Ballet-sex and ballet dancers as Succubi

A Semina diaphragm on its introducer

The photo: This is such a lovely photo showing the beauty of the tools used training a modern enchantress. A silicone Semina (coil spring) diaphragm on its introducer which makes it easier to insert, here displayed on a pair of Gaynor Minden pointe shoes. Semina is available in six diameter sizes, from 60 to 85mm, in 5mm increments and is made in Brazil. I use it as a starter cervical barrier for students needing barrier protection.

Summer ballet intensive: I’m working with a large private London ballet school holding a two week adult Ballet Intensive starting this coming Monday June 29^th.  I’ll be teaching pointe and am already working with the female students to minimize the risk of conceiving from encounters with male students during the course. The girl’s ages rang from nineteen to twenty-three so all are over the age of consent for sex with male students. All are on some effective form of contraception if used correctly. However, the swimming pool and hot tub are two favorite locations for sex where a woman can float nearly weightless with her legs around her partner’s waist while letting him take her to orgasm and then fill her with semen. No hormonal method or IUD will protect her from the possibility of reproductive tract infections from water forced into the uterus so some form of cervical protection is needed as ‘flood insurance’. A FemCap can be used if the woman doesn’t have an IUD, isn’t on her period or is being penetrated when deeper than 25 feet underwater. The depth limitation is due to the uncomfortable squeeze of the dome on the wearer’s cervix below that depth. A correctly sized and properly placed diaphragm can be worn effectively at any point in a woman’s cycle, at any depth and with lube in the dome for IUD users to prevent the strings sticking to the dome. So a diaphragm is the barrier of choice.

Students and Semina diaphragms: Vaginal flooding during underwater sex is fairly common. Fortunately having water forced into the uterus is not, but it does occur and a pelvic infection can jeopardize a woman’s fertility. So I am fitting the students with contraceptive diaphragms to be worn to prevent uterine flooding from a partner’s thrusting during underwater sex. I fit the students with transparent silicone Semina coil spring diaphragms. Semina is made in Brazil and as a piece of protective equipment is far more attractive to young women than its Milex Omniflex counterpart making it something of a status symbol and fashion must-have for young sexually experienced students.

For young nulliparous women Semina is as effective as the more common Milex Omniflex (coil spring) and the Milex Arcing spring styles because their vaginas are tight and don’t need the heavier spring strength and wide seal flange of a Milex required for an effective fit for older women and women who have given birth. Semina is not available through NHS clinics and can only be obtained in the UK through a few private Gyn clinics.

Gaynor Minden pointes and ballet-sex: During the ballet intensive I will teach a course in ballet-sex, which as returning readers know is having penetrative intercourse with the woman entered from behind while en pointe with feet a la second bent over holding on to a barre, chair back or other suitable support. The course participants have been selected from women recommended by their local UK ballet teachers as having taken pointe for at least six years, have good technique and stamina and are in good physical health. Additionally they must have a current negative full STI panel and because there is intentional grooming they were also selected for the wealth of their families since these women will be influential as role-models in their circles of friends.

The equipment list for the course strongly recommends Gaynor Minden pointe shoes if the student can be fitted correctly. This is because they need no breaking in and the interiors of GM pointes polymer toe-boxes are heavily padded which makes standing en pointe for extended intervals and perhaps experiencing thrust-drop during ballet-sex much more comfortable than in pointe-shoes made of traditional materials. We also suggest bringing at least four pairs since thee polymer blocks don’t breathe and so are very hot to wear. Two of the sixteen women have arrived with pointes made of traditional materials so we shall see how they hold up in the ballet-sex classes.

The ballet dancer as succubus: A succubus is a female enchantress from Medieval Christian demonology that performs its evil deeds by having sex with male victims. Sucking out their victims vital fluids they hold the chosen male in their thrall. The incubus is the male version of the demon. It’s thought that in religions with sexual taboos like Christianity, the demons offered a convenient way to explain unwanted pregnancies, incest, and nocturnal emissions as being the work of evil spirits.

The present day embodiment of the succubus is a lithe and assertive ballet dancer who can hold men in her thrall by a single glance and who is adept at Pompoir. Having a single act of Pompoir with her seals his fate as her plaything as long as she is interested in him or his health permits. Once enthralled her prey is milked of his vital fluids and energy by repeated acts of intercourse which her charms have made him unable to resist. But then what man can resist having Pompoir practiced on him? Once a woman adept at Pompoir (also known as the Shanghai Grip) has milked him with her powerful rippling muscles she has him on a psychological penis-leash and he will do her bidding.

The wake of a beautiful predatory woman adept at Pompoir and with libertine tendencies is often strewn with the destroyed marriages of men who fall under her spell. Hence, some gorgeous, predatory and pelvically talented ballet dancers could in some sense be considered Succubi. Though I’ve been called a Succubus I don’t think I fall in that category, well not entirely, as I try to stay away from married men. But if they are adamant about their need for me I will sometimes acquiesce.

Pompoir training: I’ve been successful in teaching Pompoir [the milking of the male penis as its owner remains stationary while his partner’s vaginal muscles tighten and relax in sequence squeezing his glans and shaft until he ejaculates] to two of my wards, Bea and Willow. The other two, the Swan Twins Odette and Odile, weren’t willing to put in the time and effort. Perhaps they will change their minds later.

I’m introducing Pompoir as a concept to my ballet intensive students. There is no time to teach the methodology which can take months to successfully master so I will just cover it in a lecture-demonstration where I suck in and expel a glass test tube from my vagina and answer any questions the girls have. I hope to encourage an interest in some of them to pursue Pompoir training further on their own.

Seduction in Bloch Alphas

New Bloch Alpha pointes from Jenna’s last order

Bloch Alpha pointes for Bea: A few days ago I had the Bloch rep stop by when she was in the area. She was delighted to fit Willow and Bea and said in the past week there had been increased interest in the S0104 style from local dance shops in the area.  Curiously, Bea seems to be adjusting to the Alphas more quickly than Willow, but then Bea was keener to try a different style shoe and loves the fetish aspect of purely satin sheathed heels.  The ¾ outer soles light shanks have given her a challenge to increase her strength enough to stay over the blocks during ballet-sex and she is managing that amazingly well in so short a time, but then she is wearing one pair or another of them and on her toes in them most of the time. She so wants to be like Willow who she has taken as her role model!

Seduction in Bloch Alphas: I’m not the only one who is sexually arousing men while wearing Bloch S0104s. Willow is using hers for performing and while not as enamored of the shoes as Bea she is using them to her advantage to seduce her audiences with her gorgeous legs and feet with fabulous results. The men in the audiences are wild about her pointes especially the ones where her coitial discharge, a mixture of her arousal lube, DiveGel+ and semen, drip on them while she is curtseying during curtain calls. I think it’s so strange that men want pairs of a woman’s shoes that have another man’s semen on them, but perhaps they overlook that in order to have a pair damp with the woman’s sweat as well as her vaginal secretions with their distinctive musky scent.

She has turned out to be a heartbreaker. Men in her audiences routinely try to masturbate while she is performing but some actually have ejaculated while still zipped up and most prematurely ejaculate if they have it in hand.  Some men in her audiences have offered her large sums for used pairs of her Alphas, but with her trust fund she doesn’t need the cash. I’ve counseled her against selling or giving them away because once you start then every man no matter how tenuous the relationship wants a pair and all the bother isn’t worth it.

When using the Bloch Alpha for fetish wear the indicator of very strong feet – which is the only women who should be wearing them - is to have as little stage or studio grime on the heels as possible indicating that the wearer is on at least quarter-pointe when flat. Try that some time, not putting your heels on the floor for long intervals of time when standing but you aren’t on pointe.

Death rubber diaphragms and The Lorelei: Another source of death rubber diaphragms for me has become Adolph’s spa, The Lorelei. As I wrote in an earlier post our clinic fits Guests at the Lorelei with flat spring rim latex Reflexions diaphragms for flood insurance protection during dive-sex. When the vagina floods as it often does during underwater sex the hydraulics of a partner’s thrusts can force water, or far worse an air bubble, into his partner’s uterus where the water can cause PID or the air bubble could migrate into the bloodstream and cause blood clots in the lungs, a heart attack or stroke. 

Most of the guests at The Lorelei are using hormonal contraceptives or are menopausal so use of a diaphragm for contraception by guests isn’t its primary function, its flood control. So I fit them with two sizes, one that they can comfortable wear when not aroused if they want to desensitize a dry land encounter to lengthen it a bit. The other is one a size larger for flood control during underwater sex that they can only comfortably wear while aroused. The larger size makes it almost impossible for even a masochistic sadist partner to under-thrust the rim. I began wearing one size larger (an 85mm) myself double bagged over an Oves so not even Adolph who is the only man I know who has the skill, determination and loves penile pain enough to be able to routinely under-thrust and enjoy ejaculating in the dome of a Reflexions correctly sized for contraception, meaning it can be worn after IC for eight hours w/o causing the wearer discomfort and a UTI.

Death by misadventure: The size is on the outside of the dome of each Milex next to the rim and comparing the two it is easy to see one is larger, but so many guests wear the smaller one into the encounter pools it has to be intentional. And with the number of women guests and the number of acts of underwater sex there are inevitably individual tragedies many of them occurring to German or Austrian women from wealthy families or members of their circles who aspire to being like their idols.

Too, in more instances than you might imagine, the younger women are being channeled into risky behavior by their older female family members. The risky behavior supposedly proving (to interested males) that they are from warrior class families and so would make a good match for a suitable Aryan male looking for a female partner willing to take physical risks for sexual thrills.  The Lorelei had an instance of that several weeks ago when an aunt brought her sixteen and seventeen y/o nieces to the spa for their initial ballet-sex and dive-sex encounters. Both girls had Nexplanon implants and both took 70mm for conventional fitting and/75mm Reflexions for flood insurance.

I fit the aunt with Reflexions in my sizes 80 and 85mm. The nieces followed my instructions and enjoyed having their brains fucked out repeatedly by Pirate’s escort divers. The aunt went into the encounter pool wearing the smaller size after instructing her escort to under-thrust the rim. She was menstrual and very aroused. During foreplay he had blown air into her vagina. He under-thrust the rim and compressed air got in the dome. When they surfaced it expanded, entered her uterus, got into her bloodstream and she had a massive heart attack during sex while floating on the surface.  I pulled the 80mm Reflexions from her vagina myself - to add to my collection of death rubber diaphragms - and inserted a new 80mm so the ME would see the proper size. The ME is used to seeing risky sex end that way and all the proper wavers had been signed holding the Business and its employees blameless for her death by misadventure.

Brad, Jenna, and the Succubus: Brad has begun to work out with a personal trainer, is taking energy supplements and as I mentioned in an earlier post he’s now on testosterone and performance enhancing meds. When I’m costumed in Jenna’s clothes, pointes and with her Milex 70mm Omniflex diaphragm inserted he is convinced I’m Jenna and I can easily sexually exhaust him regardless of how much stamina he has at the beginning of our encounter. Immediately afterward he falls into a deep sleep for hours.

It’s fortunate that I’ll be in Scotland for the next week or so which should give him time for at least a partial recovery before I return and Jenna’s Succubus continues to suck him dry. I think he is so into this Jenna fantasy he will eventually commit suicide so he can be with her.

Sex with a Succubus - the dead wife fantasy

Jenna’s Bloch Alpha S0104 ¾ outer sole pointes

The Photo: My New psychiatrist’s, dead wife, Jenna’s, size 4 ½ Bloch pointes she wore throughout her cycle except when menstrual. As I’ve mentioned in an earlier post when menstrual she wore a 5 ½ in Bloch Alphas.

The dead wife fantasy: In my experience some virile men after losing a mate to death seek solace in fantasy sex and it happens more than you might think. But they often feel guilty about cheating on the memory of their mate. Brad’s wife had been a ballet dancer with the San Francisco Ballet when they met and married while he was in med school. He has photos of her in practice clothes and costumes in his condo and she was a lovely 27 y/o with a Balanchine body (long legs and neck, short trunk, small head and breasts and relatively big feet) when she died. He has repeatedly told me how much I look like her and from the photos of her in his home I could be her identical twin.

It turns out that beautiful Brad has a very active imagination and one of his fantasies is that I’m his dead wife and when we are alone he calls me Jenna. He has given me permission to use her dressing room and bathroom in their Condo when I share his bed. And I’m encouraged if not required to wear her clothes, jewelry and perfume. Nothing in her suite had been touched, except to be dusted and her last dirty laundry was still in her hamper with her scent still on it. I went through her lingerie drawers and closets and I have very similar tastes to hers. She had nursing bras and was still breast feeding when she died so we have that in common too. And just like me she also wore LilyPadz breast pads to help with leaking nipples. 

I meet him at his Condo for our sexual and psychotherapy sessions. Jenna’s small studio with a Marley floor, barre and mirrored wall was converted from a bedroom and can be reached through a connecting door from her dressing room.  I change into her practice clothes which fit me wonderfully well, empty my bowels and bladder, insert one of her Omniflex diaphragms and my sports plug and wear her scent. I come out of her dressing room into the studio where he is waiting for me and only then put on my pointes (Jenna’s Bloch Alphas) where he can watch. All during these sessions he calls me Jenna. After a 20 minute warm-up I change into her stripping costume and back in the studio put on Beautiful Dreamer which was one of Jenna’s favorites. The routine is about 3.5 minutes long and leaves me wearing only my Alpha pointes and plug.

I had intended to wear my own pointes as she wore Bloch in a slightly smaller size and I like hard shanked Gaynors when I’m having sex on my toes since then I don’t have to worry about proper technique and can put my weight on my heels and enjoy being made love to and concentrate on timing my orgasm with my partner’s which is always special being hurled into ecstasy simultaneously. But all that changed, at least while I’m Jenna and recently when I’ve gone clubbing with Brad while dressed in her things. When I tried on her Bloch Alphas I found that I love how they fit and with the ¾ outsole how well they display my high arches! I do just a tiny glamour charm – it’s easy to do with today’s cosmetics - so to him my face and body look and feel and my voice sounds exactly like Jenna’s. When I do that he is in my power and I can do anything I want with him or to him.

His penis is massive! It's wonderfully hard and dripping pre-ejaculate when I finish stripping down to my pointes and plug. He is so ready to take me!  I let him back me against the barre, remove my sports plug and slip it into my mouth as I fondle his testicles all snugged tight against his pubic bone with one hand and caress his nipples with the other while I suck my own secretions off my sports plug before I turn, to face the barre, go on pointe in second position, bend over and grip the barre with both hands and band over and relax my pelvic muscles as much as possible while on my toes so he can enter me. Jenna was one of the few classical dancers who had started wearing plugs to intensify male interest (she was fitted at Gepettos, I checked, and she bought it 6 months before she was killed) so I wonder how faithful Jenna may have been. But I’m certainly not going to mention that to Brad. I’m using my own sports plug as each is custom made to fit the wearer’s pelvic anatomy. Sucking on my sports plug muffles my screams if he rams my cervix tip to tip.

Bloch Alpha pointes for ballet-sex: I’ve written about this before but it bears repeating as there are readers of this blog who try to imitate my use of footwear, often to their sorrow after injuring themselves. Wearing Bloch Alpha pointes for ballet-sex should not be attempted by inexperienced women. Alpha pointes are for women very experienced in pointework advanced pre-professional students or at the professional level and then only by ones with very strong feet. Brad so wants me to wear her shoes when I’m on my toes while we make love, I was skeptical, but I’m glad I agreed to try as I love wearing her shoes! She had almost finished preparing a new order of shoes with ribbons and elastics so she has almost two dozen pairs. Many have already been broken in and are ready to go.

She had lost her baby weight and regained her stamina, I can tell from the level of her Chi, so she was planning a return to performing in the near future when she died though from her aura I can tell she hadn’t told Brad she was returning to performing professionally again. I’m so entheuastic about the Alpha style I’m going to selectively put some of my wards and women escort trainees in Alphas to increase the difficulty of their training. Both Bea and Willow have Giselle feet and strong arches and Bea could use the additional challenge so I’m going to introduce both of them to the Alpha style which I think they will like.

Channeling a ghost: I wear the same scents she wore; vanilla, Chanel #5 and Shalimar. I use the heavy spicy scent sparingly mixed with my fertile musk and dab it on my pulse points a combination that ensnares men from the slightest whiff.  Her tights and leotards fit me perfectly and she had quite a few thong-back leos for practice and to play in w/o tights or with tights over her TB leo for quick access just like I do! It is scary how seemingly alike we are! It’s as though she has gone away for the weekend and I’m just taking her place temporarily. Thought of like that everything seems almost normal for a new white hot infatuation. Over time however while the intensity of Brad’s obsession has only increased my need to test his stamina and exhaust him while I’m channeling Jenna has become troubling.

When we’re alone at his place he has me dress in her clothes. Often he wants me barelegged in a thong back long sleeve turtleneck leotard and Alpha pointes as he conducts my therapy session. In her clothes and with her Milex inserted I can feel her presence guiding me and telling me the little things she did that enchanted him so, like forcing her tongue under his foreskin to caress his glans before he becomes aroused and massively erect. He is so into that fantasy when I’m kneeling between his legs with my tongue sheathed by his foreskin as I gently caress his testicles! I’m sure that my being a ballet dancer as well as a sexuality expert was why he approached me to work with him in his study of hypersexuality. He was taught by the Psychiatrist I helped years ago when he was studying habitual sexual offenders and I’m certain my name and contribution to that study came up.  

Even at my age I can easily pass for being in my very early 30s so physically there is very little difference between the in-shape 27 y/o in the photos and me as an in-shape and very well preserved 43 y/o classical ballet dancer. Except that I’m much tighter than she ever was! I was thrilled to hear that! I don’t think he intended to tell me, but it sort of slipped out between gasps the first time I ripple gripped him. When we first met I immediately sensed he was hoping for an intimate relationship as well as an assistant since he kept telling me how much I look like her. I know I’m repeating myself, but he just tells me that over and over! He says he knows he can’t bring her back, but wants so badly to relive some of their most intense times together. However, there is a much darker side to Brad’s fantasy with me being Jenna.

Jenna as a Succubus: From Wikipedia: “A succubus is a female demon or supernatural entity in folklore (traced back to medieval legend) that appears in dreams and takes the form of a human woman in order to seduce men, usually through sexual activity. The male counterpart is the incubus. Religious traditions hold that repeated sexual activity with a succubus may result in the deterioration of health or even death.

In modern fictional representations, a succubus may or may not appear in dreams and is often depicted as a highly attractive seductress or enchantress; whereas, in the past, succubi were generally depicted as frightening and demonic.”

The sex is so intense for us both that in the last few days, as I’ve spent more time as Jenna, I’ve begun to see signs of him physically weakening. He is now on Cialis and topical testosterone, which are helping his stamina to some extent. I’m beginning to think Jenna ghost is not as benign as either of us once thought because when I’m channeling her I’m insatiable! Not that I mind for myself as I’m enjoying the experience. But when I’ve drained Brad and know I should let him rest her control over my libido has me keep going sucking out all his fluids and keeping him erect for hours at a time until he is bordering on Priapism except that I’m continuously stimulating him and his penis is so sore, but neither of us want to stop. When I’m, or is it Jenna who is eventually sated Jenna aura fades and Brad will collapse and fall into a deep sleep of twelve to sixteen hours, which has played havoc his practice of psychiatry.

 

 

 

Demons and sex

An Incubus with his sleeping victim



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!

Fertility check!

Encased in black rubber, could this be where the myth of my being a winged succubus began?

Succubus or diver? During my time away my reputation as a succubus didn’t decrease to any appreciable extent, but it is morphing. Since I’ve been back and wearing my fitted black latex dive skin, helmet and mask and Mistral twin hose reg word is getting back to me that some of the Latino and Bosnian women in housekeeping think I’m Satan herself. I’m not sure how they came to that conclusion as they rarely see me dressed in my black latex dive gear and I always try to be nice to housekeeping when I’m dealing with them because they can help make or break the reputation of a casino/hotel. I also stay away from their men though several Bosnian men have made passes. I try to stay away from Bosnian men as they seem to view women as personal property. Not that I wouldn’t enjoy draining Bosnian semen, but I’m not anyone’s possession so there is no point in becoming involved in that sort of relationship, especially since there are so many other men to choose from.

My fertility: We are all so different! Until a few weeks ago there was no doubt in my mind that I was very fertile. However, during an encounter with a relatively inexperienced stallion, he had performance problems – Pirate had asked me to take him for a test drive and he failed – and in his frustration he made some very unprofessional remarks about me being infertile because of the number of men I had been with. I thought given the profession he was trying to get started in that was a particularly inappropriate thing to say to a woman, especially to one who can affect his career. I tried to hide how much his questioning my fertility hurt me and I think I was successful, but his comments got me to thinking. At 38 after being sexually active for more than 24 years and fucking almost any man I’ve ever wanted (except my father of course) as well as dolphins, a Great Dane and a tiger I really didn’t know for sure that my reproductive tract was fully functional and that my eggs were of good quality and that bothered me. That bothered me a lot!

Fertility tests: Part of who I am is the psychological need to risk pregnancy each time I have sex with a man and I like sex with men with very high sperm counts. So my sudden uncertainty about my fertility really depressed me. To resolve the question I decided to have a series of tests that would determine how fertile I really am. So I had blood tests for luteinizing hormone (LH) Follicle Stimulating Hormone (FSH) and a Hysterosalpingogram (HSG) to check that my fallopian tubes were functioning correctly. I also went through an egg donation regimen to test the quality of my eggs. After I had the blood drawn for the LH and FHS tests I began the egg donation process.

Egg harvesting: For egg donation I was given daily FHS injections to stimulate my ovaries to produce several eggs and was monitored by ultrasound to see when the follicles were ripe. That process took about twelve days and I was able to retain my normal menstrual cycle. If I was going to be a donor where my eggs would be used for IVF and would be inseminated and implanted in another woman I should have avoided sexual activity. However, since the reason for the test was to see if I could get preggers I saw no reason to abstain and didn’t change my level of sexual activity at all. I used an Oves cap of course, but felt quite safe and exceptionally sexually needy because of the FSH injections. When the ultrasound images showed my eggs were ripe I was sedated and the doctor using ultrasound images guided a thin needle through my vagina to harvest the eggs. The procedure is called ‘minimally invasive’ and I suppose that’s true because there is no incision, but it really is unpleasant. I was advised to take it easy for the next several days but I continued my usual schedule and with ibuprofen I managed to feel almost normal.

The good news: The good news is that my LH and FSH levels were normal, my HSG tests showed my fallopian tubes are clear and my In Vitro specialist said my eggs are ‘of a quality normally associated with a woman in her late 20s’! I was so pleased! As an added test I had five of my eggs fertilized with Pirate’s sperm. Yes, I have frozen sample of many of my stallion’s sperm just in case a need arises. It was worth using one of Pirate’s donations to test my fertility. And I was delighted when all five eggs were successfully fertilized. The embryos are now in the Cryobank with all my sperm samples. My self esteem which was badly shaken when a sexually frustrated man called my fertility into question is completely restored! Actually, I’m more sexually assertive now – if that’s possible - because I’m absolutely certain that I am extremely fertile each cycle and loving it!

My new therapist

A Psychiatrist's couch for shoe fetishists

My new therapist: For the past several months I have been seeing a new therapist. A man this time as I felt I needed the perspective of a male since my hunger for men has increased. He specializes in the psychology of sexual need and came highly recommended as being highly successful with some very complex sexual disorders. I have been told many of his clients are severely sexually repressed so I think he was happy to have me to help ‘balance’ his patient disorder mix. I started out by seducing him. From past experience with male psychiatrists I’d say his defenses were pretty strong as he managed to withstand my allure for a full three sessions before I mind-fucked him and left him wanting me. But I had turned up the heat slowly to let him get used to the feeling before he found himself inextricably entangled in my web. At our fourth session I let him think it was his idea when he took me on the huge leather couch in his office. After that session we became brutally honest with one another. The first thing I did once he became enraptured with me was to renegotiate his fee. I was paying $550 per hour for each session which, while not excessive, I’d rather not pay. So I bartered sex lessons for therapy. I’m teaching him to be a far, far better lover and he is trying to get me to understand (but not fight) my need to sexually dominate almost every man I meet. He thinks my sexual aggression is rooted in my being shunned by my father and my inability to get him to have sex with me. Returning readers may remember that my mother’s husband was not my biological father. My biological father was my mother’s uncle, whose mining fortune passed down to me. Life is complicated, but the up-side of that relationship is that it would have prevented my having sex with my mother’s husband from being incest.

My new therapist, David, was amazed that I have been able to so effectively compartmentalize my feelings so that I can enjoy the physical and mental ecstasy of sex with a man w/o becoming emotionally attached to him. Not that I can’t be gentle, sweet and kind while with him, but just not hormonally addicted to him bound by the flood of oxytocin that sex releases into my bloodstream. What David says I am addicted to is the adrenaline high of physically dangerous sex. Things like breath control to intensify the ecstasy of an orgasm, or having sex beneath a moving train. (I learned to do that under coal trains in South-West Virginia.) Or sex with Caesar, my male tiger. Or dive-sex with a man who shuts off my air where his job is to fuck me while preventing me from turning it back on.

For that last scenario I have (at least for now) run out of men who are willing to have dive-sex with me. You would think a man weighing twice what I do and with much greater upper body strength would have no problem subduing me but even though I have offered a huge amount to any man who could subdue me long enough to bring me to the surface unconscious after we had dive-sex, not one of my seven partners for the project has been successful. In the nine attempts to win the prize only two of them have tried twice, the rest quit while hospitalized while I’ve come away with only a minor sprain and some bruises.

Adrenaline addiction: I do so love the thrill of having amazingly virile males fill me with sperm, their biological drives going full out attempting to pass on their DNA by creating a new life in my belly. Of course it’s possible that I could have a contraceptive failure especially since I try to take as many men as possible when I’m fertile, like today when I’m CD11 my estrogen is peaking and my cervix is ripe and draining fertile cervical fluid. But there are other options if my Oves cap fails, like Plan-B and Mifeprex if should I start producing hCG, the pregnancy hormone. But one of the things that curls my toes is the possibility of needing that back-up, the possibility that a man could actually get to me intimately enough for his sperm to fertilize my egg. The risk of being impregnated and being starved for oxygen during orgasm are two of the greatest thrills and adrenaline producers for me. David thinks I have a death wish. He thinks I’m taking out my frustrations with my ‘father’ (mother’s husband) for not having sex with me by attempting to bend every man I meet to my will. If so I’ve been marvelously successful at it so far. But then I was given a beautiful body and a devious mind and not many men object to having a pretty woman wanting them to take her to bed.

After the first few times I had sex with David, while we were in afterglow still laying on that huge leather couch in his soundproof office, I told him I really enjoyed sex with him and I’d never had a single thought about him being a surrogate for my ‘father’. He smiled, stroked my hair which was loose and framing my face and told me again, as he had many times before, that my trauma with my father shunning me is buried deep in my subconscious and is manifesting itself as an irrepressible need to conqueror attractive males to prove to myself I was capable of having any man I desired, except my father of course who started the whole thing and has been dead for years. He said that since my father is dead there can be no simple closure to my need and that I should be grateful that my problem is not more destructive than it is and that it should be manageable. I was disappointed in that bit of wisdom because I’d been managing my ‘problem’ successfully for more than 20 years! The only aspect of my hyper-sexuality of real concern to me is the possibility of getting an incurable STI, but I’m very careful about that. Not even accidentally being killed during an intense sexual encounter, though that possibility is a driver for massive infusion of adrenaline which I crave, would be all that bad since I would be totally involved with having sex with a man when it happened.

David hasn’t called me a Nymphomaniac, but he talks about my “insatiable need for men” and says I’m an “aggressive sexual predator”. Or perhaps that’s just a “sexual predator” because I wouldn’t be much of a predator unless I was aggressive, right? I rather think of myself as being very assertive rather than aggressive, but when I grab a man by the balls and squeeze while he’s still wearing trousers, I suppose that could be considered aggressive. I’ve only done that (in public) on one occasion when the guy wasn’t taking me seriously but that instance has become a viral legend about me now so guys tend to stand sideways when we are talking face to face. Sigh! I did ask David about the rumors that I’m a succubus and if I should try to combat them. He thinks I should just carry on as I always have and that people will eventually get tired of talking and move on to something else. I’m trying to do that and really thought I’d be able to ignore the talk but that hasn’t happened, at least not yet. I think succubus is a bit too strong a term, but I don’t deny that I have strong appetites. The buzz does give me a cachet that other women in my circle don't have which I’ve found to be useful in my line of work, getting men to do what I want both as a performer and in the business world. But women rarely introduce me to their boyfriends or husbands any more.

What am I?

A male fantasy image of a Succubus

A succubus encounter: As I have moved into my late 30s I’ve found I’m learning more about my body and some of my skills are becoming far more highly developed. Having been very sexually active since I was 14 I thought, until fairly recently, that I knew just about all there was to know about my body and how I react to men of various types, sizes and personalities. I was wrong. Since I turned 38 in February I have learned there was another aspect in my mental makeup that I hadn’t known was there. I have always been a ‘sensitive’ to the extent that I can communicate (on a very basic level) with spirits if I have something of theirs to use as a talisman to call them or if they come to me. And that sensitivity has on balance been a positive thing since I can ‘talk’ with Taryn’s mom from time to time to get advice about how she would want important choices presented to Taryn. However, only in the past few months have I become able to seemingly drain men of a great deal of their energy during sex.

There has always been an aspect of that during normal sexual intercourse when a man spends himself planting his seed in me. But this, while the same, is very different. I have actually put three very healthy men in their late 20s in the hospital recently because they suffered exhaustion and dehydration after spending the night with me. After the third of those encounters a rumor started that I am a succubus. I’ll have to admit I enjoy repeated acts of penetrative sex with a strong good looking man and I’ll also admit that I do try to exhaust my lovers while testing their stamina. But I don’t think I’m an evil spirit, I don’t have wings and I don’t intentionally try to fuck them to death. Well, not usually. Most of the illustrations of succubi depict them as being beautiful and with wings but I think that is male fantasy. To the extent that there are succubi walking the streets of Vegas none of us have wings, fangs or horns, just an unquenchably need to draw a man’s life force from him during sex. Shedding a bit of a man’s life force happens naturally when a man reaches orgasm even if he is masturbating. Then the energy is burnt up or released into the atmosphere surrounding him but if it occurs while he is unprotected (bareback) in a female partner she can absorb the energy if she is sensitive and wired that way. A condom cuts way down on the transfer of a man’s life force to his female partner so it’s thought that having his penis bathed in our natural intimate lubrication fluids acts to conduct the paranormal mental energy into our bodies. That’s one explanation of why women have such a feeling of wellbeing after an unprotected man ejaculates inside us even if we haven’t reached orgasm ourselves.

I don’t think the rumor about me being a succubus would have started if the problems with the three guys hadn’t all come within a two week period and all three hadn’t been known for their stamina and had impeccable reputations as horn-dogs. After I dropped all three the problem couldn’t have been with them, right? “There’s something wrong with Jill! She’s wet, tight, deep, and insatiable and an unbelievable fuck so she’s a demon!” Right? Perhaps I was enjoying myself a bit too much. I am able to focus a mans interest toward doing what I want him to do so maybe I was mind-fucking them a bit, but we were having so much fun and they felt so good moving in and out of me as I watched. And honestly, I do enjoy feeding on male energy as a man pumps it into me during sex!

Vital signs monitor: I’d hate to think I’d have to hook up my lovers to monitor their vital signs before they have sex with me. Talk about a turn-off! But, so far the rumor mill seems to have sparked more interest in bedding me. The question being asked at bars, auto shops, barber shops and sporting events keeps getting back to me: “How can a 5’2” 100 lb woman lay three professional horn-dogs low?” They all come around to the idea that “If I could ever get into her pants I’d show her who’s boss and fuck her brains out.” Which of course is testosterone or alcohol or both talking. Three of the best guys in Vegas tried and failed, though it wasn’t a test, at least intentionally on my part, so it’s unlikely a pick-up team of good ole boys from a local sports bar would be able to get to me, but you never know. Meanwhile the rumor that I’m a succubus keeps getting stronger. I’m glad I’ll be traveling for the next week.