Pictured: the author. It is left to the reader to determine which figure represents him best.
On freaks, loneliness, and invisible girlfriends.
In 2013, 4chan was no longer the sole wellspring of internet memes, nor yet the source of Gamergate and, thus, the Trump campaign and the long 2016. Its position as the beating heart of the internet had been slowly eroded by websites like YouTube, Tumblr, Twitter, and, of course, Reddit. A classmate of mine, who shall go unnamed, explained the difference between the two internet homepages in 2011, at 15, saying: “Reddit is where I go to be intellectual and sophisticated; 4chan is where I go to be a creepy uncle.” I didn’t ask for clarity—we were sitting in a hotel lobby on a school trip to DC, dressed in sportcoats and khakis, and it didn’t really feel like the right place to ask him to go deeper. He probably just meant 4chan was his favorite place to find incest porn, which is still common on the site but at that point had just begun bleeding out into the wider universe of pornography. Said classmate is now stupid rich, working in private equity in Manhattan, and married. Happily, I assume.
He meant /b/, of course, as most people do when they say “4chan”, but today we’ll be talking about /x/. /x/ is a blue board, which in 4chan parlance means sexual imagery is forbidden. Not that the board is worksafe, mind you—if you’re ever caught browsing /x/ at work you are probably going to be fired, and probably deserve it—but explicit sexual imagery will get you banned.
Notice I said explicit sexual imagery, not pornography. Photo- or videographic pornography will get you banned but old-school, Kama-Sutra, writing-about-sex-style porn? That’s just fine on /x/.
Enter Lesaile. On Wednesday, April 13th, 2013, just after midnight UTC, a user with the name Lesaile made a post on /x/ using a tripcode, a unique identifier that would prove further posts made under that code were made by that same person—specifically he was given the tripcode !V1rjn1X5nw, which, even now, makes me laugh. Featuring an image of the Castlevania character Annette titled, appropriately, annette-succubus.jpg, the pseudonymous subject of this piece wrote:
Tomorrow is the new moon, /x/. You ready?
Codex Succubi, Second Edition:
Followed by a Google Docs link which now requires permission to access, permission which has not been granted to any of the burner Gmail accounts I’ve used since I began to request access earlier this year. The post received 326 replies, overtaking the 300 reply limit before the thread died sometime after 8AM UTC the next day. For context, this would be a ridiculously short-lived thread today; after its downtime in 2025, 4chan’s threads last a lot longer due to lower traffic. The latest of its descendants as of the time of writing, /succgen/ 644, lasted five days, which is still fairly fast, given the eternal popularity of summoning a willing sex demon to suck your soul away.
Obviously, this was not the first time Lesaile had posted on /x/, this being the second edition of his Codex. People claiming to be Lesaile had confessed the entire project was a hoax, a work of fiction spun up to get a rise out of /x/’s credulous public, so Lesaile had to claim a name in order to maintain kayfabe. After this post, Lesaile posted only about 20 times using the tripcode, the final time being in 2018, claiming to be working on a third edition of the Codex, an edition that is sadly still forthcoming.
The first edition of the Codex survives in .jpg form, and is relatively threadbare at six black pages with white Times New Roman text. These contain an ingredient list, a ritual, a contract, and a list of succubi with erotic roleplay-like descriptions, including, of course, relative breast size and vaginal tightness ratings, along with fetish details I won’t get into right now. The last three pages, however, are where things start to get interesting, and the hidden world of the Codex is revealed in its FAQs. Some examples:
“Can women summon succubi?” It is ridiculous on its face to claim this is a frequently asked question, of course. The people who want to summon succubi have obviously never spoken to a woman before, and everyone knows there are no women on 4chan. His answer? Yes, in fact, he was taught how to summon succubi by a woman. Note that for later.
“Will I go to Hell?” If you’re unfamiliar with /x/, you might be surprised by how many posters there at least claim to care about the state of their immortal soul in the Abrahamic sense, so this question reveals, if nothing else, that Lesaile knows his audience. He reveals that succubi are in fact akin to fairies, sent by God to “regulate” mankind’s sexual urges. Controversial.
“Why do succubi collect my semen in that weird, flexible vase?”
Wait, what?
All will be made clear in time, dear reader.
Lesaile’s worldbuilding slowly reveals itself in the first edition Codex. It’s a compilation of posts Lesaile had made on the /x/ board before, which is obvious because the people interacting on this oldest tripcoded thread seem to be familiar with his work. Unfortunately, nothing beyond memory remains, since the earliest archived post on 4plebs, which boasts the oldest /x/ archive after several others went under, only goes back to April 1st, 2013.
Why do we care about bad porn some freak weirdo made up on 4chan? What does it prove other than the obvious: that loner freaks hate women, resent women for spurning their (the loner freaks’) antisocial advances, if they could ever find it within themselves to make them, and would rather pretend to summon demons—sorry, sexual nature spirits—than actually talk to women?
I care because while the first version of the Codex Succubi seems to have landed with the impact of a meatball accidentally knocked from a plate onto a vinyl tablecloth, Lesaile took what he learned in the six-page edition and expanded it to 42 pages in the second, dramatically increasing its splatter size. This version of the book is listed on GoodReads, at the time of writing, with one five-star review, one person marked as currently reading, and five anonymous weirdos from whose profile pictures I cannot divine any information as have it on their TBR lists. The Amazon link, unfortunately, just leads to a search for Codex Succubi, and doesn’t yield any fruitful results.
This is what makes the Codex Succubi unique: Lesaile never cashed in. He posted the document for free on /x/, where it is still listed twelve years later (!) in .pdf form on the /succgen/ library, though they disavow it for reasons we’ll get into. In a world where porn authors have Patreons—more power to them, it’s rough out there for a writer—and romance novelists are getting paid millions, the unmonetization of this document, relative to the Codex Succubi’s impact on its little world of freaks, is refreshing.
Codex Succubi ~The Flowers of Heaven~ (2nd Ed.) is a broken little book of weirdo shit, but I wouldn’t call it outsider art. It hails from just the beginning of the time when everyone thought they could create something special, before anyone knew how to make money off of their fetish. It paints a portrait of a fabulist freak I find fascinating. And, finally, it captivated its audience because in an environment full of people making shit up and basing it on ancient occult practice, it bothered to tell a story. Even if that story sucked, it still made it exponentially more fun to read than every other occult book I’ve ever read.
Let’s dive in, shall we?
The /succgen/ library, hosted on pastebin, has resources based in many different practices of modern magic. Left, right, middle, whichever hand-path you prefer, you can summon invisible spirits to suck you off. The Codex Succubi, subtitled “The Flowers of Heaven”, by Brandon & Danielle Lesaile, is listed as an unlabeled docpub link. It’s almost a footnote in the library, something they’re forced to keep but don’t want to claim. Clicking the link opens a web PDF reader, and you’re greeted by a title page with the plain formatting of a downloaded Google Doc. This title page contains the information listed above—title, subtitle, authors’ names—with very basic flower decorations at the top and bottom that continue in the table of contents on the next page but after that are only used above chapter headers.
Immediately, the title page raises a question that demands an answer: who the fuck is Danielle? A document about summoning invisible girlfriends to suck you off is obviously going to be written by a Brandon. A woman’s name comes as a genuine shock.
The author—and it is my professional opinion that, quelle surprise, Danielle does not exist and this document only has one author—does not leave you wondering for long. Brandon’s introduction is three pages long. Namedropping Christian emo band Anberlin’s seminal album Cities as his depression anthem, it begins by describing how much the regimentation of college sucked after his homeschooled, freedom-filled upbringing. Then, a beautiful woman, Danielle, shows up and agrees with him, explaining that she would shoot up the school if she could.
After a few weeks of fast friendship, Danielle introduces Brandon to ritualized sex magic with no announcement, simply showing up at his dorm room with the ingredients to summon a succubus and an instruction manual explaining that he was to masturbate in front of her. In essentially the only relatable moment in the entire book, he’s shocked, shocked! That a beautiful woman wants to see him naked. He immediately squanders that goodwill by describing their mutual masturbation session in one sentence that contains the word “awkwardly” seven different times in a failed attempt to develop a charming writing style.
Once the masturbation ritual is complete, Danielle gets the succubus to show herself to Brandon for just a moment before having invisible sex with her (don’t worry, Danielle is visible) while Brandon watches and, predictably, masturbates again, refractory period be damned. Brandon ends his introductory letter by explaining that was the night that started it all, and that he has since begun to see the Big Picture (capitalization his).
Danielle’s introduction is three paragraphs long. She explains that her mother is a Kabbalistic scholar who, while studying in Israel in the 70s, made friends with an Israeli woman who taught her the secret ways of succubus sex magic, which she then introduced to her daughter at the ripe old age of fourteen.
Finally, there’s a semi-anonymized list of acknowledgements, thanking “Andrew, Zoey, R.S., Bethany, Will, Jual, Jers, Victoria, Krys, and Casey” for their “helpful feedback, cheerful criticism, and intriguing questions”.
Seven pages in, and there are already a lot of questions. First things first: the Sandy Hook school shooting was in late 2012. So, while the story being told takes place in 2009, in the interim between fall 2009 and spring 2013 (coincidentally, probably the author’s college term), school shootings went from an edgy, unfunny joke to something it is basically illegal to joke about. 4chan is anonymous, of course, so there were almost no legal repercussions to posting anything on there in 2013—though there are, of course, rumors the forum is a Fed front post-2025 shutdown, as there have been essentially since the site started banning child pornography to cooperate with American legislation that would otherwise have shut it down.
That aside, we must again ask, who is Danielle? She is absent from the first edition of the Codex, other than as a brief mention in an FAQ. Even more baffling, she is listed as a co-author, Brandon’s partner-in-sex-magic, but is never again present after she signs off in the intro, other than to claim she’s been summoning succubi for eleven years in the FAQ section. Which, wait a second, let’s do the math on that. If she’s been doing this since she was fourteen, that would make her 25 at the time of writing, which is three years after they met; this would make her 22 when she met Brandon, even though it’s implied she can’t buy liquor, because she had to “brew” (his words, not mine) her own wine for the ritual.
I’m not poking plot holes in poorly plotted porn for no reason. Obviously, Danielle doesn’t exist. Whoever Lesaile is, this woman, this manic pixie sex magician, is a figment of his imagination. You would think, however, he being king of this imaginary castle, that she would graduate to being girlfriend at some point in the story. You would be wrong. In the opening thread for the second edition, when asked why he doesn’t just have sex with the human woman who taught him sex magic, clearly loves him, and lets him see her naked, he says they’re more like brother and sister.
Not that incest is a deal-breaker for Lesaile, but we’ll get to that.
For now, let’s just stick to this point for just one more moment. Lesaile’s dream woman is bisexual, gorgeous, blonde, tan, athletic, disaffected, and into sex magic. Possibly even Jewish. She loves to share her lovers, maybe to a fault, since said penchant for sharing is implied to extend to her mother. And this woman, who will have sex with the sex demons sexual nature spirits that have been abusing her on a monthly schedule since she was 14, will not have sex with him. His savior from a life of mediocrity is a woman who will fuck invisible monsters over him. In his wildest dreams, in the fulness of his imagination, Lesaile cannot imagine a willing, human partner.
It’s almost sad, like a pathetic pre-boom YA novel, Looking For Alaska or, more accurately, gooner-fied I Am Number Four, boy-aimed YA designed to make loser loners even more unlikeable. Hold that thought, just for five pages, because by then I promise you won’t ever even almost feel bad for this guy again.
We’ll skip over the Kabbalah, the blatant anti-Semitism, the crypto-Zionism—Israel, despite being less than a century old, contains the dark secrets of the magical world, it’s a shining light in the desert, etc., etc.—fuck you, free Palestine, from the river to the sea—and I’ll jealously ignore the fact that he has so many first readers/editors (and I don’t) so we can get on to the boring shit: the worldbuilding.
Boring, that is, unless you’re one of the many freaks and nerds who take issue with this document from an arcane perspective (instead of the many other, much more valid reasons to take umbrage with it). In that case, this is the part you actually care about.
Lesaile clarifies at the beginning of part one of the book, The History of the Succubi, that this is an oral history—no pun intended. Succubi, being immortal with perfect memory, apparently never learned how to read. According to this history, the first succubus was created by God, riverrun past Eve and Adam, to “become to man as a friend, and to the woman, a sister”, implying that He didn’t think Eve would put out. The first one was named Naama, which, in the pre-Babel Adamic language to which Lesaile is privy thanks to the teachings of his invisible mythical sex spirits, means “pleasing”.
The Fall of Man happens, Naama chooses to go into the world with her companions, including a fairy named Tamach whose provenance is not mentioned (what’s a fairy? He never clears that one up, except to say that they are higher on the totem pole than succubi). God tasks the fairy to spread the trees and animals of the garden across the Earth, which had I guess, just been empty rock until then.
The rest of the history is a selective remix of the Old Testament. First come Cain and Abel, then after Cain fails Western culture’s second vibe-check, Eve kicks Adam out because he didn’t save the favorite son. The first man runs to the forest until the first woman forgives him, spending the time with his succubi and making a bunch of baby succubi. Satan gets jealous of Adam dicking down all the time and makes incubi, which corrupt man and make them the villains, the Hams and Nimrods, of the Old Testament. It follows logically, though Lesaile never explicitly says this, that Satan is gay,—which, good for him—and made incubi to dick him down—which, bad for us.
Then Lesaile jumps from the children of Adam to Solomon, from Genesis to 1 Kings, skipping the boring shit: Noah and Moses, plagues and red seas (not a big deal, not the first time that happened), and of course, the dreadful laws handed down directly from God, that explicitly say “don’t have sex with demons, or anybody else, for that matter.”
God gave Solomon wisdom, he learned about the succubi, then started fucking them, along with all his descendants, and they made a bunch of babies, but then the Israelites forgot again because of incubi. Then he skips to the 10th century, when a Frenchman in Morocco hooks up with a succubus and then becomes Pope Sylvester II—who in real life was one of the men who brought the math and philosophy of the Muslim world to Europe, but in this history learned all that from Succubi, because obviously Lesaile believes no white man could ever learn from an Arab. Once Sly becomes scientist/pope, he—you guessed it—makes a bunch of succubus babies, and after he dies the church declares succubi to be demons, again, because of incubi.
That’s the end of the history. He spends a few paragraphs assuring the reader that succubi were given to man by God, that they are not, in fact, demons or energy vampires, like most people on /x/ believe. You don’t care, because you know this isn’t real, but this distinction is very important to the pedantic nerds that practice magic. Hence why, even though the Codex is a very popular contribution to the succubus mythology, people got very annoyed at everyone clamoring about it between 2013 and 2015, when threads discussing the methodology described herein were omnipresent. If asked about it now, the arcane luminaries of /x/ will tell you it’s worthless, whereas their preferred method of summoning sex demons to steal their semen while they sleep actually works.
But we’re not pedantic nerds that practice magic. We’re rational post-postmodern people, and so we can see exactly how weird and batshit insane this history is. First, despite mentioning a pope, there is no mention of Jesus in this history, so the succubi apparently had nothing to do with his whole deal until Pope Sylvester II. This is, honestly, maybe the only part of this whole thing that makes sense; I think Jesus would have thought the succubi were weird.
Obviously Lesaile is not the first to edit Genesis to fit his imagination (looking at you, Cassandra Clare), but he is apparently a fundamentalist, which is what makes it strange. To me, taking one of the foundational myths of Abrahamic faith, a story that seeks to answer fundamental questions like “Where does life come from?”, “Why do I have to toil and suffer in order to live?”, and “Why does my naked body disgust me?” and instead making it only answer the question “Why have I never heard of succubi before?” is the weird part. But I, thankfully, was raised Catholic, and not an Old Testament fundamentalist, so I know that it’s an allegory.
However, if you’re a fundamentalist, as Lesaile seems to be, it is really weird to go “Okay, all that shit in the Bible? That happened, but not exactly like it says in God’s Holy Book.” Lesaile simultaneously believes that the “Israelites” were God’s chosen people and that Hell exists in the Christian sense. That said people were also chosen by succubi, but the evil incubi kept them from their God-given partners.
Which, speaking of incubi, I have some advice for Lesaile from a writer and Dungeons and Dragons nerd: Want to set up a villain? Just say, “It was all the fault of the incubi, sent by Satan to counteract the succubi”! Simply make the incubi the source of all evil. Problem is, he completely skips over Eve’s temptation. We all imagine the snake to be the Devil, Satan, the Adversary, but the text of the Bible just says it’s a snake. Lesaile doesn’t establish the snake as an incubus or even the Devil.
That means the fall of man is still man’s fault. These incubi, which are supposed to be existential threats to man- and succubus-kind, seem like bumbling failures in this history. The Cain and Abel tale wasn’t recast as their doing. They’re blamed for hiding succubi from humanity, corrupting the Israelites away from them, and trying, but not succeeding, in killing Pope Sylvester II. If you’re going to develop a villain, make them powerful! Make them scary! Telling me they tried to poison a pope just makes them sound cool as hell, until I learn that they failed. After that they’re not assassins, just losers, like that kid who got perforated after failing to kill Trump.
I must confess that I left one important detail out: throughout this five-page history, Lesaile continuously gives population data for the succubi. There was just one at first, then she had Lilith alongside Eve’s Cain and Abel. When Adam is sent to the doghouse, he comes back with nine more lilim, the term Lesaile absolutely stole from Neon Genesis Evangelion for succubus children. By the time Adam dies, there are 139 succubi.
From here, Lesaile occasionally interrupts his story with demographics. Solomon? He fucked 700 succubi, adding 2100 daughters, so three per succubus, bringing their numbers up to 3300. Then, after humans spontaneously evolve the contract ritual he includes at the end of the book, they add another 18,056 immortal sex spirits for a total of 21,356 succubi.
My biblical numerology is rusty, but I believe 21 represents the rebellion and sin of the Israelites, 1000 is the number of years Satan will spend in spiritual prison after the end of days in Revelation, 300 might be the number of soldiers in Gideon’s army, and 56 is heavily associated with the apostle Paul, a symbol of abandoning the old ways in favor of the new. Clearly, this number is meant to represent the end of the ignorance of succubi and the beginning of a new world in which a small chosen segment of humanity will lead the way in choosing God’s sexy saviors to redeem their souls through fellatio.
Or it could mean literally anything else, biblical numerology being an entrails-reading practice that involves breaking down numbers in random or arcane ways. The only thing it actually tells us is that Lesaile has a fucked-up breeding fetish, which will be made clear once we reach the next part, the worst part of the Codex: the succubus Pokédex.
Pages 12 to 39 are names and descriptions of the various succubi known to Lesaile. Each invisible sex spirit gets a whole page dedicated to them, describing all of the different kinds of women this man could imagine being attracted to, using, alongside their names and some nonsense about what faction they belong to, the categories “Physical”, “Personality”, and “Sexuality”.
A couple of examples:
Jesiri is a curvy, 5’10”, pale-skinned, green-haired quiet woman who likes to be controlling in bed and loves bondage! Nagesti is a curvy, 5’8”, fair-skinned, turquoise-haired soft-spoken woman who loves to fuck in the shower.
See the pattern? Well, let’s talk about the exceptions.
First, and I just want to note this because it is surprising, there are women with every color of hair you can think of in this list except red. You’d think, given the predominance of “fair-skinned” women in his Pokédex that he’d have a related obsession with red-headed women. Apparently not!
Second, the bedicked women. A few succubi have a penis length in their “Sexuality” section—not in the “Physical” one, I suppose because you can’t really tell they have dicks just by looking at them. Lesaile thought he was including these women for his potential feminine readers, but since those readers don’t exist, we can draw the obvious conclusion: the 4chan pornbrained freak is a chaser. Shocker!
Finally, there’s this entry: Hersiop is a slender 4’7” woman (she’s hundreds of years old, don’t worry!) with pink curly hair and “mildly-toned skin”, whatever that means. You already know where I’m going with this, but I’m going to finish it anyway: Hersiop “behaves like a young, prepubescent girl (think lolita)”, is “talkactive” [sic], “enjoys Rape-play and forceful sex” (capitalization not mine), and, redundantly, is “very vocal”.
Bet you don’t feel bad for this guy now!
What follows this gross parade is a fairly standard masturbation magic ritual. On the night of the new moon, you write the name of the girl you’d like to bang from the sex Pokédex above on a white cloth with charcoal, then get naked, cleaning the room and making it smell good by lighting a candle and pouring a whole bottle of perfume over your head—showering, given his audience, is optional. Jerk off on the cloth while chanting the name, making sure to keep your extremely flammable dick away from the candle and also remembering to ejaculate with sufficient volume to impress your new mate. Then burn your cum-covered cloth, a flower, and one copy of your contract signed in blood (an example of which is helpfully provided on the next page), and, once it’s all ashes, close your eyes and chant the name of your sex babe 42 times. Finally, lie down on the floor, still with your eyes closed, and ask the succubus to “Come and know” you, in the biblical sense, of course. If it worked, you’ll feel her kiss, and then you can get to banging!
There’s not much to say about this ritual. Lesaile emphasizes later that if it didn’t work, you’re probably just too smelly or you need a zinc supplement. Maybe you didn’t believe hard enough! Married couples wishing to share a succubus can tie the cloth around the man’s penis in order to both ejaculate on it, in which case the succubus will kiss the woman and touch the man’s face to signal acceptance. No advice is given for unmarried couples, or non-heterosexual marriages. If you want to summon more succubi, just add their names and an extra flower each to get post-orgasm tortured for a month. At least, that’s the implication.
This ritual is rather tame, combustion likelihood notwithstanding. Any research into 20th-century occultists like Jack Parsons or Aleister Crowley will reveal much more disgusting sex rituals involving the debasement of a symbolically sacrificed person or the consumption of a placenta. All in all, this is the least creative, interesting, or revealing part of the book, even though it is ostensibly the whole point of the project.
Finally, Lesaile wraps up the book with an expanded FAQ section. I know what you’re asking. “What was the Big Picture you mentioned in the introduction?” “If the succubi are immortal, what secrets of history have they revealed to you that aren’t related to their own history?” Here, none of those questions are answered. Instead, we get the most disgusting part of the whole thing.
Remember the weird flexible vase in which succubi collect semen? Called a “soma chalice,” it’s a penis-shaped receptacle in which succubi collect one liter of one man’s semen (on average, a single ejaculation produces 1.5-5ml of semen, which, generously, means one would need to ejaculate 200 times before providing enough seed) and two liters of one woman’s vaginal fluid (referred to as “dew” by Yahweh in the history section, and there is no description of the harvesting process). Then, once they’ve collected the required volumes of liquid like an alchemy sidequest in a fantasy RPG, the succubus squirts that shit up in her like the chalice is a turkey baster or Bad Dragon dildo and in three weeks she’ll pop out a baby. The baby will be bald until “puberty”, one and a half years later, when she will develop sexually, including spontaneously generating a fetish (Lesaile never read his Freud or Lacan). They are named a combination of all three parents’ names, and are brought along the next time their mother is summoned to fuck their other two parents.
Yes. Don’t worry, Lesaile says it’s a “succubaen rite of passage”, but does acknowledge it is pretty weird.
Let’s back this up a bit. The first entry in the Pokédex is Tasheliu, who is 5’5”, curvy, golden-skinned, bronze-haired, sweet, motherly, gentle, easygoing, submissive, cuddle-focused. She loves group sex and hates anal! Lesaile’s text pre-dates the mommy dom, so he instead opts for a classic, loving motherly figure to be the source of Tashbranelle, who is 5’4”, with light golden skin, dark brown hair, slender (but still curvy, somehow), fun-loving, cheerful, sweet, quick-witted. She loves blowjobs and foreplay!
Tasheliu. Brandon. Danielle. Tashbranelle. Yes, in his own fiction, the man gives out the name of his magic sex spirit daughter in order to pimp her out and describes her sexual proclivities, having of course experienced them first hand. When accused of having sex with Tashbranelle, Lesaile responded only with a dashcam .gif of a car spinning 360 degrees on ice before resuming its course while overtaking the perspective vehicle.
Look, I know what you’re thinking: “Does the ritual work?”
It’s not what you’re thinking; you’re wondering why you just read 4911 words about some creep’s sex fantasy. I know that, and I promise we’ll get to that. But first:
I’m here to say yes, it works, and my beautiful bedickéd succubus wife is right behind me as I write this.
No, the ritual does not work. The number of people who claim it did are far outweighed by the number who tried it and failed. Lesaile explains it could take months to smell good enough or be of pure enough heart to attract a succubus, but we’ve heard both those excuses from cult leaders before. As I mentioned, this document is largely discredited among the people who try to summon succubi instead of talking to real women, even if it is still talked about.
The reason we’re here is because it was so popular. Why are people still talking about it on /x/ twelve years later, when the lifespan of most artifacts like this is measured in hours, when everything else in their library is either pre-digital or post-pandemic?
The reason is simple: unlike every other method of summoning sex slaves in the succubus library, this one is very clearly human. The Codex tells a story mostly unrelated to Lesaile himself, but you come away from it with a portrait of the pervert as a young man. It contains the hopes, fears, prejudices, and, most disturbingly, sexual proclivities of one lonely, imaginative freak, distilled into 42 pages of poorly written, YA-brained, genuinely weird shit. It’s twisted by early-onset internet porn overdose, but it is one of the last freak artifacts that still has a soul.
When Lesaile last posted in 2018, he said he’d learned a lot in his last five years and asked if anyone had any suggestions for the third edition of the Codex Succubi beyond “more in-depth descriptions of the girls”, which, for the record, I do not think is what this document needs. He received two replies, one person asking for source texts (Lesaile confirmed that none exist, it’s all from his imagination succubus oral tradition) and another from someone asking for help making first contact.
In that same post, Lesaile claimed to have been doxxed, that someone sent him a picture of the apartment building he shared with Danielle along with some gibberish in the email appended to the end of the Codex. He had since moved. The very end of that thread has someone asking for a succubus summoning Discord server, which feels anachronistic compared to the quaintness of sticking a throwaway email on a PDF.
Bottom-line: the Codex Succubi isn’t unique. There are thousands of freak manifestos littering the seafloor of a dying internet. But it is an artifact, a time capsule, a remnant of a bygone, slightly better era, when the structures underpinning our world were merely rotting rather than rotten. If something like this were to be created today, it wouldn’t have the soul this does. It would have AI-generated images of the succubi, at the very least, if it wasn’t itself entirely generated by AI. It would focus on the porn, not on the story. It would still be a misogynist, racist artifact, but it wouldn’t be human, and so it would immediately be forgotten.
Lesaile, I know you’re out there. If we assume the biographical data in this document is correct, you’re only four years older than me. You’re a 34- or 35-year-old man, probably with a job, maybe with a girlfriend or wife, god forbid with a child, and you wrote this online digital object. You’re just living your life—unless you died, in which case RIP, freak king.
I want to talk to you. If you read this, email me with some form of verification—emailing from one of the email addresses in the document would be ideal. I’d like to talk to the man behind the mask, but if you want to stay anonymous to protect your new life, I’ll talk to the mask itself, Lesaile. If you’d like to maintain kayfabe, I will do it. If you need someone to give you editorial advice on the 3rd ed., I’m your man.
When I was in college, I, too, was searching for the deeper meaning behind the universe. If I had a different experience, I might have ended up like this. I was into the occult. I didn’t know how to talk to women. I browsed 4chan. But I made friends, and I eventually, like Neo in The Matrix, was made to see the numbers behind reality: Marxism. What I learned is that there isn’t a secret to not being alone as a man. It’s just called being normal.
If you’re out there and you’re alone, just don’t be. Talk to someone, anyone. Ask questions about them, answer the ones you get about yourself honestly. Get a hobby that isn’t video games or porn or right-wing political extremism. Put down your phone. Turn off your computer. Read a book. Go to the gym. Make art. Plant trees. Be normal, like everyone else, and you’ll make friends. I make it sound easy, but that’s because it is. Mankind is a social animal. Stop scaring the hoes and you will find that love will come your way.