Sophia

Chapter 1: The Demi-Urge

I have sought you for millennia. Threading my way through all the souls on earth to bind you to me, my Sophia. Seeking that one blinding moment of union with the woman-soul of the creator of all. In my arrogance I pursue you, wanting a communion that no other man can share, craving each sweet fluid of your body. Wanting to mingle in the joyous flow of that vagina which gave birth to the whole world and which still has room for so many lovers. I want to disappear inside you, to dash myself on your infinite bosom and resurrect myself in that ultimate moment of oblivion as all I am pours into your searing hot cavern.

I have leaped across centuries; living, remembering, forgetting, waking. Sometimes the bed beside me feels warm, and I hear your laughter retreating into the distance. That sound of seduction and challenge. You are never far from me, I feel you. And yet you lead me through this dance, taunting me, fettering my heart and my prime member while in your voluptuous insatiability you possess hundreds as I watch, futile in my consuming hunger. Man after man is lost on you, gives you his mind and you hungrily take it. Performing all sins, even the most delicious. Your fecund spray drenching all and giving nothing. Leaving behind husks of flesh. Who forget all, but are never again to be satisfied by mortal flesh.

But I alone remember you. I alone, Saint-Germain have been with you, have seen all that you became and become. See your playground of lust and of love and the souls that you enlighten; the souls you corrupt. I alone was the demi- urge by your side when your foul mistake came into being. I attended your labour pains, and heard your terrible cry of anguish and of wanton ecstasy when from your womb, this rotten yet delightful fruit of existence was born. Earth mother, Gaia, Sophia, purity and yet dark corruption. Voluptuous flesh of which I have supped full, but not to satiety.

Before that moment, still long to come, I saw you at the right-hand of the Creator, when I was but a malformed spirit, not yet whole or real. Wisdom, serenity, sanctity, beauty were the graces that you possessed. An epitome, the balance of the Creator's logic and aloof calculus. But I had hardly begun to look. I did not understand then that perfection encompassed all, including evil. That to be truly pure meant to be perfectly corrupt. As Crowley I understood this later. In the past, that long time ago, I only looked from corners and cracks. Insubstantial, part of the unformed darkness that was yet to be trained.

The Creator did not see me. Was too good, not human enough to harbour suspicion. No gender, no seed, no life, just soul and spirit, eternal concept of formation and life. No, the Creator could not see me, would not see me. Not enough fear, pride, anger and envy. The Creator did not lust. But you did. You did have gender, the most deadly form of woman. Men are pathetic, weaklings taking their strength from your moment of surrender. They see themselves as taking, but they really are the submissive ones. Bending to your will. Standing at your command. Following blindly the call of your sensuality. All because of me.

Time had no meaning, but your need grew over the aeons that were not. Before form took shape in firmament. Before the 36 deccans took up their stations as the Creator sought to at least see that the terrible mistake we had wrought did not escape and spread. I saw you, watched your fingers and your mouth and your breasts. I saw how you plunged your hands into your aching chasm behind the Creator's back. Your desire was human desire. But at the same time immortal, as your flesh then was still as incorruptible as your mind was decadent.

In his ignorance the Creator did not see how unsatisfied you were. Did not know how to satisfy you. Your vagina craved an entire world to fill it, to stretch and tear and bring that sweet, destructive pleasure.

Then you saw me grow behind the Creator's back as well. I, an innocent without form, but slowly taking corruption and darkness from the crevices and hidden urges of creation. You, Sophia, saw in me the way to satisfy your own all- consuming desires. From all of the dark places you forced me out. You drew my spirit-matter into a ball in front of you. And you wrought upon me the first alchemic transition - from dark matter to blinding white. As I roiled and writhed against your will, you bared your womanly fountains to me and thrust me to their source. The milk flowed forth into me, and though I had no mouth, I coiled my insubstantiality around you, delirious as I inspired what felt to me both searingly painful yet blindingly ecstatic. I began to take on the form that would bring you the satisfaction you craved. As I submitted to the spell that you wrought with your breastmilk, so I became bound to you. Though physically stronger, you made me the weaker form, brought into being to serve your every whim.

But even after you suckled my spirit, and I lay at your feet panting in my new and unaccustomed shape, you saw that I was incomplete. I was embodied as neutral because milk only has the power to create chastity. It is too pure a substance to forge the carnal members. I saw you consider for a moment how best to proceed with the spell. I blinked with uncertainty and lay still, trying to comprehend the nerves and eyes and how these new limits might mean new freedoms. You let me lie in this way for five days, before approaching me again. Standing over me you began to stroke the foundation of your being. The seat of creation. The mound of Venus. And I saw them become red and flushed as you masturbated there, muttering syllables beyond my understanding.

With two hands you plied and kneaded that proud ruby, isolating the source of your hunger, the clitoris. I watched in perplexity, then with a dawning realisation as, at your climax, you cupped your hands beneath your vagina and collected every drop of nectar produced. The liquid was golden, viscous and glistened with a potent energy. You knelt on me then, and held your cupped hands to my mouth. How could I refuse to drink from you? The pain was excruciating as your menstruum flew down my throat. Fire spread through my every limb and I screamed in agony, clenching, rocking, trying to free myself. But the pain soon passed and a different sensation suffused my body.

It started from the pit of my belly and slowly, lasciviously traversed my limbs. A leisurely yearning that began to focus itself just below my umbilicus. I saw you smile. You could see the transformation occurring and you shivered with anticipation. Dipping three fingers into your vagina, you drew seven circles around the point of me that had become the focus of my yearning. Your fluids only caused a slight tingling this time. And at first there was little effect. But then you straddled me and lowered your pubis into contact with my neutral area. I felt a jolt run through me as your heat touched the now throbbing focus of my desire. I lost myself in wild pleasure as you began to rub yourself over me, over the place of unchaste pleasure. I could feel the energy building up between our two white-hot parts.

Then I felt it. The firmament seemed to shake beneath me as a tumescence of enormous proportions began to extrude from my formerly barren self. You sensed the growth between my legs and, with wild cries of delight, you redoubled the friction of your vagina on me. I started to thrust my hips up to meet you, I wanted to drive my entire being into the cavern that even still I was powerless to enter. A great turgidity now lay within me. I could feel it pulsing at the bottom of my stomach, aching to be free. First, the head of this wondrous monster pushed out of my flesh. As it began to condense at your entrance you concentrated your clitoris on the new point that now lay on my hitherto bare mound.

The feeling was now concentrated in the head of this new thing that you had wrought in me. Rapidly, as your rubbing continued at an increased pace, a pleasure like molten gold built itself. The feeling increased in intensity until it felt as if my belly were being split in two by this accumulation of pleasure. Your cries were once again nearing their peak and instead of your clitoris you now held my new head clenched at the entrance. I could sense through this tumescence the pulsating walls of beyond and this was part of the exquisite agony that now built itself. A few beads of fluid formed at the head of my new organ, making you redouble your efforts to pull it out of me and into yourself.

Breath whipped out of my body in great whoops, drawn irresistibly as it seemed that all the new blood in my body rushed downwards and into the great monstrous matter within me. At the moment that I felt I could breath no more and that the pressure must surely rupture my belly, a bolt of lightning passed through me from head to toe. My back arched to the point of breaking and with an agony of ripping flesh a blinding white column erupted from my belly and pierced your cavern in one vital spurt. Your cry of lustful, wondrous victory and ultimate pleasure vibrated through me and, as all my new senses screamed, a blazing stream of liquid left my body and entered yours.

At the touch of this wondrous fluid you seemed to explode into flames before me. Blinding light enveloped me as you shone in wordless radiance. At that moment, all your lusts had been fulfilled, you had reaped the first seed of creation. Boiling within you was my spirit, a new and harsh essence. Hastily, you lowered your catalyst onto my face and forced me to drink what had left my primal member. I nuzzled you greedily and sucked from you a mingled mixture of your own lust potion and my steaming seed. It was the final part of the spell, forever binding me to you, forever making me the weak one in pursuit of you. I was not the last to satisfy you, but with that unnatural kiss you became, at your lustful wish, the only being that could sate me.