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 Amazon.com

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.

 

Tera

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…

 

Tera

Nov 30 2016

It is a Devil Costume, but what exactly is it?

Fantasia DevilThis is one of those examples where I can’t quite work out what is going on with this costume. By that I mean the description tells me nothing, the price doesn’t make a lot of sense, and I don’t think I would place an order anywhere because of the questions that this poses for me…

This is called the Fantasia Devil and I have no idea what comes with it. Is it the horns? The pitchfork? The gloves? Perhaps the dress or chicher? It’s impossible to say because the description doesn’t really say what it being sold.

But there is a price tag, of course, and that tells me that it might only be the rather depressed looking pitchfork.

Whatever it is, it sells for $14 US.

It might be the pitchfork and horns for all I know, and I do not. What really bothers me is the lack of information about this.

But, as a whole, I can’t say I care for this entire thing all that much anyway…

Zero pitchforks out of five.

I just wish I knew for certain what I was looking at, even if it does nothing for me…

 

Tera

Nov 29 2016

A Review of Softly My Demon Lover by Penelope Middleton

Softly My Demon Lover by Penelope Middleton

Softly My Demon Lover by Penelope Middleton

Not all works with hints of succubi or incubi are focused upon them. At times there is no real need for erotica, for the telling of sexual encounters in detail. Many times what matters more is the exploration of the character themselves, their history and what occurs around them.

What reality is can be fluid, It can be that which some expect, others need. Beyond this comes the question of who’s reality, or which reality, is the one that tells the truth, which is a lie, and along the way, who pays the price for making it so. Whichever truth exists, there usually is a single constant to be explored.

It is the story of:

A week’s vacation at a turn of the century hotel sequestered within an isolated seaside setting. What could be more appealing or romantic? The Pelican Arms Hotel, constructed in the 1920’s, modestly upgraded over the years, still outwardly retained the charm of a quaint 19th century Grande Dame, it’s ‘widow’s walk’ protected by marble balustrades and its intimate guest rooms set off with their individual private terraces. For Josh and Jennifer it was the perfect setting. Charles and Anne blackly thought it was the pits.

What both couples instinctively suspected was that the Pelican wasn’t entirely what it seemed. The truth wasn’t that far off. The Pelican lavishly gave its guests what they needed, and in return, seductively extracted what it required. The hotel was counterpointed by “The Flaming Sword Inn”, a secluded five star restaurant which was part of the sights and places that, according to the locals, never were, never had been and didn’t exist.

Inside the hidden passages that honeycombed the hotel, an ancient evil brooded, savoring the tastes of deceit and deception exuding from the unsuspecting guests. Or were they really guests at all? Why are the vacationers more tired now than when they checked in? Would they ever be able to arouse themselves to check out, or was that actually an option?

Come on vacation with Josh & Jennifer and Charles & Anne. Fight the feeling that you may be losing your mind when local residents tell you that places you have seen and people you have met do not and could not exist.

And for the piece de resistance – undergo the most sensual, animalistic, erotic experience of your life.

Hopefully, you will survive the experience.

Two couples arrive to enjoy a vacation in their own ways. Each sees the world around them differently, thinks about what they see uniquely. But the constant around them hides something unexpected. The truth behind that which is hidden is beyond any of their understandings.

The summary of this work, as long and detailed as it is, suggests there is an aspect of erotica within the pages. There is, though it is fleeting and short, but then the focus isn’t on the erotica so much as it is upon following the main characters as the story is told. The telling of those stories, the experiences they have, sets out the foundation of what is a complex and interesting mystery to untangle.

Discovering why things happen, how events are made to fall into place, was a delight and I enjoyed the time spent by the author in developing the characters, telling the story and making the pieces fit together well. The clues are spread out and when the reasons come into play, some of them were quite a surprise as well.

There is an appearance of what can be described as a succubus/incubus in this work, but that moment is very short, leading towards the climax of the story. The hints are there, in many ways, but to say for certainty they are is somewhat debatable, regardless of the means they use. They appear, for the most part, to be window dressing for the core of the work, allowing threads to be closed, stories pointed in certain ways.

As a mystery, this work tells that story well in a captivating way. But this isn’t a story that has a focus upon succubi or incubi. That said, the writing is very good, the characters have clear and strong voices and I enjoyed the work for that most of all. I would have liked more of the one character lurking in the shadows throughout most of the story, to know how they changed, why they made the choices they did at a critical point in the telling.

Four out of five pitchforks.

This is a work of thought, of putting the pieces together and coming to understand before the ending arrives. That was interesting to me, the little bit of suggested succubus/incubus appearing was interesting as well. This isn’t a work of erotica, nor really is it meant to be so. The mystery is lovely, the story has some quirks, but all in all something which is unique.

 

Tera

Nov 29 2016

A Review of The Vampire and the Succubus: A Sexy Supernatural Encounter by Sabine Bellerose

The Vampire and the Succubus: A Sexy Supernatural Encounter by Sabine Bellerose

The Vampire and the Succubus: A Sexy Supernatural Encounter by Sabine Bellerose

One of the things that always bothers me about some very short stories is that they offer some interesting ideas and characters, but don’t quite deliver. They are in a rush towards the erotica and leave behind the storytelling to a point.

Giving detail about a character, telling about their lives, those around them is a very good hook. The problem comes when the hook doesn’t pay off in the end. Suggesting an outcome is one thing, revealing it quite another. It’s very difficult to be able to do both well in a handful of pages.

  • Title: The Vampire and the Succubus: A Sexy Supernatural Encounter
  • Author: Sabine Bellerose
  • Length: 14 Pages
  • ASIN: B01I673JYW
  • Publishing Date: July 8, 2016
  • This work at Amazon.com

It is the story of:

Iris is a very special type of witch–one with demon blood in her veins. As a succubus, her spells sometimes require a very special, sexy ingredient–and she intends to get it from the tall, dark, and handsome vampire she meets at the club.

Cameron barely needs his vampire “glamour” to subdue his prey, but he’ll be turning it on full force tonight–he’s determined to be the one who’s going to seduce her, not the other way around. Seducing a succubus is the type of challenge he hasn’t had in centuries.

Whichever one of them succeeds at earning the sexy submission of the other, it’s going to be one steamy encounter.

Iris is a witch and she’s also partly a succubus. Being of two natures, it’s been hard on her. But a promise from her coven leads to Iris being on the prowl for a lover. Cameron seems a good catch, but when a vampire and a succubus collide in a battle of dominance, who wins and who loses. Are they both the same?

The work seems to offer a lot of promise in the beginning in that Iris is interesting, her relationship with her coven brings some conflict. While Iris is partly a succubus, the only aspects that appear are her physical beauty and a talent to bring out lust in others. Beyond that, her succubus aspect is only a means to push the story towards the erotica, not really delving into things more than need be to draw the two main characters together.

Iris seems a bit overcome by being a succubus in that she’s a bit hard to like, mainly from her overall attitude of ‘better’ than most. Still, she is young and has a lot to learn. Against Iris is Cameron, a vampire of some age, one that has a great deal of power. He’s a bit aloof, almost as much as Iris is overall, seems to know everything about everything.

There is a connection between the two characters, but that’s quickly pushed aside for the contest that comes between them, to see who falls to whom. It’s fairly clear who will win early on and the suspense really doesn’t develop well I thought. There’s not much in the way of character development, there’s not all that much personality in the characters themselves. The erotica is a bit pornish as a whole as a result.

I just didn’t really find myself caring about either Iris or Cameron overall. The emotional aspects of both seem to be missing somehow. There’s something missing in how they speak, think and act. The story offered at the beginning doesn’t really develop, the erotica doesn’t have a lot of heat, and the buildup to the climax is rushed. One that moment comes, the mad rush to the ending follows and it just left me frustrated.

Heat is good, passion is fine. The problem is heat without fire and passion without meaning. I would have liked more time spent in developing Iris and Cameron as characters, to flesh them out more and to make them fuller than they are. There’s something missing, as I have said. I can only explain it as being simply not that interested in either Iris or Cameron and I should have been.

Two and a half out of five pitchforks.

The work just reads as being rather superficial. The story behind Iris is interesting, her coven more so. But then there’s a rush to get Iris into bed with Cameron. I just didn’t find that as hot as it could have been. There is a story here, which the author seems to suggest will lead to something more, sometime. Perhaps when that happens there will be more story, more development of the characters and the time taken to do so.

Coming in a rush leads to a story that’s more porn than erotica, more pamphlet than tale. There is a story here, it needs time to come out and play.

 

Tera

Nov 28 2016

The Second Coming – Part VI By TeraS

Continuing with The Second Coming this week on the Tale; I’m not done; there’s still some ways to go if, I’m honest with myself. I feel like rushing to the ending wouldn’t be fair to the characters or the story, so we move on a little further this time and, perhaps, something will come … at least there is the certainty that someone will—cum that is.

If you’d like to read the prior five parts of this story, you can find them here on the Tale.

 

The Second Coming
Part VI
By TeraS

 

The roses weren’t going to tend to themselves.

They grew wildly, given the chance to do so, spreading themselves over the land, claiming it all for themselves. The similarities weren’t lost to the man holding a pair of gardening shears and examining the plants. Looking over the plot where the roses grew, his thoughts passed back in time.

He remembered the first time he saw her, how smitten he was, how foolish he had been: so awkward, but then they’d both been fish out of water. A small smile played upon his lips as he remembered her gasp of delight when he presented the box of chocolates. A peace offering, really: he’d been too pushy, and she’d made sure to let him know how miffed she was. Cleo had, as he remembered, a lovely expression when she was miffed.

A particular branch caught his attention, off towards the low, wrought-iron fence that marked the boundary of the churchyard over which he was the guardian. That thought made his smile wane, becoming a bit thinner as he approached the withering vine. He still, after all of this time, hadn’t come to terms with the past, with not being able to see Cleo, not being able to tell her the truth.

Settling in to tend to the garden, to shape the roses to a purpose to which they were not naturally accustomed, his thoughts were taken again to that terrible night. The moment they’d shared, finding secrets never meant to be unearthed; how everything had changed in an instant for them both; how the truth still hurt and always would until the moment came. He hoped he would be prepared.

His hands were guiding the shears towards the vine that needed to be pruned, to help what remained to blossom, to grow, to form into what he needed it to be. The shadow that fell over the sun brought an uncontrolled shiver. The light dimmed around him, the roses of red becoming brighter in the darkness.

The shiver was then replaced by a heat he hadn’t felt since that night. A wash of lust passed over, making him hard, diverting his attention for a moment, the shears drawing away. His body flushed, his muscles tensed, and his eyes narrowed. Gathering himself, he drew his hand through his close-cropped sandy brown hair, his thoughts being taken to the past, out of his control. Flashes of memory came with nowhere to hide: Cleo being turned from the woman he’d loved into a creature with an entirely different purpose; praying for help, but finding that didn’t help him; not resisting when what happened to her befell him, as well. Looking down into her black eyes, her lips suckling his cock, he threw her over a crate, driving himself into her slickness, her screams of delight in being used driving him onwards. He was consumed with her, with pushing her over the edge, to make her, to make them both, the vessels they were destined to be. The scream of frustration, pressing her to reveal where it was, her confusion, then her keening need to be fucked again, all shattered when the moment passed with their destiny unfulfilled, seeing her lying in the dust, he towering over her. The look in her eyes was one of disgust, knowing that whatever they’d had was forever lost.

A deep breath took the memories away. The shadow was still over him, the heat still gnawing at his shaft. He’d felt this before, he knew, intimately, why this was happening. A lesser man would have cried out, screamed for release. He wouldn’t, not for her.

“How do your roses grow?”

His hand clutched the shears tightly at the sound of her voice. It was her, there was no mistake. He’d heard her laugh, cry out, scream in need. More than that, more than anything any other soul on the planet could understand, he knew her intimately. His reply was, surprisingly, unemotional: “Cléophée.”

“That’s all? Nothing else?”

He didn’t dare to look at her. He’d fall to her, be her plaything in a moment. His eyes remained on the roses even knowing that she was so close by. He thought he could feel her breath on the back of his neck, and was waiting for her fingers to clutch at his hair.

“Aren’t you going to come here and say hello?”

Her damned voice gave him strength. She wasn’t beside him. The shears snipped away in reply; he said nothing, knowing that her eyes were upon him, and he knew, intimately what he would see …

… her mane of red hair most of all.

“Why so shy? You fucked me, didn’t you? I remember you ramming your delightfully long and thick cock into my cunt, how you roared as you dug your nails into my ass.”

His hands trembled, slightly, but that wasn’t reflected in his voice: “I’ve had better.” The reply would, he knew, anger her, but he didn’t care. If she was going to take him, in the middle of the day, he wasn’t going to bend easily.

The chuckle was evil: “I’ve had you before. You’ll be mine again.”

“Hungry thing, aren’t you?”

Her words were wrapped in a purr of delight: “I’m starving.”

The shears were poised to cut as he wondered: “How’s Mandy?”

The growl was like nothing he’d heard before, but he pressed on regardless. The shears made a loud noise as he cut through the stem: “What’s that? Is the powerful Cléophée not getting her way? What a shame.”

“You both will be mine. I’ll have your cock and her cunt.”

Finally, he turned to look at her. She wasn’t as close as he had thought, even if her voice seemed like it was hovering over his shoulder. The object of his past desires had positioned herself on the other side of the fence, her hands trembling as she gripped the iron. He half expected to see Cleo, but instead he was greeted by the sight that had entranced him in the catacombs.

The attraction was there. He felt her claws digging into his soul. His shaft throbbed in desire for her. His breath caught at her display to tempt him. She’d forsaken the look he’d known for one of a woman in heat: flaming red hair dancing over her shoulders, her sexuality enhanced by the red leather dress she wore. He couldn’t ignore her cleavage, overlook the come-fuck-me heels, or miss the slit that allowed a glimpse of her bald sex as it glistened. She was sex incarnate, he couldn’t deny that.

“Cum to me …”

The words echoed within, plucking at the love he had for Cleo and the lust he had for Cleophée. He thought both to be buried away, but now her power blew upon the embers, a spark soon to be leading to a flame once more. The shears fell to the grass as he stood and turned towards her. Black eyes greeted him, her arms outstretched, beckoning to envelope him within her clutches.

They stood there, facing each other, neither moving. Then he opened his arms in a mirror of her own: “Take me, Cléophée.”

He saw the amusement on her lips, he watched as she walked along the fence, turning towards the cobblestone path which led onto the grounds. Her smile of anticipation turned to one of confusion suddenly. Her snarl broke him from the trance: “Fuck you.

There was a moment of confusion, not understanding why the vision of lust was enraged. He called out to her: “What’s wrong? Come here and take me!”

She remained there, her hair swirling around her, the points of her horns appearing in shadow as her hair whipped around, daggers from her eyes being thrown at him. Then she turned on one heel and stalked away: “You can’t resist me forever!

He didn’t look away until she’d disappeared around a corner, her power over him fading away slowly. Turning back to the roses, the sight of having pruned away the wrong vine made him sigh: “Never could, Cleo … You have me forever.”

The apartment was empty and silent, the events of the preceding day the source of some idle commentary from the dwellers of the complex. It was a shame that the nice young woman that lived there had suffered that awful gas leak, though it was a lucky thing that she, and the young man that had been visiting her, were rescued before things had taken a turn for the worst. Who could know what terrible things might have happened if they weren’t visited by those two lovely sisters, especially the one who had the most amazingly brilliant red hair.

It was a shame that one of the sisters had been overcome by the fumes, the other having to make the call for help. There had been some gossip about what had been found within the apartment, but representatives of the local diocese had rebuffed such idle thoughts. After all, it was not the business of others to know what someone did within their own home, regardless of how kinky that might well be, or what some might make of it.

A mote of dust was caught in a sunbeam, hovering over an old, well-worn couch as the apartment door swung open with a slight creak. A slim hand with chewed-on nails plucked a note that was taped to the door as its owner sighed: “Well, that was fun.”

Amber had come home, Ben tagging along close behind her, a hurt look in his eyes: “It wasn’t that bad, was it?”

Reading the note, then setting it aside, she rolled her eyes: “No. You were a gentleman.”

“Then, please, tell me what’s wrong.”

She threw her thin shawl over one of the chairs and sighed: “Nothing.”

Feeling him touch her hand was a comfort. So many days lost, her memories missing. They’d said that it was caused by the gas leak, but something didn’t sit right with her. It felt like something was missing, like a part of her wasn’t fitted into place exactly right.

“How long have we known each other?”

Idly looking at the ceiling, she had to think about that for a moment or two. So many of her memories were all jumbled up, confused, and it was hard to focus sometimes. Why she was having odd thoughts at times about sex was a concern: “Couple of years now? I still don’t know why you asked me out for coffee.”

Ben had a really bashful smile: “That’s easy. You’re the cutest woman at the museum.”

It was a derisive snort: “I’m the only woman there.”

“Therefore, the cutest one … right?”

She was going to make a snide reply when her eyes fell upon her bed and she had a vision of being on top of Ben, her nails digging into his shoulders, riding him, fucking him, screaming …

A squeeze of her hand snapped her back: “Hey, you okay?”

The tone of her voice told more than her reply did: “I’m okay … I … just feel like there’s something that I’ve forgotten and I don’t know what it is.”

Ben held her, trying to comfort her, assure her that things would be okay. Even as he did so, she couldn’t help the flashes of fantasy that came, things she’d never actually do, but which were flushing her cheeks.

“I’m not leaving, so you’re going to have to deal with having me around.”

For the first time that day, she giggled: “You’re going to have to learn to cook.”

“I am perfectly capable of burning water.”

Leaning back, she nuzzled her shockingly white hair with its light red highlights against his cheek as he stood behind her: “How about tonight you try burning the grilled cheese?”

Amber felt his hands move lower, cupping over her navel: “You gonna teach me?”

Another vision flashed, of standing over him, cupping his chin with her long red nails, dominating him, her slave, her property. She blinked, her grey eyes confused, the tone of her voice heated: “Oh … I could.”

She felt him tense, his body hot against her own, pressing tighter, feeling his hardness pressing into her ass. Her own need made her push back against him, rubbing herself against him, what she wanted not being disguised at all.

His voice cracked: “Amber …”

It was a needful moan: “Ben … gawd, I love you, too.”

A knock on the door shook them both out of the moment. The spell broken, the need for each other still burning within as they looked into each other’s eyes. Amber called out: “One sec! Hang on!”

In a lower voice she whispered: “I’ll get rid of whoever it is, then I want dessert before dinner.”

Turning away from Ben, Amber was treated to his embarrassed and yet needful smile as she walked across the room to the door. Opening the door, she found a woman with ash-brown hair standing outside. Rather pleasant looking, dressed conservatively, her overall appearance and manner seemed to suggest she was there on business.

Amber was a bit put off by her. She was a knock-out in spite of what she was wearing, and a little bit of jealousy crept into her mood. The woman was beautiful, there was no question of that, and she found herself comparing herself once again to a woman that was more than she was.

“Can I help you …?”

The woman’s brown-green eyes sparkled as she offered her hand in greeting: “Hello! I’m Sister Cléophée, I believe you were expecting me?

The revelation of who this was snapped Amber out of her jealously and she managed to smile, recalling the note she’d found on the door: “Of course, please, do come in!”

As she entered, Amber marveled at the red highlights in the older woman’s hair before closing the door behind her.

“What brings you by, Sister?”

There was something about the visitor’s voice as she answered the question. It sounded almost like she had an orgasm: “A book.

Elsewhere, if someone had been passing by a particular hotel room at that moment, they’d be surprised by the language that a woman was using. There was a stream of expletives that would make a sailor blush coming from behind the thin door separating the room from the hallway beyond, a torrent of anger which was clearly meant for one particular target of that woman’s ire.

Mandy was in fine form at that moment, and she wasn’t happy about that in the slightest. She’d only really been this upset when a particularly obstinate woman in the church hierarchy had sent a note to Cleo’s office, to inform her that her services were no longer needed. Once she had confronted her privately with a particularly inspired tongue-lashing, the woman had changed her tone completely. Oddly, whenever they’d encountered each other since, they’d never talked, but Mandy had caught a look of fear in the bureaucrat’s eyes from afar. Somehow that rather pleased the redhead whenever it happened. But at the moment she was anything but pleased: “Shit. Fucking hell! Dammit!”

Cléophée and her pet made sure she wasn’t going to get away. The bindings weren’t the usual bondage gear Mandy had encountered long ago, in a past she’d never talked about with Cleo—but then she’d never asked about tying her up and having her way with her, either.

A thought came as she looked at the slut lying there and fingering herself: could this possibly work? Rolling over onto her side, she looked at the mindless pet still moaning out for her Mistress. The edge in Mandy’s voice was palatable: “On your knees, pet!”

She didn’t expect the blissed-out redhead to obey—after all, she was the thrall of a succubus. However, when the tattooed slut struggled to her knees, Mandy whispered a quiet prayer in thanks for Cléophée’s mistake.

The nun couldn’t help the gasp as the thrall’s white eyes bore into her own from across the carpet. The dripping arousal which made up her existence now came in two needful words: “I obey.” She didn’t desire to be commanded, it was all she was: a blank soul with no purpose save for what was given, dripping from the opportunity to obey.

“Good, pet, very … very good.”

The keening purr of delight in being praised was matched by the thrusting out of her chest, displaying her bound nipples and offering them in submission. None of that was doing Mandy any good, however: “Such a needy cunt, all wet and empty.”

The thrall didn’t say a word, continuing to moan as her legs slid wide, opening her thighs, offering her snatch in submission, begging to be touched, fondled, played with. Mandy bit her lip, pushing aside her dislike for this woman, that smile that was just that side of ick. She had to push past that, there wasn’t a choice. The redhead needed her, even if that meant doing something she didn’t want to: “Cunts like you need to be on their knees, being fucked and fucked hard.

The words sunk into the toy; she acted on them instantly, ass in the air, legs wide, her sex open, dripping, waiting to be used. Her head, on the carpet, was turned towards Mandy, and there was a mournful wail of need within her cry. Mandy had her on the hook, now to see if she could reel her in: “Lick my heels, you slut.”

The once-blonde must have been submissive before she’d encountered the succubus. There was no hesitation, her tongue being drawn over Mandy’s come-fuck-me heels, the joyful whimper of obedience echoing in the room. Something in that moan told Mandy she was, for the moment, in control, and she took the risk: “Unbind me cunt. Now!

The thrall, bound eternally, didn’t hesitate to release the bindings on Mandy’s legs. Rolling over, Mandy waited for her arms to be released,

but nothing happened. Mandy thought it was all in vain, that she’d never been in control. Then she felt a long tongue licking along the inside of her thigh and nails toying at her microskirt, tugging it up, Mandy’s anger blossomed again as that tongue danced over her folds, flicking over her clit.

“You cunt! You disobedient slut! Unbind me NOW! You need to be punished!

It was less than a minute before the temporary domme was freed, then she turned over to confront Cléophée’s whore. What she found was the redhead thrall laying on the carpet, her arms behind her, waiting to be bound and punished. Mandy’s past came back in a rush, the smile on her lips nothing like she’d shown in ages. Her hand found one of the straps that had been binding her, and she looped it around her right hand, raising it into the air before striking with it like a strap: “Whore! Slut! Worthless bitch!

Each word she screamed was followed by the crack of leather against bare skin, a scream of pleasure in the room. The disobedient fucktoy needed to be taught a lesson and Mandy was the one to give it to …

… her hand froze, about to strike once more in anger. She threw the strap aside: “Goddess, no.”

The room was silent, save for the pleading moans of terror and joy Cléophée’s pet wailed at her. Mandy saw the book on the other side of the room, a dark red glow coming from its pages and her eyes narrowed: “Fuck … you.”

Mandy didn’t have a choice, there was only one thing to do and she needed to act. It didn’t take long for her to bind her victim, hands bound over her ass, her legs bent so that her heels were almost touching her ass. Looking in Cleo’s case, she found a vibrator and turned it on.

The slut’s reaction of spreading her legs wide and humping the floor made it clear what she wanted. Mandy wasn’t exactly gentle as she slid the vibe deep and then pulled the last strap tight, locking the toy into place: “Good pet. Now, tell me where Mistress went.”

They were the first words she’d spoken since Cléophée’s departure: “Gathering! Mistress is taking what is heeerrssssss!”

“Who are you talking about?”

The answer came as she howled for release: “Her vessel and her toy!”

It hit Mandy like a ton of bricks, and she responded in disbelief: “Fuck me!”

Mandy didn’t care after that moment, all that mattered was grabbing the book and getting the hell out of there. The sounds of the pet’s cries followed Mandy as she ran out the door and down the hallway to the elevator. Amber and Ben were in danger, she had to try to stop Cléophée. She’d promised Cleo she would.

As she rode the elevator, her eyes scanned the book as the pages were turned. The text made her eyes water, the smell of sulphur was overwhelming, but it didn’t matter. There had to be an answer, she just needed to find it, or keep it out of Cléophée’s hands. Turning the book to a folded over page she looked at the image revealed there in disbelief.

“Goddess!”

Something changed in the apartment when Sister Cléophée entered. There was a change in the air, Amber’s dislike for their visitor evaporated, Ben became very helpful, deferring to Amber and their guest. Amber couldn’t quite figure out what was going on, but didn’t focus on that as their visitor settled into a chair. Confused, Amber asked: “A … book?”

The answer seemed to come from everywhere in the room: “A … very special … book.

Something tugged at Amber’s memories: “I …”

Something pushed at Ben’s thoughts: “You …”

Cléophée purred in delight: “Yesssssss …

Nov 27 2016

A Review of Blessed by an Incubus by Christopher Maldini

Blessed by an Incubus by Christopher Maldini

Blessed by an Incubus by Christopher Maldini

Sometimes a story needs a hook, a twist, something to turn the story a little sideways from what it seemed to be. Sometimes that works, sometimes it doesn’t quite manage. A lot of that can be influenced by the characters themselves. Their voice, whether internal monologue or dialogue, can take heat from a story, or slow things to a crawl. Either is a good thing and avoiding that can be difficult as a whole.

Sometimes being oversexed means your fantasies get in the way of your life. Sometimes it means that the universe wants to teach you a lesson. It isn’t always a question of knowing what’s real, but rather being able to deal with one’s own sexuality.

  • Title: Blessed by an Incubus
  • Author: Christopher Maldini
  • Length: 55 Pages
  • ASIN: B01IAGHBFC
  • Publishing Date: July 10, 2016
  • This work at Amazon.com

The work is described as:

Raised in a strict Catholic household, Diane isn’t sure if she truly believes in God, but the thing that keeps her in perfect attendance at church every week is the insatiable lust she has for her Priest.

Father Paul, a clean shaven, compassionate and humble man, modestly hiding his muscularly chiseled body under his cassock and vestments, pays a private visit to her apartment after she complains of frequent sexual attacks from an alleged incubus; a dark spirit which forces itself upon her at night. Coincidentally, these demonic encounters began just after Diane black mailed her boss.

Whether the attacks are real or imagined, Father Paul’s visit unexpectedly provides an opportunity for Diane to fulfill her lustful fantasies with her Priest.

Diane has problems, some are from where she works, some come from her fantasies about a certain desire she has, and some come from an incubus that is haunting her. Diane needs a solution and perhaps she can find solace in her preacher. But then, the incubus has similar thoughts as well.

The story focuses on Diane and her fixation upon Paul which is, to be quite honest, really over the top and more than just a little bit bizarre. Most of that comes from the constant internal monologue that Diane has with herself and with the reader. The tone, overall, seems to be close to a monotone, a singular mindset upon imagining all of the things that she wants to do with him and what she believes he would do to her.

That theme exists on almost every page, and when it isn’t totally at the fore, then Diane’s hyper sexual needs are described. There are events described where, in the most uncomfortable of situations, Diane’s thoughts cannot help but slip into sexual fantasies. Really, if one didn’t know better, Diane could very well be a succubus, but she isn’t.

There is an incubus in this work, who is never named, really never appears fully. There are suggestions of what he might look like, what he wants, where he comes from and why he is haunting Diane, but it isn’t a story really told. The incubus is a means to an end, a direction for Diane to be taken in, over and over again. Beyond that there’s really not much in the way of character or development for him, not even giving him a name, which was disappointing.

The erotica is a series of hot flashes, some really very good which do mix into the plot and story well. The problem comes in the jarring shift from the moments of passion to the long periods on consideration, reflection, and need that Diane experiences. The heat is there, clearly so, perhaps a bit over the top at times. The issues just comes back to Diane’s monologuing which just took the heat away.

The work ends in a twist which wasn’t unexpected. It was a little disappointing in that I don’t think it needed to be drawn out as it was. Beyond the revelation, the ending is abrupt, leaving me wondering what happens next to Diane, what her life it like, and what comes next… other than her of course.

I would have liked more told about the incubus, about the deal struck. It would have been nice to have an ending that wasn’t quite so murky, even if it was only to suggest something of what might happen. An open ended conclusion is fine and it makes some sense here. Most of all, Diane’s monologuing needs more emotion, more power. Her thoughts seem so muted against her personality and that left something behind not told.

Three and a half out of five pitchforks.

The twist in the story was a bit telegraphed early on, some of the hints were really strong as a whole. I think the almost non-stop internal monologue from Diane hurt the story to an extent. I would have liked more certainty in the ending, a bit more explanation about what exactly happened, and a name for the incubus would have been nice too. There is heat, there’s no question, but somehow Diane’s constant reflections get in the way and they really shouldn’t have.

 

Tera

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