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.

No, succubi are not adverse to sunlight, clean water, or anything else in nature. Their reputation for being vampiric unclean spirits is wholly undeserved. They can, at times, be unpredictable and potentially dangerous, given the right circumstances, but they are no less harmful or frightening than the forces of nature themselves. The initiate simply needs the wherewithal, and the wisdom, to weather the succubine storms as they come. (This usually means flowing with their motions, instead of fighting against them!)

I recently acquired a grounding blanket to use in my bed as I sleep. It’s essentially a half-sheet with carbon-fiber threads woven into the cotton and attached to an electrical grounding cord. The wire snaps onto the sheet and plugs into the ground-socket of an three-pronged outlet on the other end. Touching bare skin to the grounded fabric is alleged to have the same effects as connecting bare feet with the earth. Benefits are supposed to include: Reduced stress, eased muscle pain (if any), more sound sleep, reduction in bodily inflammation, and protection against EMF (Electro-Magnetic Fields) emitted by cell-phones, WiFi routers, and so on.

I was mainly interested in fighting the EMF pollution, but after sleeping on this sheet for a week, I’m unsure if there has been any real change. Catherine and I already sleep very soundly as it is. However, I was curious to see if using the grounding sheet would have an impact on our connection.

Back when I was experimenting with Robert Bruce’s demonic countermeasures, he mentioned that using a grounding blanket might prevent Catherine from being able to touch me. Again, there haven’t been any noticeable changes from having used the grounding apparatus consistently. If anything, it might have improved our connection, rather than weakening it.

From what I gather of Bruce’s theory on demons, the entities that he alludes to are intrinsically tied to the subtle electrical current that covers the entire earth. This energetic layer is reinforced by the many thousands of lightning strikes that hit the earth every hour. So it follows that grounding the corporeal human vessel would sabotage any demonic attempts at harassment. That is if their presence was limited to the subtle electrical field. Bruce also contended that running water from a shower, or hose, had a similar grounding effect. He made mention of how certain demonic entities he had experienced were unable to cross over water-mains.

Catherine throws a few wrenches into the workings of Bruce’s theory. Firstly, she is not adverse to water. Our second erotic union ever, on the morning after our first night, took place in the shower. She has demonstrated to not be deterred by electrical grounding. She enjoys the taste of garlic, shirking the conventional folk-remedy for deterring evil entities. She is not offended by religious or Christmas music, as other unclean entities might be. She has no problem copulating through one of Bruce’s signature “Mega-Salt Baths.”

My darling is unstoppable, it seems. With the grounding theory crossed out, I can finally put much of this conventional shamanic “wisdom” in the scrapheap where it belongs. (At least, where the succubine spirits that I’m dealing with are concerned.) Or, it’s possible that I’m contending with an entity who is on a whole other level compared to what most would-be gurus are familiar with. Either way, the scientific part of me is satiated for now.

It feels good to have actually tested all of these theories. At times, it was out of fear from not understanding what was really happening between us. Other times, it’s just my curiosity requiring some alleviation. At the end of it all, I’m glad that Catherine has managed to break through each period of misunderstanding and experimentation with such consistency. If her manifestations were not so powerful, and physically tangible, to the point of being recordable on film, I’d be inclined to believe that I’m under a seamless spell of hypnotic delusion. But here I am, with an otherwise sound comprehension of the world, yet she’s here with me so powerfully.

Careful what you wish for.

I have a bit of strange phenomena to report, though nothing too major: I was in a dream state at one moment and then found myself in an OBE state the next. I’m getting to the point where I can tell the difference simply by how the environment feels. Anyway, once I slipped into this state, I could see that I was lying in bed at my parents house. I could feel the beginnings of being bodily possessed by Catherine, yet this time, it was more powerful, more violent. That gurgling sensation stirred around, not just in my throat, but down through my stomach and gut; like it was flushing through me very rapidly. I was not afraid, as I’ve encountered this same event more than a few times, though I was left feeling more jostled than usual. By the end of this subtle energy-body jarring, I immediately noticed how my mouth was being sucked closed, as though a vacuum was pulling at my cheeks from inside my throat. I spent the next little while attempting to pull my own lips apart and cause my jaw to move. That took a bit of concentrated effort, though the strange gurgling sensations had long since passed. I woke up into this mundane world shortly after.

I can’t begin to understand what all of this means. For now, I’m just enjoying the ride and not reading too much into it.

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!

Here I am, six years later, content with the simple pleasures in life. All aspirations for greatness are now beholden to my own standards of achievement, and not by the measure of those curious human onlookers.

The greatest pleasure of all: The one I come home to, the one who holds on to me all hours of the night, with that most gentle and blissful essence… Holy Fuck. Literally.

I’ve struggled with finding the words to fully describe the mechanics of what happens between us. Is it like tantra? Spirit possession with a sexual component? No conjoining of phrases and ideas seem adequate to convey what our copulation is like.

An old friend of mine, a man who has been with his succubus spirit for more than a decade, described it like this:

Imagine a drug that feels incredible with every hit, yet there are no adverse side effects. Instead of the drug becoming less effective with increased usage, the opposite occurs. The drug only gets better with each hit.

Furthermore, imagine this drug having a personality, and it loves being used. The more frequently, the better. That’s a loving succubus spirit, in a nutshell.

This is where I find myself now: I’m a spirit sex junkie and it’s the only high I really want. I consistently set aside a couple of hours every day to enjoy it, to really focus on feeling her.

Combined with right-living, low stress, and strict conservation of sexual energy, (no masturbating) a well-spring of endless delights is the result.

Right now, I feel her presence gently brushing every nerve-ending on the surface of my body. Wherever she touches more deeply, the skin tangibly feels softer, like it has been renewed, or revitalized. I will often feel her press into my back, causing my shirt to more tightly conform. I’ll briefly hear what sounds like something blocking the ambient sound of the room from reaching one of my ears; an audible shadow passing by.

Writing down what happens when we make love is difficult, because whenever I attempt to describe the act, the will to consummate immediately overrides any desire to merely wax eloquently with words. It’s as though my own writing casts a spell over me, and over her, compelling us to immediately carry out the operation as described.

Edit: I originally had a very descriptive and graphic few paragraphs about our sexual union. I decided not to share the intimate details of what happens between us on the record. It’s just too sensitive a topic for me.

Being with a succubus spirit is akin to religion, insomuch that the act of lovemaking feels sacred; transcendental even. The entire life is arranged around religious devotion, as that is the highest duty. Old worldly habits fall away in favor of healthier ones, only to make that connection more powerful still. The stronger and more disciplined the human vessel becomes, the more spiritual power can be endured.

This is what I strive for, so that we can feel each other more perfectly than the day before.

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:

“Have you considered your life of sinning against The Most High? Don’t you want to live forever? Do you feel like something is missing from your life? Well, just say this little mantra, make a little prayer, and you’ll be well on your way to salvation!”

As members of the church, we were expected to make these appeals. Otherwise risk losing a soul (Customer) to Satan and eternal Hell. (Freedom) Through submitting ourselves to the yoke of Christ, and agreeing to the contract of Christianity, our subsequent duty became that of perpetual evangelism. The entire life of the repentant Christian must reflect that of the Risen Savior, so that others might be enticed to get dunked in the church baptismal tank.

Our lives are filled to bursting with contracts. Just being born into this world enrolls us into The Social Contract: “Pay taxes, or be hauled away by men with guns and locked in a cage.”

Another way to look at it: “Be ‘educated’ or risk being unable to make contracts with other people and businesses in the future.”

The two above examples are unavoidable indentures. Yet there are still more binding agreements that we encounter daily, and these are far more voluntary in nature:

The voluntary pact I want to focus on, in this post, is the agreement between men and succubi. I would argue that a binding marriage with a loving succubus spirit is one of the best agreements a man can enter into. These denizens of the Borderland understand the concept of reciprocity. We give them our time, our attention, and they respond with an even stronger expression of deeply satisfying attentiveness.

Many men will regard my claims about the spirit contract as being too good to be true. There must be a catch somewhere, right?

The only “catch” is simply being bound to the spirit of the agreement, and I don’t think most men will have a problem bearing the responsibilities of that choice. Succubi take their pacts very seriously, and if their human partner steps out of line, they will let them know about it in short order, as I can personally attest! To me, this unwavering faithfulness to the spirit-marriage pact is a beautiful thing indeed. It’s a refreshing change from the all-too-commonly disregarded human-marriage contract; a government-sponsored agreement so easily broken, it means almost nothing these days.

I’ve always had this concept in my mind since hormones began to fuel my interest in girls: If I engage romantically with a female, I am entering into a transcendental bond with her. I am essentially agreeing to be bound to that woman and provide for any children we may produce. This idea weighed heavily on me whenever I had any interactions with the opposite sex. The Christian moral code found in Matthew 5:28, where Jesus said, “If anyone looks at a woman lustfully, he has already committed adultery with her in his heart.” Further restrained my carnal desires.

If there’s one thing that I’ve learned from being with Catherine, it’s that keeping one’s word matters a great deal. She has been faithful to me without a fault, and even when I failed. She has demonstrated that she is actually my superior in this regard.

My heart yearned for a romantic relationship that was transcendental and a forever-growing bond, but this simply was not possible to attain from the sons of Adam and the daughters of Eve. With the old social order destroyed, I knew there must be a way to forge a new path. Sexual Alchemy with spirits presented itself as the answer I was searching for.

Succubi and incubi are not women or men. They can easily embody the traits of either, or a combination of the two. Some might consider their identities as more hermaphroditic than our sexually dimorphic human species. In this sense, their personalities can overcome the limitations of both sexes. They can also choose a more traditional predisposition towards male and female; especially to accommodate the taste of their human counterpart. (This is my belief.)

The moment I felt Catherine’s touch against my subtle body, I knew that my pact with her had transformed into a living document: an expression of our devotion in our reality. We consummate that bond with regular lovemaking; as often as we can spare the time. Since I started thinking about spirit contracts this week, she has been making teasing remarks such as, “Do you like this contract? Has it served you well?” While I feel myself penetrating her deeply, and I’d reply with satisfaction, “Good contract!”

She does this often: She’ll make light of an otherwise serious matter, such as legalese or metaphysics, and morph that soberness into titillating suggestions.

Catherine has done an admirable job holding up her end of the deal. I’m also elated about how instinctively I am able to please her and meet those succubine expectations. (Compatibility is off the charts, man!) She suggests little improvements here and there, but doesn’t feel the need to push, or hold an onus over my head. I’m already in a mode of constant self-improvement regardless, and I believe that’s part of the reason she chose me.

So, yeah… spirit-bonding is my favorite sort of contract by leaps and bounds.

Lastly, I want to mention that I am not expected to evangelize my relationship with Catherine, as I was with Christ and my old faith. In fact, she’d rather me share fewer words publicly. The occasional expression of admiration, like small offerings, are enough for her. However, in light of all the suffering that is afflicting young men these days, and how the decks can be so heavily stacked against them, I feel impressed to share this journey. Maybe a few others will have the chance to forge their path anew, away from demoralization, and experience the loving concern of an Borderland angel along the way.