It’s time to tell another brutal story of twisted New Zealand early 90s youth.
This story has been sitting with me for a while. I have never told it…
It’s just been there down in my guts as an embarrassing and twisted episode that I tried to forget forever…
But I’m going to own this… because it’s actually going to entertain you and make your feel things.
So I was 17. I had recently come off the streets, where I was living as a Gen X street kid, as detailed in the stories Gutter Boss and the ones following… If you haven’t read them scroll on back and read them now as it will give you the deep insight into my mindset at the time and set the scene.
This episode takes place a few months AFTER Worzel Wez, but just BEFORE Witchy Chin.
I worked at Wendy’s. I lived a block away in the downstairs laundry of a group of pseudo-intellectual university students. I lived between the washer and the drier in a huge mounded nest of moldy-smelling clothes I had bought from the Salvation Army. When it was cold I would burrow deep into the nest; when it got really cold, I would just put another old man suit on.
I lived in my Wendys uniform most days, and was given the name Wendy Pretendy, by the young Christians that would eat in the upstairs dining room and try to convert me. “Wendy Pretendy” because I said I thought God was awesome and he understood and loved me but I was not into following rules made up by churches.
So I was like Jesus.
And that meant that I would not join their little bible group of sexualy frustrated misery…I of course did not say that… but I didn’t need to… as I inferred it with a facial expression.
I still liked to talk to them, it annoyed them so much one guy called me Wendy Pretendy.
I told him Jesus is now angry at him, as it says"And the King shall answer and say unto them, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me… and as I am just a recently homeless Wendys guy, I’m definitely qualifying in the least category… and he thus you be punished by his dad, God.”
His jaw fell down in such shock and terror that I almost felt bad.
At boarding school I did six hours of Bible study a week for two years. So If your gunna come and start some some sort of Bible Battle Raps with me, you better be in the mood for rhyming.
They stopped coming entirely after that.
That made me feel like God was mad with ME and the Devil had his eye on me… and oh how right I was about that…as you will now hear…
I lived mostly on the left overs of the upstairs Wendys dining room, as my job was upstairs dining room cleaner guy. And clean I did. Pounding down all the scooped out baked potatoes and leftover taco salad lettuce I could eat.
Once someone actually left a fully uneaten and wrapped Junior Bacon Cheeseburger behind. They must have been a foreigner…. as no Kiwi would ever waste that much food. That made my day. I still remember it now, 30 years later.
It was a bit cold but I savored every bite, the bacon had hardened slightly…the mayo congealed, but the sugaryness of the bun pushed it through.
I relished every cold bite and the saving of two dollars.
I was literally eating money.
Ok thats the scene.
Onto this scene walked a girl. Straight black hair, black arty clothes…. a black lace choker…very white…well fed…big big tits… with that hunted nervous look of 90s parental abandonment and low self esteem.
I looked and her a few times and smiled.
She smiled back. Our damage beams crossed flows. There was an energy connection. Just two kids grinding through life on our leather asses.
We started chatting and I got her story…
She lived in some kind of big hippy share house on Waiheke island…
It’s always been a bougie sanctuary for the rich, a 40 minute ferry ride from Auckland…
Here’s a good website, so you can get the essence and I don’t have to try to describe it, because it’s really quite something. Learn up.
https://www.newzealand.com/int/waiheke-island/
She had gone to a Waldorf school her whole life. There were no warning bells at this point, but later in life, I was to decide that the kids who were products of these schools had a hard time fitting in with their fellow humans… not as bad as full blown bowl cut, sweater vest homeschool kids… but in the same ballpark… and they should be avoided at all costs.
You would be in someone’s kitchen at a party, looking for food to steal and suddenly someone in the corner would spout off some shit about the Roman empire dying out because of lead in the wine or that vikings did’nt actually wear horned helmets and it was just popularized because of a German opera or something and you would know you were dealing with one of these Waldorf spazzes.
She was now at some art school.
I cannot remember what combination of bardic lathiro words or phrases I uttered… or if it was just a raw mix of sparkly eyes technique and smiling…but she invited me to stay with her at her house tonight!
Madness. She was obviously insane. But then so was I, so bring it!
She hung about till I wrapped up work and we went down the street and got on the Ferry to Waiheke Island.
We stood at the front of the ferry and she spread out her arms with me holding her, way before it was a thing.
I was the king of the world.
She said didn’t really get on with her mum…who drove a taxi on the Island and was a Lesbian, but her mum would be picking us up and taking us to the place she lived.
Wow. This was NZ in the 90s. I had never met a real lesbian. But I had bought this ticket and was taking the ride…so I was ready to impress the lesbian mum of the strange girl who I was going to stay the night with…
The black taxi van pulled up and a tall good looking blond woman with short hair, and a black leather biker hat and a black leather vest and black leather pants got out and shook my hand strongly…
Her name was LYNX and she had me sit up with her at the front, where she asked me a million questions, finding each of my answers hilarious. This jazzed me up real good.
So she dropped us off at the hippie house that the gal lived in and it was a mansion! Decked out in native woods and massive windows, on a huge landscaped garden lot tucked away in the bush with amazing trees and plants. It was filled with soft hippie fairy lights and three bathrooms, each with a giant bath next to a big window overlooking the bush.
This was so wondrous it was messing me up. It was like some kind of mushroom fairy fantasy, but of course it was to get way more nuts as my adventures always seemed to do.
There was apparently no one else home! So she showed me around the hippie mansion and then her room, which was amazing.
The hippie boudoir extreme. It had its own hippie bathroom and a nice high balcony overlooking the forest and beach in the distance…
She drew us a massive bubble bath.. we got in and washed each other with nice hippie soaps. She told me to stay in there and soak because I reeked of Wendys…and she got out.
Then I heard her talking to someone in her room and lots of girlish laughing and shrieking… she had put on Depeche Mode… and now her and who ever it was were singing along.
I eventually got out. She introduced me to her friend. A tall big girl with massive boobs and tons of long red hair, wearing a flowing diaphanous fey gown… They were now drinking what they told me were “Tequila Sunrises”.
Something I had never heard of. But it was brightly colored layers of red yellow and orange, full of good booze and yummy.
Now dear reader - this does not go the way of the 90s Penthouse forum… as this is substack and this is not fantasy…. this is what actually went down, and I think it damaged me mentally and sexually. To this day I think it was some kind of twisted trick…and while I dont think I ever fully recovered … Im hoping this story has some kind of substack catharsis…
So they give me a tequila sunrise and I’m sitting on the bed watching them dance and sing to me provocatively… we talk…smoke hand rolled drum ciggies inside, because its the early 90s and we fucking rule… we laugh … dance and drink … on and on twirling into the dark night.
I felt like I was under a spell of some kind. I have never felt so ENSORCELLED in my life…
One does not become ENSORCELLED in regular human existence… but I was on the fringe.. and thus in constant danger of ENSORCELLMENT, as I tell of in many of my stories.
Ok so where is this going? This is not what I thought was going to happen… I thought there was going to be a romantic night with walks on the beach and then awesome all night repeated sex with my new girlfriend that I had just met in the Wendys Dining room that day.
Because that’s how we rolled.
Anyway they decide it’s bedtime… they strip off to panties only … bra off boobs out…and tell me that I can wear my boxers and sleep between them but no touching allowed.
Now this bed is a queen… but both girls are lanky and tall and bigger and way better fed than me… so I’m kind of squashed in the middle and they both turn to face me and say …
“Put your face between our boobs.” Yes we would say boobs back in early 90s NZ…
Ok… so at this point I’m kind of stressing out… like what the fuck is this…?
But I think maybe its like a crazy sex game thing and the rewards for my obedience will be unbelievable…
There was no prior signs that anything like this was going to happen so it was really confusing me… but anyway… I spent some time putting my face in between their boobs, with no other touching or anything… until I was half out of my mind.
Then the gal said “Ok you can cuddle up to us but you aren’t allowed to shake or move or try to have sex with us.”
That was hard. Excuse the pun. But I managed.
I switched over from one to the other. Cuddling through the night.
It was an excruciating combination of erect restraint to not shake or move or try to have sex.
But it was also bliss. I knew in my heart that it’s unlikely any 17 year old in the world would ever have had or would have this experience.
But all night I was praying something more would happen. Nothing did.
Morning came, they were up and dressed and had made us an amazing breakfast of french toast, tea and fruit on the balcony overlooking the forest and beach.
So we ate that and I was just a quiet ensorcelled spaz.
What now…? I was a good boy all night.. there must be a reward.
Maybe Tonight!??! I thought… it’s all a test…
The gal said “Well I have lots of art school stuff to do, so can you take him back to the Ferry?”
The other gal said “Sure”
I was so confused… I just said “Thanks for the great night”
… and shook her hand! Like the emasculated spaz that I had somehow become.
Irreparably Brain damaged from an entire night of Jizz backed up into my brain most likely…
And we rolled out in her blue VW beetle to the ferry.
In the carpark before getting out I had regained some of my wits and I turned to the redhead and said…
“So what the fuck was last night all about really…. like what was going on… I dont get it?”
She said “Kiss me and I’ll tell you.”
I leaped at that opportunity and when I drew back for breath she said.
“There is nothing to get…we are Witches. Now get out of here or you will miss the ferry”
My exact thoughts were :
“Fuck this!….Fucking WITCHES? What … The … FUUUUUCK!”
I got out… horny and annoyed and got on the ferry.
I looked back to the island that now seemed to have a sinister cast… the leather clad mother… the strange brightly colored potions of the tequila sunrise… the frozen images of the massive boobs in my face, the feeling of big bodies with me trapped in the middle.
I had lived a rough life and experienced many mad things… but nothing could have prepared me for this. It was a true witchy spell. Sorcery of the first order.
I had some kind of mental episode on that ferry on the way back.
Fuses blowing in my brain…
An awesome mental fragmentation to pancake on top of the rest….
What saved me was one week later I was in the arms of another redhead witch, as detailed in the story Witchy Chin.
That was healing of the first order, and from there on I sought out red headed witches when ever I could.
Which of course must have been part of the witchy spell…
Raven hair and ruby lips
Sparks fly from her fingertips
Echoed voices in the night
She's a restless spirit on an endless flight
[Chorus]
Woo hoo, witchy woman
See how high she flies
Woo hoo, witchy woman
She got the moon in her eye
She held me spellbound in the night (Woo-ooh)
Dancing shadows and firelight
Crazy laughter in another room (Woo-ooh)
And she drove herself to madness with a silver spoon
[Chorus]
Woo hoo, witchy woman
See how high she flies
Woo hoo, witchy woman
She got the moon in her eye
This is what my millennial "sexual" encounters were like. You get a girl and she wants you to put a hand down her pants... you don't touch anything, you don't rub anything, nothing, it just sits in there. One girl wanted to drink shots off my chest and we cuddled. A couple girls would inquire what I had downstairs, asking questions about length, girth, curvature. I'd tell them, and they'd giggle about my embellishments, and I'd offer to prove it if they wanted, but they never actually wanted anything beyond their own line of questioning.
Then I found my wife and we're happily married and the pregnancy test is going to read positive any day now. Life is weird.
Jim Morrison has nothing on these Waiheke Witches...