This powerful fairy queen manifest her invisible queen’s court in the middle of the woods and conjures a beautiful lover from a pile of tree branches and dances seductively until she is tired of her and transforms fer back into a smoldering pile of ashes. Dancers: Angela, Christina Johnson Music: W.T. Rozar
Four witches gather in a clearing in the woods to dance around a bonfire. Models: CJ, Angela, Leeanna, Anastasia
Gestation. Model: Lethe
In the secret realm where life begins, A dance of cells, a symphony within.
Embryo, a whisper in the cosmic tide, A metamorphosis, where mysteries abide.
In the womb’s embrace, a canvas bare, The alchemy of existence, beyond compare.
A journey unfolds in the silent night, From the spark of creation to the dawn of light.
Tiny tendrils weave tales untold, A waltz of genes in a mystical fold.
In the sacred cocoon of maternal grace, Life emerges, a delicate embrace.
A pulse of potential, a heartbeat’s start, An ode to life, a masterpiece of art.
The embryo’s ballet, a cosmic rhyme, A miracle unfolding, transcending time.
Cells divide, a cosmic ballet, A choreography of life in a graceful array.
Limbs form, a sculptor’s sweet refrain, A transformation, a celestial gain.
Oh, embryonic symphony, celestial ball, In the cradle of creation, where wonders enthrall.
A dance of life, a poetic grace, In the earliest stages, a sublime embrace.
As the embryo awakens, a star is born, A testament to the cosmic morn.
In the tapestry of being, a story takes flight, A metamorphosis, a journey to the light.
Naked Dungeon Dancers – Models: Kay Ace, Jinx Spectere, Olinka Lickova
A disturbing nightmare of being trapped in a mechanistic black void. Model: Jemstarlight Moon
A wood nymph wakes up in her bed in the middle of a magical forest. She walks through the forest and gathers up her clothes to get dressed for the day. Model: Lenny Langley
We shot this video in a public park one lovely summer morning. There was only one person hanging out by the falls when we started but we asked him if he minded the girls getting naked and of course he didn’t. We invited him to watch as long as he stayed out of the shot, for which he was happy to oblige. A few more people passed by during the course of the shoot but they all respectfully kept their distance so as not to interrupt the shooting. A wonderful time was had by all! Models: Astrid, Jane, Starla
A Goddess Dances in the Meadow. Dancer: Christina Johnson
In the meadow’s gentle cradle she twirls,
A goddess in the sunlit swirls.
Beneath the vast and azure dome,
Her dance, a hymn of nature’s poem.
Soft grass cradles her nimble feet,
A tapestry of green, a cushion sweet.
The sky above, a canvas blue,
Each pirouette a tale anew.
Her silhouette, a grace untold,
A symphony in green and gold.
The forest’s edge, a silent crowd,
In hushed reverence, they’re endowed.
Tall trees stand like guardians wise,
Whispering secrets ‘neath the skies.
Leaves applaud in the rustling breeze,
Nature’s ballet among the trees.
Sunlight weaves through branches high,
Casting shadows where dreams may lie.
The goddess spins, a radiant sprite,
Embracing day, kissing the night.
In this meadow, a sacred trance,
She dances, lost in nature’s dance.
A goddess in the soft grass sways,
A celebration of eternal days.
Jessa did a spontaneous demonstration of her amazing hooping skills using two hula hoops. Model: Jessa Ray Muse
Inferno Salutation
In twilight’s grasp, two maidens fair, Virgins pure, in whispered air.
Above the flames, a ritual dance, Salutations woven in fiery trance.
Gentle flickers, embers rise, Reflections gleam in fervent eyes.
Innocence draped in sacred shroud, They tread on ground, the unhallowed crowd.
Around the pyre, secrets untold, Mystic whispers, a tale unfolds.
A dance of spirits, shadows cast, In the smoldering fire, memories amassed.
Gowned in white, a celestial grace, They twirl and weave in sacred space.
Each step a hymn, a silent prayer, In the inferno, destiny they share.
The flames, they hunger, lapping higher, Anointing the ritual with mystical fire.
Sacrifice made on this sacred night, Two souls ablaze, their spirits take flight.
As embers ascend in the ethereal night, The virgin women merge with the light.
Consumed by flames, a transcendental pyre, They become one with the celestial choir.
In the stillness, the smoldering glow, The remnants of souls, an afterglow.
A dance immortal, in the fire’s embrace, Two virgin spirits, leaving earthly trace.
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Dancers: Jenn Michelle and Crystal Nicole
Celestial Storm
In the realm where mystic currents intertwine,
Lethe, the sorceress, weaves a dance divine.
A crystal orb, her conduit to the unseen, Channels energy, ethereal and serene.
Out of thin air, she summons power untold,
A dance of magic, a tale to unfold.
The atmosphere quivers with electrical might,
As Lethe commands the forces of the night.
Her fingers, like tendrils, grasp the arcane,
Drawing forth lightning, a celestial reign.
The crystal pulses with a mystical glow,
As energies swirl in a mesmerizing flow.
Bathing in the ecstasy of electric embrace,
Lethe surrenders to this cosmic grace.
A shower of energy, sensual and wild,
A symphony of magic, unrestrained and styled.
Arcane currents cascade, a sensuous tide,
As Lethe, in rapture, begins to glide.
Her silhouette dances, a silhouette of flame,
A sorceress, untamed, in the cosmic game.
The air crackles, charged with enchantment,
As Lethe, in reverie, transcends the present.
Her essence merges with the pulsating stream,
A sorceress’s dream, a mystical gleam.
Model: Lethe
Damnant Quod Non Intelligent
In shadows cast by the unlit corridors of knowing, They condemn what slips through fingers of comprehension, Words entwined in vines of uncertainty, Damnant Quod non intelligunt, the silent chant.
A labyrinth of misunderstood whispers, Confinement in the narrow alleys of judgment, Echoes reverberate in chambers of ignorance, The disoriented stumble on uneven ground.
Disaffection blooms in the garden of misapprehension, Petals of understanding fall, unclaimed, Faces etched with the weight of unspoken judgments, A disquieting tapestry woven with threads of conjecture.
Locked in the dungeon of shallow understanding, Truth stands as a specter, veiled and obscured, While minds strain against invisible tethers, Condemning the unfamiliar to the prison of dismissal.
In this landscape of fractured cognizance, They condemn the foreign, the uncharted, Yet beneath the surface of their certitudes, A sea of undiscovered worlds ebbs and flows.
Damnant Quod non intelligunt, a refrain of caution, For in the realm of the unknown lies the genesis, Of compassion untold, of bridges unbuilt, Where understanding might yet unfurl its wings.
Stills from The Gift of Eros. Models: Sondra, Mandii Monarch, Jemstarlight Moon
Road Wraiths
On a moonless night, beneath a canopy of twisted branches, we found ourselves on a desolate road that snaked through the heart of an ancient forest. The air grew heavy with an eerie silence as our car’s headlights cut through the oppressive darkness.
As we ventured further into the lonely abyss, shadows danced on the periphery of our vision. Pale, ethereal figures emerged from the trees, their ghostly forms bathed in an otherworldly glow. Their beauty was haunting, a spectral allure that seemed to transcend the boundaries between the living and the dead.
The women, with flowing hair and eyes that glowed like forgotten stars, lined the sides of the road. Their spectral hands reached out, fingers beckoning with an irresistible pull. Mesmerized, we couldn’t resist the allure, as if the very essence of the night compelled us to follow.
The engine hummed, and the tires whispered against the asphalt as we succumbed to the enchantment. The forest enveloped us in an inky blackness, the trees closing in like sinister sentinels. A haunting melody echoed through the air, a mournful symphony that seemed to emanate from the very depths of the woods.
As we delved deeper, the apparitions’ once-beautiful faces contorted into twisted masks of malevolence. The air turned frigid, and the seductive whispers became chilling warnings. Panic set in as we realized we had been ensnared by a spectral trap, lured into the heart of a forbidding realm.
With each passing moment, the road seemed to stretch infinitely into the inky unknown, and the apparitions’ taunting laughter echoed through the desolation. It became clear that our journey had taken an ominous turn, and escape from the grasp of these ghostly sirens would not be easily granted.
In the heart of that haunted night, our car hurtled forward, surrounded by the haunting beauty of the specters, as we faced the unsettling truth that we had become unwitting travelers on a road that led not to salvation, but to a realm where the boundary between the living and the dead blurred into a nightmarish tapestry of the unknown.
Snow Dance on Mountain Lake
On a moonlit night atop the frost-kissed peaks, a clandestine coven of snow witches gathered by the edge of a frozen mountain lake. The air crackled with the anticipation of magic as they encircled the shimmering ice.
Barefoot and barely clad in flowing black attire that seemed to defy the biting cold, the witches began their ritualistic dance. Spirals of enchantment twirled around them as they moved with unrestrained grace, casting spells upon the icy surface beneath their feet.
The pale moon witnessed their provocative dance, the flickering shadows playing on the glistening snow. The witches’ laughter echoed through the frozen expanse, and their dark silhouettes swirled in a hypnotic rhythm. The chill of the night seemed to bow before their bewitching energy.
As the music of their spells intensified, a light snow began to fall, delicately gracing their raven tresses. The flakes adorned them like crystalline jewelry, adding an ethereal quality to their wild celebration.
The lake mirrored the spectacle, its frozen surface reflecting the swirling vortex of magic that enveloped the witches. Unfazed by the freezing temperatures, they reveled in the elemental dance, creating a spectacle that blended the magical and the sensual.
The mountain itself seemed to hold its breath, captivated by the enchanting display unfolding on its slopes. And so, beneath the veil of falling snow and the watchful gaze of the moon, the coven of snow witches continued their wild, otherworldly celebration, leaving behind whispers of mystery and magic in the crisp mountain air.
Dancer: Christina Johnson
