Hey all. My name's Sam Vernel. I need to talk about something. Call it an entry #1, an introduction, whatever. I live in what I think is my mom's house, but I'm not quite sure. Any pictures you would expect to be there are missing, any notebooks you would think I had aren't there. It feels like any evidence someone grew up here vanished. This would be a nonissue, if it weren't for the fact I cannot remember anything about myself except my name.

I'm feeling very frustrated. Over the last few days, I've been trying to remember anything about who I am, where I am, anything. I've seen a couple of things about this place, and it's very weird. I'll try and summarize what I've seen the best I can.

• The doors outside are more than locked. I can't get them to budge no matter what I do. There is an attic and a basement, both of which have doors that can be budged, but I haven't managed to open them yet.

• I haven't confirmed whether or not this is true, but I'm pretty sure the windows are indestructible. I tried chucking a printer at it, but I only ended up with a broken printer and no progress.

• Whenever I eat food, it seems to come back the next day. I'm tempted to use my laptop as a makeshift security camera, but I don't want my only connection to the outside world damaged. I also never seem to run out of hot water, no matter what I do. I haven't run it for longer than an hour, so it could be finite, but somehow I doubt it.

It's honestly a very nice place. It has a very spacious living room with a TV, a kitchen with everything I could try and cook with, a dining room with six chairs and a long table. What could possibly be my problem with it?

Her.

I don't actually know who - or even what - she is. My leading guess is that she's the one keeping me here. The only thing I really know about her is her gender. Well, that, and how her boobs look really good on her figure. And how big her thighs and ass are, giving her an hourglass figure. How good her tits would feel pressed up against my back. How it would feel to tongue her out until she squirts her juices on my face. How it would feellllllllll

This is the third time I've tried to write this blog post, and every time I get to this section, this is the end result. The other two blog posts failed because I didn't want to include this right away, but I think this is a sign I have to.

I have an irresistible urge to start masturbating whenever I see her, and whenever I think about her and my line of thought gets too carried away, I'll be so horny for so long that it's almost unbearable.

I think she might be a succubus, or a siren, or something similar. I'm not exactly sure, but I don't have any other ideas. The only time she appears is at night.

I will try my best to describe the first time I encountered her. It might be difficult to do so without having to take a break, but I'll try.

It was my first night here, and I was trying to shake off the weird feelings that I had when I came to and realized I knew nothing about myself. I was on the brink of sleep, when I heard something that made me alert immediately, knowing I wasn't alone in the house. It was a moan.

I quietly made myself out of the master bedroom I had been residing in and moved down the hallway a little bit before I heard it again, to my left. I opened the door just a crack, just so I could see what was on the other side. In some distant corner of my mind I knew she wasn't here in any way before, as I had searched the house, but I needed some form of contact so I knew I was still sane.

What I saw will, I think, always stay with me.

She was on the bed, on all fours, with her left hand gliding across her clit at inhumane speed, and her bubble-butt jiggling right over her right hand, pistoning three fingers in and out of her dripping wet cunt. Her tits, perfect G-cup hemispheres, were dangling from her thin, tight frame, with tiny nipples to cap them off.

Immediately, I thrust my hand past all layers of clothing and started masturbating furiously. This was easily the most erotic sight I had ever seen, even if it was the only one I had seen since I woke up, and it was all too much for me. My inhibitions were shattered, my mind was clouded with nothing but absolute desire and lust. I came so fast, and hard, and long, with an audible moan.

She spotted me, of course, but all she did was grin back at me oh so sexily, and flip herself over. I saw her hands stop, and I was worried she was going to punish me (whatever that entailed), but instead I saw something that proved to me that she wasn't human.

She leaned forward and proceeded to start tonguing out her soaking cunt as she lubed up a dildo I hadn't noticed (I'd say around 6 inches? It was hard to tell) and shoved it into her asshole. And she never broke eye contact with me. I came harder than before, and I just kept going.

I lost count as to how many times I had came that night, but it was somewhere around 20-30. Near the end, on my soon-to-be last orgasm, I noticed her go cross-eyed. She was about to cum. She screamed out into the room, and I came harder than I had that entire night, causing me to black out. I woke up in a heap on the floor the next morning, completely spent, aching.

This happens to me every night, though I can never remember those encounters. I start to head to sleep, and I wake up on the floor outside of that room. I believe she's the reason my memories are gone, and the reason the food is stocked, but most importantly, she wants me to remember that night. I don't know why. What does she stand to gain from this?

I'll keep you posted. I don't know how to proceed from here, but I am more than willing to answer questions provided to me. This might be my one outlet to talk to the outside world. I have theories as well, which I can try to clear up in the next post. I'd write more, but it's 10:00, so I think I might head to bed.

Sam Vernel

* Canonically, Sam is a straight female. Other genders and such can be incorporated in other branches of this story.