Working with Azazel for the first time

Today I worked with Azazel for the first time. I meant to work with him last night, but I had a very intense session (and sex, you think I’m kidding) with Set, and decided to wait until tonight.

I carved Azazel’s name in the red and black candles I then lit for him. I put drops and smears of blood on his sigil, sacrificing some of my life essence.

He was there right away, even as I repeated his enn a few times, possessing me, my body surging with the bliss of possession. I noticed a flicker of subtle fire in my sex.

Already? We just met. Apparently my reputation preceeds me (they all talk to each other, you know). These things mean something different with entities. It is a sacred, transformative energy.

(Note when reading this some months later, it is also the moments of unfettered lasciviousness, of transgressing against social and mind control).

I welcomed him, and thanked him for coming to my temple. No, he wanted me not to talk.

Then I felt his hands on my breasts. His whole hands, and they were of fire. I have felt the hands of other entities there, but never like this. I whispered to him, “…your touch is fire.” Then I felt him there, and took him in. Tiny motions at first. Eventually wild and noisy, crazy sounds and motions. Then a loud and long release.

I did not see or hear him. I loved his energetic touch, his subtle body’s internal presence and external embrace.

Again. Fiery hands. “I want to give you pleasure,” I whispered. Moments of abandon, movement and sound. Loud release.

He embraced me, held me close, touching me tenderly. I was moved, and felt some tears.

“You caressed me,” I whispered.

Again. Tiny tiny movements. At some point, something about it was funny, and I giggled. I knew we were both laughing as we continued our motions and laughter.

As we were moving together, the last of my tears fell down my cheek onto my breast.

I thought of how yesterday, when I was putting some drops of blood on Azazel’s sigil—I was whipping my hand downward a little so the drops would land on the paper—one of my rings flew clean off my finger and landed nice as could be on the music stand right next to me where I keep my books of rituals, where sat the ritual I had printed for connecting with Azazel.

How? My hand was fully pointed away from the music stand, and the only way the ring could get there was to go straight up, then straight down onto the lip of the stand without bouncing, which it did not. It was my favorite ring, a mood ring with a golden serpent head. (Yes, I am moody… Thanks for pointing that out). I laughed. Azazel has a sense of humor! It set me at ease for meeting him.

At one point I could almost catch his scent. “I can almost smell you,” I said, trying hard to catch his scent. It became stronger. It was a masculine, musky smell, very pleasing. “You smell nice.”

In a unique moment of inspiration I tried turning around, leaning on the bed, with good results.

When I sat down again, (I sit on the edge of my bed when working at my altar), I felt all wobbly and mushy, then I slipped into a deep meditation, sinking into inner stillness. I felt his fire all over me then, outside and inside, long long moments of delicious possession. I have never felt a touch of fire like the touch of Azazel.

The fire stopped and I wondered if I could get it back, or what was next. Then I realized the possession of fire was his farewell. Until next time.

I have formed a relationship with a new entity, the demon Azazel.