Dec 05 2016

Second Encounter By TeraS and her Adored Brother

A short time ago, I shared a story called “Encounter” on the Tale. Today, with a dear loved friend’s help, we have what can only really be thought of as the …


Second Encounter
By TeraS and her Adored Brother


A promise is a promise.


She said that he would see her again.

She’d promised.

It felt like that he’d been waiting … forever.

But … she’d promised.

Waiting for her to walk around a corner, appear on the other side of a room … looking for her in a crowd, seeing a flash of red … not quite her’s … catching a glimpse of ebony hair, not as wild as hers … he didn’t give up on her promise.

He did wonder where she was, when she’d make herself known. Time passed, the seasons changed, and that moment still hadn’t come to be. Her card, the one that held her promise, didn’t carry the sweet scent of cherries any longer. But nonetheless, the memories of that night, of her being close, caring about him … those memories returned when he held that card. It was something that helped him to smile once again.

Yet time passed, as it does. Hours had turned to days, days into weeks, and she’d not returned as she’d promised. Still, the card didn’t exactly say when he’d see her, nor did it ask for him to wait for her. It was a promise, telling him that there was someone out there that cared about him. Her words to him, her smile, that promise she held openly for him, asked that he not give up, not turn away.

Asked him not to give up on his own promise.

He’d taken the chance once, and encountered her. The time came when he had courage once more to take a chance, to see what might be. She’d want that of him, ask him to try. He didn’t think it a poor idea, to try, to see who he might encounter. Perhaps there would be someone that he would be able to call his love. The weeks turned into months of encounters with those who didn’t see the value in dating him, of being with him. He was close to some, they seeing him as a friend, sometimes a confidant, occasionally a brother.

The promise began to feel threadbare.

The leaves fell from the trees; the weather was turning cold. Halloween arrived as the nights became longer, the depths of the shadows becoming more pronounced. A thought brought him along to a secret that made him look at the card, think about what she’d said and her promise, what such a thing meant.

The promise seemed not as it was before.

Thanksgiving arrived and with it came the reminders of another promise broken. The one he’d loved was with another. It wasn’t completely unexpected, but seeing her with another, the two of them laughing together, was a hard thing. He’d given his heart, she’d taken it, then she moved along. It broke his heart a little more knowing that they were together and he was alone. It was a time of thanks, at least it should have been. He couldn’t quite see how there was much, if anything, to be thankful for. The moment she’d been there wasn’t as clear, some of the details were slipping out of his memories. Sadly the choice of the one he loved made the day less happy within himself, a little bit of sadness creeping in.

The promise faded just a bit more in his eyes.

The snows came, the winds carrying the frost and the cold of the winter season. Christmas came, bringing with it wishes for those that could still hold onto their hopes and dreams. The family gathered, as was their way, he being alone as the moment played out around him. Watching his parents open their gifts brought a soft smile. That smile was a little wan as his brother and wife played with their two children, laughing as their presents are opened … together.

Though he hid it well, the promise was heartbreaking.

The eve of the new year arrived, the night upon which promises were made for the coming year, when those fortunate to have another in their lives were able to share their wishes as the old gave way to the new. But this was not what came on this night. He did not go out into the world, to find himself amongst humanity, sharing in the moment, to gather within a promise for another year to be. His place was in his apartment, alone … if not quite alone.

Pika, his only friend, at least the only one that hadn’t abandoned him, watched silently from a window ledge as the merrymakers sang and carried on far below. The cat’s deep grey eyes cast themselves across the room, falling upon a soul that had lost faith in their promise. He sat silently, listening to the laughter outside, his hands slowly rolling an empty can of Diet Coke between them. His eyes were haunted, there was pain in them. The year had burdened him, bent him, pushed him until, finally, depression had become his constant companion.

But that was not quite true. There was one other companion with him. Setting the empty can aside, tears in his eyes, he pressed a finger onto the card she’d given him, dragging it across the table. Six months now since she’d appeared. Six months since she’d given him the card. Turning it over, her name remained there.


He considered tossing it aside, knowing that she’d never return. That her promise was—like every other one—untrue, and it brought tears to his eyes. Closing his eyes, he brushed one hand over them, wetting his skin. A single tear rolled over his cheek, passed into space, and then fell onto the card he continued to hold in spite of his feelings.

Turning the card over to look at her promise, he spoke to himself: “She called me a man of honour. She said that I was good, that I shouldn’t be alone. Why am I? Why isn’t it enough to be understanding, to care, to be there for someone? Why can’t I find someone who loves me? I’m the stereotypical nice guy that finishes last, that can’t find happiness.”

The tears came, the imagined truth he knew must be real pushing him. The card became damp, what little light there was around him shimmering where it fell on the wet card.

“I do everything a good man should … and that isn’t good enough for anyone.”

The card fell from his fingers, the last little bit of the promise being taken with it. It was more than depression, more than self-loathing, and his cat’s fur bristled as she watched him. He stood by the window, a hand stroking her fur, but she knew something was very wrong with him. The sight outside did nothing to help his mood as he watched the snow fall lazily towards the street below. He could see people walking together, happy couples on their way to parties to ring in the new year.

Those thoughts were finally too much. With a sigh, he nudged Pika off the window ledge and drew the curtains closed to blot out the scene outside. The lights were soon dimmed and he walked into his bedroom, once again alone.

He wasted little time, soon crawling into bed, the sheets pulled over, curled under them, a pillow clutched against his aching head. The bed shifted—it can only be Pika, he knows—and he didn’t stir from where he lay. He felt her walking over the sheets, nudging his shoulder with her nose, purring in an attempt to curl up with him. But he didn’t want to; he didn’t have that want inside of him.

What he wanted was something he’d never really had. Someone to love, to lay with in the night, to talk to, to have that connection, that need, filled within him—the need to feel their heat, to have a moment of passion, of love. But all his twin size bed had waiting on the other side of him was an empty space.

“… not worthy of anyone … never find someone to love me …”

His cat was the only one to hear the words whispered, to see the glint of his tears still being shed. The night moved closer and closer to the end of the year and he said not another word. When he felt Pika jump off the bed, he knew: at this moment, like so many before, he was alone.

The clock on the bedside table moved towards midnight, the seconds ticking away. Off in the other room, the card still was wet with tears. Over by the window, a cat peeked through a gap in the drawn curtains, watching the snow fall.

Then, she mewed.


Then, she purred.

A slim hand, tipped with red nails, lightly played over her fur, making her tail dart about in pleasure. But that warmth faded as she looked into a pair of oh-so-green eyes, a questioning mew echoing in the room.

The fingers scratched her ear then were drawn away, followed by the soft sound of heels clicking on the floor. She watched the shadow draped in red as it moved to the card, picking it up, then leaving. She bounded from the window in chase, darting between the shadow’s legs and rushing onwards.

He hadn’t fallen asleep, though he wished that he had. He was restless, turning over, trying to be comfortable. Coming to lie on his side, his eyes focused upon the clock.

It was just a moment before midnight … a single moment.

It seems to go on … forever.

He waits for the hands to move, to mark the passing of time.

But they didn’t.

Reaching out a hand towards the clock, his eyes still wet, he let a sniffle escape. He drew a breath, and in the back of his mind he sensed something in the air …


But his mood rejected it, and he closed his eyes, sighing.

She watched from the doorway, her so-green eyes considering him, his soul.

The bed shifted. It had to be Pika, of course; there was no one else there, he believed. It was the cat nudging him with her nose, trying to get him to roll over, to look, to see. But he wasn’t interested.

She mewled, then bounced off the bed. Somehow that seemed to be appropriate, no one wanted to be with him away. Nothing happened for a time, then the bed shifted again.

Deeply green eyes considered him now, the tilting of a head to the right, her raven locks falling wildly about her shoulders, covering her left eye. Flicking a finger through those errant locks, she held a soft smile as she reached to him, her right hand brushing against his bare shoulder, but he didn’t respond. It was another dream, a fantasy; it wasn’t real. The hand traced his shoulder, then he felt the touch of nails against his skin. He couldn’t ignore the soft lips that pressed against his shoulder next, however. Nor could he ignore a voice from the past: “A gentleman shouldn’t be left alone.”

His eyes remained closed. He didn’t want to open them, didn’t want to find this was all a dream. But he did reply: “You?”

“Yes. I promised.”

He opened his eyes, needing to know she was really there.

It was her, there was no question—the concern in her eyes, the soft smile playing on her lips. He’d expected her to see her as she was that night, but she wasn’t. A long, fuzzy, red, oversized sweater caressed her body. She looked, in many ways, like the girl next door, not the seductress she was said to be. There wasn’t something erotic pulling on him. What was tugging was the look in her eyes, one that reflected his one wish.

“Talk to me… please?”

The tales about her told of what she could do, but his mood, his mind, pushed him towards one single conclusion as he closed his eyes: “Nothing to talk about.”

“There’s always something to talk about.”

She gave him some time to think, to reply, but, when he didn’t, the bed moved again, her body flowing over the sheets. A ebon-haired, red horned and tailed vision lay beside him. She paused there, considering him, then she moved a little closer to him. Then he felt her spooned against him, one arm draped over his waist, the other lightly caressing his hair: “I promised.”

He sighed, it was almost in defeat: “I’m … ready.”

Her reply was concerned, almost hurt: “What … do you mean?”

Slipping out of her embrace, he rolled onto his back, waiting for her: “Take me … please. I’m ready for you to claim me and … just let it be over.”

She was fluid, moving from being beside him to straddling his legs, looking upon him: “Since when?”

“Halloween: I read a story about you.”

“Tell me.”

He couldn’t; it would only make things worse.

Her hands roamed the sheets over his chest: “Not all stories are true.”

“You are the Queen of the Succubi aren’t …”

The touch of a finger over his lips stopped him: “I do like to think that I’m not as ominous in person …”

She removed that finger, her hands lying lightly on his shoulders: “… and, please, you know my name.”

He still hadn’t reopened his eyes, but knew when she lay closer to him, the heat of her body warming the sheets: “Why … why are you here, Tera? Why after so long … why now?”

Her long hair tickled over his shoulder as she came closer still, her lips nuzzling against his cheek lightly: “I was called here.”

It wasn’t much of an answer, leaving out the who and the how. But that didn’t seem to matter, as her voice was sweet, smooth, and delicious. She spoke not in lust or want, but simply in truth.

He opened his eyes.

She had risen up again, drawing back, allowing him to see her, as she was, for the first time. She hadn’t changed from that night they’d met. There was the matter of her horns, of course, and he knew that her tail was somewhere as well. But she was herself, as the stories had told.

The red sweater was so much more perfect for her than that dress was, he realized. The expression he had made her giggle lightly, tilting her head to the left, a lock of ebon hair covering one of her lovely green eyes: “Are the stories close?”

“Not really.”

They were both silent for a time, just looking at each other, he trying to marshal his thoughts, she content to wait for him to do so. Time continued to pause and it took a grey-eyed cat jumping into bed with them and mewing for the moment to break.

Regarding the cat, the red-horned seductress sighed: “Pushy thing, isn’t she?”

He watched his cat rub herself against Tera’s thigh, looking at him expectantly: “Pika?”

Tera traced a finger over the cat’s back: “The stories about me and cats are, for the most part, true.”

He didn’t know what to say as his furry companion found a corner of the bed and curled up there.

“I’m not here to claim your soul. I’m here … because.”

“Because … why?”

The sigh was an aching one: “I’ve seen you suffer… watched from afar and saw. I felt your need. I felt the call of your heart … I’m here now.”

His blue eyes locked onto her deep, emerald orbs. He looked intensely into them as he expressed what he believed to be the truth: “You should just take my soul. I’m not anyone special.”

She shook her head, her mane dancing wildly about her: “No. Sorry. Not going to happen. Nothing good comes of that. You are not going to die at my hand, nor any of my kind. You are better than you know, and it would not be a mercy or a gift.”

“So, is this just out of pity?” the question was as blunt as a crowbar.

Her tail appeared behind her, the tip looking over her shoulder at him it seemed: “Pity? Oh, my dear sweet, none of this is for pity’s sake. I don’t do pity. This isn’t about sex; this isn’t about a quick roll in the hay. You are better than that and you know so.” Her expression turned soft: “This is about mending a lonely heart and helping its owner find a path to happiness.”


She had, of course, a bemused smile: “Why not?”

The clock striking midnight came unexpectedly. He found his lips pressed against her own, a kiss like none he’d felt before. She loved him, more than anyone had, more than anyone really could. It wasn’t for sex, passion, or raw need. She … just loved him. As the kiss broke, she kissed his lips twice more before her lips brushed over the tip of his nose: “Happy New Year.”

He … smiled. Something he hadn’t done since that night they’d first met. She’d come because she loved him. It wasn’t a love that could really be put into words, exactly. The next kiss was a little deeper, their tongues entwined, fingers cupping cheeks, the delicious moment of accepting.

He closed his eyes again, savouring her touch, her curves against his skin. He knew, truly, that if he wanted, he could let himself go, be buried within her, be held by her. She could do anything to him and she would allow him whatever he wished.

In all of the heat, the need, the desire, one part of him won that battle. Opening his eyes, she was still there, eyes warm and glinting, waiting for whatever he wished. Her smile said, without a word, that it was okay, whatever he wanted from her.

He knew, exactly, what he wanted: “Will you …?”

Tera moved to straddle his waist, the only thing separating them was the thin sheet between them: “Yes.”

He took her hand and kissed her palm: “I want you.”

“I know. I can feel how hard you are. How you are aching. But …”

He smiled, she knew. He wanted her, but not in the midst of being depressed: “But that’s not what I want.”

She nodded: “Of course … You’ll know when. But …” Her fingers gathered up the bottom of her sweater, rolling it slowly up her body: “… sex isn’t the same thing as being intimate.”

Lifting herself off the sweater, she rolled it up until the edge was just above her navel: “That’s what called me here.”

Tugging a little further, the curves of her cleavage came into view: “For me, it’s been a moment since I last saw you. Sometimes I lose track of time, lose my place.”

The sweater was pulled upwards, over her horns; then she held the bundled red against her cleavage, hiding her curves from view: “You never lost me. You’ll never lose me.”

Tera slid off, moving to the side, pulling at the sheet as she did so, the sweater being dropped beside the bed, for the moment forgotten: “I’m part of you for as long as you want me.”

She stood beside the bed, completely nude, her fingers lightly tracing over her thighs: “You’ll always smell cherries.”

As she said those words, that scent he’d pushed away came back, stronger than before, clearer, more alive.

He didn’t understand, not really: “Cherries?”

A twirl of a finger was her reply: “Sweet … please turn over.”

He rolled onto his stomach, turning his face to the side. He then felt Tera straddling him again, their naked rears rubbing against each other.

Tera’s hands were warm, soft, passing lightly over his back. She focused on pleasuring him through her massage, working from his neck and shoulders, all the way down his back and waist. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of her delicate fingers working over his tight muscles. When Tera kissed his spine, he moaned lightly from the pleasure. When she draped her wild mane of hair against his skin, he shivered from the sensations.

Laying herself down, her breasts pressed against his back, she whispered hotly against his ear: “You will always have my love. You are a gentleman, a lover, an amazing man most of all.”

A soft tongue licked over his ear: “Listen to me. Don’t forget what I’ve said. It matters.”


She didn’t answer that question, instead slinking off to the side, then lightly touching his shoulder, her tail pointing for him to turn onto his side. Before, there had been a sheet between them. There wasn’t one now.

The ebon haired dream spooned herself against him. One long, slender leg draped over his own, her tail lying over both. Her lips nuzzled into his hair, one arm laying over his waist. The press of her cleavage into him told everything.

He was there, in her arms, being held.

“Will you be here when I wake?”

“I promise that I will be here when you need me most. I promise that you will always have my love. And I promise that I’m always with you.”

The scent of cherries was stronger than ever.

He nodded as he closed his eyes, drifting off into the first real rest he’d had all year. Tera remained with him all night, watching over him, watching his chest rise, smiling at the dreams that came. The night passed, the dawn soon coming to awaken him. She rose from the bed, careful not to disturb him. He was a good soul, a worthy one. That thought made her smile as she slinked quietly from his bedroom, letting him sleep.

He awoke later in the day to find that Tera had gone. Lying in bed, he smiled, remembering her, what they’d shared. Stumbling out of bed he walked into the living room, where he found Pika curled up in a chair…

… and a second sliver card waiting for him.

The note read: A promise is a promise … for always … forever.

The words gave him hope as he looked out the window, a new year begun. Pika woke up then and looked at him, giving a miffed, hungry mew.

“Right; you are the Queen around here, aren’t you?”

He didn’t think he’d seen a more kittenish smile as he petted her, knowing that she wanted food. He was in the midst of opening a can of tuna when there was a knock at the door.

“Hang on!”

He scrambled to get something on—answering the door in the nude wasn’t a good idea, after all. Rushing back into the bedroom, he found a sweater lying on the ground, and tugged it on … a red one.

“I’m coming!”

The smell of cherries came, causing him to freeze in mid-rush for the door. It was her sweater. His cat looked at him with probably the most kittenish smile he’d seen.

He was wrong about that when he opened the door: “Um … Hello?”

The woman standing at his door had a far more kittenish smile: “Um … Hi! I moved in across the hallway last night and wanted to introduce myself.”

The scent of cherries from a certain Queen drifted around the two souls as they looked at each other a very long time before she asked a question: “Do you like cherries?”

He smiled: “I do. They’re my favourite.”

Her eyes twinkled as she revealed what she’d been holding in her hands. A pie of a particular kind: “I love cherries.”

He noted that the pie had been partially enjoyed: “Would you like to come in? I have some rocky road in the freezer.”

As she crossed the threshold, they both smiled: one for the road that brought them here, one for the road ahead.

As the door closed, at the other end of the hallway, Tera leaned against the wall …

… smiling and enjoying some of that lovely cherry pie.

Dec 04 2016

A Review of Taken By The Futa Succubus written by Kara Lynn

Taken By The Futa Succubus written by Kara Lynn

Taken By The Futa Succubus written by Kara Lynn

The thing about very short stories is that, many times, they don’t allow for the characters to change, the story to be told more deeply. Telling of an encounter with a succubus is one thing, telling of what happens and making it more than erotica with a bare amount of heat is important.

Beyond this, skipping over things, not editing the story well, also does harm to the story. Perhaps the single thing that, when missing, brings me up short is when the succubus is never given a name.

That, for me, makes it very difficult to become immersed in the story.

It is the story of:

Chris doesn’t understand what he playing with, when his toying with hell turns him into a sex toy for a futa demoness.

Chris summons a succubus, seeking out that which he desires. But what he finds is that he doesn’t understand what confronts him and what his desires truly are. But then succubi know the desires of others and when given the chance, they are quite willing to see to it that desires come to be.

The main issue with this work is the seeming lack of direction. As the story is told, themes of mind control, dominance and submission come into play. Then there is a gender transformation, seemingly out of nowhere, and, obviously as the title hints, some futa themes as well. While the many themes could work, the second issue comes to editing.

The work doesn’t read very clearly. Some of the passages are difficult to follow, there are tense issues, a mixture of modern and medieval languages create moments when the reader is drawn from the work. The work is very short, there isn’t a lot of time spent in developing characters, exploring the story, describing events as they unfold.

The story rushes past, leaving no time for comprehension. The erotica is muted, having next to no heat within the moments when it comes. The gender transformation rushes by, not being told, only the aftermath. In short, there’s so many opportunities to tell a larger story, but they simply aren’t taken. It feels like there is a need to rush to the ending, to get to the “twist” such as it is and then draw the story to a close.

Another issue is that while the main character is named, the succubus, who is critical to the story, never tells her name. What Chris is allowed to call her isn’t her name, it’s a plot point and not much more than that. As well, there’s really nothing told about Chris, why he made the choices he did. There’s just a lot of questions left open, not explored and there need not have been.

The work needs a serious editing first and foremost. More story, more character development has to be considered. If there is there is be erotica, there needs to be more heat than there is. Finally, exploring the characters more would be nice to see. All of this would take what is, overall, what reads like the outline of a story and make this the story it could be.

There is a story, it needs to breathe.

One and a half out of five pitchforks.

The work is far too short, it skims over what otherwise could have been something more involved that it is. I feel like there’s parts missing, directions not explored. Adding to this work, perhaps making this a series of encounters between Chris and the succubus would be more interesting. But most of all, it’s a shame the succubus was never given a name.



Dec 04 2016

A Review of The Succubus Within by Lostsoul

The Succubus Within by Lostsoul

The Succubus Within by Lostsoul

There are some works that feel like they are incomplete thoughts. One very clear sign, at least to me, is when there isn’t a cover for the book, only a placeholder. It suggests that the author didn’t manage to get far enough in their writing, or their desire to tell a story, to do so.

Beyond that, the telling of a story cannot be in a rush. Nor can it be lacking in emotion. The characters need to develop in order to tell the story well. Jumping around and scattering their thoughts among some short and lukewarm erotica doesn’t make for telling a good story.

  • Title: The Succubus Within
  • Author: Lostsoul
  • Length: 29 Pages
  • Publishing Date: May 31, 2016
  • This work iat

It is the story of:

Follow the tale of Hathor, one of Egypt’s many Goddesses of fertility. In present day Kansas City, lurks a Goddess in human form. Ancient and powerful, she enjoys the sexual energy of college girls. After walking on Earth alone for over two thousand years, she desires a companion. Ra, furious that she has broken his rules on creating another, makes quite the entrance. Can she keep him from enslaving and destroying the modern world?

Being immortal means sometimes your name is forgotten to all, even yourself at times. Hathor is a succubus, a long lived one. Once worshipped in Egypt, she now holds sway over a small part of the modern world. But the past can haunt anyone, and when Hathor finds it calling, she cannot resist the call.

The single thing about this work is that the author has so many ideas to play with, so many moments to tell and they all come out in a rush. There’s not much time spent in delving into Hathor’s story, her past. There’s more focus on some odd erotica, some BDSM, and a fixation on Hathor being, in a way, a mix of both succubus and vampire for all of the blood that comes.

Some of Hathor’s succubus powers, as they are used on a large number of female students around her, are interesting and if the author had invested the time to tell more of a story there, that might have helped. In the same way, Hathor’s consumption of the girls, and that happens a lot, becomes a bit receptive, sometimes nasty and evil. Much of her telling of that is emotionally lacking and seemingly feels tacked onto the story.

The characters are very thinly written. There’s little to no character development and when one single important thing changes for Hathor, it reads like it is brushed off, not expanded on as such an event seemed to matter to her. There is a transformation of another character into being a succubus, but that isn’t described well, told in passing, and as events unfold, becomes a questionable moment in the story. There is meaning to the event, it draws Ra into the story, but again, there’s a lot of emotion that simply does not exist.

The fleeing moments of erotica have barely any heat, there’s no real passion to them. Some of the mind control aspects offer heat, but that isn’t played out as it could have been. At times the mind control… really isn’t. Characters fall under Hathor’s sway, but oddly.

That then is the core problem with this work. It’s written oddly, it doesn’t take the plot points and expand on them very far. The work reads as if the author had a series of ideas, connected them as best as possible, and tried to make something of them. There is a story here, but it doesn’t have time to come to fruition. The work, the characters, the ideas need time to breath and that never happens.

That’s a shame because plotting the path of Hathor from Egypt to Kansas City as this story does, skims over so many stories. As the work is told from the perspective of Hathor, there should have been more time spent developing her story than there is. There’s missed opportunities here and that’s the shame.

Two and a half out of five pitchforks.

The work is very much unfinished. Not so much in that there isn’t a story here, for there is, but rather the thoughts are incomplete and scattered. There’s too much of a rush at times, a skimming over of plot and characters when there need not be. As well, the focus wanders in telling the story of Hathor, giving glimpses of something larger but never telling that story. The work is ‘complete’, but it isn’t ‘finished’ or ‘polished’ enough.



Dec 03 2016

Succubus – A Short Student Film on YouTube

A very short student film today on the Tale that I found on YouTube which has a Succubus as one of the main characters. It isn’t sexual, nor it is what one might call horror. But it has atmosphere and in that comes some interesting moments in which the story is told…

If you cannot see the film here on the Tale, please try this link:

The film is described by the creators as:

Sleep paralysis and an ancestral succubus demon get together into an experimental short film where our main character is tormented by a female demon who is trying to get into his soul.

Here is a still from the film, which gives an idea of the mood, the characters and the succubus herself…

Succubus Student Film Syill

There’s a hint of, if not horror, than certainly suspense in the film and in a lot of ways I liked that fore the tension that built up in the work. It does end on a point that really does beg for more to be told and it’s a shame that it didn’t continue on further.

Being that the plot seems to revolve around the connection between the two characters, I find myself wondering what that is. The way the succubus, or as she is described in the credits, the intruder, looks almost longingly at the male character at one point is I felt haunting.

It is very dark, and by that I mean that being as the film is shot in black and white the shadows in the room seem to overcome just about everything save for the splashes of white in both of the character’s clothing. That does add a lot of texture and mood to the work, and it works well, but it did feel overwhelming at times.

I am very glad that the work didn’t devolve into pure horror, blood and gore, because that happens too often with Succubi. In this, there’s a certain calm and I think that’s the more telling…



Dec 02 2016

A Review of The Legend of Elissa series by M. Dunn


The Legend of Elissa - Pulled Over by M. Dunn

The Legend of Elissa – Pulled Over by M. Dunn

A review this time of a pair of stories that tell of a succubus named Elissa. The thing about these books is that while there is story, there is erotica, there’s something missing.

When the main character, who they are most of all, really doesn’t get explored, that’s a shame. Being that the stories are very short, snd focused on Elissa having her way with others, that’s sort of understandable. But really when the character has a story, and that isn’t explored, the story itself is less than it could have otherwise been.

The first work is:

The work tells of:

Late for work and with more pent up energy than is good for her, Elissa speeds down the roads. But when she gets pulled over, and she notices the cop is a woman, busty, and attractive as hell, there’s no way Elissa is paying this fine. In fact, she’s going to have a lot of sizzling fun with this cop.

Elissa’s morning is a mess. From start to finish, nothing’s gone right and her mood isn’t getting any better. A poor choice leads to being pulled over and the possibility of her day getting really bad. However, Elissa is a succubus, and she’s just in the right frame of mind to have one good thing happen in her day.

Rather than reviewing each work on its own, my review will be of the series as a whole. That’s mainly because the problems, and good things, in both are really the same overall.

The Legend of Elissa - The Check-Up by M. Dunn

The Legend of Elissa – The Check-Up by M. Dunn

The second work in the series continues following Elissa as she tries to deal with the minutia and rules that humanity puts on her. Some of them are, at least for her, really a waste of time. But somehow there is always the chance of something interesting happening.

Much like the first work in the series, there’s not a lot of focus spent on Ellisa’s past, who she is or really anything that develops her character. The work is, as a whole, a hot flash, which has some heat, but otherwise there’s not much otherwise in a story, or characters to make it more than it is.

The second work is:

  • Title: The Legend of Elissa – The Check-Up
  • Author: M. Dunn
  • Length: 14 Pages
  • ASIN: B01D8VMKH8
  • Publishing Date: March 20, 2016
  • This work at

The work tells of:

Elissa is ready for her first annual physical, but when she falls head over heels for a young nurse, who doesn’t seem to want our lovely demon, Elissa is forced to come up with another steamy way to seduce young Nurse Lynn. And it involves the Lynn’s busty, brunette boss, Doctor Pinler.

Elissa’s day seems to be one in which she spends the day at her doctor’s office. It’s a waste of time, there’s nothing wrong with her and there never will be. She’s a succubus after all and the tests aren’t going to be a problem. However, Elissa being horny and seeing her doctor and nurse nearby, might make for a better morning at least.

The series can be best described as a pair of hot flashes of erotica with a little bit of story to hold them together. In each, Elissa begins her day being miffed at the world before getting herself into a situation where her succubus powers come into play, she mind controls someone, has sex with them, and then leaves. There’s no time spent in telling Elissa’s own past, who she is, other than a futa succubus, and that’s a problem.

She’s an interesting character and it feels like there’s more to tell about her. How she came to be on Earth isn’t explained, how she’s fit into human culture isn’t explored. Overall, really more time is taken in talking about the humans that Elissa encounters than herself. Ellisa is a mystery throughout save for what she can do, which while being the point of the series, isn’t as interesting as things could be.

The mind control aspects of the stories are a bit flat, the erotica has some heat in it, but even so, that heat isn’t enough to overcome a lack of plot and story. The purpose of both works is just to get Ellisa into a situation where she can have fun with some humans and then walk away from the encounter in a better mood.

The works are short, therefore there isn’t a lot of time to be spent outside of the erotica. I think that the author could have written more about Elissa’s past, perhaps talked about her goals being around humans. There needs to be something more about Elissa than just going around and having sex, which is suggested, but isn’t explored. It needs to be.

Two out of five pitchforks.

There’s not enough story about Elissa herself and that’s the problem. She’s a succubus, she has some interesting powers and she’s a futa. Just saying that and not exploring that leaves a lot of story untold. Story matters, there isn’t enough here and there is so much potential in Ellisa’s character. It would be nice for the author to focus on telling more story than just the erotica.



Dec 02 2016

A Review of Lust in Winter: A Paranormal Erotic Anthology by Devi Ansevi, Emma Jaye, Ina Morata and Katherine Nevitt

Lust in Winter: A Paranormal Erotic Anthology by Devi Ansevi, Emma Jaye, Ina Morata and Katherine Nevitt

Lust in Winter: A Paranormal Erotic Anthology by Devi Ansevi, Emma Jaye, Ina Morata and Katherine Nevitt

A review of a collection of erotic works this time on the Tale, one which has a somewhat darker focus within the stories found in the collection. Among these is a story which has an aspect to it of a character that is an incubus, but really isn’t.

That’s a bit vague I realize, but then the story itself is about a Christmas Wish, a very odd one at least from my perspective. As such, it’s a bit of a different work to consider compared to most that I review.

As this is an anthology of works, I will be reviewing the incubus related story in particular and then the collection as a whole as I normally do.

  • Title: Lust in Winter: A Paranormal Erotic Anthology
  • Author: Devi Ansevi, Emma Jaye, Ina Morata and Katherine Nevitt
  • Length: 333 Pages
  • ASIN: B01N75KSK6
  • Publishing Date: November 15, 2016
  • This work in Kindle Format at

The work is described as a collection of:

Warm yourself in the blaze from this quartet of lusty novellas. In the fourth volume of the Lust series, our authors bring you shivery tales of creatures with fangs, fur and claws. Lusty ghosts, hungry vampires, frost giants, and Christmas fairies delivering dark wishes…Let us fill your stockings with some seriously sexy treats.

In Devi Ansevi’s Sugar and Ice, when a banker meets a candy artist, sparks ignite – quite literally. He’s the descendant of a frost giant. She’s…well, that’s a mystery. Whatever she is, she’s got power to spare. Hawk and Candy have little in common, or so they believe. And then the dreams start. With dark forces working against them, can they overcome their differences in time?

In Emma Jaye’s Dark Christmas Wish, Winter is a fairy in the Adult Wish Department at the North Pole. His latest assignment will take Winter to his limits, and beyond: dark domination of a submissive incubus by a Master vampire. He has always loved dominating his lovers, but for this dark wish, he’s the incubus.

In Desires of the Winter Women by Ina Morata, ghostly sisters of ice and snow battle for the attentions of the same man in the wilds of Alaska. Their love triangle heats up the mountainous terrain. When one sister enlists the aid of the lusty Inuit Master of the Mountains, the resultant bonfire may bring an early spring thaw.

In Katherine Nevitt’s Dreamwalker, Leona survived a violent attack that has left her blind and bitter. She agrees to spend Christmas in the mountains with her best friend, hoping the peace and quiet will ease her terrible nightmares. Nothing seems to work, until a vampire begins to stalk her dreams. Their attraction is instant, but will Zach’s offer to restore her sight cost her the ultimate price?

In Dark Christmas Wish, Winter the fairy takes on a Christmas wish that isn’t at all child-like. A dream of an incubus being dominated by a vampire is asked for and Winter is the one to be drawn into the fantasy. Forgetting who he was, becoming the incubus Winter, he lives a new life before being taken and dominated. But in the end who’s being dominated in truth?

The work tells an interesting series of stories that are very much like the idea of nestable dolls, in that there is one story within another within another and so on. It’s well done, and I liked how each level of the character’s realties are dealt with. While Winter is an elf, and that’s clear from the beginning of the work, his “incubus” personality is deep, well written and has a history that held my attention. It’s a shame that history was a bit skimmed over for the sake of getting to the story itself, but in the context of a dream, or wish, it made sense.

Winter as a young, not quite incubus, was the part of the story that was amazing for me. Dealing with his human friends, trying to accept what his parents wanted, what his own needs and desire are, that told a story that on its own would be a thrilling tale to be told. It wouldn’t have to go where this story went however, and just seeing what might have been otherwise is something that I ponder about quite a lot.

But the story makes a darker turn, Winter encounters a rather sadistic vampire and the story moves away from Winer dealing with life to Winter facing domination. The story turns dark, the BDSM is quite a lot more than I enjoy and it took a lot of what I liked about this work away as that unfolded. That said, this part of the work made sense with the rest of things and those that enjoy harsher BDSM will enjoy I believe. But my past experiences live me a different outlook on things in which I couldn’t put myself into the situation as the dominant character for one simple reason.

Past the encounter, past the resolution, the work comes to a screeching halt with the ending. In that part of the work I found myself asking what was the point honestly for the characters themselves. I didn’t expect a happy ending, but it is as harsh as the BDSM and it just bothered me. The promise of the beginning, of the incubus Winter’s life and story just seemed cast aside. I thought that was a shame when it was so well done.

I’ll give this story three out of five pitchforks.

The beginning was quite interesting, the buildup to the BDSM was really excellent. It’s when the BSDM comes into play that the story fell apart for me. Some will enjoy the work, there’s no question, but there just seemed to be a real change in the story in the latter third of the work and the ending was a disappointment all things considered.

Overall, the anthology contains some very well written stories with full characters and a constant theme and focus throughout. For those that enjoy their erotica a bit darker, I think this work will be very appealing by far.

For the anthology as a whole, three and a half out of five pitchforks.

I just didn’t find the stories worked with my sensibilities, but that does not mean there isn’t some very good writing to be found within the pages.



Dec 01 2016

Succubi Image of the Week 463

The artist Reiq does amazing art, but only occasionally do Succubi or Devil Girls happen to pop up. There’s something about his original characters, I think it is the mix of cute and a little bit of a tease that comes out in their character. Now I have had many times that I don’t especially like hooves on Succubi. But sometimes I do…

She devil 002 by reiq

She devil 002 by reiq

I found this work on DeviantArt and you can find the original page where I found this work on DeviantArt here and Reiq’s DeviantArt artist’s page can be found here as well.

More than anything in this art, what catches my attention is the expression and smile she has, including the little hint of a fang that is peeking out from her lips. Looking at the flame patterns on her skin, I would love to see this work fully coloured as I think it would be the most interesting effect.

Love her hair, her horns work well, and there’s a neat little personality in her tail that I adore too. Normally I would have a pause at her hooves, but there’s something about them that I do like, I think that they look less like hooves than sort of fire covered boots or something like that.

A unique character really… I wonder if there’s a story I can create about her sometime…