The Incubus effect: More than three years ago I wrote about being called a Succubus in the entry to this blog for June 27, 2009 entitled ‘What am I?’ I got that reputation because I seemed insatiable to a lover who needed far more stamina than he had to satisfy me. Until now I’ve never mentioned my erotic dreams where I’m being pursued by the Succubus opposite, the Incubus, a male demon believed to have sexual intercourse with sleeping women,. Now that the Incubus has been let out of the closet- in a manner of speaking – and appears in the comments section I may as well confess my terror, fascination and desire for sex with them in my dreams.
The Incubus ‘outing’ occurred because Brenda, a good friend and frequent reader, commented that she is now wearing a Reflexions diaphragm for protection from an incubus in her closet. She wrote in a comment that having a Reflexions inserted “improved my sleep, protected myself from the incubus in my closet and increased my masturbation in both frequency and response”. I’m not certain that she wasn’t just kidding about the Incubus, but it struck a nerve with me. I had thought I was the only one with them in my closets. I had considered having an exorcism performed to rid myself of them, but found I am so massively turned on when I dream about being taken by one that I decided the thrill outweighs the horror of the dream.
Protection and the sacrament: The first time I was taken by a demon in my dreams was after I had become sexually active at boarding school. I had been sent to Father Tom, the parish priest and the schools spiritual advisor, for counseling as even then I disliked authority. Fr Tom was very fond of underage girls who had reached menarche and one thing quickly lead to another until he became my lover during my weekly therapy sessions at the rectory. My dreams of sex with a demon began shortly afterward. At the time it seemed perfectly ok for Fr Tom, when he took me into his confidence, to physically demonstrate the blessings enjoyed within the sacrament of marriage and during each session he would remind me of those blessings by our union when he released his seed inside me. He never wore a condom saying that was the equivalent of spilling his seed on the ground. So even though I Kegeled most of it out of me before I left the rectory his spunk drained into a pad I wore in my panties as I rode my bike back to school.
I had already been fitted with a diaphragm, a 65mm latex All-Flex, at menarche by Student Health to use for flow control during menses, but we all knew we were expected to use them for protection during sex because spermicide and reusable applicators were readily available from a display on the counter concealed from the view of a casual observer behind a large potted plant next to a portrait of the blessed virgin. You didn’t even have to ask for it we just took what we needed. I always inserted my diaphragm with spermicide in the dome and put more spermicide and a reusable applicator in my purse before riding one of the school’s bikes to the rectory so I was prepared to participate in the sacrament w/o further preparation. Fr Tom always checked with his finger while caressing me to ensure he could feel that I had my diaphragm in place before he entered me. At menarche we were all allowed to wax out pubes and when I started the sight of my waxed vulva caused him to revise his therapy regimen apparently convinced I needed to experience the blessings of the marriage bed at least twice and occasionally a third time during the hour he was counseling me. He was extremely conscientious in that way.
The dream: Dreaming of being taken by a male demon always occurs when I’m menstrual, wearing a Reflexions latex diaphragm and sleeping alone. If I’m sleeping with a human sexual partner my sleep is undisturbed by the erotic terror of being in thrall to an Incubus. In the dream I can be any age from 14 to 40 and the details of where I am, how I’m dressed and how I’m taken will vary. My therapist says it’s my subconscious punishing me for being amoral and trampling traditional moral values. Perhaps, but being taken in my demon controlled nightmares is so intense that the afterglow and strong vaginal contractions continue for hours afterward and I’m limp the next morning. I think the dream is actually addictive as I’m now avoiding most human sleeping companions when menstrual to enjoy the terror of being ravaged by my Incubus.
One version: In one version of my Incubus driven nightmares I’m fertile (even though I’m bleeding) so the Reflexions wonderfully soft stretchy dome is the only thing protecting me from being impregnated. I can feel every wart and open sore on the demon’s twisted rigid penis as his brutal thrusts batter my cervix! I’ve always wondered why with the latex membrane being so marvelously soft an incubus’ sharp pointed penis has never punctured the dome as he whispers in my ear that he will. And the threat terrifies me every time!. The part of the nightmares about the dome being breached I suspect is to make me experience the terror of anticipation, waiting for him to actually breach my protection leaving me vulnerable, at his mercy, toying with me rather than just getting it over with puncturing the dome and inseminating me. In my sleep he can mind-fuck me with the threat of imminent insemination and I’m just as terrified each time regardless of how many times I’ve had the dream. It’s mind blowing being taken by a devil while asleep and waking to find I not only survived, but my diaphragm is still undamaged and protecting my cervix and that I orgasmed during the experience and am sexually spent!
Another version: I’m in tights, Freed toe-shoes and a sports top. My nipples are leaking soaking the fabric of my compression cups and the scent of warm milk and sweat is in the air and the sulfuric aroma of burning anthracite is on his breath. I’m wearing my tights belt-rolled so the fabric is pulled up separating my cheeks and displaying my mons pubis beautifully as the thick crotch gusset is being soaked by my arousal fluids. I’m balanced en pointe and can feel the blocks of my Freeds beginning to melt while I’m backed against a barre as the creature fondles me between my legs. My belly tingles, I become lightheaded and nearly faint from the rush of blood pooling in my pelvis to engorge my labia and the shaft of my clitoris while my uterus is almost jerked up and back as my vagina rapidly tents and I feel a gush of vaginal lube as more of it drains into the thick absorbent crotch gusset.
With a razor sharp fingernail he slits the gusset and I feel my vaginal discharge running down my thighs soaking my ruined tights. He is already erect and dripping pre-cum when he has me guide the tip of his massive prehensile penis between my spread labia and pushes it inside me. I’m wearing my Reflexions which is nearly impossible for a man to under-thrust its rim, but with the prehensile penis of an Incubus the flat spring is no protection. I can feel his tip twist and push up between my vaginal wall and the rim and feel the vacuum release as he breaks the seal. The demon pushes further, under-thrusts the rim and within seconds he is inside the dome and the exquisite sensation of skin-on-skin as his dripping tip caresses my G-spot makes my cry. He is so large I feel wonderfully full and when he comes it is as though he is spewing warming gel as the pressure forces some of his semen directly through the open os of my ripe cervix and I know his seed will be waiting in my tubes for me to release an egg within a few hours.
Waking from this version the desire to pull out my diaphragm while I’m still on my back in bed is nearly overwhelming, but I usually manage to get to the toilet before I carefully pull it out to check for signs of semen mixed with my menstrual flow in the dome. The latex membrane of dome is undamaged and there is no semen to be found only brown blood and some clots. When that’s all I discover I find I’ve been holding my breath and I’m always so relieved, but weak from such an intense sexual encounter!
Such a rich blog! So much to respond! On the fast train to Frankfurt to catch a plane to Rwanda where I hope there is not an incubus waiting. The religious dimension, I shall save for another response. I never had a priest - at least not a Roman Catholic one, only Druidic priests - by the dozens.
ReplyDeleteThe concept of incubus is at least 5000 years old, at least as written down. It seems that women have had demons fuck them in various ways for nearly ever. All three Ibrahamic religions have found them extremely useful: how else to excuse a pregnant nun in the 1500s? Certainly she would not have done that! And, more importantly, no monk, the only men she had access to, would ever do such a thing. It must have been a demon! Monks awaking with erections, or spots on their beds, could not have desired that! Must have been a succubus.
Some cultures have found bi-sexual incubi. It functions as a succubus to withdraw semen from a sleeping man and then becomes male to use that semen to impregnate a sleeping woman. More cultures, including mine, make theirs gender specific.
The incubus in my closet, or wherever he lurks ( I suspect in the unused box of Kotex that has been in my vanity for years, is really quite attractive and a good sexual partner. He always takes the form of some man with whom I have been close, desired sex but somehow we never quite got to it. I never know whom it will be but, as in my daydreams, always a handsome desirable lover whose semen I never extracted and we are always age appropriate. Though I cannot any longer generate a heavy, bloody flow - my favorite time!
He hovers over me, sucks on my nipples, knowing my right is wired directly to my clitoris, and then lowers himself to gain access to my warmest, wettest region. I reach to guide him in and awake to a thrashing orgasm with my own hands twisting and turning my labia into a pretzel wanting it to hurt enough to remember. And as I begin to relax, he fades back into his box of pads to rest. And I feel very well fucked. As the swelling and engorgement of my pudenda resolves, I fall back asleep. In the morning, there is no smell of semen and I feel terribly disappointed.
Hi Brenda, I hope your flight to Rwanda was uneventful and as pleasant as possible. Be safe! Good old-fashioned Catholic Guilt gives one such fertile ground to sow seeds of night terrors.
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