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Message-ID: <62856asstr$1386504603@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Stereograph" <tomfool@hushmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} The Elder Gods Return {Stereograph} (Fsolo GodF)
Lines: 349
Date: Sun, 08 Dec 2013 07:10:03 -0500
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  This post represents the precursor to a group of related tales set
in a common story universe. It is set before the creation of that
universe and is a standalone story. At the time of this posting there
are four tales in various states of production with more bouncing
around my skull.
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  This is a work of fiction. No person, place, or situation depicted
exists outside the mind of the Author.
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<1st attachment, "Elder_Gods_Return.txt" begin>

----------------------------------------------------------------------
  This is a work of fiction. No person, place, or situation depicted
exists outside the mind of the Author.
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The Elder Gods Return (Fsolo GodF )

  Esmerelda Pickway lit her heroin laced marijuana cigarette and
leaned back to give it time to take effect. To warm up for the main
event, she stroked her labia idly.

  Esmerelda was not the name on her birth certificate, but who cared
except her mother. It had a kind of dark, gothy, sound to it. She
liked that. It sounded kind of witchy and Essie thought of herself as
a witch. She was planning on flying high tonight.

  God or Goddess? Incubus or succubus? Who did she want to have sex
with tonight? She rolled a mental die and came up with God, but which
one? She wanted a crafty one. A sly and unpredictable one. A trickster?
No, tricksters fooled you and Essie wanted to be enlightened, not
fooled. She began to create a sly, smart, god in her head. One that
knew things no one else did. To help herself toward her goal, she
rubbed a paste made of methamphetamine and sex lube into her labia. A
mystic god who had sacrificed something to gain insight into the inner
workings of the cosmos. One who knew the end of everything and kept it
to himself. Tonight though, he would tell Esmerelda and she would
become all powerful! She would be a self-loathing collage student no
more. She would outshine her Professors and their darling star
students forever more.

  The drugs were working now. She started rubbing in earnest as she as
she imagined her god. She'd heard of a god like that, but what was
his name? He was scarred by his trials that had led to enlightenment.
He was rough, and he'd play rough, so she pinched her outer labia as
hard as she could. She wanted pain! She grabbed the inner flaps and
twisted. That was good, but not enough. She searched the table beside
her and found the pestle with which she'd powdered the drugs. She
tried thrusting that into her vagina. It was too smooth. It caused no
pain, but it seemed the right thing to substitute for the penis of the
god. She still wanted pain too. She spotted a safety pin. She thrust
it into her nipple. That caused pain, but still not enough. She was
imagining the god thrusting into her and clawing her to give her a
taste of the pain he had endured to gain his knowledge, all the while
whispering the secrets of the cosmos in her ear. She could hear him,
but she couldn't understand him! She was thrusting the pestle
furiously. She dug her nails into a breast, drawing blood. She mustn't
cum, not until she understood the god! She needed more pain, that was
the ticket to grasping his words. She no longer remembered that she
was imagining the whole scenario. It had become real to her. The pin
wasn't enough, nor were her nails. The pin was still in her nipple, so
she grasped it an pulled. She still couldn't understand the god, and
at that point it all became moot. The pressure of her hand on her
clit, the motion and weight of the pestle, and the pain combined to
send her over the edge to orgasm. In her mind she came and came
without letup for the whole of eternity. Then she stopped. The god had
left her. She buried her face in her hands and cried.

                        *         *         *

  If Miss Pickway was not sure who the god she imagined was or what he
said to her, the God who most closely fit the description was making
one of his rare visits to Middle Earth. He was aware of her and was
disgusted by her behaviour, but not surprised. He'd seen it before.
He'd helped create mankind, after all. Known most recently as Odin or
Woden he'd seen the worst that man could do billions of times from the
first generation onward.

  Everywhere he looked the world was a mess. He'd seen it this bad
before. Every now and again the Gods had to stick a foot in and clean
the place up. Woden wondered if it was even worth the effort this
time. He was inclined to give up on man. He'd have to put the question
to the rest of the Divine Court the next time they met.

                        *         *         *

  Esmerelda realized she'd overdone it the night before as soon as she
woke. She only did drugs when seeking a mystic experience and she had
a massive hangover. If that was the worst of her problems, she could
live with it. It wasn't. She'd torn her left nipple and it was weeping
pus. It hurt! She'd done something wrong to her crotch too. She didn't
know if it was physical chaffing or a chemical reaction, but her was
red and sore. Her memory was fuzzy, but she knew she'd been crying and
depressed. She had failed to find enlightenment again.

  She showered and dressed in time to make her Gender Politics class.

                        *         *         *

  Woden sought and found the girl from the night before. She had
wanted to learn the secrets of the multiverse. She'd tried to
duplicate his method of learning them, but she could not sacrifice
herself to herself. She wasn't worthy to make or receive sacrifice.

  He'd decided he liked her attitude, even if she had everything else
wrong. He'd try an experiment. If her could turn her in the right
direction, perhaps he'd consider sparing the rest of mankind.

  She was in the campus library, Woden approved of that. He valued
knowledge. He pulled a book from the philosophy shelf and settled at
the same table as her. The ideas in the book he had were pure dreck.
No wonder man had gone astray. He looked at the tittle of the book in
her hands. He knew the ideas in that one were even worse.

  "What dost thou think of his argument about the nature of reality?"
he asked.

  "It's kind of hard to follow, but I think it's what I've been taught
all along," she said.

  "Dost thou truly believe reality depends on the perception of the
observer?"

  Esmerelda shrugged. "That's what I've been taught."

  "Thy teachers are fools! Existence exists. A rock is a rock no
matter what anyone thinks it is."

  "That might be true of physics. I don't know. How can anyone know
it's true of anything else? How can anyone know anything except what
they perceive?"

  "Perceptions may be wrong. Senses may be fooled. Inaccurate
knowledge may blind the observer to plain reality. The reality is
still every bit as real."

  "Prove it! Thinker after thinker has said different in modern
times."

  "The thinkers thou follow are self absorbed fools. Fools die! Come
with me. We shall look at the nature of reality."

  Esmerelda sensed that this was a special man. He knew something
beyond what she herself knew. That he knew things beyond what she had
ever had the chance to hear before. She also sensed that he was not a
safe man, that he was, in fact, very dangerous. She no longer cared.
She had sunk to a perception of her own failure that made her almost
wish to be abused, or even killed. She closed the book and grabbed her
purse.

                        *         *         *

  He took her to a hill above the library parking lot. This was
undeveloped campus land. It was kept mowed and little else. The glow
from the lot and building lights reached here dimly.

  "What dost thou see?" Woden pointed as he asked the question.

  "I see a rock."

  "Touch. What dost thou feel?"

  "A rock. You're not proving your point with this. How do I know the
nature of the object. How do I know it is a rock? The light is faint,
perhaps it is something else? Haven't you heard the old saw about the
blind men and the elephant?"

  "I am setting the stage, for now." Woden reached down and picked up
something. "What dost thou see?"

  "I see a leaf."

  "Not a scarf?"

  "I see a leaf. Am I wrong? Is it something else?"

  "Smell. Tell me what it smells like."

  "A leaf. Are you fooling me? Is that what your saying?"

  Esmerelda's head began to spin. Her vision blurred. The scent in her
nose seemed off. Woden asked, "What is in my hand?"

  "I can't tell! What have you done to me? Have you been fooling me
all along? Is there no leaf, no rock?"

  "There is a leaf. There is a rock. If thou doth spoil the working of
thy mind, thou canst not perceive any reality." Her head cleared and
the world returned to normal. "The story of the blind men and elephant
proves that insufficient knowledge yields untrue results. It does not
prove that truth is relative to the observer. The elephant remains an
elephant. If any of the blind men ran his hands over the whole animal
he would know that."

  "Do you mean to say the world we see is the world as it is? There is
no higher truth?"

  "The world thou doth see is real, if thy mind is not too clouded to
see properly. If the senses, or the mind that reads them, is befuddled,
thou wilt see falsehood. The world will remain unchanged. There are
things that canst not be seen. Air is too small for thy eyes, but it
is there. Things are hidden by being in places thou canst not go, but
they are real. There are whole worlds hidden by being where thou canst
not go. All this IS 'higher truth'. The foolish notions thou art
taught here are cheats."

  "That may be true of physical things, but what of values? You
haven't made the case, or tried."

  "The good is always good, the evil always evil. The trick is to
learn what validly belongs in which column."

  "Good and evil are relative. What is good for an orchid is not good
for a dog." Esmerelda was sure she'd trapped him this time.

  "Thou mistake perceptions for concepts. Values are concepts. Man can
conceive, dogs cannot but they can perceive. Orchids can do neither.
Neither dogs nor orchids can judge good or evil. Man can and must. To
mistake evil for good, or good for evil, is evil. It can only lead to
misery."

  "You're an absolutist! I bet you're a prude, a teetotaler, and a
homophobe! I'll bet you're Amish and that's why you talk funny."

  "Dost thou want to know truth? Dance with me!" Woden said firmly.

  He picked up a stick and tapped it on the rock rhythmically. It was
a wild rhythm and Esmerelda struggled to grasp it. He dropped the
stick, but the rhythm continued in her mind. He shucked himself out of
his clothes and began to step in time to the music. His steps and
gestures were frantic, yet in perfect sync to the beat. Horns joined
the beat in her mind, high horns and very low ones. The tune sounded
almost Celtic, but not quite. It was in a scale she didn't think was
standard, but she'd never studied music. She marveled at his movements
and at his perfect, nude, body. She was lost in these thoughts, and
becoming aroused by his dance, when he gestured for her to join in.

  One part of her mind reminded her that they were in full view of
anyone who cared to look. Another reminded her that her brief formal
involvement with dance had been a disaster. Neither voice ruled her
body. She shed her clothes as if they burned her. Naked, she tried to
grasp the rhythm with her feet. She failed for a time, feeling like a
marionette controlled by a drunken amateur. Then she found that her
right foot was falling on the proper beats. A short time later, she
stretched to the left at just the right moment. Little by little the
dance fell into place.

  HERE she touched the left toes to the side. NOW she bent forward
with her arms extended to her partner. Pierrette! Slide right! Lift
the right knee...and kick!

  There came a point where she realized that she had the dance down.
A few steps later she realized that the two of them were moving over
the ground in a pattern. Three measures later, he gestured her to him.
They clasped hands and turned round and round four times. He pulled
her into his arms, and the dance stopped, yet it didn't really.

  He lowered her to the ground. His eyes looked deep into hers. He
pressed his torso to hers, and she realized that she was fully
aroused. That she had been aroused throughout the dance. That he had
been aroused as he disrobed. She realized that he was bearing his own
weight, that he would crush anyone if he did not.

  He entered her. He filled her as she'd never been filled before, as
if she had been custom made to fit around him.

  "Look into my eyes," he said. Part of her mind felt the pleasure of
his motion, the rest was sucked into his eyes. "Do not flinch. Do not
blink. See thou the truth untainted!"

  She looked. She saw. She understood, this was her God, the one she
had sought! The frenzy she had sought, the pleasure, and the
knowledge. They were Him! This was the feeling she'd sought in drugs,
but drugs could only mimic it feebly. They were worthless to convey
the truth. The drugs took her inward. To find truth there, it had to
have been placed there at some time in the past. What she had been
filled with were lies, what she had seen through the drugs were the
same lies regurgitated.

  The pleasure in her body built steadily. The scenes in her mind
flowed. She saw worlds unguessed. She saw the making of the world she
walked upon. She saw that the Gods had made the world, and everything
within it, to follow an unvarying set of rules. Form followed function.
Up was always up. Male was male, female always female. Birds rode the
air because they were designed to fly. Snakes slithered because they
were designed to go were legged creatures were at a disadvantage.

  The wild music continued to run and echo. Their bodies continued to
move to the beat. The divine knowledge flowed to quickly into her to
grasp all at once. The pleasure built and it was not confined to her
genitals. Her whole torso felt each thrust. Her limbs felt the buildup
to her coming orgasm. Her fingers and toes contracted with each
thrust. This was the feeling she'd sought with drugs, fantasy, and
masturbation. They, separately and together, were inadequate. They
took her inward, and the love which made sex work properly was not to
be found there. Love, poured out and returned, was the magic. Love
shared with a man, true, dynamic love, could be a near match to it.
Nothing could fully duplicate it. Few mortals throughout the whole
existence of mankind had been granted this, and there would be no
repeat performance. She built and built. She passed the highest peak
she had ever achieved and built higher. The knowledge flowing from the
God informed her that her highest peak had been far less than the
human best. She had not really loved her partners, nor had they loved
her. The God loved her. She should love him, withholding nothing. She
gave in and poured all of her soul to him in love.

  Her orgasm involved every muscle in her body. The pleasure that
washed through her pulsed outward from her womb and reflected back to
it. It surpassed her grandest imagining. It seemed as if it never
would end, until it did. It had been perfect! She was the happiest
girl ever to live. She clutched Woden's body to her and basked in the
glow of their never-ending love. Snuggled tightly together, she fell
into a contented sleep.

  She woke sometime later. The lights in the library were out. Woden
was gone, but she did not feel abandoned. He still loved her. They
would never share another erotic interlude. He would never stop loving
her, and if she returned his love he would be there for her always.

  As she dressed she realized that her breast and crotch were healed.

  She could not stay here in a school that taught her lies about the
nature of reality. She had to find a way to live that didn't depend on
a collage education. Esmerelda was dead. The girl who had been her had
to rebuild her identity and become someone she could love. She had to
take what the God had given her and explore its meaning. Whoever she
truly was had been born tonight.

                        *         *         *

  Woden decided that mankind might be worth trying to lead back to the
path of righteousness. If the rest of the Divine Court agreed, He was
willing to try. If mankind, as a whole, failed to follow, it had still
been a noble experiment. Perhaps they would try it again with a new
start.

                                    ^
                                  G/|
                                 <| |
                                 / \|
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