodies is highly charged, highly erotic and the continual separation is brutal and delicious, like ripened sweet figs on the tongue.

On the night of the working we used a large granite mortar and burned a mixture of dried bay leaves from my kitchen cupboard and sage. We let this burn in the room that the working was to take place in. My partner had prepared two cups of peppermint tea which we took together whilst we prepared a herbal bath that we would take together as well.
IMPORTANT NOTE: Do not engage in any sexual union at this point!! Even though the temptation to do so will be maddening.
The herbs that you use for the bath are of your own choosing. You could make a simple parsley infusion if you like. Bunch of parsley in a pot and cover with hot water and add one (1) sliced parsley root. Let this stand for about 10 minutes, strain and add this water to your bath.
IMPORTANT NOTE: Please do not use this infusion if you are pregnant or suspect that you may be pregnant!!!
Alternatively, and just as potent is vervain and verbena infusion _ purification and protection. While in the bath take turns to pour water over each others body and repeat your intention. I promise you that it will be worth it.

Light the first smoke and savour it. Remember, during this time you want to be focused on your intent not outcome, do not lose focus! All the same, you are, for this working evoking Lilith, it is she who you will call upon and as such you must offer dedications to her in the firm of incantation. Choose a moment while in the bath to collectively chant your chosen incantation. As i said previously, the simplest forms of majik are often the most rewarding, in my opinion of course. If you do not have an incantation that speaks to you then do it from the heart. Write it yourself, prior to this evening and focus all of your intent into the writing. Build the bridge from words made of intent. This to me is far more potent in its effectiveness. Spend as much time in the bath as you choose, do not hurry the process.

Now, when you are done with the bath you may choose to rub each other with oil of your choosing. Again, remember your intention! Mantra mantra mantra… Draw energy from one another and use your incantation.

We made our way to the room where the working would take place. The bay/sage mixture had already burned through and the smoke lay thick in the air. We chose to cast a circle. Our reason was to try and control as much of the energy as we could in a specified area. The circle was cast using an athame pointed to the ground and this was all. At the time we used an athame cast from copper, the significance of which is obvious but in retrospect i believe it would have had no less impact had the athame been cast from stainless steel, for example. This because our intent was poured into that blade. We had prepared, again prior to this night and with intent, two hand rolled smokes. They were filled with the infusion of dried bay leaves, dried acacia root and dried blood, as i mentioned earlier, taken from the two of us. The blood was our offering to the mistress of death. There will be many who will probably recoil in perverted morality at this but understand, there was an intimate fragility in this condition.

I ask again, how far are you prepared to go to truly find the thing that you are so desperately searching for? Will you live in fear and in abject ignorance because you shy away from the very thing that you seek? I would hope not!

Without the circle we had placed candles at each station. Within the circle we had placed a blanket, a pillow, the second smoke, and the athame along with two lengths of rope. Each of these items had been cleansed and dedicated with our intention placed upon them prior to the working. We sat upon the blanket facing each other, legs wrapped around each others waist. I faced west and she faced west. Sacred fire, sacred serpent. We lit the second smoke. We repeated our incantation three times slowly and finished the smoke on the last words. We reached for each other then.I have used these words before. Desire, coiled up in death! This was her! This was me! We made love to the rhythm of that drum that beats inside all of us.

At some point during the evocation she had slit my finger with the athame and had done so to herself as well. I tasted blood, on my lips, on my tongue and when we kissed. We placed the ropes around our necks and tightened the knots at front. Oxygen starvation was immediate but slow. Pleasure! A confrontation both sensual and deadly. This went on for a while. The pleasure was pooling in my pelvic area, my stomach, my spine and head and i slipped over the edge and fell and fell and fell…

She uttered something inaudible and the sound vibrated through me, it was just a whisper. A moment passed and then i heard it again and my eyes flew open. I do not know what was said and she cant remember it but i do know that it wasnt her that spoke. The moment of that realisation was also at the height of asphyxiation and we orgasmed together. At the peak of climax there was what i can only describe as a pulse of light, purple and gold, behind my eyes. It was accompanied by a very heavy presence in the room and then the vision.

Im off to make something in the fire. I’ll be back a litte later to finish.


it comment here to follow the topic, then I edit with my considerations.


Your writing ebbs with the bittersweetness of rebirth, the pain of loss intermingled with the pleasure of creation. Thank you for sharing :slightly_smiling_face:


@shinri such a beautiful and generous comment. I am very happy that it sang to you. Thank you!


The vision: Before i continue i feel that i should make clear that this retelling of the vision is from my point of view. My partner in this working, who was at the time and still is very gifted in her path as a wood wife or witch if you prefer, experienced the same vision but from her own point of view as such. This fact proved to be very important. Also, please keep in mind that although the retelling is in sequence, this sequence was initially fragmented. So i put the pieces together and give you this.

I woke. I was standing naked, waist deep in what i can only describe as a small shallow lake. There was a light wind moving over the water but i was not cold. The lake was ringed by a forest, a sea of trees that i would identify as being Cedars of Lebanon. To me it seemed as though it was late afternoon and i looked up expecting to see the sun but all i saw were stars. Stars flung out across the vault, burning holes in the blanket of eternity.

Where was my partner? There was movement in the trees. I did not see it, i sensed it. I was seized with a sudden sense of guilt. Why had i not called out to her? Why was i just standing here? I knew that i was facing west. I dont know how i knew but i just knew. (Later i would recall that i was facing west at the start of the working.) I turned in the water and started calling for her. West, i called. North i called. East, i called. South, i called. And then there was a voice. A woman’s voice. So beautiful that any words i could use to descibe what it sounded like would be an injustice. It started as a whisper and ended in a vibration that passed right through me. It was the same voice that i had heard during the working and I began to cry.

West…there was a woman standing on the western shore. She was just standing there watching me. At that distance i could make out that her hair was long and dark. She wore a simple, long sleeved black dress that went down to her ankles. There was something tied about her waist, it hung low on her right hip but from my point of view i could not clearly define what it was. She wore no shoes. I was overcome with such a deep sense of loss at this that today i still can not explain it. Her face…what i saw was clearly a face but it was as though i was looking through running water. She was smiling. My earlier misguided panic had faded and was replaced by a warmth that was radiating from my toes to my head.

I knew who she was. I knew who i was looking at. What i sensed coming from her was an immense power. An unfathomable amount of energy contained in the frame of that woman. And then she raised her left hand, palm up, and pointed straight at me. It was just for a moment and then her outstretched hand moved. The smile was gone and she was pointing over my right shoulder.

I turned on instinct. There was something on the bank of the eastern shore. My very first thought was that i was looking at an animal, it was just my first thought. I strained another look and realised that it was a child. A girl child. She was probably about six, possibly seven. She was wearing the same black, long sleeved dress and again there were no shoes on her feet. Her face though was as clear as day even at that distance. She was not looking at me, rather, her attention was only on the woman behind me. And she seemed, here i want to say angry but i dont think it was that.

And then the vibration of sound again, it was all around me, passing through me and at the moment that i felt as though i was going to start crying again i heard this:
“I see a child dark as night standing upon the eastern shore. I see a child wild and threatening”.
At this point it felt as though someone had passed their hand in front of my face. When i looked again to the eastern shore the girl child had a crown upon her head and to me it felt as though it was alive. I am not mistaken in this. The vibration rose again and i heard this:
“I see a child dark as night standing upon the eastern shore. I see a child crowned and conquering”.

This time i moved. I turned to look behind me and then the pulse of light again behind my eyes. I woke for the second time and we were on the blanket, inside the circle.

We shared this vision. We compared notes later and it was almost identical except for the viewpoints. She saw what I saw, only she saw the woman on the eastern shore and the child on the western shore. (When we go back to the start of the working, she was facing east) Also, she said the thing hanging on the hip of the woman was a set of keys. There were also small differences in the words spoken towards the end of the vision but other than that they were identical. This was highly unexpected! My partner in this working is now married and very happy. We have always sensed that there are things that we dont remember from that night. Parts of the vision that are missing or somehow blocked. Its just a feeling. What does it all mean? Well, i have theories.

I have something in mind that i would like to explore. It will involve a significant group of us but i feel that the end result will strengthen us all.


I was attending a funeral service yesterday of a man that i knew and didnt know. It got me thinking, as such things often do, about our life stories. Elusive and frail things that they sometimes are. I wondered what his story was, if there was a whole side to him that no one ever knew. I went to bed but did not sleep (36 hours and counting) instead, i found myself debating the connections between unconscious thought and language, as i sometimes do at 2 in the morning. But its those stories, those pieces unknown, of both the living and the dead that i love to consume. How did we come to be where we are? I thought that i would share, with you, a piece of me. Here then is my story, a brief history of me.

As practitioners of these most ancient arts, we are all born twice. By this i mean a place of birth and a place of rebirth. These places and the people who fill their spaces are intrinsically woven into our paths.

Malta - 1994 - Birth
I was born towards the end of winter on the island of Comino, Malta. Or, the island of the dead as i would call it. My father, Tumas, died before i was born, taken by the sea or so they say. My mother, Eliza, crippled by his death and unable to bring herself to live without him, ended her own life less than a year after giving birth to me. It would seem that death has always been an ever present companion of mine. She named me after her mother. It would be my grandmother’s family name that i would take for myself years later.

I was adopted by my mother’s sister and best friend, Isobelle, a woman that i would call mother from that day. A woman who i would love as such. My adoptive father, Erin, and i have always been weary of each other. Something in me that he never quite liked or perhaps, something that he guiltily liked too much. He would often say that i was too much like Eliza. Not able to have their own children, i believe, also played a huge part in his resentment towards me.

I was raised in the family home on the island of Gozo, Malta. Here my adoptive mother and my grandmother would teach me folk magic and herbalism. It was also here that i would encounter a nameless fear and be tested in my journey through the dark portals of life. When i was fourteen, my adoptive father, a consulting engineer, was offered a post in Japan which he accepted. I would spend the next several years of my life on another island, on the other side of the world. It would be in Japan that i would meet the person who would introduce me to Animism. There where i would fall in love for the first time. Unrequited, silent, deadly love that it was. But more importantly, it would be in Japan that i would come to embrace necromancy.

Osaka - 2009 - Rebirth
At 15 i would attend Matsubora High and here i would meet Kotori, a girl two years my senior. It would be beautiful, deadly Kotori and her merciful demands of absolute devotion who would first introduce me to and then teach me all she knew of necromancy. Kotori was from Koyasan village and it was here in Koyasan that i would devote myself to death majik. She who led me through the forests to the halls of Torodo, Mizumukejizo, Shotokuden and Gokusho respectively. She who walked with me at Eireiden. She who led me across Gobyobashi and it was she who held my hand as i entered Okunoin cemetery for the first time. No place has ever spoken to me like Okunoin. At night with lanterns lit, amongst the ancient trees and tombstones, the dead spoke to me. At Mount Osorezan (Osore), with Kotori as my shield i was introduced to Itako or Ogamisama, blind women who in their workings communicate with Kami and also the spirits of the dead.

Kotori and i were inseparable, we shared everything. Danced wildly and passionately. And being the fool that i was, i fell in love with her. Her dualistic nature was, to me, desirable and terrifying. She was at once sensual sister and jealous, deadly mother. A confrontation of personalities that i always assumed would end in a pool of blood. I saw her thus. There were moments of tenderness that were shared between us. I have never loved anyone that way ever again. Two years after i met her she would be gone. Just gone. I was not prepared for it. The suddeness of it. It tore me to pieces. Losing her left an emptiness in me, a hole that ive carried with me. And so, propelled by loss, my fate would become death.

Part 2 to follow…


We often live our own lives, seeing only a brief snippet of others around us, no matter how distant or close we are. A funeral is a but a sentence from the whole book of that individuals life.

Even as we recall fondest memories and good times, they are only from our perspective. What they knew and thought is now truly lost.

To steal an idea from Harry Potter. The idea of a Horcrux and the ability to split the soul to ensure eternal life is almost in a way a means of constant rebirth. Life and death split and reanimating ourselves again and again in a renewed image.


I’ve sat down so many times over the past week to write this and just couldn’t bring myself to do it. I would start and then get emotional and then i started feeling really drained. I honestly considered not doing it, even just deleting everything and closing my account. But today i feel very differently about all of it. Theres a reason that i started telling you about me, i just couldnt see it. So, here is the very brief part 2 of me. Heavily edited. For what its worth this isnt something that i do, i dont speak about me. But if you’ve read any of this and something in my story speaks to you then i am happy that i did.

Koyasan village - November 2010 - Premonition
Kotori’s family home borders the ancient forest that surrounds Okunoin cemetery. The village hovers there in the morning mist like a vision conjured by a demon.

We share a lunch with her family and talk eagerly about our plans for the coming evening. It has been decided that we will spend the night in the forest on the southern side of Okunoin, it is Kotori’s wish to perform an evocation, a local Kami is her focus of attention. At nightfall we cross Gobyobashi as we have countless times before over the past year. The bridge is the doorway between two worlds. This is familiar territory and we cross in silence with only the occasional glance of assurance and trust passing between us. Something happens during the evocation, something I did not experience, so to speak. I can still see her, beautiful and confident and completely trusting of her own abilities. Surrounded by death and yet so full of life. Addictive and fatal. She turned to me and i smiled stupidly back at her before I saw the uncertainty. She wasn’t smiling and the beautiful mask she always wore had crumbled. We were thrust into the shadows.

Her vision was of the dead walking out of the sea. She would spend weeks persecuted by this vision and would withdraw into herself. At the end of December Kotori would leave hurriedly for Hokkaido and she would never return.

February 2011
I had taken to visiting her mother at every opportunity I could. We were always very fond of each other and I knew that she needed me as much as I needed her. In mid February I would receive word that Kotori was in Ashoro district, Hokkaido. I could not leave things as they were and my decision to go to her then was made. I would tell myself that it was because I needed answers but I know it’s because I missed her terribly. And so, in the last days of February, I left Osaka with grand plans of bringing her back.

March 2011 - Hokkaido - Death
A week passed and nothing. I did not find her. She seemed to have just vanished. The last anyone had seen her was on the evening of the 7th. And then she was just gone.

March 10th
My dreams are plagued by a carnival of demons.

March 11th
Everything feels wrong. The air tastes of electricity with undertones of violence.
A little before 3 that afternoon the ocean would come to take back the land, swallow it up and the people with it. Kotori’s vision would become all too real.

Osaka - 2012
Isobelle and Erin would return to Malta. I would not. I worked and travelled and eventually in bitterness I would forget myself and the dead.

Norway - 2016
I was staying in Rekkevik. I went for a coffee and my life would change again. There are no coincidences! A man, who’s face I would not remember under pain of torture, got up to leave the cafe as i walked in. I eagerly took his seat and ordered. On the counter top precisely where he was sitting was a magazine which he had left open, presumably while reading through it. I glanced at the facing page and my childhood was staring back at me. A two page article on Malta and the diverse diving sites around Gozo and Comino. The island of the dead was calling me back.

Comino,Malta - 2017
I was hiking the northern coastline and decided to spend the day exploring the caves east of Santa Maria Bay. It was relatively early and I hadn’t had breakfast and so decided to stop and do just that. I was literally on top of the Julia caves when I heard what sounded like a woman’s voice calling my name. It was just a moment but it was very clearly my name.

Gozo, Malta - 2017
Isobelle and Erin moved to Naxxar, which was probably for the best anyways. I remained in the family home. I was guided back to my path and almost immediately an old night time friend/visitor returned.

2019 - Between eternities
I am between worlds. Drawn to a woman who’s heart I quietly steal a little each day and a woman who’s heart I know would eventually have been given freely to me, a heart that truly beat to the rythm of my own. I am caught between the living and the dead.


Makes me think of the Ghede Lwa who hold patronage over both sexuality and the dead. The two seem to be intimately linked and the mysteries regarding the link between the two are vast and Baron Samedi is an excellent door keeper to these mysteries.