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Also by this Author;

Painful Pleasures, Femdom Short Stories. Volume One.

Hearts and Souls:

Lesbian Encounters Anthology

Eden Heart

Hearts and Souls: Lesbian Encounters Anthology, Volume One is a Copyright ©Eden Hart and Cover artwork © Creature Ads on facebook.

The rights of Eden Hart to be identified as the author of this work have been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without prior permission of the author.

E-mail- edenharteroticaauthor@gmail.com


Heartfelt thanks to the incredibly talented designer at Creature Ads on facebook for the cover design.

It does not matter where we live in this world; we always have that one friend who is as important to us as a family member. I have this special and extremely unique kind of friend in Sarah Harvie, who lives across the pond from me in the United Kingdom. If not for her constant pestering for me to write stories of the Lesbian genre, which she drove me insane with for over two years, I would never have started writing Lesbian Fiction! I have truly enjoyed penning each and every short story and of course, The Pink Rose,

A sincere thank you Sarah for all your encouragement, impressive editing skills and, also, your suggestions for my storylines in not only my erotica, but other novels I have written under an alternative Pen Name. Your editing helped bring my stories to life, Thank you.

Editing is your calling in life Sarah, something that you are extremely talented in and you should be so very proud of your accomplishments.

And once again a huge thank you to my Reader, Trish Burton- the poor bugger never knows what to expect to read when I send chapters off to her, but she loves them all!

Blasia the Seeress (Wicca)
The Matron and the Nurse
A Country Practice
Interlude on a Train
Happy Valentine’s Day
Eva and Josie
An Angry Kind of Love
A Truly Gay Christmas
On a Hot Summer’s Afternoon
Scent of a Woman
The Restaurant and the Lady
The Forty Year Old Virgin
The Picnic
The peeping Landlady
The Gynaecologist and the Receptionist

Blasia the Seeress

As I was seated by the kitchen window working on a potion for the Summer Solstice, Melusina entered the room and closed the door behind her. She walked towards me, slowly untying her robe letting it fall to the floor and stood before me naked. Pulling the ribbon out of her hair, she let it drop and I watched as it cascaded down her back. I could feel the sexual energy emanating from her body; it was as though a sudden tempest had shot through to the core of my being. I had never met a witch that had ever given me reason to desire her as much as this temptress did.

“You do not want me my queen?” She asked, her head bowed in respect. Her voice was almost a whisper and sultry in its timbre. Those emerald eyes of hers looking up at me, touched my soul and I was momentarily tempted to reach out and touch her, but I knew that we had to wait until the Midsummer morn.

“My impatient virgin princess, yes it is Midsummer’s Eve, but we must follow the ways of old. I cannot lay with you until after midnight. We must respect and follow our traditions and lore. You will enter into your womanhood when the time is right. Settle the fire in your soul and loins; the flames of lust will soon be dowsed after we welcome the reign of the Oak King.” I promised.

“But my queen, it is now one month since my first Saturn Return. I am almost thirty years old and one of the oldest virgins in all covens. I have sated myself, of course, but I am still with my virgin shield deep within my cavern. It must be broken for me to reach the next level of learning. I am frustrated and yearning your touch.” She explained.

“Wrap yourself in your robe and be quiet. I understand frustration and need. It is not the role of the novice witch to entice and instigate the Virginal Rites with her queen. I am your queen and it is at my behest when we begin the journey into your muliebrity.” I responded.

Angst and frustration tormented her mind. I could understand her emotions, for I was once in her shoes as a novice, so I was speaking to her from my own experience. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and centred my concentration on the spell I was about to cast on my protégé.

Melusina was a strong witch and one day, she would rule the covens of the world, but until my death I was the Queen of the Witches. Using my magic, I lifted her off the floor and pushed her across to the chair in the centre of the room, adding a mute spell to keep her silent. I could feel her fighting against my spell with all the power she possessed, but her magic was not yet powerful enough to defeat mine.

Returning to the potion, I added linseed fumes, fleabane seeds, roots of violets and parsley and mixed them in my pestle. This potion would help me to foresee things that were to come with my prophesying for the covens, the first night after the summer solstice.

“Watch and learn from my actions. I have foreseen your future and if you are to rule our world as I do, you need to grow your strength of power and knowledge. To learn of the ancient ways of our craft, is to know that you will be the strongest witch of all. This I will teach you. The union of our bodies wilt wait.” I explained to the girl.

“You need to learn to control your desires and rein in your will. Trust your instincts and connect with your inner spirit. Gauging your life by the fire of your loins makes you vulnerable and easily taken by those who would want to usurp your powers. This they can do without much ado from the essence of your orgasm. That is the time when a witch’s spirit and strength is at her lowest ebb. This is when you need me to be the chaperone of your soul. I am the only witch who can teach you the power of protection. You have many powers that still lay dormant within you; I will bring them out one by one over these next years. You will be as powerful as I am now, but this strength takes responsibility and to learn this too I will be your guide.”

Melusina’s thoughts told me that she wanted to learn all that I could teach her and felt regret for dishonouring me, promising to make reparations for her behaviour that night when she was to worship my body.

I could not help but appreciate her beautiful breasts. Her areolas were large and bright pink, her nipples erect and begging to be moistened by my tongue. She draped her left leg over the arm of the chair, the other she moved far to the right, opening them far enough apart for me to see the dew of her essence glinting in the light of the fire. She looked at me smiling, her gaze showing the fire of lust. She was a beacon of love, of pure femininity, but she would have to wait until after the midnight hour before her inauguration into womanhood. Though she was deliciously tempting...

Looking away from her, my thoughts returned to the celebrations of that night. We were also blessed with the Mead Moon falling on Midsummer’s Eve. The full moon is what accounted for Melusina’s lascivious behaviour. This I understood. One day she would too.

Several covens had already arrived and I waved to them through the window. The women were stacking oak and fir branches in the field by my cottage, preparing for the Midsummer’s Eve dance ritual around the fire. The sacred old oak tree out in the meadow stood proudly watching over them, its leaves moving gently as the soft breeze from the outgoing Holly King, blew softly through the air.

This was the time when the fire of passion and romance was in the air and the longest day and shortest night occurred. Each year during, and before my reign, many celebrations were held by the sacred oak tree. It would soon be time to give thanks to the return of the sun as the earth shifted from winter to summer. Honey mead by the barrel was being rolled under the tree to drink during our celebrations and to honour the Mead Moon. This was a time of renewal and the equinox also added potency to the power of any spells we were to cast.

Midsummer night would see many covens unite as one and dance around the fire. Dagda was playing the song of the coming changeover of seasons, his soft tune sang through the breeze. Holly King, the God of the Waning year was weakening as he readied himself to withdraw into the wheel of the stars, awaiting the Winter Solstice for his rebirth. The Oak King was patiently waiting for the dance of the fir and oak to welcome his arrival. I could already feel his fiery strength as his flaming fingers sent their warmth to the earth.

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