Will the mystery of the man pursued by sex-hungry succubi at the end of the 1990s ever be solved?
The internet was a very different place once, prior to the likes of Myspace, Facebook and the rest of the social media pack. If we’re jaded now, then twenty years ago it was a different picture altogether. And, one of my favourite websites from my earliest forays into the internet still stands out in my memory as delightfully, irrepressibly batshit insane.
I can’t remember how in the hell I found it, but I’m glad that I did. The Succubus Hunter website was the work of an anonymous man who posted only under the initial ‘T’. his mission was to warn the world that there were fiendish succubi out there, preying on men, and essentially shagging them to death – a fate he described in some considerable detail. His stated purpose for keeping the site was that he needed help; he was in hiding, and his supplies were running low. Having apparently been held captive by a succubus himself, T’s escape from sex slavery had only made the succubi angry; meanwhile, T was keen on documenting their existence with photographs and updating fairly regularly with details of his fight in his blog posts. Although he couldn’t see them, he knew they were coming for him. A hive of paranoia, these blog posts ended abruptly in April 2001, with this disturbing message:
I need advice. What should I do? Should I go back to Appleton once more? Should I dare to try to find and free my Father from the gruelling enslavement of forced, continual sex? Should I just keep running and not worry about anyone else (I do have enough problems of my own)? Should I just give myself up to the succubi, get laid, and die? Help.
You didn’t have to dig particularly deep to discover that T was a repressed Christian, whose sexual urges had sent him a little way round the twist; I say this, because I visited the site many times, and could never say with any certainty if it was a parody. That is what makes it so entertaining. T veered from descriptions of his sexual fantasies to delusional outbursts about women trying to steal his dong. Alongside a fellow succubus hunter going by the name Daniel the Younger, T claimed at one point that he was on the run throughout America from scores of demon women who kept finding him – even when he was hiding out in the Mojave Desert, as he said he was at one point. But then, oh then, it turned out that Daniel, his pal, was in fact an incubus, and was in on the plot all along. Events took an even darker turn when one of the succubi herself commandeered T’s blog:
So you see, T, you’re doomed. Sooner or later, you’re going to give yourself up to us, and I’ll have your penis. In fact, you know what? I want you to see my collection, so you can imagine how good yours would look as a part of it. Having your computer, T, I now have the codes to put items directly on your site. How about if I just post a photograph of a small part of my collection on your photographs page? Go ahead (pun intended) I dare you to take a look, T, and see the future of your dick.
Miranda, succubus par excellence <email@example.com>
True to her word, Miranda made a charming collage of willies and tacked it onto the photos page. Penis theft was a significant concern. But that wasn’t all: T’s mother was soon posting to the site about her missing son, T was concerned that ‘they’ were trying to turn his own mother into a succubus, and seduce his father to boot – hence his panic in his last post. There really was never a dull moment.
Watching all of this unfolding in real-time was a source of joy. The Sad Tale of Billy Martin’s Penis, comedy gold. But perhaps best of all was the message-board (remember them?) where the bemused early shitposters of the world wide web could join in the good fight. T regularly engaged with his readers there, never understanding that Hugh Jarse was a comedy name as he earnestly conversed with his new friend, Hugh. The sad thing is, the shitposters persevered with the message board long after T was presumably killed by sex some time in Spring ’01. There was a real sense of community back then, as people assembled daily to take the piss; I’d even say folks missed T, and still posted regularly until December of that year, wondering aloud what had happened to him.
So where did T go? Having presumably forked out for the .com address and snapped up a whole host of email addresses for various identities (unless of course, he was telling the truth) the website was archived in 2002. We will never know if T was killed, or found the help he kept asking for, or indeed who he was. He’s probably on Facebook now, a place which just doesn’t lend itself to paranoid delusions of being pursued by hot, supernatural women who collect penises. The past is a different country; they do things differently there.
You can, if you wish to share in my nostalgia, continue to enjoy Succubus Hunter via Wayback Machine: http://web.archive.org/. I was genuinely pleased to see it again.
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