Deborah​ K. Tash​​/White Wolf Woman

In Her Image Studio

A website of Visual Storytelling in Visionary and Spiritual Art Featuring Shamanic Art, Visionary Shamanic Art, Healing Shamanic Art, Spritual Shamanic Art and Jaguar Shamanic Art, as well as Goddess and Animal Totem Art, Mask, Spirit Guide and Sacred Sexuality.


This page showcases writing projects.



1970, Portland; trees and lush green. Sitting in a downtown park in the middle of the day watching the shadows as leaves gently moved in the afternoon breeze, my body responding to its caress. He walked up, a scruffy street person. Lank dark hair and indistinct features erased by lack of care, he began to talk to me. The all too familiar feel of the edge of crazy interrupted my calm reverie. He wanted to know my name. He wanted to touch me.

Feeling my reticence, he said, “You don’t want to talk to me because you are so beautiful.” Danger breathed into my silence. Something closed down inside me and I let him take my hand. It was warm and sweaty with a firm grip. He led me through the park, the trees witness to my capitulation. We walked to a parking garage across the street. It was well populated with cars as we walked into the dark back recess behind the rows where it ended in a concrete wall. The stale air was thick with the fumes of burning fuel, rubber tires and desire.

First he backed me up against the rough concrete wall, pressing into me so forcefully that I could feel every ridge and crack outlined on my back and buttocks, a slow burn. Then he kissed me, prying my mouth open with his tongue. The taste of past cigarette smoke and beer flooded my senses until my body began to respond. The heat rose as the juices began to flood between my legs. Desire in the dark.

He took me then, shoving his generous and hard cock up into me as I pulled down my panties. Not gentle sex but rutting against a wall. I couldn’t remember if we had even exchanged names. The taste of out of control sent me over the edge into climax, as he came. Then it was over and he was gone. I pulled myself together standing in the dark and then slowly walked back out into the light.

A five minute reading for Story


Deborah Tash



CHAPTER 4/Messenger

(First person/Messenger-Deborah scene change)

I’ve never felt so calm before. I can’t move anything but my eyes and yet I’m peaceful. The stone encasing my body has suspended not only my ability to move but also all of the self-doubt and terror that always clog my mind. I’m trapped in a strange place. I don’t know how I got here or what’s going to happen to me. I’m stuck in a solid block of crystal but suddenly I feel free! I’m free to feel my power and somehow it affects a mirror. I can see it in my mind’s eye even though I know the mirror is miles away from me. It’s up the river at the edge of the water.

There’s a man reflected in it. I can see that in my mind’s eye, too. I remember the heat of his body. How long ago was it when I was dancing in the bar with him? I was kissing him before the Goddess appeared and took me! I could feel his hardness against me and I wanted him. It was exhilarating dancing with him. He danced as if he knew the inside of my body already. We were making magic together on the dance floor. Then my eyes blurred and I felt Her sink into me. My vision of him changed to…something…I don’t know what it was. The air turned to liquid silk, sweet, fragrant and as thick as honey. It poured over my skin, saturating every inch. I could hear the buzzing of bees all around my head. I was wet and dripping with anticipation. I could only hold one thought in my mind:

(First person/Messenger-thought bubble)

“How would it feel to hold him inside me? How would he feel?

(First person/Messenger-Deborah)

My mouth was alive with the imagined sensation of his member sliding in and out…more delicious than the sweetest Chantilly and chocolate. When the Goddess possessed me, she found my sleeping sensuality and multiplied it with her presence. I was so ready for his touch. I could feel every hair on my body as the honeyed air slipped over me, my juices inching down between my legs. My skin tingled and hungered for his touch. The music in the bar thundered in my ears as I was surrounded by fantasy images of him and me together weaving in and out of the dance. As we danced, he moved closer and closer until I could feel the heat from his body barely an inch from mine. It ignited a release that seemed to originate in the center of my soul as the music rushed over us. Then he kissed me. The fantasies began to blur into his touch. The kiss grew wilder as I abandoned myself to his eyes. In his eyes I saw chunks of sky captured in the midst of an ice flow shimmering with lavender light. I suddenly saw the reflection of the Goddess in his eyes; Her ash grey eyes. She smiled and my body exploded with release.

I awoke here, wherever here is. It seemed to happen in an instant. I found myself immobile, encased in solid stone. My senses continued to reverberate with climax, the music and dance, with the memory of his body and his lips on mine. It washed over me, sinking deeper and deeper in waves against the shore of my being. Its pleasure sealed me into the heart of the stone. There was no panic in its aftermath, just a peace that smoothed away every question, all the “how, where, why, who”, rendered unimportant. Just peace, peace, peace…then came thunder.