Spectre let its attention drift through the infinite worlds. It could access every possible plane of existence, including those found only in the imaginations of sentient beings. The Thing could find anything ever created or thought of . . . It just needed to know where to look.

Time was not really a problem, for Spectre dwelt outside eternity and could recenter its consciousness to any point of any continuum. But sometimes it got bored with the endless tedium of searching. Consequently, it decided to create the thing it sought. Or, more precisely, cause it to be created.

The task of finding fools to do its bidding was a simple one. They were there in abundance; in every age of every world on every level of existence. Always there were those so blinded by the lust for power that they were easily manipulated into doing . . . practically anything.

Spectre concentrated on the tome that was so important to the fledgling witch Kanoe. It easily tracked the volume back through time to its source. Once it found the small coven that was otherwise lost in the mists of obscurity, it approached one of the younger, more ambitious members. Promises of power were enough to gain the young woman’s ear. A few carefully timed ‘miracles’ served to convince her Spectre had the ability to deliver on those promises. After that, the endless pleasures it showed her as it ‘instructed’ her in the ways of ‘magic’ were enough to bend her to its will. In the end, she thought it was her own idea to leave her coven and write a scroll detailing the ‘rituals’ she had learned.

Spectre took the unfinished work from its ‘protege’ just before she was arrested and burned at the stake. A life ruined all for the sake of the Thing’s desire for a document of false magics.

With the scroll in its possession, Spectre returned its attention to Shokushu. The cave it had told Kanoe of already existed on the island. A great gaping hole between two limbs of rock; from which a stream spilled and snaked its way down past the campus. It had picked the site due to its vaguely sexual aspect. A perfect place to set a scene of wanton debauchery.

With a careful application of its ability to disintegrate matter, Spectre carved a crude phallus from a large rock. Twisted and lumpy, yet smooth enough to be used for its obvious purpose, the stone implement was covered in grooves meant to channel a woman’s sexual essence into a bulbous hollow in the base. The Being wrapped the scroll around the vile-looking object and placed them both in an oilcloth pouch. Then it took the package a few decades back in time and placed it in a niche by the spring in the cave.

The stage was set. All that remained was to make sure the leading lady would appear on schedule. A few nights before the full moon, Spectre visited the plane of Kanoe’s dreams to remind her of its instructions.

“Find the stream at the edge of the forest and follow it back to the cave from which it flows. Inside the cave, look for a niche in the wall beside the spring; there you will find a scroll . . . “ It opened a portal from her dream to her reality to give her a brief vision of the cave. “You must make this journey on the night of the full moon and you must bring with you the garment stained with the blood of your innocence.”

Then, to make sure the witch awoke with this experience fresh in her memory, it spoke to her its name. Only two syllables of the dreadful word of madness registered before her mind snapped awake to avoid being consumed. Just two faint echoes of sounds whose meanings transcended human understanding:

Spec - tre

The young witch tosses and turns in her bed. The same dream over and over played in her head every night. Her eyes shot open as she sits up with a loud gasp leaving her lips. She gently brushes her long raven black hair away from her face, feeling the cold sweat on her body. Kanoe has been getting very little rest since her first night in Shokushu. The being she summoned took her virginity and now it feels like it was taking her sanity as well. Spectre, every dream ended with it's name which nearly tears her mind a sunder.

She thought by asking about the ritual it would all be over. The woman was not so sure about this 'energy' it kept telling her about. But, no matter how hard she tries to forget about it's directions, she wakes up quivering as the being speaks the instructions again. What was strange was how she knew what the cave looks like. Kanoe does not recall ever being near any cave in the forest but the memory was clear in her mind.

Kanoe shivers as she feels the dampness between her thighs. The being's voice was just as strong in her dreams as it was in person. The night of the full moon was tonight. What will happen if she does not go? Will the dreams continue? Was the dreams Spectre's doing or did part of her want to seek this strange power? No, that can't be it. The young witch isn't like that. She really wished she just burned the soiled undergarment, hoping it would end the dreams and this madness. But, that small fear that even if she did burn the garment would not end the dreams kept her from doing so. Kanoe sighs as she shakes her head. Fine, the being will get his wish.

Her day at school was quiet. She could swear she could hear her own heart beating as she sat in at each of her classes. Kanoe was not aware of anything around her as she kept thinking about what will happen tonight. After school, she returns directly to her room as usual and changes into her black robes. Once the sun began to set, the young witch walks over to the forest.

The woman went without shoes as the weather was still rather warm even at night. Her pale skin seemed to glow in the moonlight as she searches for this cave that was in her dreams. A small leather bag carried the item that was required for the ritual along with a few candles as she doubts there are lights in the cave. Her free hand was clenched tightly around her upside down cross necklace. She was nervous. Not about failing the ritual but more of what the ritual may require. The night with the being was an experience she never felt before. Her cheeks blush faintly as she remembers the feeling of her first climax. Was the ritual going to involve more of such...activities? What does this make her?

Following the stream at the edge of the forest, Kanoe blinks as she came upon the cave's entrance. It was exactly like the one in her dream. She had little choice but to continue if she were to find out more about these dreams she has been having. Once the witch was far enough into the cave to avoid the wind, she pulls out a small candle and whispers a soft word to spark it with a small flame. The cave was rather large and the candle only illuminated enough for her not to stumble should something cross her path. She follows the sounds of running water until she reaches the spring as directed. It did not take much searching to find the niche in the wall. Everything that she has been told has been true so far. Kanoe pulls out the pouch and looks inside to find the scroll and something else. Her eyes widen at the strange stone object, her cheeks flush slightly as the shape told of it's supposed use. Shaking her head, she sets the stone object asside and began reading the scroll.

Spectre watched from Beyond. The presence of its manifestation would likely only undermine the deception it was trying to build. Thus, as Kanoe began to read, the Thing read along with her, peering from outside reality. It was written in the simplest of the symbols the young witch had already learned while studying her tome.

To be a witch is to be a sexual being. In the old legends, those who practiced the craft were labeled consorts to demons and Devils’ concubines. Though the fools of the coven claim these to be lies, I have experienced the literal truth. My sisters deny their bodies and so they remain weak, but I have lain with the princes of Hell and learned to harness the power of pleasure.

The text continued in that vein for a while, almost like a journal or diary. The author described, sometimes in lurid detail, some of her ‘lessons’ and how she learned to feel the rush of energy that accompanied climax.

Soon enough, however, more practical passages began to appear. The first thing the author had learned was how to produce a focus - something to aid in harnessing her energy. The focus could take many forms, but its key ingredient was blood. Blood shed during a sexual act and subsequently suffused with the power of orgasm. To her lament, the author had discovered too late that the most powerful foci were made from the creator’s own virginal blood.

Once the focus was created, it could be charged by anointing it with nectar from the creator’s vessel collected during climax. For this purpose, the author created what she called the ‘hollow man.’ An illustration depicted an object quite similar to the one Kanoe had found with the scroll.

The young witch pulls a small journal of her own out as she uses her notes to help translate the runes. It did not take long as they were all runes she understood rather well. For an ancient scroll, it was rather easy to understand. She was not expecting it to be a diary of another witch. Why was this here anyway? A diary of the dark arts hidden here? Was much like something from a fantasy novel. Secret scroll in a place no one would ever look done by someone long ago for no real reason, sounds like a fantasy novel. Kanoe already knows things like magic and demons are real but she still had to question some of the methods these old mages and mystics used.

Kanoe bites down on her lip as she read the journal entry. A concubine to the devils? Was a true witch really like that? She never really thought of her body was something to flaunt about or bargain with. Such things sounded common and below her. The power of pleasure? It sounded ridiculous to her just as it sounded strange to her when the cloaked figure in her room mentioned it. Can she really do this? The entry mentioned how the other sisters refused and remained weak. The young witch always did have trouble controlling her spells...

This sounded so strange even to her. Her eyes narrow at the strange carved phallus. She couldn't help but look around in the cave, making sure she was alone. She couldn't believe she was going to do this. But, as long as no one else finds out... It may even end the dreams that have plagued her nights since that summoning.

The directions mentioned 'charging' the item with her nectar. It would be even stronger if mixed with her virgin blood though she was unsure how to do that when it's soaked in fabric. With a long sigh, Kanoe slips her panties off and sets them asside. She takes the soiled undergarment from her first night in Shokushu and wraps it around the bottom of the object where the nectar seemed to collect. The young witch remained robed as she takes the focus and positions it on the rock floor beneath her. The woman shivers as she slowly lowers herself down to her knees, the stone object lost within her robes. Lower she sat until she felt the tip of the cool stone rest on her netherlips. She stifled a soft cry as she slowly lets the tip part open her lips and slowly enter her body. Her body shudders as the cold thick rod spreads open her insides. Kanoe hopes that the rest of the spells do not require such defilement as screwing a rock.

Spectre watched with something approaching malicious glee as Kanoe reacted to the text of the scroll. As her expression flowed from puzzlement to disbelief, it thought it might have to resort to a more direct approach. But when she checked to make sure she was alone, it knew she mas hooked.

The extra-dimensional voyeur watched with fascination as she wrapped the item it had meant to be her ‘focus’ around the base of the collection tool, presumably the better to saturate the blood-stained cloth with her juices. That she chose to remain clothed as she lowered herself onto the stone cock suited its purpose nicely. Since Spectre had not manifested, it could see from every point of view. So, even as it watched Kanoe’s face twist in disgust and discomfort, it also watched her pussy lips stretching to accommodate the tip of the foreign invader she pressed against them.

Not only was Spectre’s view unobstructed by the witch’s robe, her own sight was. Thus she could not see the action it took to make sure her soiled undergarment appeared ‘charged’ when she had finished this preparatory step.

From the mind of an ancient alchemist, the Thing retrieved a reagent. Spectre inspired the man to concoct this quasi-magical substance through long months of vivid dreams. Of course he went mad before he could actually create the stuff, but Spectre could pull it from the realm of his delusions.

Not even the time required for the blink of an eye passed for Kanoe while the alien entity diverted its attention to accomplish this task. Thus, she had just begun to impale herself on the cold, unyielding rock when Spectre ‘returned’ to the cave. It opened a tiny portal beneath her robe, just above the stain on the fabric covering the base of the stone shaft. Carefully, so as not to splash any where it might alert the young woman, it sprinkled the reagent through onto the bloody cloth. When Kanoe’s nectar had saturated the garment, it would react with the substance to make the blood glow slightly and seem fresh.

Its preparations concluded, Spectre returned to watching passively. It anticipated the change of Kanoe’s expression from distaste to ecstacy as she drove herself to the orgasm mandated by the directions for charging her focus. An action that was but the first step in preparation for the ritual described later in the scroll.

The feeling was anything but pleasant. She was not expecting it to be any good afterall, she was fucking a carved rock. Kanoe felt more and more disgusted with herself as she slowly lifts her body and begins her descent onto the large stone phallus. The woman whimpers and groans softly in more pain than pleasure as her sex was spread open to accomodate the member. The item was not flesh but cold unrelenting stone making this process slow and tedious as she continues to lower herself back down.

Despite her own self disgust, her body was finally heating up slowly but surely. Her womanhood began to grow wet making the stone glide much easier into the depths of her body. The pain became pleasure as she began to bob up and down on the stone member. Soft pants escape her lips as her body began to glisten with sweat.

Kanoe hesitates for a moment. Did she feel something? It felt like her skin was tingling for a moment. She looks around again. Probably just paranoid. With a long sigh, she returns to her own masturbation. Her pants grew heavier until they became soft moans. Her cheeks blush in embarassment that she was in fact going through with this ritual. Nectar continues to trickle down the stone shaft. Her body quivers as she felt her insides tighten around the large member. The young witch bites down on her lip as she forces herself to keep going until finally her body could not hold back anymore. With a sharp cry, her juices began to gush down the focus. She takes long deep breaths as she lets the climax wash over her, slowly trying to stand back up onto her feet.

Unknowingly, Kanoe gave a grand performance for her unseen audience. The evolution of pain to pleasure was written plainly on her face and in her voice. Yet there was also a continual air of disgust and embarrassment about her countenance that made the transformation all the more enjoyable. Such emotional turmoil was exactly what Spectre hoped to create with its plan.

A plan that was progressing quite smoothly. The nectar that Kanoe’s sex produced in abundance flowed down the nooks and crannies of the stone phallus, quickly saturating the bloody cloth wrapped about its base. Even before she achieved orgasm, the reagent had begun its work, fusing her secretions with the dried blood. When she had regained her feet and could bring herself to look at what she had wrought, the stained garment would look much like when she had first beheld it: freshly stained with her virgin blood. Though this time, it fairly glowed with an apparent vitality or power of its own.

Kanoe sways slightly as she regains her composure. She blinks at the focus. The blood was wet once more? Not only that, it was glowing with a strange energy. Was the cloaked figure speaking the truth about sexual energy? She shakes her head to herself. It still sounds too ridiculous to her even with the glowing proof before her. So the focus was charged? Now, what to do with it...

The young witch knew very little about focus objects. She was more familiar with sacrifices. Were they similar? She sighs as she grabs the scroll and continues reading. The woman was in the dark, doing things she never even thought of before. Will this really lead to more power? She has went this far already. All Kanoe could do was study the scroll further in hopes of understanding these witches from the old times.

The scroll held few of the answers Kanoe sought, but it did explain the purpose of the focus. The charged focus was to act as a sort of prism, ostensibly helping to channel her energy more efficiently. But, it could only affect the type of energy it was charged with. Thus, it was the centerpiece of the ritual that followed.

The directions were simple, if distasteful. She was to concentrate on the focus and masturbate while chanting a few simple words. At the moment of climax, she was to direct all the pleasure she felt into the focus. If all was done correctly, the ritual would summon forth a demon to be something like a familiar to her.

She frowns in disapproval. Now she has to stare and focus on the stone phallus with her undergarment around it? Kanoe grits her teeth. The witch was really regretting the ritual back at her dorm room. If it were not for that cloaked figure, she would not be doing this now. The young woman was all for turning back and burying this thing so it is never found again. But, would the dreams return? She had no way of knowing and would have to wait till the next full moon if the dreams do return. Several nights of climaxing in her slumber was not something Kanoe wanted to do.

"Fine," She mutters to herself.

Kanoe reads the chant a few times and puts it to memory. Lifting her robe some, the young witch sits on her knees. A hand rests on her womanhood as she sighs softly. The first words of the chant leave her lips in a soft gasp as she slides two fingers into her moist sex. Slowly, her fingers curl inside her as she begins to stroke and masturbate. Her cheeks blush faintly in embarassment. She was unsure what a familiar would even do for her. That's assuming the ritual works at all. She never had much experience focusing anything into an object, much less her emotions. But, the student has no choice but to succeed lest she suffers more dreams from the cloaked figure.

It took a bit for her body to warm up to this act of self pleasing. She was still unskilled and was not fond of learning anymore about it. The chant came out in short pants and an occasional moan as she felt her own nectar begin to run down her stroking fingers. Kanoe's eyes flutter slightly as she continues to gaze at the stone object, doing her best to remain focused on the ritual at hand.

Spectre was pleased. Kanoe’s distaste was evident, yet she began to perform the ludicrous ‘ritual.’ It enjoyed watching her struggle to remain focused while she played with herself, but that should change soon.

The chant was designed around a particular cadence. Human nature dictated that her fingers would soon begin to move with the rhythm of her speech. That coupled with the concentration required to remain focused on the object should produce a sort of self-hypnosis. The speaking of the words and the actions of her fingers should work in concert to actually aid her concentration. In fact, she should soon find it very difficult to stop (were she so inclined) before completing the ritual.

In addition, the chant contained a very corrupt version of the Word - that divine sound that banished the darkness at the beginning of time. Of course, no mortal (nor even the eternal Spectre itself) could pronounce the Word properly, but the small fragment in the chant was no more difficult than any other word Kanoe had learned in the pursuit of her craft. Obviously, merely uttering a sound couldn’t do anything. The Word, and any fragment thereof was divine by nature, so for it to work, the speaker must be as close to the divine condition as possible.

What most religions throughout space and time fail to recognize is that there is no state closer to this unattainable goal than ecstacy. Thus, as Kanoe’s body began to respond to her inexpert self-stimulation, each speaking of the fragment became more potent.

Since the beautiful young witch didn’t know she was saying it, the Word’s fragment would normally still have little effect, except to reinforce her own pleasure. But, because the directions of the ‘ritual’ specified that she focus her pleasure on an object . . .

As Kanoe spoke the Word fragment over and over while pleasuring herself, the object of her concentration reacted to the divine power she was unknowingly using. The blood made fresh by the alchemical reagent grew more and more luminous, slowly extending a globe of scarlet light. Then the liquid itself began to spread, oozing into a puddle around the stone phallus. Of course the island’s dampening field prevented anything more extravagant from happening.

Spectre delighted in the irony that it had given Kanoe precisely what she sought in a way that would work exactly as it had stated all as a proof of a ritual that was entirely false. It had handed the keys to creation to a mere mortal, and she would never know it. She would perhaps even spurn them for the sensual component necessary in their use. Perhaps someday in the far future, after she had graduated, been sold and properly trained, it would tell her of this, just to further her anguish.

The effect was gradual and was taking Kanoe completely unaware. Her hips began to rock gently into her stroking fingers. The young woman's body gently sways in tempo with her chanting. Her blushing cheeks were no longer red with embrassment but a soft pink of self arousal. Little did she know that she made herself fall into a trancelike state. Once timid fingers were now delving further into her warm sex as she unconciously finds a much more tender place to stroke. The witch's eyes continue to gaze at the stone phallus, glazed over as if under a spell.

The words she chanted left her lips in short pants of pleasure. Her pale skin glows gently with a light sweat as the candle continues to provide illumination to the cavern. Kanoe could feel her heart beating faster every time she finished chanting and started anew. The thought of whether this strange ritual would work or not was no longer filtering through her mind. Only the words she chanted flowed through her mind over and over again. She did not realize she stopped thinking of anything else. A soft groan leaves her as she felt warm nectar run over her hand. Her hips began rocking harder, her fingers pumping at a slightly faster pace now. One shoulder of her black robes slides down her arm, revealing some of her pale chest and her black bra. The woman was completely unaware of what was happening around her, there was only one thing now and that was the word.

She barely notices the glowing blood as she continues masturbating. Her words became more breathless as she tries not to interrupt it with her moans of pleasure. Soon, the goal was met. Her quivering insides clench around her pumping fingers as she suddenly cries out. Kanoe shudders in bliss as she cums messily over her hand and down her thighs, dripping onto the ground beneath her.

A brilliant flash accompanied the young witch’s climax as the power of the Word flared against the island’s dampening field. At that instant, Spectre opened a portal; it used the power of its alien will to rip through the seams of reality, creating a gateway between Kanoe’s reality and elsewhere . . .

Deimos strode through the vale of ashes. Small plumes rose up around his great cloven hooves where they sunk into the dusty soot. A smattering of the fine particles clung like grey frost to the red-brown wool covering his legs.

He stopped and swung his massive ram-horned head about, taking in the desolate scene. The dull red glow of distant lava flows revealed nothing but ash as far as he could see. Suddenly, the air shivered as reality cracked open.

Deimos grinned. The strange cloaked entity had told him a portal would open at this time and place. If it spoke true, there would be a luscious tidbit on the other side - a naive young woman who fancied herself a witch. He had merely to step through and take her. For his part of the bargain, he need only play out a simple charade. The demon’s grin widened. Perhaps this was some sort of elaborate trap, but the possibility of being able to defile an innocent young woman was too good to pass up.

The tentacles lining his spine writhed in the air behind him as he stepped up to the fully formed gateway. Though the aperture was large, he still had to stoop a bit to squeeze his nearly ten foot frame through. His leading hoof came down on something hard on the far side: a hollow stone object that promptly shattered under his weight. The shards were ground into the bloody scrap of cloth surrounding the stone, slicing it to ribbons as Deimos completed the passage through the hole in reality.

The demon paid no attention to the sticky mess under one of his hooves as the portal snapped closed behind him. Indeed, his attention was focused on the sweet young thing before him. This raven haired beauty whose pale skin gleamed in the flickering light of a candle was all that he could have hoped for. His tentacles fanned out to frame his great red-gold bulk as he loomed over her. He played his glowing green eyes over her, taking in what he could see of her luscious form.

“Well, well, what have we here?” Deimos said, his voice like the sound of boulders grinding together.

Kanoe was panting softly from exertion. Her glazed eyes blink as she finally pulls her fingers from her warm dripping sex. It took a few moments for her to register what was happening as the strange trance that came over her faded away. Lights flared across her vision making her avert her eyes briefly before she could see what the spell did. What the spell did? Only then did it sound rather foolish to cast a completely unknown spell, not that she has much of a choice or so she thought.

The smell of ash reaches her as she gazes at the portal that tore open before the stone focus. She could only guess the portal led to hell or a plane similar to that. If the endless field of ash did not make it hell, the demon approaching her did. The beast looked like a traditional devil almost. Horns, cloven feet, burning red skin and glowing eyes; seems like the devil to her. Kanoe rises to her feet on shaking legs, letting her robes fall back down and hide her sex. The closing of the portal behind meant this demon was here to stay but that was not the worst of it. The strange item she used was crushed under one of the beast's hooves. Her hands clench as they remain at her sides. She looks up at the demon, trying to fight the terror that was gnawing away at her mind.

What now? The woman who wrote the letter never got this far apparently as she had no virgin blood. Now she had a ten foot demon that was now devouring her with his eyes. The letter had no information on this demon nor anyway to control him. Kanoe was completely in the dark. She wanted to run but she knew the moment she tries, the demon will take advantage of her apparent weakness. The demon's voice dispelled any thoughts of fleeing as the sound seemed to rumble through her, making her body feel like jelly. She pants short gasping breaths before finally managing to speak.

"K-Kanoe," She says softly.

Deimos smiled broadly. He could smell her fear - even over the musk of her recent climaxes. Of course, the large number of sharp, pointed teeth his grin revealed would likely only compound that fear. . . Which was exactly why he did it.

“Greetings Kanoe,” the demon rumbled with a slight tilt of his massive head. “I am Deimos. Lord of the Ash Fields and Prince of the Seventh Circle.” A complete lie, that; but he couldn’t resist adding a little pomp.

“So, you wish to learn the secrets of pleasure.” It wasn’t a question, but he paused anyway, continue to eye Kanoe’s robed form with open anticipation.