Tag Archives: sekhmet

Goddesses

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We all channel archetypes during BDSM play, whether consciously or otherwise. They may be the heroes or villains from films, books or real life, characters we’ve absorbed into ourselves and adopted traits and aspects of when we’re in domme or subspace. You may temporarily take the form of a bound Batman or captured gladiator or Penelope Pitstop. You may become an Emperor or Catwoman or Severus Snape in those moments when you lose yourself (or, at least, those moments when you lose every part of yourself that isn’t that archetype). It’s a little like playing a role in a psychodrama of our own making, but somehow more intimate than that. These archetypes are facets of ourselves, worn proudly on the surface when we play, then packed away neatly alongside all our other facets when we’ve finished.

I’ve written about this side of BDSM many times, especially the Egyptian Goddesses whose legends inspire me. Well now I’ve drawn some pictures as well. Below is a small selection of the things you can buy with my drawings of the Goddesses Bast and Sekhmet printed on them, if you so wish. To see more, as well as a bunch of other BDSM art, click here.

bastandsek

Hormonal Deification

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There are times I become Sekhmet.

She is the flipside of Bast, the Ancient Egyptian cat Goddess, and is the less docile of the feline deities. Where Bast is the nurturing Goddess of love, motherhood, nurturing and fertility, Sekhmet is not. She is the bloodthirsty lioness. Where Bast is the creatrix, Sekhmet is the destructress. Where Bast is the gentle sunlight, Sekhmet is the blazing heat that scorches the land and burns away the skin and bones of the unbelievers. They are the same, and they are opposite. Bast and Sekhmet are facets of every single one of us, and archetypal corners of the infinite.

So anyway, there are times I’m Sekhmet. This is one of those times. By remarkable coincidence, I am also premenstrual. My hormones have conspired to make me very, very, very angry about nothing I can quite put my finger on. The most innocuous misdemeanor by an oblivious bystander will offer full justification for sending me into a murderous rage. I am currently quelling the urge to set fire to everyone and everything in my path with a makeshift blowtorch, and all for no discernable reason. Oh, the joys of womanhood.

Sekhmet, as legend has it, was thwarted by alcohol. During her rampage along the Nile, burning mortals and guzzling blood, she was only stopped when the river was replaced by booze. After drinking a bit, she curled up and fell asleep, and all was right with the world.

Take heed, gentlemen. It is for this reason that I am currently pouring wine down my throat, and that if you see me this week, you should buy me a bottle for your own safety.

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