This is a fictional story told by Max J. Clayton.

We, Incubi and Succubi are others, there’s no fucking way around it. If we came out…fuuuuuuuuck.

Looking at how most people want everyone to be like them, and we aren’t.  We’re a genetic mutation. 

From what I get, no one really knows where it came from, and why we exist as we do. It sucks ass that I never can have a normal life.

Oh well.

Done with bitching, what else do I need to write about it in this journal?

It’s not bitching, it’s my life.

I’m one in ten. To find another 1 in ten is a as fucked as gets. So many who don’t know what they are, and fuck that if anyone thinks I’m going to be the one to tell them.

“Yo, you get you feed on sex and are an Incubi/Succubi?”

“Fuck off crazy man.”

I’ve had the experience too many times.