Skip to main content
RITUALS OF THE ANTITHETICAL Reading: "Sibyl of Doom" from the novel Rituals of the Antithetical (A.Glass 2023)
“Pull out slowly,” she
asks, opening her eyes.
As the man, in a gradual
manner, slides his slickly covered penis from Zabel’s vagina, as
she remains lying on her back, with her legs propped up, angling her
pelvis. Zabel rests have hands onto to her chest, breathing calmly.
“I gotta head off...Could
I use your bathroom?”
“Of course, but you can’t
have a shower. Can you do that elsewhere. I need to be quiet
for a moment,” she requests, as the man looking slightly perplexed
looks around for his underwear and trousers.
“Ok” He replies,
lifting up his clothes from floor, making his way to Zabel’s
en-suite bathroom, closing the door as Zabel stares up at the
ceiling, feeling her heart rate return to normal as she gently
breaths through her nose.
Moments later the man, now
fully dressed looks down at at Zabel, who is still naked on her bed,
he checks his phone.
“Maybe, next week, we can
get a drink. Hang out?”
Turning her onto her right
side, looking up at the man. She smiles.
“We’ll see”
“Alright...I’ll see ya
around,” the man says, leaving Zabel’s apartment.
Hearing the door close
behind him, standing Zabel places her right index finger over the
entrance of her vagina, making her way to her living room, where her
altar is located atop of a small bookcase, lifting from the left-hand
path sanctum with her left hand a ruby red ornamented crystal glass
with a crimson velvet material over its top, slightly crouching
down, Zabel places the glass between her thighs, releases her right
finger from her slick entrance, gently squeezing her vagina, as a
clump of congealed semen and her own juices drips down into the
waiting glass, the creamy mixture melding with the red reflection of
glass’s interior, satisfied that most of the sexual fluids have
filled the glass. Zabel, places the glass between a black Obsidian
crystal on the left and white Howlite crystal on its right side, the
Obsidian representing the void and darkness of the left path, the
white Howlite, a linkage to the light and dark realms. With its
erratic lines, showing there is no perfection, in the seeking of
spiritual and parallel alignments. To embrace imperfection, is in
its self, rebellious power. She then reaches over to the rear of
her alter lifting up a bottle of dark Rum, removing the cork with her
right hand, she pours the small amount of the dark amber liquid into
the glass, with her left hand, she takes a copper spoon from a small
metallic bowl and gently mixes the sexual juices and Rum. To
complete the ritual, Zabel lifts with her right index and thumb a
single Oud incense stick, with her free hand she picks up a lighter,
igniting the end of the incense. Placing the lighter back down onto
the altar, with her right hand, holding the incense over the crystal
glass, she creates three full circles in an anticlockwise motion,
representing the antithesis of her world. The sliver between realms.
She snubs out the incense, placing it down, lifting the ceremonial
glass with her left hand, she drinks the fluid. Swallowing it down,
she walks over to where her kitchen sink is, washing the glass under
the tap, drying it carefully with a paper towel, she places the glass
back into her alter, draping the red velvet sheet over its top.
Zabel makes her way back to her bedroom, noting a warm breeze blowing
in from the North West, as her curtain lightly waves in a spectre
like manner. Lying back down onto the bed, she covers her self with a
bed sheet, closing her eyes, she begins to meditate, clearing out all
thoughts and allowing her arousal to gently dissipate, before she
attempts to go into a visionary sleep. Slowing her breathing and
heart rate, feeling serene and safe within her resonation. Zabel
begins to fall asleep.
___
Comments
Post a Comment