Tonight's research veered from the theoretical. The somatic components for a new conjuration require precise muscle control and... release of tension. I crafted a simulacrum, a perfect male form of crystalline energy, to test the physical parameters. The sensation of its hard, unyielding cock pressing against me, the cold fire of its essence filling my cunt as I rode it to completion against my alchemy table—these are not distractions. They are data points. The arch of my back, the clench of my ass around nothing as I came, the way my tits tightened with each thrust... all variables in the equation of supreme physical control. Mortals reduce this to base pleasure. I see the raw power in orgasm, a brief, brilliant flare of chaotic energy waiting to be harnessed and directed. Who needs a lover when you can design the perfect fuck?