May 20 2011

It’s Sophie the Succubus’ Weekend…

This weekend, it actually started yesterday, is the annual Reaper Minatures Convention weekend, this year being held in Texas and you can find more information on that here on their page if you are in the Forth Worth area and want to attend it…

Now for those that do not know, the company mascot is named Sophie, and she is a Succubus.  And yes, she does have horns and a tail in most of her incarnations as well as wings and is, as she should be as a Succubus, a sexy thing indeed…

One of the things they offer each year is art of Sophie that appears on posters and T-shirts and son on and this year’s art I think is really interesting…

I think it’s sort of a Succubus meets Raider of the Lost Ark mashup thing and the art is just tremendous!

The line art:

Reapercon2011 Sophie line art by Wayne Reynolds

And the finished poster artwork:

Color Reapercon Poster Art by Wayne Reynolds

You can click on either one of these and see a larger version if you’d like one.

I have to admit that I do miss her having horns and a tail in this art… Succubi should really have those, but I suppose that the bat-like wings she still has sort of reflects that part of who she is…

I still think that her tail should be there and holding some sort of treasure or something…

Still, it is a lovely action image of Sophie and I am sure that those that attend the convention will enjoy the art!

 

Tera

May 19 2011

Succubi Image of the Week 177

Time for some anime cuteness for a Succubus of the week on the Tale… Anime Succubi are, after all, generally drawn to be cute and this is no exception to that rule…

Clicking on the image here will send you to a larger version of it as usual…

Again, this is another one of those images that I have no idea of the artist nor who this is supposed to be and so, as always, if you have an idea, please leave a comment?

I think she has a lovely Succubus tail, the heart shaped ones I think are always lovely to see. She seems to be slightly embarrassed which just adds to the cute of her I think as well. She might be a little over endowed, but then a lot of the anime Succubi are drawn like that…

Just a lovely lovely work I think and I would love to know who’s work this is…

Perhaps they made more?

I can hope…

Tera

May 18 2011

A Sorceress is not a Succubus…

I think that some costume designers are mixing up their myths again. As far as I can see, just because Sorceress and Succubus start with the same letter does not make them equal to, nor connected with each other.

Case in point is this costume that I came across this week…

This is described as being a Sexy Devil Sorceress Costume. Take that for what that’s worth really…

It comes with the red and black dress, a waist cinch, the tail the model is holding in her hand, and a horn headpiece. The set does not include the shoes they show as always, and this sells for about $27 US.

I just don’t like this at all. The horns are not that wonderful, the tail is very flimsy and ugly looking really… I’m sure that one wrong move and that is gone.

I’m also not happy with the overall look of the costume. It seems like they took a costume for a gypsy and  tossed horns into the package and sewed a tail on it.

In other words where is the Succubus or Sorceress in this anyway?

I would expect, or at least hope, that some effort would be put into the idea, well honestly, either idea. But mixing the two concepts in one costume?

For that matter, if she is partially a Sorceress, then how is that present in this costume anyway? I can’t see anything that would seem to fit that idea…

I can’t find anything to like in this to be honest. The idea is wrong, the look is wrong, the tail is wrong…

I don’t think I need to rant further on it really do I?

This gets a half pitchfork out of five.

Why the half?

Honestly I’m not sure. Perhaps I just don’t want to be too cruel?

Tera

May 17 2011

Temptations 112

Perhaps one of the most… odd… things about the Queen of the Succubi is her tendency to occasionally take the right answer when given and turn that on its head…

Probably more than she should really…

_________________

Temptations 112

By TeraS and Jay

Jay nodded as she talked about the circle of power and looked about to identify as much of it as he could. Now that his eyes were opened to what to look for, he was able to pick out the raised stones that marked the circle, and thought he spied faint, eldritch markings upon them. “Yes,” he murmured. “I begin to see, now.”

As she placed his hand against her skin, his lips parted and he sucked in a quick breath, eyes widening minutely. A faint flush brushed his skin, and his hand involuntarily cupped her cheekbone. When she lowered his hand away, a faint tingling remained in his palm and lingered deliciously.

Jay listened closely as she spoke, his head nodding slightly in silent assent.

“Patience may not be a trait of the young, but I am no longer as young as I once was.” A shadow seemed to cross his face as he said this, as of an old wound once sharp but now a dull throb. His head tilted slightly as he continued. “I think you will find more steel in my character than fire.”

At this, he turned and took a step away. His hand rose to his mouth as he blew out a long, slow breath. After a moment’s thought, he whirled around again. “But I know what you mean when you speak of questions.” His eyes had become vibrant, alight with intensity and focus. “There are so many questions that cannot be answered. Why does the veil between sleeping and waking make me feel deafened and blind when I awake? Why do the faint snatches of dream tell me there is something more before they fade away into mist? Why is it that I am utterly convinced that five senses is far too few too see the rainbow in all its splendor?”

Jay half-turned to his left and his eyes focused on one of the ancient stones. “How is it that when I pause on the threshold of dreaming and waking, a door seems to appear in a direction that defies space and time? And how is it that when I reach for that door, all I can touch is an empty hole for a key that I miss with all my heart?”

“And one other question. One final, burning question that sears me with its urgency.” Now his head lifted, and his eyes regarded the cold stars as they wheeled overhead. “But alas, though the desire for the answer remains, the question is … forgotten. Torn asunder, and I know it not.”

He turned his head again and regarded his visitor with inquiring eyes. “So tell me, Bliss. Are you the answerer of riddles? Can you draw a line that neither remains straight, nor turns? Are you such a creature that you can see the door that has neither frame nor hinge but is nonetheless closed?” He locked eyes and his voice lowered to a whisper. “Do you know the door of which I speak?”

 

 

She allowed a wistful smile, “Perhaps my one fault dear warrior is that I cannot simply answer a question for the sake of answering it… Nay, for that would be unfair to the one asking would it not be? And in truth, and you know this, you would not accept the answer on a silver platter that you would rather find on your own… or an answer given by… as they say… a silver tongued devil is that not true?”

The wind blew her wrap around her legs a bit and then, crossing her arms, raised a single finger to point past him over his right shoulder, “But they would know would they not?”

When he dared to look behind him, he would find standing there four men in silver armour of a forgotten age, shadowy, ethereal forms that shimmered and seemed to be on the edge of being torn apart by the breezes around them. It was not clear whether these were spirits of the glen, ghosts of the past, or a moment in time that she had pulled from the past for him.

Plates of metal covered their chests, back, arms, and legs. A bucket like helmet protected their heads and a hinged metal visor to covered their faces. But in spite of that, he would be able to see the glint of eyes regarding him and examining him closely.

Each of them, save one, held a broadsword in their hands, pointed to the ground and at rest. But one knight in the lead held a shield in his right hand, to the side, where he could not see the markings upon it. But all seemed to looking towards him with intent and purpose… whatever that might be.

But they were there unmoving and still, caught for the moment here and yet not here with them both.

Her tail moved behind her slowly like a cat’s as she asked, “Do they open thoughts within you warrior or are they nothing but symbols of the past that mean little to the here and now… Or are they that door you seek?”

“And do you dare to pass through that door now or shame yourself and them forever more?”

_________________

A hard choice to come that might be the answer, or just bring more questions…

We’ll see which.

Tera

May 16 2011

Storm Clouds 123 – An ongoing Succubi Story

This is the continuing story of the Succubi called Storm Clouds…

If you want to read previous chapters, please click the link in the Tale header at the top of the page marked Storm Clouds or click here...

Very little added this week… Real life problems that have to be taken care of first and always… But some edits with thanks to my heart as always for all he does for me…

_______________________

Storm Clouds 123

Chapter 19

By TeraS

“Step back, Camilla. I can’t let you hurt her.”

The answer to that came in a cruel smile and the words, “I haven’t hurt her yet, Dick. Oh, she wants it and loves it, though. She has a fantasy of having her ass whipped until she can’t sit down for a week. You know that dream makes her dripping wet every night?

Tom watched as Camilla, in Ginger’s form, raised her right hand toward the ceiling and a long black riding crop appeared there.

“Camilla, stop. Think about what you’re doing. This isn’t you.”

Oh, but it’s her.

The whip came down hard on Ginger’s rear and a long red mark was left behind … but Ginger herself didn’t say a word. Not one. Tom was, to be blunt, uncomfortable with all of this. The sex part of it didn’t bother him, but the abuse? That was going against what he believed in.

“You’re going to have to stop, Camilla.”

No. This is what she wants, Dick. Not what I want or you want. Now, go and have a drink from the office bar or read a paper or watch, or wait outside. I don’t care because she doesn’t. All she knows is that the one person she can submit to is debasing her and making her be the person she is inside. A meek little fucktoy that needs a firm hand to guide her.

Tom wasn’t buying it and he moved towards Camilla, “Sorry, but you aren’t going to do this.” Tom didn’t want to pull his gun and use it on her. That was a last resort as far as he was concerned. He closed the distance and then took hold of Camilla’s wrist, stopping her from using the crop again.

She looked up at him and her eyes glowed green, “Thomas, please trust me on this. This is the fastest way to get what we need from her. Don’t interfere with what you see.”

Tom’s grip became a little firmer, “Abusing people is wrong, Camilla.”

“It is. But then she isn’t a person right now, and so she doesn’t qualify. Would you like to hear it from her own lips? Would that make it acceptable, then?”

Ginger’s voice was wrapped in need as she begged, “Slut has been a bad girl. She needs to be punished. Mistress has to punish Slut.”

“That makes it worse.”

Camilla’s tail wrapped itself around Ginger’s neck and tugged her close to one side, pushing Tom slightly as she moved. She took hold of Ginger’s hair again and pulled her face to look up at her, “Good Slut. You can lick my shoes.

There was no delay from when Camilla let go to when Ginger was on her hands and knees doing exactly that and mewling in pleasure from it.

Tom’s disgust with the whole situation came to a boil, and he shoved Camilla’s hand away from him. He turned away from the scene and moved towards the door, pausing there as he gripped the door handle, “Tell me something, Camilla. Is this what succubi do? Hurt and harm others? Are you going to suck away her soul next and kill her?”

To his surprise Camilla answered that with, “There is a difference between what you see and what there is, Tom. Please, look back.”

He did, and he saw Camilla as he had always known her, sitting on the chair, but with Ginger still on the floor in front of her degrading herself. Camilla’s tail was wrapped around Ginger’s neck directing her movements.

“If someone gave you your heart’s desire, wouldn’t you take advantage of it? This is what she wants, Thomas, and neither you nor I have the right to judge her. She needs this, has needed it for some time now. She’ll gladly answer anything for this to happen without hesitation.”

“I don’t like this, Camilla. Tell me something: do you like it?”

Camilla didn’t hesitate, “No. But that doesn’t matter, does it? Some sacrifices have to be made to get the answers we need.”

Then the scene shifted again to what it had been moments before, a slave groveling at the feet of a cruel Mistress.

Get the point, Dick?

Tom nodded slightly–“Still doesn’t mean that I have to like it”–and left the office, shutting the door behind him.

Camilla was silent for a time after Tom left. It was difficult to explain the world that she lived in to humans. Tom had managed to accept most of it, but this part of being a succubi or an incubi, the part of it where realities shifted and sometimes not for the best, was a problem. The problem in carrying it out came in getting too involved in the fantasy and having that stay with you when the moment was gone. Camilla knew already that she was going to feel dirty after it was all over, but she tempered that disgust with the knowledge that it might, just might, get her the answers she needed.

She rubbed her free hand over the mark on Ginger’s ass, “Now, you worthless slut, you will answer every one of the questions asked. For every one you answer truthfully, I will reward you with another cropping that you need so badly … And, if you are very good, I’ll let you finally cum like the needful cunt you are.

Her hand came down hard, “Understood?”

The answer was just above a whisper and was filled with need: “Yesssss, Missstresss.”

Camila held the crop in the air and began asking her questions.

What do you know of the Succubi?

“They are what is wanted.”

Camilla paused at that answer. It didn’t sound like something that Ginger would say on her own, which was troubling. She took the crop and placed it lengthwise against Ginger’s folds, pressing it against the flesh, “Wanted for what, slut?”

“To be claimed again by those they no longer serve.”

It took a great deal of control for her not to grab Ginger by her collar, and she managed in a curt voice, “Who wants them?”

Ginger didn’t respond to that. Camilla placed one hand against Ginger’s cheek, a green glow appearing there and moments later Ginger began to shake and mewl, but didn’t speak. Camilla’s fingers stroked slowly, “Slut… I am going to take you to the edge of cumming. Your pussy is going to ache and your mind is going to splinter apart piece by piece until you answer my question. The sooner you do, the better it will be for you … Otherwise, I am going to leave you a mindless shell here on the floor and then, oh then I’m going to find Mary Ann and do the same thing to her, slut.”

The answer was barely a whisper, one that Camilla would have missed save for the ragged breath that was taken before the words came out: “Please. Mistress doesn’t know why.”

Camilla drew the crop up and down as she tried to make sense of what had been said. Mistress doesn’t know why? But at the moment, Camilla was the Mistress here, wasn’t she?

“Tell Mistress why she doesn’t know.”

“Mistress does what she is told to do, just like slut.”

The cold shiver of realization of what Ginger had been trying to say made her stand up and run for the door, leaving Ginger curled up in a ball on the floor, her fingers pumping frantically in and out of her sex trying to overcome the hold that Camilla had over her.

To Camilla’s horror she heard the sound of a gunshot outside the door and went into a panic. She shifted back into her normal form, save for her horns and tail, which still were visible as she drew open the door and shouted, “Thomas!”

Moments before, Tom had left the office and closed the door behind him. It really bothered him how Camilla could do this. He supposed that most of his misgivings were because he was very old school in his thinking about relationships and sex. It had always been his belief that you found the right person for the right reasons, acted honourably, loved her, married her, and then were happy together.

He didn’t understand why people would want to suffer or be abused by others. It just didn’t make sense when he first heard of it and today … well, that hadn’t changed all that much.

He looked over to where Mary Ann sat at her desk typing away at a computer. Ignoring her, he moved towards the leather chairs and sofa on the far side of the room, hoping to find a magazine that didn’t have artificially enhanced women on the cover but did have some real articles within the pages. Looking at the table there, he sighed a bit as, of course, the only things to be seen were the current and past issues of the company’s flagship magazine, and nothing more.

Giving up on that idea, he dropped into a chair facing the office he just left and looked over the lobby. Lots of mirrors around–probably for Ginger to preen in, he thought. The doors through which the goons had left were closed … and Mary Ann … she was suddenly standing to the right of him in that stupid schoolgirl outfit, a slightly vapid smile on her lips.

“Hello Mary Ann.”

“Hiya, ‘tective! You need something while you’re waitin’?”

“No, thanks. Nothing here that interests me.”

She had a hurt look for a moment and then traced a finger over the curves of her breasts that showed over the top of the white shirt that she was wearing, “Nothin’? Nothing at all?”

Tom closed his eyes and sighed, “Nope. You have nothing that I’m interested in.”

To his surprise, Mary Ann patted his hand, “Wells, if ya want something, let me know, okay?”

He didn’t open his eyes, but instead tried to make sense of everything that had happened so far: thoughts of possible reasons, ideas of who was on the list next. But then, for some reason, his thoughts turned to his past and the one woman he had ever truly loved. He found the image of her forming so very clearly in his thoughts; he could see her, almost smell her perfume …

Sitting up, he coughed for a moment, and then heard a voice …

“Are you having allergies again, Thomas?”

That voice. Tom opened his eyes and saw standing there a woman with pixie-cut brunette hair with some blonde in it, a button nose, the pink lips he remembered so very well, wearing a black off-the-shoulder dress, and he heard the voice that he thought was gone forever.

“Beth?”

“Hi, Thomas …”

It was her. Beth. And all of the feelings that he had kept bottled up inside for so long started seeping up again. He asked in a hurt tone, “How?”

“Don’t worry about it, Thomas. I’m here now and that’s all that matters, isn’t it?”

Tom found that it did matter, more than anything he had cared about in a long time. He got out of the chair and smiled almost stupidly, “Of course. I’ve missed you, honey …”

“I’ve missed you, too, Thomas.”

Her hands moved to straighten his collar: “You look good. Been looking after yourself?”

Tom found her voice soothing, and having her there just made the tension in his mind and body vanish, leaving only her voice as the one thing that mattered at that moment to him.

“No. Been missing you and … why did you have to go?”

“I’m here now, so you can forget about that, can’t you?”

Tom felt a little fuzzy then, like his thoughts weren’t connecting properly, like there was something that he should be remembering about Beth, but which wouldn’t connect in his mind. All he could do was listen to her voice and nod on occasion to her words.

“Why don’t you tell me what you are doing here, Thomas. Why are you and Camilla here?”

“Looking into a murder, but you don’t care about that.”

“Oh but I do, Thomas, I really do. Tell me about it.”

She slipped into his arms and for a moment he enjoyed having Beth in his arms again. It felt right. Just like the very first time he held her and they spent the night … together?

Tom’s eyes widened as he held her close and realized something. Beth couldn’t possibly know who Camilla was. That meant she couldn’t possibly be here. That meant … this wasn’t Beth.

His thoughts cleared enough for him to ask as he looked at her again, “How do you know Camilla?”

There was a look of confusion from her, “You introduced us? Remember? I’ve known her for years!”

That shook him from the stupor he was in and he turned away from her, “You’re not making any sense, Beth. Something’s wrong.”

She spun him back around to face her, her voice becoming more insistent, “You … introduced … us … Thomas.”

A wave of nausea came over him with her words and he closed his eyes to get that under control. The nausea went away and he found that his thoughts cleared, making him remember something.

She was wearing black. Beth never wore black. It was the colour she had hated more than anything else in the world. She’d rather go naked than wear black, she had once told him … and she never called him “Thomas.” Not ever. She didn’t like the formality of it, she told him. He would forever be “Tom” to her.

That snapped him clear of her hold over him and he acted out of instinct. Grabbing her by the arm, he pulled her down onto the floor, straddling her and pinning her there in the next moment. The anger pushed everything from his mind about Beth and he thought clearly at last: “Who the hell are you?”

“I’m Beth! Can’t you see, Thomas?”

“Bull.”

He pulled his gun from its holster and placed the barrel against her throat, “You look like her. You aren’t. She only wore yellow. You’re wearing black. She called me Tom. You’re calling me ‘Thomas.’ And she never met my partner. You’re a poor copy of her; should have realized that when you first appeared. What the hell are you? Show me or I swear I’ll put a bullet in you.”

Beth—no, this poor copy of her—continued to struggle, the fear on her face evident and then, to Tom’s surprise, she smiled. Then Beth’s smile was gone and an evil grin had replaced it. And behind that grin was Mary Ann struggling to free herself from where he had her trapped.

“You fuck! I’ll tear your heart out and eat it!”

Tom had figured out by now that she was something not human. This only made him angrier than he had been. He had foolishly assumed that there was some kind of honour among those that weren’t human. Whatever Mary Ann was, she didn’t have any. The next thought was of Camilla and her promise to him: not to pry into his life, to let him make his own decisions. He realized that it wasn’t just a promise, it meant something to her.

He found that it meant something to him as well.

“You are so dead, cop! They’ll never find your body when I’m finished with you!”

His thumb pulled the hammer back on the gun, “Let’s see how you do with a bullet in you.” He moved the barrel from her neck, and pulled the trigger leaving a clean hole in the floor beside her right ear and it bleeding where the bullet grazed her. The look of shock in her eyes that accompanied the sound of the shot echoing in the office gave Tom some satisfaction.

Whatever she was, she could be killed by a gunshot, it seemed.

He put the barrel against her throat again, “Talk or the next one is going to make it hard for you to breathe.”

“Bastard! I’ll rip you apart!”

He heard Camilla’s voice behind him, “Thomas!”

He took a quick look. Camilla was standing there in a panic. He found that comforting, somehow: “Camilla. Get over here and help me before I kill this … thing.”

She ran towards Tom trying to hide the fear that had been in her eyes when she burst through the office doors and thanked the stars that Tom was still alright.

Tom looked at Mary Ann, no longer just the image of a bimbo, but now a twisted version of one,  one that had hate in her eyes and was obviously more than she appeared. As Camilla came closer, he told her, “The goons will be here in a minute. That gunshot will bring them running.”

Camilla’s smile was sure, “No, no they will not be, Thomas. I can promise you that they are … busy at the moment with other thoughts in their minds.”

He gave her an odd look and managed a smile, “Kinky ones?”

Camilla allowed herself a chuckle, “Very. You would be shocked.”

He turned back to Mary Ann, “So, what is she?”

Camilla’s tail struck out and slapped against Mary Ann’s cheek before she answered, “She’s s Siren. Mesmerizes her prey and then feeds them what they most desire to get what she wants.”

“Bitch. You’ll never get out of here alive. We’ll turn you both into thralls and you’ll…”  Tom’s hand against her cheek stopped Mary Ann’s voice and put shock into her eyes.

“I don’t hit women, but in your case you aren’t a lady, are you?”

She didn’t answer except to look at Tom with death in her eyes.

“Camilla, what do we know?”

“Nothing useable, save for Ginger being a pawn of Mary Ann.”

Tom considered that for a moment. If that was true, then Ginger didn’t have control over this place any more than her husband did. It also explained what happened to him and why Ginger was so over sexualized from the woman she had been when he had first met the pair and took them to jail for a minor incident in the past.

“Okay. So, then, what do we do?”

Camilla’s voice was cold, “She talks to my Tail.”

The look in Mary Ann’s eyes became one of fear and she struggled trying to get away, becoming more violent in her movements, seemingly not caring if she hurt herself.

“What the hell does that mean? Why is she freaking out?”

“She knows what it means Thomas. That’s what matters.” Camilla’s tail struck Mary Ann’s cheek once more, making her stop moving as she looked in fear at Camilla. “You can talk to us right now, or you can talk to her. Make a choice.”

“If I talk, I’m dead. If I don’t talk, I’m just as dead.”

Thomas took hold of her chin, forcing her to look at him, “Pick one. Which is worse?”

The voice that came over Tom’s shoulder was smooth and seductive, its tone wrapped in dominance …

“I think I am.”


May 15 2011

A Librarian’s Tale – A Story of the Succubi by JHB

I am, with the permission of my dear heart, going to share a story he wrote as a birthday present for me this year.

I haven’t written much in my Realm of late, and that does need to change for there are so many stories to be told and they need to be…

But for today, for always, my heart has told a tale of the Succubi that made me both smile and cry as I read it, and it’s something that I think should be shared…

But before that, before the story is told, one more huggle and much love to my heart for being part of my life and gracing me with his imagination and words…

To be cherished…

Always…

Tera

_____________________________________

A Librarian’s Tale

By JHB (James)

 

The Realm Library was one of the wonders of the worlds, whispered about in rumors and rehearsed in fables and legends.  Many dismissed the tales of cavernous reading rooms and miles of towering shelves, brimming with manuscripts from over a thousand worlds.  They chuckled quietly at what they considered to be the nursery rhymes about carrels that opened into forests, hallways that transcended space and time, and living, breathing volumes that could, when properly read, unlock the building blocks of the universe.

 

But true, serious scholars from over a dozen realities salivated at the thought of possibly being invited to study there someday.  Adventurers hungered for the opportunity of finding a way in there, invitation or no, and scoured deserted pathways, the backs of old wardrobes, dusty rare book rooms, and even the occasional telephone box, anywhere they had heard of a portal opening, to find there own way in.  And romantics of all shapes and sizes dreamt of the confluence of circumstances that might find them in that place, in the presence of the absolutely stunning head librarian.

 

Tera, Queen of the Succubi Realm, reserved the position of Head Librarian for herself.  She had loved the Realm Library ever since, as a girl, she had followed her mother around when the then-Queen was preparing special addresses or reminding herself of the history of certain touchy palace subjects.  Tera was sure she could still smell her mother’s perfume in some of the books and scrolls.  As she grew older, the bubbly, raven-haired red-tail began to explore on her own while mother studied; that was when she had discovered the literature wing, with its endless shelves of fiction and poetry, and the art galleries, with their portrayals of beings heroic, historic, and fantastic.  As time passed, she would even steal up to the great hall herself to lose herself in beauty and imagination.  When Princess Tera ascended to the throne, she simply knew she must spend regular time in this most wonderful place.

 

She was the Head Librarian, but she was also the Queen, responsible for the entire Realm and all the places where succubi wandered in other worlds, not just her favorite place.  As strong as the temptation was to spend all her time wandering the stacks and interacting with those who found their way in, she had other duties.

 

So this tale is not about her.

 

No, there were others who helped tend the Library, brilliant succubi and incubi who had, at some point in their lives, been bitten by the same bug as their sovereign.  Whenever possible, Tera would be there with them, cataloguing and shelving and even dusting, getting herself into the work, making herself part of this collection which had such a special place in her heart.  But this small platoon of a half-dozen or so colleagues took most of the day-to-day responsibilities, and would report to their green-eyed regent when she stopped in, usually bringing them cookies and Diet Coke (a good librarian keeps her strength up, after all, and encourages her colleagues to do likewise).

 

Still, this repository was huge, transcending space and time, reaching into multiple realities.  The work was constant and could be overwhelming.  What’s more, as long-lived as succubi can be, none of them are immortal.  The librarians needed help, and needed to train the next generation.

 

So this story isn’t about them, either.

 

Miriam was the most recent intern recruit to the Library staff.  Like the Queen, Miriam had come to the library with her mother—a teacher—as a little girl and had fallen in love with the place.  She had studied, planned, lobbied, and even begged for the position among the interns.  It wasn’t that she wasn’t bright enough; she had gotten the second highest score ever on the qualifying exam.

 

It’s just that she was . . . well . . .

 

Only one or two yellow-tails appears in a century in the Realm.  They are wonderfully warm, cheerful, and supportive of everyone.  It was a yellow-tail, almost four centuries ago, who was the first (and so far only) being ever to start an orgy with chocolate chip cookies and milk.  It went on for three weeks, and, at the end of it, the American Roanoke colony had disappeared.

 

She had simply meant to drop off a neighborly “Welcome Wagon” kind of package.

 

Miriam was a yellow-tail, an even brighter yellow than the one who had visited Roanoke—nobody knew for sure, but the legend was that, the brighter their yellow, the warmer, more cheerful, more optimistic, and more unpredictable they were.  Not that they were dangerous per sé—they would never do anything intentionally harmful—but, the brighter the yellow, the more things had a habit of getting away from them.

 

So, when others saw this young succubi’s almost neon bright horns poking out from under her strawberry blonde bangs (most succubi—even yellow-tails–have hair that nicely contrasts to the color of their horns, adding to their seductive aura) over her rather gangly frame, they immediately braced themselves for whatever might ensue.  As she reached adolescence, friends and family had taken to measuring her tail while she slept, so that they knew how far to move the breakables out of her path.

 

The Library staff had more than a little trepidation about her, sure that she would be too flighty, fearful for some of their more precious artifacts, and concerned that she might prove to be a well-meaning distraction in any number of ways.  “Wouldn’t you be happier working with the new-made residents, or maybe out helping to raise the roses?  You know, someplace where you could be out in the open, and not cooped up where you can knock things . . . ummmm . . . can’t get any sun?”

 

They rejected her once, and then again.  The staff were all ready to reject her application a third time when Queen Tera, Head Librarian, intervened: “I really do think she could bring a unique perspective to our work here.”

 

“But, Your Majesty,” they replied, “a yellow-tail?”

“I have come to understand that it is never wise to judge by appearances.”

 

“But . . . Your Majesty . . . a yellow-tail!”

 

“The Library is very old, very large, and very strong . . . strong enough to withstand the forces at the nexus of the several realities it transcends.  I am pretty sure that one yellow-tailed succubi cannot cause too much permanent damage.”

 

The Queen almost never raised her voice—something she had learned from her mother—but there was a definite soft tone she took at times that told those around her that the time for debate was over.  Not a regal tone, not a condescending tone, but a firm tone.  She hated pulling rank on her co-workers, but she had a definite idea about how this would go.

 

And her colleagues recognized that tone.  Perhaps only Keith knew it better.

 

The next day, Miriam was outside the great oaken doors for half an hour before the Library opened, waiting to begin her orientation.  When the staff arrived, they sat her down in a carrel to calm down and wait, then discovered a large plate of chocolate chip cookies on the circulation desk with the faintest whiff of cherries and a note that said simply, “Thank you. Huggles, Tera.”

 

Over the coming months, Miriam did prove herself to be quite bright, a quick learner, and, when she was focused, she was a first-class librarian.  In just a month, she had found a way to modify the library’s famous but idiosyncratic Pitchfork Decimal cataloguing system to work with almost every language—earthbound and not—represented in the collection. Even the most skeptical staffers had to grudgingly admit that the young intern was exceeding all their expectations.

 

But there were moments when things . . . well, they got away from her.  She was overjoyed to assist a group of visiting lepidopterists, and did a wonderful job helping them get situated in one of the less-traveled alcoves.  The visitors did find her constant checking on them, including the bowls of jellybeans, just a bit over-the-top, however.

 

And then there was the matter of one of the “Special Collection” volumes, Monarchs: a Complete View, which Miriam was to bring out for the guests.  Items in the Special Collection of the Realm Library were, of course, much more special than in similar collections.  For example, when this volume was opened, the reader got “a Complete View” of the butterflies because they would flutter slightly above the page.  But, as with most yellow-tails, our heroine had a way of causing things to escalate; within minutes, clouds of multi-hued butterflies were on the wing throughout the facility.  Some of them were turning up in corners of the rafters for years.  For the next three summers, in the DVD archive, cocoons encased the movie with that name.

 

Still, the young yellow-tail was doing an excellent job, for the most part, and week by week she seemed to get stronger.  She was also blossoming into full-fledged womanhood, with all her succubi potential coming to the fore.  At her age, many abandoned their internships and what were thought to be the more mundane aspects of Realm life in order to roam the mortal world, enjoying and refining their playful and seductive skills.  Miriam, however, had no desire to leave her work in the library.

 

“This might not be such a bad thing,” said one of the senior librarians at a staff meeting while having her horns rubbed (Tera strongly believed staff meetings went much better if all the staff were getting massages at the time). “Remember when that yellow-tail named Helen went to Sparta? She batted her eyes at that Trojan boy, and a war started!  As I recall, she ended up with some three-dozen suitors before we persuaded her to move to Paris . . . Saint-Seans did write a nice opera for her, though.”

 

“I never thought I would say it,” a blue-tailed incubi curator chimed in, “but the Library may be the best place for young Miriam.”

 

The Queen nodded, but touched a finger to her lips as her brow furrowed, even though she was getting a deep-tissue rub at the base of her tail.  Still, she knew that it was best to let the intern find her own path and that, if all of them were true to their hearts, things would be fine.

 

A few more weeks passed, as the Realm fully embraced spring once again.  The only Miriam-related incident was the day a group of sophomores from the Academy came to learn about the Library as they prepared for a research project.  Most of the incubi and succubi couldn’t be torn away from their yellow-tailed tour guide, not being interested in any of the other staff—of course, the Queen was on a state visit to a mortal land called Toh-Ron-Toe, and her Tail self was teaching self-defense to some Baker—and even started to throw themselves at her feet when their teacher told them the tour was over.  Only when the intern spoke to them in her own lilting voice, assuring them that they could come back later, did they get up and return to class.

 

More library cards were issued that day than in the previous six months.

 

Finally, the day came for Miriam’s final internship exam, the one that would admit her to the full-time staff.  Part of the exam was about physical endurance, for one would be surprised at how much lifting, climbing, walking, and running was involved in a Realm librarianship.  In the middle of the night, she was awakened by the tines of a pitchfork under her chin, and opened her eyes to find Tail herself straddling her burgeoning body.

 

“Get up and see if you can keep up with me!”

 

Miriam hardly had time to pull on shorts and a t-shirt—Tail had obliged her by ripping her nightie away—before chasing her proctor out the window and through the streets to the Library.  Their bare feet never touched any pavement and they did not enter through a doorway.  With only light from the Realm’s moons filtering into the collections, the book halls became an obstacle course, as shelving units were climbed and chandeliers treated as trapeze.  Except for a moment in the Library forest, where her toe skimmed the duck pond before her tail pulled her back into a Dutch Elm, the intern’s execution was flawless.

 

In just under two hours, they were back at Miriam’s bed.  Tail straddled her again, pulling away her sparse clothing and stroking her yellow tail.  “The exam is not yet complete.  Your endurance must be tested thoroughly,” the proctor purred.

 

Miriam gasped, then sighed, then responded.

 

The first glimmers of dawn were peeking over the Angelkitty Mountains when Tail caressed her subject’s sweaty, smiling cheek, then breathed hotly into her ear as her eyes closed, “My tasty young thing . . . you have done well, but you must not forget to embrace all of your being.”

 

Sunlight pushed her eyes awake all too soon.  The heat of the extra-long shower felt good on her sore curves, and she found it hard to imagine how even her yellow horns were aching a bit.  Still, it was the most pleasant twinge she had ever experienced.

 

She needed to dry her strawberry blonde curls fairly quickly if she was not going to be late, and was still toweling her hair as she stepped out of the bathroom to her dressing table.  She caught a faint whiff of cherries and found a note card, bearing the royal ensign—a red heart with horns and a tail—sitting on top of her panties.

 

Dear Miriam,

 

Tail tells me she quite enjoyed examining you, and is giving you high marks.  Now for the second part of your test:

 

Part of the purpose of the Library, of course, is providing research assistance for the royal court.  I have always wondered about the use of the number “42” in Douglas Adams’ Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. Douglas sometimes had trouble with his maths, and once had a fellow wearing a long scarf in a television play insist that Einstein’s equation was “E-equals-MC-CUBED.”

 

So, here is your exam question: what is the meaning of Life?

 

Huggles from Her Majesty

 

P.S.—Miriam, darling, please, stop curtseying.

 

The intern realized that her knee had been bent and her head bowed the whole time she had been reading, and she blushed.  Then she took a deep breath: her Queen wanted her to find the meaning of life!  Pulling herself together, she got dressed and headed for the library, where she commandeered a study carrel equidistant from literature, applied sciences, and philosophy.  She began by speed re-reading Hitchiker’s Guide, spent the afternoon comparing world religions and working out the physics of an optimal regeneration environment, and fell asleep watching the appropriate Monty Python movie.  The next day, she began reading poetry on life and love while also scanning volumes on human understanding.

 

This may not have been the best move.

 

She wanted to explore every aspect of life and reality, and so had found, among the rare manuscripts and artifacts, a scroll handwritten by the ancient alchemist Zosimos of Panopolis.  She also pulled off the shelf, not realizing she had moved from “Love” into “Erotic Literature”, a book of the collected poems of D.H. Lawrence.  Miriam was an amazing student, and she could often read and comprehend multiple texts, but she was weary, and her mind was flooded with a number of conflicting ideas . . .

 

. . . and she was a yellow-tailed succubi . . . with a bright yellow tail . . .

 

She was lost in thought and had almost drifted off when she heard thunder, or perhaps an avalanche, from the main reading room.  Running through the corridors and almost spinning down the spiral staircase, Miriam came upon the most bizarre scene:  staff, patrons, and their tail selves all engaged in a wild orgy.  They were on top of tables, on top of the circulation desk, and slammed up against the shelving units—evidently the loud noise had been the sound of a shelving unit full of books tumbling into the one next to it, and the one next to that, and the one next to that, twelve in all, fallen like dominoes.  The erstwhile librarian could scarcely believe her eyes, and her nose detected the scent of lemons, almost a musk, in a way she had never smelled it before.

 

Something was terribly wrong.  She ran for the doors, stepping over writhing, moaning, sweating entwined bodies while dodging more than a few hands and tails anxious to pull her into their erotic melées.

 

The scene outside, however, convinced Miriam that help was not going to be coming quickly.  In the streets, on the library steps, in shops there were incubi and succubi engaged with their tail selves in a fog of lust.  She tried to remember what was wrong with that, but didn’t have too much experience in this area; unlike most of her peers, Miriam had never been in communication with her tail self, and her first sensual experience had been just two nights ago, with Her Majesty’s Tail.

 

As the yellow-tail roamed the streets, the magnitude of the situation became more and more evident: angelkitties were coiled around one another in the gardens, and syreens had wandered down from the hills to mate, rather raucously, by the lakeshore.  And everywhere she went, she inhaled that lemon musk.  Her own body was tingling just a bit.

 

In her private study in the palace, Tera caught a whiff of lemon, took off her glasses, and stepped away from her desk.  Suddenly aware in her bones of something terribly wrong, she stepped quickly through her apartment, almost breaking into a run when she passed her special mirror and caught a glimpse of Tail.  She stopped, thinking she would draw on her counterpart’s wisdom, but all she could seem to do was stare at Tail’s green eyes.  Finally, the Queen shook her head and turned to go, only to have a black tail wrap around her waist, while a manicured nail traced the royal red tail with amazing accuracy.  The scent of lemons was heavier. She spun around to see Tail caressing her, knowing better than anyone in the universe, even better than her Eternal, how to arouse her.

 

“You shouldn’t be here.  Not now!  Not both of us!” Tera half-exclaimed, half-moaned.

 

“But I am here.  And you cannot tell me this hasn’t crossed your . . . dreams . . . your wettest dreams.”

 

Of course, Tail knew every moment of Tera’s wildest fantasies. “But, our being together will destroy the balance of things.  It will affect all our sisters.”

 

“All our sisters and brothers are already experiencing the same thing.  Every wild, uninhibited, dark fantasy that ever was is becoming alive out there.”

 

“But . . . if this is true all over the Realm . . .” Tera was trying  to form thoughts as Tail tasted her neck and moved down.

 

“It doesn’t matter, it is what everyone wants.” A new voice—her angelkitty’s—entered the discussion as this being who was supposed to ground her began nibbling up her legs.  Tera vaguely wondered about how she had become nearly naked, but didn’t care; Tail was quite adept.

 

“No . . . it does matter . . . if our sisters and brothers in the mortal Realm are affected, then our presence will become known . . . The balance will be lost . . . the barriers between Realms . . .”  With great effort, the Queen endeavored to pull away from the sexual gravity of these perfect lovers.

 

“We will be blissful, darling.” It was her Eternal, Keith: “Let us enjoy you . . . please.” He grabbed her chin, pulled her mouth to his for a long deep kiss, and Tera melted.  Every secret erogenous zone in her being was assaulted simultaneously as the three lovers drew her to the bed.

 

Miriam realized that the only hope for an answer to all of this, lay inside the library, and so she made her way back.  The great doors were now jammed shut, however; remembering her recent exercises with Tail, the intern kicked off her shoes and used the ivy to help her climb the stone walls.  While she did pause for a moment as her lemon-fogged mind pondered how wonderfully endowed one of the gargoyles was, she quickly recovered herself and, tapping a window just so to release the lock, just as she had done the other night, slipped inside, landing silently on the marble floor.

 

She was not alone for long.  The tip of a silver tail ran up and down her spine, and she turned to find a succubi with her build, chestnut brown hair, but Miriam’s very violet eyes.  “You’re my tail self, aren’t you?”

 

“Yes, baby,” the silver-tail responded, massaging her breasts. “The name is Marilyn.  I am so pleased to finally get to meet you.”

 

“But we’re not supposed to do this sort of thing, are we?”

 

“No, love, not at all.”

 

“Then how?”

 

“Yellow-tailed succubi are amazing creatures, and you are more amazing than most, and the Realm Library, as you well know, is an amazing place.  You let things get away from you.”

 

Even as their tails intertwined, Miriam half-husked, “But we shouldn’t do this.  We’ve held out . . .”

 

“You were the eye of the storm, sweetness.  The full effects have hit you last.  But it’s time to let what happens happen.  Remember what we were told: to embrace all of our being.” Marilyn pulled her in for a kiss.

 

“But I . . . but I . . .”

 

“Maybe, at the moment, she would prefer something different.”  The male voice belonged to someone who looked like the assistant curator, Irving, but not, with a black horns and tail to replace the blue.  “My name is Ike.  I seem to have worn Irving out.”

 

“Embrace all of my being, eh?” The intern raised an eyebrow, pulled loose from Marilyn, and grabbed this well-built man, not even allowing for time to lie down as she wrapped around him.  More books hit the floor as Miriam experienced her first orgasm as a sexual aggressor.  She liked it very much.

 

Soon, her head was clearing, and the lemon musk seemed slightly less oppressive.  She caressed the cheek of a dreamy-eyed Ike: “Why don’t you go find your counterpart, baby?  I have a feeling things will be clearing up soon.”

 

Then she kissed Marilyn, deep and long.  “Now, to continue embracing all of myself, but not the way you think, darling.  I want to draw on your wisdom.”

 

Marilyn took Miriam’s hand, leading her back to her study carrel: “Well, things are clearing, but not back to normal yet.  Let’s look at the texts you were reading.  Now, see this bit here?”

 

“I must have muttered this aloud.”

 

“But, if we both read this . . . here . . .”

 

“Oooooohhhh!  I see what you mean!”

 

Together, the succubi and her tail intoned an ancient Persian passage.  The clouds that had been gathering over the realm parted, a fresh breeze cleared the air, and tail-selves began to slip away . . . for now.  Realm residents of all sorts began to shake their heads and slip out of their reverie.  Marilyn was gone when the young yellow-tail looked up.

 

After three hours of reverie, it took the rest of the day to set most things to rights.  With all hands on deck, the tired, dusty, sweaty library staff had still just barely reshelved the major works when a familiar voice called from the Head Librarian’s supposedly vacant office: “Miriam!”

 

The young succubi blanched, but obediently responded.  As she entered the door her lip trembled: “Yes, Majesty?”

 

“You gave us all quite the adventure today.  Things got ahead of you, didn’t they?”

 

Miriam nodded meekly.

 

“Did you learn anything?”  Tera motioned for the yellow-tail to sit next to her.

 

Her eyes downcast, she complied and replied: “Well, it is important for all of us as succubi to embrace our whole being, including our sensuality and sexuality.  And both passion and integrity are what life is all about.”

 

“That is very good, my dear.  And your integrity, balanced with your passion, managed to prevent a cataclysmic event.”

 

“An event that I started, Majesty.”

 

“I know, my daughter.  Still,” she took Miriam’s chin in her hands and gave her a kiss, “there is a bit of business that must be tended to.”

 

She had given up all hope of being a librarian as she braced herself for her fate.  She would feel so alone without her friends, and without Marilyn, even though they had only just met.  But she was sure that, for the sake of the Realm, she must be banished to a mortal, tail-less life.

 

Queen Tera sat up quite straight as she spoke, “Miriam, your internship is over.  First thing tomorrow morning, you are to . . .”

 

Miriam could not breathe.

 

“. . . report to the main desk to begin your duties as a Realm Librarian.”

 

The strawberry blonde squealed, and grabbed and kissed Tera in a most un-royal manner.  She gasped, but was relieved when her Queen just smiled.

 

“I really only expected you to tell me about life and love when I asked you about the meaning of life,” Tera said.

 

“Well, you were right about Mr. Adams’ answer to the question; 42 is all wrong.  Life, especially for succubi, has balance and symmetry.” She hugged Tera once more: “I ran all the equations, Majesty . . .

 

“. . . the answer is ‘44.’”

 

May 14 2011

A Lilith Aensland Cosplayer YouTube…

Recently on the Tale, I had as one of my Tale posts a YouTube of a Cosplayer as the succubus Morrigan Aensland to share. This time I have one of a Cosplayer as Lilith Aensland to share…

And in case the embedding fails:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t1xbxSK0zP4

I’ve also discovered that, unfortunately, some of the videos that I talk about vanish from YouTube. Now that means that I can’t share everything in a video, but, since this is about a Cosplayer, I can at least show as well one picture from her work as well…

This Cosplayer calls herself Mistress Maria and has several sites on the web where her works appear. Her YouTube channel is here, her Blog is here, and a page which showcases her Cosplay works can be found here as well.

What I am very impressed by is how the wings on her head don’t droop at all… That must have taken some effort to make happen and it adds a lot of the overall look she presents I think. I also think that her costume is very true to Lilith Aensland’s as well.

If Morrigan is supposed to be sexy, Lilith is, I think, supposed to be cute.

And she most certainly is as a Succubus…

Tera

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