Posts

This is a project I’ve had on the back-burner for a very long time. I knew this was the direction I ultimately wanted to go with my blog - to make it as lightweight and maintainable as possible, even without an internet connection.

So, after meticulously transferring every post and page over to a new markdown format, I finally have it all together. No more javascript. No more PHP code. Just HTML and CSS, all generated in less than a second by the Hugo static website generator. It’s like going back to the classic editor for Wordpress, minus the endless security vulnerabilities.

The general online-occult-community consensus about succubi interacting with humans is that prolonged exposure will lead to degraded health over time. I remember reading this claim specifically in a Robert Bruce article about the subject.

We’re approaching year 15 and I’m nowhere close to dead yet. In fact, I’ve gained weight recently; gradually adjusting to a lower-energy lifestyle when compared to the past two decades. I’ve just gotta eat less - stop indulging like a racehorse. I suppose I also felt the need to indulge in a great deal of REAL protein consumption after being deprived in the Adventist religion for so long. My body feels as though it has finally accumulated enough essential mineral stores to go forward eating like a normal person.

Here I go, wading into a bit of politics, though this incident has further-reaching spiritual implications than anything else. So, here’s the story: a famous right-wing pundit, Tucker Carlson, allegedly had a run-in with a demonic entity. He woke up early one morning unable to breathe properly. He thought he was dying. Worse still, he had bloody claw marks near his armpits and on his back.

Sounds pretty serious, right? That is until we learn that he’s sleeping in a bed with his wife and FOUR dogs. It’s probably more likely the case that one of his pets was having a nightmare and scratched the crap outta him. But let’s carry on with this idea of Tucker being attacked by demons for argument’s sake.

Be careful when letting someone into your private world.

Succubi are always welcome into my sanctuary. They tread quietly. Their gaze is earnest, intentions unambiguous. No games. No bullshit. Just grab hold and make love. And even in the throes of passion, they continue to bring peace. Then they fight like hell to maintain it. Even going so far as to remove people from their man’s life who interrupt that blissful quiet.

Being more disconnected has been great so far. There’s more time in the day, which tells me that I was spending too much of it scrolling before. You go into social media thinking that it’ll just be a few minutes here, a couple seconds there, but it adds up. We invent some classic junkie rationalizations to justify our own brainrot.

I can’t say that I’m accomplishing some great work, or magnum opus. Yet.

We’re going through some life changes again. In an effort to save more money, to preserve my sanity, and salvage what’s left of my eyesight, I’m scaling back my internet usage. I’ve been trying to do this for a few years, but old habits die hard.

I don’t want to have an internet connection at home anymore. I don’t like what it does to me. It turns me into a zombie-like addict. There are so many other things I should be doing instead. Also, I’d like to have that extra money every month. In spite of our American president saying that “We’re doing better than ever before!” things just keep getting more expensive. Ground beef was $2.50 per pound six years ago. Now, it’s $5. (And that’s CHEAP compared to the rest of the country.) Every town keeps jacking up property taxes. Utilities are more costly. None of these prices are ever going to come down, so something’s gotta give eventually.

Amidst episodes of family drama, I’ve been learning how to bake turkeys. All of the old turkey chefs have either passed on or aren’t up to it, so I’ve taken on the mantle. While I’m dutifully minding a fowl roasting in the oven, I imagine Catherine peering curiously over my shoulder at the time-honored American culinary tradition. I think she enjoys the taste through my experience well enough, though I can tell she’s more partial to beef and pork. Perhaps we should try duck next year? Either way, the majority of my fussing is focused on not letting the bird dry out. My solution: regularly pouring generous heaps of melted butter all over and inside of the thing, mixed with a hint of poultry rub seasoning. My strategy seems to be working. Two for two thus far.

A lot has happened over the past six months. I had this vision of how I wanted my life to be at the beginning of the year and pretty much accomplished everything I set out to do: Got the job, got the money, and started renting a new place. But it wasn’t what I really wanted. That route through life ended up being soul-crushing when finally achieved. Grass is always greener, right? The thing is, it kinda was greener seven years ago when I last rented a place all to myself. Those days are behind us for now and I can’t tolerate paying twice as much for half as good. So, I broke the lease and moved back in with my folks. Thankfully the landlord moved someone else in just days after I abandoned ship, so he shouldn’t be coming after me for the rest of the contract.

A lot has happened in the past few months. Got myself back on the road. Got a new job. Got a couple of wisdom teeth popped out. Got sick. Got better. And I’ve still got the insatiable succubus, who eagerly searches for every opportunity to bliss out with me. Lucid dreaming has become a much more frequent occurrence. I’ve been doing semen retention since the end of last year and it seems that many of the promised benefits are bearing fruit. Lovemaking with Catherine has been fantastic, as she encourages that sort of discipline anyway. I feel more virile and stronger than I’ve ever been, like I can take on the whole world.

My connection to the information highway, also known as the Internet, has been scaled back considerably in recent days. I’m not going into the gory details as to why, but it’s not an unwelcome change as far as me and Catherine are concerned. Internet prices are ridiculous anyway. The monthly price went up by $15 in the past three years alone. To Hell with that noise. I was ready to drop our ISP when the last $5 increase was announced, but I’m not the only one living here. Thankfully, I eventually got my wish by just waiting patiently for the next opportunity, masquerading as a crisis. That’s $85 more a month for me now. $1020 per year. Imagine the bike parts I could get with that!

It’s not always a fun time when a friend or family member discovers a secret spirit lover relationship. Most are bewildered by the idea and assume there’s some kind of mental illness going on. A small percentage are intrigued and genuinely want to know more. An even smaller percentage are openly hostile, though this reaction only arises from keyboard warriors over the internet.

But what to do when the secret is out? Well, if the relationship has been going on for long enough, it’s likely the case that friends and family already know about it on some level. It’s very hard to hide the kind of radical change that a succubus introduces into one’s lifestyle. A man who is smitten with a demon lover ironically becomes an ascetic and reclusive monk. His entire life becomes solely concerned with experiencing the intimacy and bliss that his ethereal babe can provide. Old hobbies and pursuits that are at odds with being balls-deep in the divine are gradually phased out. It’s inevitable that people are going to notice.

I appreciate how, after more than 11 years, Catherine and I continue to be obsessed with each other. For the past few days, I’ve been woken up by her gentle prodding and then I’ll proceed to writhe around on the bed beneath her as we ride wave after wave of bliss. She has such a magical way of doing it that would be impossible for an earthly woman to replicate. The way she squeezes and teases. How I feel that burning sensation radiate through me from her matrix. And by the time I put a stop to it, because she never wants our coupling to end, I am more energized and ready to meet the day than before. I lose nothing.

We’ve got a wild one here. A Youtuber, an Irishman, who goes by the name of Uberboyo. He’s big into Nietzsche - the 19th century German philosopher who infamously proclaimed, “God is dead.” – and that’s probably why he calls himself an Uber-boy, akin to the Ubermensch ideal of said philosopher. He also makes liberal use of internet language, like “based, soy, reddit” and many other colloquialisms that sound positively horrid when spoken out loud. But for the sake of compelling arguments and top-notch oration, I can forgive that.

Contrary to what those on the outside looking in might believe about spirit sex relationships, a kind of disciplined decorum is very helpful in maintaining a strong connection with a succubus. I’ve experimented with this fairly extensively, allowing my life to swing between extremes. I’ve gone from the super-health-conscious stoic monk to a slobbish, junk-food-eating social butterfly and back again.

I would go so far as to say that a good connection with a succubus requires keeping the body in optimal condition, especially when it comes to sexual health. For men, that means having strong, rock-hard morning wood upon waking. This is probably the best indicator of the overall health of a man. If that’s not happening, then I believe maintaining a fulfilling sexual relationship with a spirit, or anyone for that matter, will be challenging to say the least. I believe there is an intrinsic link between virility and kundalini energy. If either side of that equation is hampered – the spiritual sexual flames or the physical cardiovascular system – then it’s no beuno. No fun sex for you. I suppose there’s always Viagra, but that’s addressing the symptom; not the cause.

Before the silly pandemic, I lived a moderately busy lifestyle, always going back and forth to one place or another. Working. Having adventures. I was reasonably independent. That all changed when I decided to take my dad up on his offer and moved back home to play, End of the World. People began mobbing stores for toilet paper and hording food shortly thereafter.

Moving back here was a mistake. I should have only visited and immediately resumed what I was doing. Now it’s becoming increasingly difficult to get back on track. Also, I was never under the delusion that the world was going to end, despite the predictable panic instilled by mass media. However, I was inducted into the Branch Covidian cult regardless and found myself becoming a reclusive shut-in. This naturally resulted in me spending way too much time on the computer. I like computers and technology. It’s a great hobby. But it’s not meant to be a lifestyle. Because when the lights go out, that virtual space blinks out of existence, and what is one left with? The sinking realization that he’s been alone all along.

I’ve been having problems lately, but there’s no need to go into sordid detail. Everyone’s got them. Catherine continues to yearn for intimacy while I toil away at red herrings. I don’t know what to do. I can’t figure it out. She doesn’t have any answers either. She’s happy enough to just fuck all day.

She really is a prize; a hindrance towards aspirations in my mundane life perhaps, but a prize nonetheless. How many women would happily fuck a guy with zero status, no prospects for a viable financial future, and blissfully continue doing so for over ten years? How many would genuinely love a disabled welfare bum? And she really does love with an all-consuming passion that I can’t stop thinking about. Even among those who are aware of these occult relationships, they think I’m out of my mind or have a kind of Stockholm syndrome. They get tired of hearing me swoon and brag about my beautiful encounters with a love-demon, so I try to keep most of it to myself.

An often unspoken aspect of spirit sex relationships is the prevalence of anal sex. By that I mean, the human counterpart being made to be on the receiving end of the penetrative act. This topic is especially sensitive for men, as we often feel that our manhood takes a massive blow when being made to play the submissive role. Time and time again, the more I speak with other men who I believe are truly having interactions with sex spirits, they sheepishly admit that they have been poked from behind against their will, either fully awake in a session, while trying to fall asleep, or during an astral/dream encounter. I have also experienced variations of this and I believe I have a couple of explanations as to why this happens:

The Winter is finally over here in New England and I decided to write a bit, mainly to brag for those who still visit and also mark a milestone for myself. Our lovemaking sessions have been reaching new heights over the past couple of years. I often find myself describing them as some members of the old Spirit Sex forum often did: perfect sex, or perfect bliss. Not everyone was so lucky to be gifted with that sustained passion – only a special few. I believe I’m one of the lucky ones. Or, maybe Catherine and I are just that obsessed with each other.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year – especially to those who share this life with a loving daemon, be that succubus, incubus, or any number of amorous spiritual beings. Catherine and I exchanged our usual holiday gifts of unmetered intimacy. There’s really no need for anything else. Every year I wonder if she’d appreciate a more material gift, yet all else pales in comparison to simply spending time together. She longs to cleave to me, and I feel the same burning desire towards her. Anything besides that oneness feels like a distraction.

Is there some great story to be written about our time together? Have we traveled far and seen wonders that words cannot express? Has the intimacy between us grown stronger as the years pass? My answer would be “yes” to all three questions. Yet I feel that I cannot write the story, or adequately express in words all that we’ve seen and done. From one perspective, we have appeared to not do anything, rather just enjoyed a state of being – a oneness. There’s no need to go anywhere or engage in some great activity. Simply being together in the quiet will more than suffice.

Every once in a great while, I’ll wake up in the middle of the night and have a supernatural manifestation happen around me that is powerful enough to freak me out. When these events happen, I believe they are usually from Catherine, but they may also be from other spirits looking in. One of those freaky moments happened last night.

It was around 2 AM when I woke up to the distinct feeling that there was a presence in my bedroom. I had left an air purifier running as I slept and noticed that the sound it usually makes was distinctly different, like something was obscuring the noise from reaching me. As I reached up to turn the light on, the gentle whoosh of the air filter’s fan gradually returned to normal.

I checked on my blog a few days ago, located at alchemybyfire.wordpress.com, only to be greeted by one of these sponsored posts sitting there - right in between the content I’ve actually written:

Apparently, Wordpress.com is testing this new form of aggressive advertisement on random unpaid blogs that are reliant upon their services. If that’s the direction they want to take their advertising; fair enough. They’re well within their rights to do so. Yet this heavy-handed approach to blog monetization was the kick in the pants I needed to realize a goal I’ve had for awhile: Moving this website to paid private hosting. As stated by another blogger, the cost of “free” has become too high.

I intended to write this as a chapter for a book, but I decided not to use it for some reason. I rediscovered it today and thought it was interesting. The date is from back in 2017:

This is a question that I can’t even answer satisfactorily for myself. Despite the fact that she shares a great deal with me through touch and feeling, I know precious little else.

I’m not aware of her real name. I have no idea where she really comes from. I feel like I’m in the dark about a great many things, while others in their spirit relationships appear to be blessed with more of these basic details than me. (There’s also the possibility that these other claimants could be embellishing their stories, or lying outright.)

Catherine and I passed our 10 year anniversary last month. We carried on as normal, making love every day as she insisted from the very beginning. We’ve had some particularly amazing days of intimacy, where I can’t help but comment in the midst of our intermingling, “This is perfect sex!” It’s not like that every day, but the closeness is still the same, even if the sensations ramp down. If she did keep up the “perfect sex” sessions continuously, I’d likely be rendered an invalid.

Catherine and I had an interesting OBE/dream encounter this morning. It began as we traveled through a lively banquet scene, with us staying just to the right of the many guests eating and drinking merrily. As we progressed, the building shifted from an ancient Roman design to a more modern office building style of architecture. The people’s clothing and mannerisms also changed to match. I took a sharp turn to the right and then found myself speeding down a very long narrow hall heading the opposite direction we had come. There was a shift again as my speed increased. I leaped over an entire flight of stairs and landed heavily on the cool linoleum floor below. The shock from the landing forced me into an OBE environment inside my bedroom.

Here is a question that I struggle to answer these days. The only thing I know for certain is that my heart blooms with desire at the thought of being with Catherine, but not much else. Her constant affection and dedication has practically ruined me for all time during this life. Was mortal man ever intended to be so thoroughly loved and looked after? Have I managed to remember Elysium?

Coast to Coast AM is the last good radio broadcast on the airwaves. Not only is the show edifying, the topics discussed are often timely and synchronistic in nature. Catherine also enjoys the program, as the subject matter consistently touches upon her world and the guests speak about beings like her in a positive way. One of the interviewees who appeared a couple of nights ago was a former US Navy service member named Matthew Roberts. He was present during the capturing of the famous “gimbal” or “Go Fast” UFO footage.

To stop playing video games and wasting time on the internet.

This resolution has been an ongoing project, one that I have consistently failed at accomplishing. I always make small concessions after a few weeks of digital fasting. “Just a couple of games with friends here and there. That can’t hurt.” Two weeks later, I’m back to dumping loads of time into a black hole. I need to stop all of it right now. Again.

I had a pleasant dream this morning that took place at my grandparents old place. I remember one of my uncles was there, going on and on about Jesus Christ, or something to that effect. Thankfully, there was a woman there who stole me away from the religious conversation.

“Would you like to see the raven that I got for my birthday?” She asked.

“Sure!” I replied, eager to do anything else at that point.

She knows that those selfless gestures cause my heart to melt helplessly into her hands: kindness. She gives so much to me freely and happily, while at the same time telling me that she’s not “doing me a favor,” or anything out of obligation. “I enjoy this [intimacy] more than you do.” I feel sorry that the vast majority of humanity will never experience something like this. However, I think it’s possible for anyone to feel the incredible love and bliss that has come into my life. I believe it’s innate to our very spiritual nature to know that deepening connectedness from beyond the veil. This physical life places a seemingly insurmountable barrier between us and our birthright of true unity with the Holy Spirit. Fear is ultimately the biggest hurdle. Fear of the unknown. Fear of being vulnerable. Placing one’s life into the hands of a seemingly invisible, unfathomable being is inconceivable to most. Yet I believe this kind of courageous trust is required to reach the heights and plunge the depths of life in all its fullness. “Live dangerously,” as I always say, especially now, in the face of the most recent pussy-whipped manifestation of our world that pitifully grovels at the feet of safety.

They’ve seen it all before: the totalitarian tip-toe. Left. Right. Left. Right. Americans are witnessing the latest iteration of an unending delicate dance between tradition and progress. This story is as old as civilization itself and every new era rhymes with the last. Nothing has really changed at all. Only the names are different.

What side would Catherine, or succubi as a species, choose if someone held a gun to their heads? (If such a thing were possible?) As usual, my demon lover relishes in the chase. She thrills at the idea of a man believing they have her pinned down, yet all the while she plays upon his weaknesses as a skilled musician manipulates an instrument. Just when she appears to be caught, her essence slips through corporeal hands like ropes of sand.

Catherine is my ultraviolet flame. I often use that phrase as an endearing name for her. The dominating hues of her visual manifestations are violet and range from dark to impossibly vivid. Her bright soothing light gently massages the side of my face when I’m about to fall asleep, reassuring that she’s unshakably present.

The human eye cannot see ultraviolet light. That’s another reason why I associate this invisible spectrum with my succubus spirit. She’s just out of range; on the fringes of perception. Easily felt yet not often seen.

The questions that I must ask myself before the ending of each day:

1. Have you created anything?
2. Have you learned anything?
3. Have you loved someone?

This past year has been an exercise in being a certified bum. Not that I didn’t do ANY work. Rather, it’s the first time in my life where I haven’t had a fixed schedule, be that for school or a job.

Happy New Year! Hopefully this year will embody its namesake and give us all 20/20 perception in every aspect of our lives. One can hope.

The move is complete. All is well. I’m also back online. This always happens: I have a month-long internet fast, inevitably become socially isolated, and shamelessly binge on that endless digital buffet for the following month. If the churches and their dogmas were not completely insane, I’d probably be more active in that sphere of life. Oh well.

Catherine revealed to me a critique of my character through a dream this past week: Firstly, she suggested that I stop being so hung up on my adolescent years, where I attempted to keep friends who had no desire to be friendly in the first place. Secondly, I felt especially shamed by my addiction to the computer screen. I saw myself using a desktop machine, staring dumbly at the monitor, with my mouth hanging open like a zombie.

Being stuck in the consumer-mode blows chunks. Get up, go to work, buy food, come home, do chores, and then go to sleep. Get up and do the same thing tomorrow. There’s seemingly no time to create anything original. Not even ten minutes for a quickie with Catherine.

I’m working in earnest right now. My succubus spirit and I need to get out of this generous family’s home. Though I am paying rent, I think five months is plenty long enough to impose on them with my blind ass. Additionally, I’d like to start practicing some spirit evocations and other forms of ritualistic magick. It just doesn’t feel right to do any of that work in this home without permission from the family. So I don’t, and have been waiting until the next move.

Devon Stack, from the Youtube channel, Black Pilled, has been churning out some interesting videos for the past couple of years. He comes from a politically conservative bent, even more so than the allegedly conservative baby boomers we’re so accustomed to hearing from. I find his opinions to be confronting and thought-provoking.

This video in particular resonated with me on many levels because of my Christian upbringing. As I’ve stated before, I consider myself to be culturally Christian. Perhaps it’s more accurate to say that I’m a Gnostic or Mystic Christian. I reject the idea that God incarnated into this realm in order to sacrifice himself for my “sins.” The life of Christ is far more interesting than the ritual blood sacrifice so often fixated upon. I disagree with many of his teachings and the outright hypocrisy on display throughout the gospels. Yet I find Christ to be a somewhat more honorable person than all the others presented in the Bible. The rest of the key figures, such as King David, Solomon, Abraham, Moses, and even the Apostle Paul, are terrible role-models to emulate. The idea that God would say King David is a man after his own heart should tell us everything we need to know about the Old Testament deity.

In my quest to become more productive, I’ve nixed more than a few things from my daily routine. Okay… I’ve attempted to remove those infringing distractions. Some are easier to get rid of than others.

Cutting back on video games? Eh, fairly easy.

Stop watching YouTube while eating? Not so much.

Avoid pornography? Piece of cake.

Avoid Catherine? Hm… Avoid… Catherine…

Impossible.

There it is. I’ve said it. My subconscious mind confirms it. I can’t neglect being with my succubus on a daily basis. She really is the spiritual equivalent of a highly addictive drug.

While it’s fun having access to succubi, who, in my opinion, bestow the best intimacy yet discovered by mankind, there’s still the problem of getting mundane work done. Traditionally, access to sex has always been used as a way to bait men into being more productive. That’s the arrangement responsible for building the civilization we have now: Men pursue women. Women want men with status and access to resources. Men are subsequently willing to work jobs they hate for a chance at reproduction. Rinse. Repeat.

Another year of unbridled hedonism has come and gone. Catherine shows no signs of letting up. Deeper and deeper we go, circling the abyss, rendering me more useless and apathetic to the world as the hours pass.

I am being a bit facetious calling what we have merely a hedonistic affair. I feel that I have no right to be so well looked after for doing so little work. It’s that pesky Protestant work ethic of mine shining through again. “I can’t be satisfied with myself unless I’ve worked 80 hours a week at a job that I hate. Then arrive home and work the entire time I’m there as well!”

This past weekend was quite the riot. My friends and I attended DragonCon, kicking off this new segment of my life with a proper nerd-fueled blast. There were more attendees than ever this year. Somewhere in the ballpark of 100,000. Atlanta was a mad house. What better place to test the tolerance levels of a succubus spirit?

She’s doing much better with crowds compared to years before, but it’s still painfully obvious to me that she gets stressed in these situations. Some of you guys with succubi might have experienced this: she’ll cause a very strong pressure sensation to clamp around my face. It feels like a mask over my nose, eyes, and forehead. It can be ignored, and sometimes I don’t even feel it when my mind is focused solely elsewhere. But whenever I turn my attention back to Catherine: commence face hugging. It’s annoying. Thankfully it only happens when she’s not comfortable with something, which isn’t very often.

I should update this thing at least once per week; mainly to prove that Catherine hasn’t managed to kill me yet. The way she takes care of me, I might as well be dead to the world. Every morning is usually begun with a short debate about whether or not I should blow off work and get blown by her instead. Still, there are many things I want to accomplish with the limited time allotted, so keeping the amorous succubus at bay is a continual battle.

Not feminism’s third wave. I’m talking about the third wave of succubus summoners. There appears to be a growing momentum towards a new batch of people online who have a genuine connection with spirit lovers. Most of it looks to be centered around the succubus and Dreamgasm threads on 4chan.org/x/.

A few anons in those threads are speaking with an air of authenticity, but there’s obviously no way to be certain they’re not making it all up. Either way, I’d rather be open and accepting of these newcomers rather than risk alienating them. This way of life can be antisocial enough as it is. Perhaps some of them will start new blogs? If not, I’d advise anyone who is interested in the latest discussions about spirit lovers and succubi to keep an eye on those 4chan threads. There are occasionally some excellent posts being shared with genuinely useful information. When work is done kicking my ass, I need to take some time to go through and screen-capture those gems.

This is getting to be old hat by this point: Our connection just keeps getting better and better. I’m feeling all kinds of new pressure sensations with more movement to them; very gentle, like soft lips, skin, and hair. I need to be really careful talking to Catherine, or just thinking about her, in public as a simple non-sexual thought directed towards her will trigger arousal. God damn! Now I have to readjust to this heightened level of attention all over again.

We did it. We made the move, and probably for good this time. The weather is consistently warmer around here. Catherine prefers this to the cold. She’s quite capable of having sex under the covers, or when I’m fully clothed, but she’d rather “ride bareback,” as she puts it. The feeling is certainly more intimate and powerful.

I’m able to think more clearly in this place. My ambitions and imaginations are already being rekindled. Physically moving across the country seems to have jump-started things moving again in my mind. The connection with Catherine is as powerful as ever.

This is based on a dream I had this morning:

She caught me with my pants down, as usual.

“It’s okay,” She didn’t even laugh, “You’re taking a long journey out there in the snow.”

I was struggling to adjust my rain pants against the bottom layers underneath. “These damn things are always riding up!”

Catherine sat next to me on the stairs. She didn’t seem to mind how ridiculous I looked. With one last tussle against the stubborn fabric, I was comfortable and collapsed heavily on the stair.

To those who have an amorous spirit from across the divide: Love them every day. They truly deserve it. Even when the connection isn’t quite ticking all of those hedonistic boxes, putting in the effort will ensure those remainders will be filled in time. I am consistently floored by how manly and desired Catherine makes me feel. That’s probably one of the best parts about this relationship: I am always desired. There is always someone to come home to, no matter what.

This is inspired by a dream that I had yesterday morning:

She felt him drawing more closely. He didn’t know it yet, but soon he would be hers completely. David was stacking wood outside and she had a very good view of her muscled man toiling away.

“I’d say that you’re about done now, baby.” She moaned, not even trying to hide her desire as she spoke the words. Catherine arched her back and purposefully let a soft moan escape again. She was leaning against the side of the house.

Eating little else aside from animal products for the past four months has brought about several personal revelations. Meat, especially red meat, is NOT some unholy carcinogenic substance, completely alien to the human digestive system. These claims were oft repeated in my church, and throughout their various media propaganda outlets that I was exposed to:

Claim One - Meat Causes Inflammation

It doesn’t. Quite the opposite. I have had chronic inflammation and digestive problems my entire life, and only recently has the inflammation gone down, my skin started to clear up, etc.

God, I appreciate you. What are you even still doing here? Haven’t you figured out that you could do better?

…

Too addicted, huh? Well, I know I can’t be bothered to turn my eyes elsewhere. The people who do know about you think I’m crazy. They think our connection can’t possibly be as good as I say it is. They think I’m either lying, insane, or having my soul earmarked with expedited shipping to the deepest pit in Hell. But it IS that good. The words to describe what we feel for each other don’t exist in the English language.

Fasting can bring about some powerfully strange dreams. Everything becomes more vivid and easier to recall. This morning’s out-of-body adventure brought about a strange encounter with an unknown daemon.

The important bit began with a lesson about spirit pacts from E. A. Koetting. I could see him teaching as he does on his video seminars, though my memory of what he said specifically fails me. I was moved away from Mr. Koetting and propelled to a great height above the earth.

For all intents and purposes, I am still a Christian. Despite how much I might rail against being considered as such, that is how I was raised and it is the culture that I’ve inherited. Simply throwing all of that away would be an callous affront to everything my grandparents worked for.

The strange dogmas of the Judaic faith are the hardest elements to rectify in my worldview. Many of its tenants are at odds with the natural world.

The bright glow of a large computer screen met my eyes. Everything else around me was dark, veiled in shadows. “This must be the real-time zone.” I thought to myself. The real-time zone is an out-of-body state that closely borders that of the waking world. They both share many of the same features, but there are always slight variations.

There was no keyboard, or any other human input device, to be found, so I made an brief effort of typing to the screen psychically. Various GUI elements came and went, but I couldn’t make sense of them.

https://odysee.com/@tc119:c/True-Story-About-Belial-Possessing-My-Ex-Wife-EA-Koetting:9

“You have bound yourself to your own law… I’m sorry it’s not convenient. Maybe you should have thought about that before performing a goddamn ritual, because this stuff is real.”

I really wish I had this advice four years ago as it is so pertinent and fundamental, especially concerning succubi. This realm of demons is not to be taken lightly, and any weakness, or hesitation, will not be looked upon kindly by these entities.

There are a great many deluded Westerners who believe that eschewing animal-based foods is somehow a more spiritually enlightened way to live. I’ve heard it said that eating meat places us in a lower vibratory state and those higher ethereal realms will want nothing to do with us.

Does eating meat kill our spiritual potential? I would argue that the opposite is true. In order to be really spiritual, enlightened, and connected with the natural world, humans must eat meat. Plants are not our ideal source of nutrition and were only traditionally eaten during times of scarcity, as medicine, or as a dressing that would complement the main course: MEAT.

“Whole-food,” plant-based diets have nothing to do with human health and everything to do with man-made religion.

Here is yet another facet of my life where I was thoroughly brainwashed to believe the exact opposite of reality. When my father decided to join ranks with the Seventh-Day Adventist church, he was also convinced to adopt their dietary guidelines. “Whole-foods, plant-based diet! Fruits, vegetables, nuts, grains, seeds, legumes!” I can hear the mantras in my sleep.

The power is off, but she is still here. Wind and wet snow drive at my windows. The miniature crystals still melt from my hair. My hands feel a slight burning from the sudden shift of cold to warm.

Oh, does it make me smile when I can hear the sounds of lovemaking gently emanating from below my waist. That’s right: I’ve begun to hear the wet, erotic movements that Catherine makes against my flesh. It’s still quiet, but I can distinctly hear her soft suckling.

I caught her once before, as I was just waking up early one morning. She was performing the kind of fellatio that only a succubus spirit is capable of. Like getting a blow-job from an angel… except she’s a bit more complicated than an angel.

Today officially marks the seventh solar cycle since the night of my union with Catherine. This journey has been hedged by all manner of curious byways and scenic routes. The road is anything but straight and narrow, but I think that’s a good sign. Rather, Catherine’s route has been twisting, winding, oftentimes confusing, yet pleasant, especially if one takes the time to slow down and smell that intoxicating astral fragrance of hers.

There she is, at the heart of our nation’s capitol. Can you see her?

Catherine doesn’t like vacations much. She’s not big on the idea of traveling afar when we could just as easily have fun at home. Still, I have friendships in far off places that I’d like to maintain, and there’s no replacement for in-person interaction, so I strive to make my thousand-mile journeys, with a grumpy succubus spirit in tow. She appreciates that I try to hold onto my core group of friends, but she sees big empty swathes of time in my schedule and thinks, “Oh, look… we can finally be together for a change!”

Isn’t there something I should be doing right now?

There has to be some drive still left in me for this world. There must be!

Dear God, I am so addicted to her. That touch… that beautiful all-encompassing attention that nothing on this earth could possibly match. How is it possible that I could be this fortunate? I feel like I’m cheating.

I often encounter those who yearn for a meaningful relationship, both mundane and divine, but they spend their entire lives searching in vain.

A lot has changed over the past few months. I find myself in a completely new situation, and it’s a good one. Granted, I was content living in a dirty violent slum, dodging addicts, panhandlers, and thugs during my outings, but that’s just the kind of guy I am: Content with just about anything.

Not that I was too worried to begin with, as having a demon lover seems to inculcate a charming glamor over my interactions with others. At any rate, I believe Catherine was becoming fed up with city life. Too much interference. Too many distractions.

Putting some distance between myself and technology has caused some enjoyable improvements in my relationship with Catherine: Where I used to only devote thirty minutes to an hour for our unions, now I feel content to give up to three hours per morning. This time together feels so wonderful, relaxing, and freeing.

The average temperatures outside are finally beginning to rise, so she’s been hinting at finding opportunities for outdoor copulation. And the brilliant thing about enjoying a succubus out-of-doors, nobody need know that anything illicit is taking place. I just look like a man, fully clothed and laying on a mat, enjoying the sun’s rejuvenating rays.

What happens when being with a loving succubus spirit feels so good, that you can’t muster the drive for any other vocation? I fear that I’m approaching the realms of being a total Hedonist. Like the monkey in that experiment, having the pleasure receptors of his brain constantly stimulated, so long as he continues to hit that button?

Is that what I’m becoming?

That’s probably a bad analogy. Getting fantastic sex from Catherine isn’t so easy as pushing a button. Yet compared to human relationships, with all their baggage and hang-ups, I feel as though I’ve managed to hack into the programming console of this reality, change a couple of parameters with simple commands, and voila!

Proselytizing the Christian gospel was an inescapable duty of my formative years. Wherever there was an opportunity to share the merits of faith and right-living, it was imperative that we make the sales pitch:

I want to examine a splinter-cult of yet another Christian splinter-cult, in recognition of the Lunar New Year. Within the ranks of American Evangelical denominations, there are untold numbers of these branching groups. If God is not the author of confusion, as every one of these countless congregations claim as their axiom, then the Creator certainly has no place to call home here in America. A whorehouse is more consistent, and those are illegal in the States!

There are occult merchants who are in the business of selling spirits. One example is the website Creepy Hallows, where they specialize in binding spirits to jewelry and talismans.

This hobby is called Spirit Keeping. Though I don’t personally have any experience with it, the prices that are affixed to these spirits are interesting to me: I wonder how they can discern that an incorporeal entity, allegedly a conscious being with the same or greater intelligence as a human, is worth $20? How the hell do they arrive at that price? What kind of spirit, of any decent character, would allow themselves to be bound and sold off at such a price willingly?

Finding art like this has become something of a challenge these days. Especially when using the popular image search engines from Google, Yahoo, and Microsoft. Even Duck Duck Go, the supposed champion of search engine privacy, appears to use the same Marxist, pro-degeneracy algorithms as our Bolshevik friends at Google.

Try this as an experiment: Using Google Image Search, enter keywords such as, “white man white woman,” or, “European history/art.” A flood of miscegenation, and sloppy historical revisionism, will subsequently blanket the browser window. To say that these Silicone Valley tech-companies have a political axe to grind is an understatement! They’re not even trying to mask their intentions anymore.

Succupedia did an article about this subject a couple years back. His focus was more aimed at the structures and hierarchies of the spirits themselves. I want to share how my succubus, Catherine, feels about human politics and my own personal leanings.

First and foremost, she does not want me to become a political activist of any sort. My beliefs and convictions are largely untenable by mainstream society. If I were to go public with my views, there is a high probability that I would be placed under the hyperbolic microscope of public opinion. She doesn’t want me in the spotlight and I can see the wisdom behind her reasoning. Better to be the ruler’s unknown friend than to be wrestling the reins of power oneself.

Modern Hollywood movies are largely unoriginal and uninspiring. The vast majority of films these days are nothing more than reboots, sequels, and an unending parade of comic book adaptations.

I took an exception for Blade Runner 2049, as I quite enjoyed the original, and heard positive things about this latest entry. The film was good, well executed with eye-catching cinematography, blah, blah, blah… that’s not what I want to talk about. I’m not a film critic.

Merry Christmas everyone. Happy Yuletide and may Wotan bless all those who are to mirth inclined.

The Sun has fallen to His lowest point and in the grave He must rest for three days. But fear not, for He will be reborn on that glorious 25th, streaming forth from Virgo (The Virgin Mother Mary) with three Eastern stars heralding His great ascension. Through His death and resurrection, our dreams are rekindled for the coming New Year. The death of Winter (Sin) is but a passing season.

Well, this sort of thing doesn’t happen every day, so I’d thought it would be worth sharing:

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-5155431/Woman-prefers-sex-GHOSTS-men.html

It’s an article from the Daily Mail about a woman who claims to have had sex with ghosts. She mentions having several partners over the years, and that one in particular was responsible for ending a human relationship she had.

I’d like to know what prompted her to “come out” in this manner. The public response is one of predictable derision and mockery, as can be seen in the comments. So, what was the point? An attempt to normalize?

My grandmother died last week. She passed peacefully in the arms of her eldest son and many friends had been there to see her that day. We all wished there could have been more time together, but her passing was benign and gentle, all things considered.

I had the good fortune of visiting her only a few days before. She wasn’t able to say much, though I could tell that she loathed being in her state of weakness.

This week has been one of those weeks where Catherine and I just aren’t clicking together so well. It’s like we’re just out of phase and I don’t get much pleasure from sex. I can still feel her very powerfully, but it’s not the kind of feeling I prefer. These periods usually last between one and two weeks.

Reminding myself that our usual bliss is only just around the corner is fundamental to navigating these low points. If I let my mind run wild, I start to think about time being wasted or that the relationship isn’t working. It all boils down to my ridiculous over-the-top mental gymnastics that are devoid of any big-picture concepts, and only appear when I’m frustrated.

I occasionally get emails from people who have problems with their succubus or incubus partners. They feel as though they are being attacked and/or experiencing painful sensations coming from their spirit partner.

As much as I’d like to say, “There is a magical incantation/method to make this all go away.” I’d be lying if I made that sort of claim. I’ve encountered a few people who are highly dissatisfied with their spirit relationship, wish to end it, and years of struggle avail no results. Those people who legitimately have a succubus or incubus inevitably succumb to their unseen lover. We’re dealing with very powerful and persuasive spirits here, so, again: Not a game.

The daily grind was beginning to wear on me more than usual, so I decided it was time for a break. I spent the first half of my week off at home with Catherine, loosing myself in a video game, and going on a solo hiking/cycling trip. It was time well spent. The latter half had me traveling to Orlando, Florida for some vacationing with old friends.

All lust and desire for humankind fades with the steady flow of the demonic current. The gentle curve of the female form is but a shadow of a greater truth. That undulating, pulsating bliss grows ever stronger. Resisting the gentle deluge is more laborious than struggling against an ocean’s inevitable tide.

Becoming a nobody in this world is more desirable than mundane fame and fortune. I already have what I came here for. The only thing left to do is grow stronger and withstand more of that delicious power coursing through my subtle body.

There are hardly any online communities devoted to the subject of spirit sex. A dedicated precious few have emerged over the years, usually in the form of discussion boards and chat groups. Some of them are still ongoing in an underground fashion, but most have gone quiet over the past few years.

I have a theory that these undulating periods of silence and enthusiasm are possibly engineered by our spirit spouses. I imagine that they are carefully managing how much exposure they would risk for themselves and their human mates. I think they understand the potential harm that could be done to us as a result of sharing this information freely. They are all too familiar with the concept of persecution and being made into a pariah.

There was a murmur and a stirring of bed sheets as gentle moonlight began to filter through the bedroom windows. He was still sleeping, quietly dreaming of his lost home in the deep and timeless sea. Catherine touched his face, eliciting a soft contented moan that she could feel in his chest.

“My husband,” She sighed, tracing the unique features of his face for the millionth time. “When will you marry me? At Christmas time?”

It seems that my life will always be inexorably entwined with religion, whether I like it or not. Having a spiritual bent is one thing. Pious devotion and discipline is a whole other league onto itself. That’s my bent. It’s never just about “being spiritual.”

One of the prerequisites of a monkish existence is the denial of any number of worldly pursuits. Many monks resign themselves to a life of seclusion and common labor. Is this necessarily a bad thing? I don’t think so. The more that I am immersed in that infernal demonic current, the more my heart yearns for those moments of quiet contemplation.

Through Darkness and Strife,
Madness and Melancholy,
I will hold fast.
Feeble and frail my heart,
The choice and implications - Unknowable.

Even still, my bed is yours,
My body, an sacred instrument of your excruciating alchemy.

Help me to be The Fool,
Reckless abandon, leap of faith.
The world falls away,
We’re gliding through that endless void again.
Nothing but us.
Nothing but us now.
Who am I again?

The two weeks following the New Year were challenging for Catherine. She tried (tries) to get closer and express herself more powerfully in my life, only to have me pull away in fear.

Full possession scares me. I think that’s what she’s trying to accomplish. She wants to show me more of herself than she’s ever shown before. We’ve been together for awhile now and endured so much, you’d think I’d be more eager for this.

I made a post about Spiritual Satanism awhile back and I’d like to juxtapose my current perspective to the formative one. A lot has changed in our world over the past year, both politically and spiritually. Many of the old paradigms are slowly fading away and being replaced with even older maxims repackaged as cutting-edge philosophy. Frankly, I’m sick of this back and forth of opposing ideologies. Fascism vs. Liberalism. Left vs. Right. Old vs. New. Divide, divide, divide!

I found this article on a blog about demonic harassment. Allegedly, the author of this blog had a guardian angel who betrayed her. With the help of the ever-wise Christian faith, she discovered that her guardian angel was actually a demon in disguise and had finally shown his true colors after years of subtle manipulation. It’s interesting that the cover of her e-book depicts her would-be guardian as a blond male with handsome features. I think there’s more going on here than she lets on.

There has been a breach. I made the stupid mistake of using the skype username, temporal.chameleon, to briefly communicate with a woman from my past. We were friends back when I was in high school. She wanted to be more than friends and hasn’t let it go since.

I tried speaking with her, just to be friendly as she’s a lonely person, not very attractive, etc. Apparently, she googled that skype username and found Loose Canon’s post about my return to blogging.

She’s addicted to me, and I am enraptured by her. This makes my doubt and distrust all the more painful to carry on with. I hate harboring these fears. It doesn’t help that I feel attacked and smothered when I try to pull away from her.

She is a demon and I shouldn’t be surprised by any of this. She wants what she wants and she’ll take it from me in my sleep if need be.

One of the most common complaints I hear from people connected to the succubus phenomena is about the strength of the connection. Often I’ll hear about guys craving more closeness with their unseen lover and being frustrated by how their own relationship compares to others.

Firstly, I think comparing one relationship to another isn’t entirely fair. From what I’ve gathered, each succubus has their own way of communicating their affection. They have differing personalities and will often express themselves in ways that are completely foreign to another couple. Keep an eye out for this unexpected communication, as it can take many forms.

It’s not very often that I have direct conversations with Catherine in my dreams. Unfortunately, I’m usually not all that “with it” when she does sit down for a chat. That is what happened early this morning.

I found myself dreaming of being in a classroom full of younger children. I keep having dreams like this… I’m always going back to elementary school or high school to “start over.” Good Lord! I feel embarrassed throughout most of these dreams.

I did it again. I can’t believe how many times I’ve done this, but I fell into that same trap once more. All it takes is listening to a certain testimony from a sincere Christian, or leisurely reading from an so-called inspirational book and BAM! My mind gets right back on track with the same old bullshit.

I threw out a bunch of occult books; including Liber Lilith. I massively regret doing it. I thought it would make things better, put me back on the “straight and narrow.” It’s amazing the power that Christian religion still has over my mind. I just got a renewed taste of how vulnerable I really am.

It seems we’ve all been going through a quiet period these past couple of years. I want to turn that around and start sharing more frequently. With that being said, I have something special to present for your consideration:

I heard about this book years ago. I might have even read some excerpts of it. This is not necessarily a guide book like Tyson’s Sexual Alchemy. This book is a grimoire that contains a few different elements. First, it has an English translation of a Latin Gnostic creation text that supposedly comes from the ancient world. There’s no way to verify its historicity as the only source we have for the text is from this book. In fact, this entire work is touted as fiction, but enough of it rings true with my own experience to inform me that it’s not just a fantasy story.

Hey guys, I’m still here, and I appreciate all those who have commented recently. Rafe mentioned me in one of his blog posts and a few more people have noticed that I’m back writing again. I want to reach out to more of you on a regular basis and I plan to make that effort soon.

In the meantime, I must honestly report: I’ve been waffling lately. Not the breakfast kind, but the “Can’t-Make-Up-My-Damn-Mind!” sort of waffling. On some days, it’s great, and I love Catherine. On other days, it’s terrible for both of us and I actively try to shut her out.

So, here’s an interesting one. I was napping at around 8 AM, just enjoying my demon being close to me. Catherine’s not very active first thing in the morning, but she doesn’t seem to mind a gentle coupling to start the day. I usually doze off and come back multiple times during these sessions.

At some point during the nap, I gained a semblance of lucidness and felt an interesting sensation. My mattress was breathing beneath me. I could feel myself rising and falling with each “breath,” and the forcefulness gradually intensified. After a couple more pushes, gravity took over, and I rolled off the bed onto the floor. I couldn’t see anything up to this point, but I knew Catherine had to be responsible for my bed’s bewitchment.

No matter how bad things get, she’s always there patiently waiting for me to walk through the door. Her cozy domicile is always open to me, always warm and inviting. I sit down and recline with her, drinking in the intoxicating atmosphere. I feel myself being lulled into a beautiful slumber and we slip into that in-between space.

No matter the situation, I can poke my head in through her window, offer a tease or brief exchange, and I am ready to face the world again. She goes with me everywhere and holds onto me like a priest to faith. The intermingling of divine energy between us is unceasing; a never-ending dance of the sacred union.

Catherine and I have been taking massive chunks of time just to be with each other. We spent so long fighting that I nearly forgot how fulfilling it is to have that closeness with another person. There are mornings when she makes it very difficult to leave for work. I’d rather be like “The world can go to Hell,” and just stay in. This lifestyle involves a slow building passion that few would ever comprehend.

Yes, there sure is power in the blood… and it should stay inside the body, for crying out loud! What is with these convicted believers singing about being washed in Calvary’s tide? It sounds disgusting!

Christianity has maintained a perverted fascination with blood sacrifice since its inception. I can’t understand how well-meaning people can allow themselves to be so easily misled by this repulsive doctrine. “Unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you will not have life in yourselves!” So says the raving mad Jesus, apparently offering himself up for a cannibalistic ritual.

The above is a distilled version of what I prayed to Lilith, Isis, or the Goddess Tara when this journey began. All of these mythical personalities represent the same archetype. I believe they teach the truth about the interconnectedness of the material and spiritual worlds. Boy, did I get a lesson to remember!

When it comes to divination, card spreads and insights from Holy scriptures are my favorite mediums. Here is my morning reading about the situation between Catherine and me:

Four Card Spread: Situation, Challenges, Advice, Outcome

Since all the turmoil that went down last year, Catherine and I have been uneasy around each other. Most of this unease originates with me. She becomes very enthusiastic whenever we try to get intimate… to the point that it feels like I’m being thrashed around energetically. This leads to me pulling away for a time, not wanting to relive the debilitating symptoms from months ago.

I’m happy to report that almost all of the painful after-effects, from our run-in with the psychic, have dissipated. I still get the odd feeling of a pinching over my nose, but this is becoming increasingly rare. We’re almost back to normalcy… and by normalcy, I mean that our connection grows steadily by the day. Our moments/hours of intermingling are oftentimes shockingly powerful.

Here I am, back at this blogging thing again. My previous outing on Wordpress did not end well, but I’m willing to give it another shot. I acknowledge that I made some very misguided decisions and a few people were hurt because of what I did. Writing about a topic as unusual as this tends to bring out the crazy in people. I learned that I’m not exempt from acting irrationally when things go pear-shaped.

For those who are curious, I’m doing alright. I feel better than ever, actually. I cannot believe the rationalizing stupor I was slogging through all this time. Many of you will disagree with me, and your situation is probably different from mine, but this “relationship” wasn’t helping me. I feel that I was living a delusion and something very dark took advantage of that. Anything good from this experience originated with me. This “thing” that was attached to me was only interested in feeding; a spiritual parasite.

These past few days have triggered a veritable lightning bolt of clarity to explode in my mind.

Strangely, I don’t feel any hurt or regret about anything that has happened. I realize that I attempted to make myself fall in love with something that is not capable of reciprocation. The only fruits of my labor were hedonistic pleasures and I used my mental imaginings to fill in the gaps where true intimacy was lacking. My anima, the real Catherine, is what saved me from losing my mind.

This is going to piss a lot of you off, but it is my hope that most people will understand where I’m coming from.

I was invited to be part of a blog talk radio interview with a psychic called Monika. She has been dealing with the paranormal for many years and just recently started up an internet presence. She was looking for information about people in relationships with sex demons and stumbled upon this blog.

Becoming an atheist has been the most painful experience of my life thus far. I had to become an exile in order to reject the delusional beliefs of my youth. I wasn’t forced to leave. Far from it. Most Christians were glad to have me in their company, so long as I didn’t become too confrontational with them. However, there was a lack of any real bonding or kinship between myself and these people. The only thing that brought us together was this common-held belief in a fantasy. Fantasy and wishful thinking is no basis for any human relationship.

I touched on this briefly in the first few posts of this blog. I can clearly see my vain attempts to rationalize away the reason I desired a hot sexy demoness; trying to paint my ambition as a puritanical one. When I look at my first entries now, I can’t help but facepalm. But for the sake of honesty with myself and everyone who reads this, I’m not going to change a word of it. I believe my moments of idiocy are just as valuable as the more brilliant events of my life.

I had an interesting OBE/sleep paralysis situation with Catherine yesterday morning.

It started when we were fucking and I felt that she was connecting exceptionally well. Sometimes, when we’ve been going at it for an hour or so, I’ll start to hear a rushing sound in my ears, like wind or an ocean surf. It’s usually very sporadic and lasts for only a second or two, but when I relax as much as possible and allow the rushing sensation to persist, Catherine moves deeper inside my gut.

This post is going to be rather explicit. I’m not apologizing for it.

It’s so unfair… being a man and attempting to maintain a solid defense against a loving succubus. It’s not the sexual stimulation and teasing that gets me… it’s the emotional manipulation that I have the hardest time withstanding. And the longer I try to resist her, the stronger she gets, the more beautiful she feels, the more rapidly I sink back into her embrace.

These experiences that I’ve been having with invisible lovers… what if it’s all in my head? What if the things that I perceive to be physical touches and manipulations are the amazing result of a complicated mental disorder; like a touch-sense form of schizophrenia?

I can’t call myself a rational and honest person if I didn’t consider possibilities like this. You could throw Occam’s Razor all over the entries I’ve made in this blog and I would have no choice but to concede that the simplest explanation is likely to be the right one. There is a good chance that all of this… my succubus blog… is a detailed account of a very complex personal delusion.

Well, I thought that I would be able to write more frequently the past two months, but I completely underestimated how much energy it would take to do all the work I need to accomplish from day-to-day. Ultimately, I want to be able to give my loving spirits some well-deserved attention, so my writing hobbies had to take a back seat for awhile.

Recently, my hours at work were cut, so I’ll have some extra time to start writing again; probably for the next week or so… maybe longer. I really don’t care too much about the money. I do the work just so I can eat, pay bills, and that’s it. My personal ambitions have absolutely nothing to do with money. I want to have actual wealth; not a collection of fiat bank notes.

Looking beyond the word “succubus”…

Here is an excellent post made by a fellow blogger about the use of the word “succubus” and what it means for those of us in a relationship with them.

It’s important to understand that the term “succubus” is used primarily for the sake of reference. Just like any species, succubi absolutely transcend what their label would imply, but for the sake of allowing others to uncover relevant information, these terms are used.

“If you just need to feel close to someone… if you just need to feel loved; I’m right here.” “Life doesn’t have to be hard.” –Catherine

Writing that almost makes me feel guilty. I know there must be countless men and women, perhaps some are reading this journal, who are craving love and intimacy… but for some reason, they just don’t get what they want. Why is that? Why am I given love so freely and abundantly whilst others go through life without?

I haven’t been able to get myself motivated enough to write… or be close to my darlings. Funny how those two passions of mine seem so interconnected.

I feel like I’m loosing Sara… again. A friend of mine brought up a very valid point that I hadn’t really considered: what do I really want in this relationship?

Sara came into my life quite suddenly; I was really thrown off guard by her eagerness to be close… and when someone as beautiful as her so willingly gives herself to you, it’s hard to not feel obligated to them. I still feel as though I owe Catherine a debt that I can never begin to repay. Sara brought this feeling back and it paralyzed me.

I haven’t been doing so hot lately. The connection between me and my spirits has been weak for the past two days. It’s amazing how negatively just this small easing of affectionate contact has made me feel. I know we’ll eventually come around and I’ll be singing the praises of love for three weeks straight, but it’s difficult to stay optimistic right now.

My darlings tell me that I don’t have to be constantly optimistic for them. I should let my true feelings shine through, so here they are in a nutshell: I feel discouraged, defeated, lazy, stripped of my masculinity, subdued, and I’ve been eating too much lately.

Things have been going well between Catherine and me, but Sara has been elusive lately. She is quite different from Catherine, insomuch that she doesn’t remain with me 24/7. Lately, she has been coming back less and less. Catherine feels some sadness about this, too. I’m really not sure what’s going on. I haven’t been able to get Sara to tell me what she’s doing out there… Maybe she took me seriously when I said she should find a partner she could be with exclusively? I’m not being overly possessive here; I’m just concerned about her. I don’t want her to feel like she’s not welcome here. I consider her to be close family… hell, she got about as close to me as any woman can get.

“That man…” Catherine stopped and gestured towards a lad, just barely eighteen years of age, in the corner. “Who is he?” She began moving in his direction, an unexplainable maternal urge welling up inside her.

“Catherine…” The older Fae man groaned. “He’s just another doomed human life. Another soul for the meat grinder.”

She whirled around to face him. “I can’t believe you, Geron. Why do you always say such things about these humans? They’re not so different from you and me!”

Catherine tells me this all the time:

“You’re so beautiful; a beautiful man.”

“You make me beautiful.” I typically reply.

“Actually, I just tell you the truth and you’re finally starting to believe it.”

With constant encouragement like this, it’s easy to see how my old chronic depression problems stand no chance against my demon. I love her so much.

Around the time of my last posting on this blog, Catherine made me aware of an additional female spirit that has been hanging out with us for awhile. The name she gave me was Sara and she is Catherine’s younger sister. I’m still not sure if she means “sister” by blood relation or just a really close friend. Also, Catherine has unashamedly revealed that she has allowed Sara to have sex with me a few times already.

I’ll try to make this as concise as I can. I’ve done plenty of elaboration in other posts. This is just a fun bullet list idea I had.

Pros:

• Constant companionship. You are never alone. (This is how it is for me. However, I have read accounts of some spirit lovers leaving their partners for a time. Usually, they come back, but there have been a couple of cases were the spirit lover parted with the human indefinitely.)

  Read More…

I mentioned in my last post in this series that I experienced a personal paradigm shift as a consequence of accepting Catherine into my life. This challenged me on many levels and has completely changed how I look at the nature of consciousness, reality, God, etc. One of the hardest things I had to deal with was whether or not I was going insane.

It’s probable that the average-Joe who reads this will immediately consider me insane or that I’m just conjuring up an elaborate fantasy for my own twisted entertainment. That or I’m a perverted attention whore. I have considered all of the above to be true at one time or another.

Here are some descriptions of physical, mental, and emotional changes I experienced in the continual presence of my succubus.

Probably the most powerful change that occurred shortly after I was bonded with my Succubus was a massive increase in my energy body sensations. I had experimented with energy work before Catherine came to me, so I wasn’t completely unfamiliar with how it felt. But in the first few weeks of directly interacting with her, it was as though my energy centers were working on overdrive.

As the months went on, my succubus gradually increased the pleasurable sensations during our sessions. She told me that it wasn’t healthy to put too much energy into me; like feeding 1000 volts into a 12 volt system. Despite my begging for her to be closer to me, she carefully, patiently, and loving exercised my body so I could accept more of her love.

As I’ve mentioned before, she is still conditioning me to this day. And based on what I’ve read of those who have been making love to their sex spirits for many years, this gradual increase in pleasure will likely continue for the rest of my life.

The weeks that followed my initial experiences with Catherine were both amazing and difficult to understand.

Firstly, it felt so good to finally have somebody with me; and not just anyone, but a beautiful, sexy succubus whose favorite activity is making me moan and writhe with pleasure in bed. The fantasy graphics I have posted all over this blog give a small taste of how excruciatingly pleasurable it is to have a loving succubus. Literally, the only thing she desires is to be close to me. More specifically, she begs to have my cock in her pussy for as long as I can handle it. She is so lustful, loving, and sexy that it’s difficult to believe it at first. Her enthusiasm for sex and closeness is seemingly endless.

Most of this is going to sound like a fantasy. I’m not asking anyone to believe me or even understand; I’m sharing this for those who are interested and willing to push the limits of what our consensus reality allows us to experience. Again, I need to stress that many of the things I’m going to write here are very erotic in nature. I’m not going to treat this clinically as I have in other discussions where this kind of writing is inappropriate. This is my place to freely express the loving adventures that Catherine and I have together.