Yaldabaoth's first kiss tasted like blood. It stung his tongue, but it made him keep wanting more.
Now, as Baphomet was receiving a kiss instead…..
It tasted like his own blood mixed with wine.
Gautama bit hard on his lower lip, and it hurt. But he can't move. He remained stuck in place, merely receiving his advances.
"Why are you so still?" He asked. "Could it be that you're still afraid of me? Of my rejection? I'm surrendering to you tonight, you can take me however you want. Just for this one night."
"It's....." Baphomet couldn't finish his sentence.
Gautama smiled. "You want to say 'It's not you that I want', right? You want to say that you want my poor, naive son that you've corrupted, right? But we both know that's not true. That's why you can't say it."
The Demiurge's tongue felt like a rock inside his mouth, unable to even confirm or deny anything.
