Jul 22 2009

Succubus Art

I discovered another piece of Succubus art this week that truly is something wonderful…

Succubus by Desiree

This lovely work is the creation of an artist named Desiree and is available at her online store with is called Lotus Flower.

This painting is listed here.

She describes this work as a Succubus in the mist… I think it’s interesting the many things in the image that connect to the Succubus… The glowing eyes for one, the appearance of horns elsewhere…

I hope that Desiree has lots of success in her future art creations and I hope that she will create more soon!


Jul 21 2009

Temptations XVIII – Gavin and Marie – Part II

This story continues on from last week when Gavin and Marie first met and then the Succubi Queen appeared to toss a monkey wrench into their lives…

Or something like that…. Mebby a pitchfork and some ribbons to tie things together is more accurate…


Temptations XVIII – Gavin and Marie – Part II

By TeraS and Gasman

After an agonizingly long few secnds of hesitation, Gavin leaned in and hugged Marie. Gently, almost like she was made of glass, but he put his arms around her just the same, hoping that she wouldn’t suddenly rip his throat out or start seducing him.

“It’s OK, we can figure out something, we can fix this…” he whispered, wishing he knew if he spoke the truth.

The glow drew his attention and even Marie stopped crying as they broke the embrace and stepped away from the mist as it coalesced into two emerald green eyes, large, mysterious and with such power that one felt their gaze even if one’s own eyes were shut. There was certainly a hint of some emotion in them. one which told him that this was definitely Tera, the power in it said that much. But whether this was a sentence, a test or a real game to her was unclear without even a smile to go on.

The laugh was deep and melodious. If he’d had a woman to attach it to, Gavin might even have said it was sexy, but now, with the echoes? It was unnerving.

As she spoke, Gavin bit his tongue, remembering Marie’s advice. Best to concentrate on her words, figure out the rules, the reasoning and work from there. Still guesswork, but educated guesses were better than blind ones. Still, those eyes boring through him made him shiver. And even less comforting was the fact that he wasn’t sure it was only a shiver of fear.

“Cryptic… Lovely,” he said, with as much humour as he could find, “What does she mean? Is it like, I get one chance to save you, but you’re stuck as whatever she decides I want if I get it wrong? Or is it a tug o’ war thing? We all have a say, and we push and pull until something snaps…”

He stopped, frozen, as he realized that ‘something’ would probably be Marie herself…

“Um, I’m sorry… Look, it’d probably help if I knew more about you, yeah? Where you’re from, what you do there, heck I don’t even know how old you are or if you have someone worrying about you…” he offered, about equal parts trying to keep her mind from dwelling on the situation and really interested in what she would answer…

Marie sighed a bit as Gavin asked his question and said, “Might as well…. After she changes me I won’t remember me anymore…” She stood up and then offered her hand, “My name is Marie Theresa Macmillan. I’m 24. Originally I’m from Copenhagen. I was once a simple student there until I discovered a book in my university’s library. I opened it and there was a bright flash and then I suddenly found that I could read minds. I could look at someone and just….. know…. their thoughts….”

She shivered slightly and said, “The head librarian came up to me and took the book saying, “A gift given… Not as a gift taken….”

She sighed, “I didn’t understand it at the time, but that was Tera. She set the rules at that point on me but I was too freaked out to understand them. After a while i got really good at the power. I used the power to get things and make people do what I wanted.”

She wiped her eyes, “That was a mistake. I did not use the gift as I should have. I had a gift. I should have used it as a gift. Instead I didn’t and in the end I hurt someone close to me… He isn’t…. Anymore….”

She looked at the floor and said, “Maybe it’s better that I just let this happen so I forget it all…”

He listened, nodding as seemed reasonable and made sure not to miss a word once Tera’s involvement was brought up. She’d started the game, as she had here, the book thing seemed to be something she at least enjoyed using, and she was cryptic, willing to throw you into a tailspin, but it looked like she would give you a chance, albeit slim.

Gavin placed one gentle hand on Maire’s shoulder. Then swiftly, but not suddenly removed it, not wanting to set anything off by their contact.

“It’s OK, it’s alright. We’ll get through this, right…” he whispered soothingly, his thoughts torn between lifting her spirits and considering her words, “But, how could you be held so responsible, anyone would use that kind of information to… Wait… ‘make’ people do what you wanted? ‘Make’ how?

Before she could answer, he heard her murmur something as she bowed her head. His jaw dropped.

“Marie, no! You don’t want that, not really. Not unless you were acting when she put that collar on you… Don’t give up.”

Marie looked at him, “Why not? She looks after her toys and playthings better than I ever did! Once you are hers it’s almost rapture…….”

Her eyes fluttered a bit and she let out a little moan, “mmmmm… yessss… rapture…. Just forever the pleasure…. The need to serve her…. The desire to obey her…. mmmmmm…..”

As Gavin watched, her short blonde hair began to glow and then to his surprise a long mane of golden blonde hair cascaded in a wild wave of sensual curls down her back until the ends of it tickled at her robes just above her bum. She quivered and then let out a gasp as she fell to her knees. She shook her head and then pulled some of the bright flowing locks in front of her eyes. She sighed and said, “I always wanted long hair…. I guess I’m going to have that wish granted…”

She gathered herself and continued, “I could read other people’s minds and then do things to change their minds. Or I could see a necklace I wanted in a shop, read the mind of the storeowner for the alarm codes and then come back and take what I wanted to….”

Marie sighed, “Goddess I was so stupid…”

This time, he left his hand where it was as she began to tremble and sigh her approval of what was happening. A grim smile appeared as he noted that there were probably worse fates he could think of, but that still didn’t make this desirable. He could feel the silken softness of the golden river as it spilled down over her shoulders, contrasting with her robe in such a way that it seemed almost deliberate.

“Really?” he asked, a lightbulb flashing in his mind, “Is…? Maybe that’s the game? She gives you what you want, but as she sees it…”

He turned to face her and put his other hand on her other shoulder, firmly. He looked into those still unnaturally green eyes, eyes that combined with the hair to create something quite striking, actually.

“OK, you were. But she’s not blameless in that. You wouldn’t have stolen if you hadn’t been given the temptation, right? And the manipulation thing might not be the nicest thing, but we all do it sometimes, mind-reading or not…” he paused, taking a deep breath, “Any ideas on how my side of this is gonna work? I don’t want to fix your hair, use up my one shot and have end up as some Succutoy anyway… Besides, I kinda wanna go home eventually…”

Marie was about to answer when her collar glowed for a moment. Then in a strange sultry voice she said, “One.” The glow disappeared and then she said in her normal voice, “I guess that you are my Prince Charming cummingto save me…”

She looked at him and asked, “Tera is all about fantasies and making them real… What is your fantasy Gavin? Maybe that will be a clue?”

She sighed and said, “I’m not sure about mine…”

The glowing and the not-Marie count of one gave him another clue to the rules. He even shook his head at the idea that Tera seemed to want him to be distracted by what was happening to Marie, not thinking about how to stop it within her guidelines.

“OK, so it looks like she’s going in steps, at least… Maybe that means I can too?” he thought aloud, “Heh, I’m nobody’s Prince… What? Marie, don’t slip like that, OK? That’s what she wants.”

His eyes widened as she gazed into them, “My fantasy? You mean like… Um, I’m not sure… I mean, I have some, but which one would she pick?”

It was a valid question he felt. He had the usual dreams of luxury, easy-living, wealth, fame all the silly imaginings everyone allows themself from time to time. But he got the feeling this was going to be focused on more visceral, more carnal realms. He ran through the catalogue of those in his head, cheerleaders and princesses and southern belles and cops all danced through his head alongside a parade of other male cliches, and he searched each one for a pattern. He didn’t find one.

Unless he counted the girl starting things, but that was more of a coincidence. Not every one had that, and besides, he just liked that idea because he still got a bit dry-mouthed when he had to start the conversation with a woman he liked. No big deal, right?

Marie looked at him strangely for a second, “Slip like what? Come on Gavin… All she’s done is change my hair right? It’s not like she’s changed my eyes or reshaped my tits or something….”

She tilted her head and said, “I haven’t a clue… Few people have figured her out. One person thought they did and the moment after they tried their theory, Tera just touched a finger to their forehead and she was a bimbo.” Marie thought for a minute, “I think she still is actually….”

As Gavin watched, Marie began to rub her thighs slowly together, little gasps coming from her lips as she did. She placed her hands behind her and stretched out a bit. The red robe she wore fell against her body loosely in most places. Most, but not all. As Gavin watched the material around her breasts seemed to slowly tighten around them. She seemed to be distracted by something for a split second, and then she leaned on her right hand as her left raised off the floor and towards her neck…

Marie traced a finger almost lazily along the edge of the collar and said, “She’s been around so long that she knows all of the ways into a mind…”

Gavin’s eyes darted to the floor for a second.

“Actually… your eyes have been a weird shade of green since she put that collar on you… I know they were green, but this is different.”

He would’ve made mention of her choice of words as well, but all he had to go on was a tone of voice she likely didn’t remember and a slang term for her breasts that might’ve been in her vocabulary anyway.

“Wonderful,” he said, shaking his head to show it was anything but, “She wants me so scared I’ll get things wrong that I do nothing, and lose anyway…”

He could only watch, almost staring, his jaw hovering just shy of dropped, as her bust seemed to grow and firm as he watched. At first, it seemed just an effect of her movements, and her seeming arousal made it difficult to concentrate on such distinctions, but it soon became clear that there was definitely a change happening.

It was astonishing how much of a difference these alterations were making, in all truth. Marie had been rather ordinary looking to begin with, but even though only her hair, eyes and breasts had been changed, she was already quite beautiful. And the bouts of squirming and moaning were far from a hinderence to that, making that new look nigh-impossible to ignore.

“Um… Marie? I think she heard you a minute ago, ’cause your-” he paused, realizing that her body language was hardly that of the worried, frightened girl he’d met a little while before, “Marie? Are you… Do you know if she’s done anything apart from the hair? Anything I haven’t told you about?”

Her last statement went unanswered for now, the implications of it almost too overwhelming to consider. But he decided to take a plunge and see what the result would be. Focusing, he looked at Marie, closed his eyes, and concentrated. Trying to push out the knowledge of what other things had been happening to her.

At the mention of her eyes being changed, Marie seemed to snap back into herself. She released a sad little sigh, “The eyes are the windows to the soul… She’s closing the blinds on me…” She looked at Gavin and said, “I’m not going to be me soon… She’s taking me piece by piece and soon there will be only what she wishes there to be…”

She looked down at her enhanced bust and sighed, “I wonder what creature I will be at the end of this… Hopefully I will never truly know…”

When she heard the question he asked she answered, “Anything else? I have no idea… Except for what you have told me about… I’m… Here… For now… I don’t know how long I will be…”

Marie stood up and then walked over to Gavin. With a sad look she hugged him gently, “If you see me again after this… Remember who I was for me…”

“Damnit! So the eyes were a big deal? I didn’t… I didn’t know,” he said, his head dipping sadly, before he looked back up, “I mean, I knew the saying, but I didn’t think it…”

He locked his eyes on hers defiantly as she lamented her fate, his gaze threatening to almost burn that defeat out of her.

“You’ll be you, if I have any say, and the rules were pretty clear that I did..” he decided to offer her the information she’d been denied, hoping it would bolster her resolve rather than make her despair, “Just, try to fight what ‘s already done, OK? You’ve been acting kind of… well… sexy, right after she does anything. Sort of flirty and turned-on… ”

He looked around, hoping to find some other clue as to how he was supposed to ‘play’. Obviously, it wasn’t as simple as concentrating or thinking. And simply saying ‘I want Marie back to normal and for us both to go home’ would be too easy. Wouldn’t it?

“Uh… I want Marie back to normal and for us both to go home?” he whispered, wondering if it would even get a response.

He hugged her back as he said this, more firmly than he would’ve expected to embrace this woman he’d just met, and closed his eyes for a moment. And his lips silently accepted the mission.

“I will…”

Marie pulled back a little bit and said, “You’ll find that a lot of sayings in the world you know actually mean something here Gavin. What you ask for in her realm you can get… At a price…”

She tried to smile as she said, “It’s so hard to fight the pleasures that her powers are pressing onto me Gavin…. I have an ache within me… I want you…. Badly… I know that sounds so strange, but there is a part of me that is growing stronger and stronger that wants me to tear my clothes off and ride you like a wildcat. Feeling your cock ramming into my pussy making me cum so hard… So….”

She shook her head sending her hair wildly in all directions as she took a deep breath. She calmed down and then said, “Too easy to let the other come out now…. And she wants to Gavin….”

Her eyes held his as if in a vise as she said in a whisper, “So so much…..”

She didn’t say a word as Gavin asked the question to the space around him. Then Marie nuzzled into him quietly awaiting an answer she hoped would never come.

But it did.

Tera’s voice whispered around them both, “You can go home. Or Marie can be normal again. But not both. Not without a sacrifice. Are you willing to make that choice Gavin? Are you willing to be changed in her place? Are you willing to become something in her place? Are you? Are you? Or are you just lying to yourself?

Her admission hit him hard. Part of him was flattered that she found him atractive, whether the atraction was artificial or not. And the though of this now-gorgeous woman pouncing on him and giving in to that desire… Well, it was not something he would object to under normal circumstances.

But these weren’t normal, and he had no way of knowing if any of those feelings were real. It wouldn’t be right to take advantage of her like that. He’d hate himself, and if she got changed back, she’d hate him too. He held himself back from kissing her as she stared right through him, the sheer will it was taking to hold her ‘other’ self back almost tangible.

Then she spoke…

Gavin wasn’t sure if this was better or worse than being ignored, but he’d opened the box and now he had to deal with what had spilled out. He wanted this to end, but he didn’t want to have to sacrifice someone else for his own petty want. But staying where they were was hardly a good idea either, as he had no idea if this would be the only game she’d want them to play.

On the other hand, did he want to risk losing himself, who he was, for this girl he’d only just met? It wasn’t like she was going to die or anything. It didn’t even seem like she’d be hurt. Heck, she’d seemed pretty happy with the changes so far… And she had done some questionable things when given the chance, by her own admission.

So why did the idea of taking the escape hatch out leave him feeling like he was covered in a thin layer of grease?

Because it was wrong. She didn’t want this. Every moment she’d been herself, she’d railed against it, struggled to stay herself, and had no chance of success. For what? Because she’d been a little silly when mindreading? He shook his head. She didn’t deserve this and Gavin knew it. Tera probably knew it too, and knew that Gavin wasn’t going to walk away.

He only really ever had one choice open to him. He took several deep breaths, looked right into those too-green eyes of Marie’s and kissed her softly on the cheek. It was foolish, it was scary, and it had been a completely foregone conclusion from the second he’d made the wish.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered to the blonde girl before him, before telling the air around them, “I-I am. I’m willing, OK? So fix her and then you… you can have me instead…”


More to come next week…


Jul 20 2009

Storm Clouds XI – An ongoing Succubi Story

Storm Clouds XI

More editing of this tale of the Succubi… I just didn’t have the energy this week to add to it… Hopefully this coming week I will have some time to write again in it….


Storm Clouds
By TeraS
Chapter 1

“How did she die?”

The question hung in the air over the people surrounding the cold steel table upon which a body rested, covered in a white blanket. The medical examiner pushed his thick glasses up his nose with a latex-gloved finger before replying in a disinterested voice, “Looks like a mugging. Stabbed in the back eight times, then whatever she had on her was taken. She was found beside a car in the Summer Hill Mall parking lot.”

The man who had asked the question rubbed the day’s worth of stubble on his chin, “Eight times? Sounds like something more than a mugging Doc. No mugger than I know of would spend the time to stab his or her victim that many times. Too easy to be seen or get caught.”

Doc looked back at him before shrugging, “You want facts Tom. That’s all we have here. Nothing else to say about her. Eight wounds with a knife or similar object. No sign of other harm to her. Before you ask, no signs that she was raped either.” He turned away from the table and stripped off his gloves, “Just the usual senseless crime in the big city.”

After Doc left the room, Tom stared at the body for a while. It didn’t make sense. Why her? She was nobody. Nothing special. She probably had a family, and he would have to see them next.

That was the part he hated most of all; having to walk up the lawn or path or whatever, knocking on the door, the person opening it for a moment with hope in their eyes that their loved one would be there waiting. But instead they would see a middle-aged brown-haired,  brown-eyed man in a rumpled suit flash a badge, ask to come in and then, a little while later, leave the home with wrecked lives in his wake.

He sighed and grabbed the clipboard that held her ID… and came to an abrupt halt in his thoughts.

There was nothing there: no name, no address, no other ID. Nothing.

He was mulling over the procedures for filing a Jane Doe report when a woman’s voice broke into the room from behind him: “We’ll look after her from here, thank you.”

Turning to look over his shoulder from his right he answered, “She’s a Jane Doe. My file. You have…”

He found himself looking at a woman about his height. She had short blonde hair in a bob cut, blue eyes, slim build. Cute in her own way, he supposed. She was holding a folded piece of paper in her hand: “…paperwork. I’m here to claim my Sister.” She handed him the paper as two burly men in dark suits entered the room behind her.

Tom didn’t bother to open the paper. There really was no point. They would not have managed to get into the room without having the paperwork to do so, nor would they be able to leave with the body if they didn’t. He watched her go over to the table, lift the top of the sheet from the body, then with a nod say to the men, “It’s her.”

They wasted little time after that. Within moments they had moved around both himself and the blonde before taking hold of the table and rolling it out the door.

As she turned to follow the men pushing the table from the room, Tom called after her, “I’m… sorry for your family’s loss.”

She hesitated in mid-step before replying without looking at him, “Are you really? Or are you just parroting the words that your regulations say you should say, officer?”

Tom found himself unable to bring himself to say that it wasn’t just words, that he hated his job, that he hated not being able to find the ones who did these things and bring them to justice. Instead, he replied, “Not all words are lies, Ma’am.”

Her answer gave him pause, “No. No they are not. But neither are they all truths, either.”

He watched her open the small blue purse she held. For a moment, she seemed to be considering her next actions carefully, as if she was about to reveal something that she was not sure she had the right to. A small white card appeared in her hand a moment later. She looked at it before placing it on the countertop to her right, “If you want to attend her services, they’ll be at that address. Tomorrow. Nine in the morning.”

With that she pushed through the door, leaving Tom in the room alone with his thoughts, the buzz of the lights, and the card on the table…

And the question in his mind of whether or not he would or wouldn’t…

Tom picked up the card and stuffed it into his inside pocket of his jacket without looking at it. That decision could wait for the moment. Pushing through the door that led out of the room, he turned down the hallway and entered Doc’s office.

Doc’s office was not what you would expect from a medical practitioner. Every other doctor you would ever meet had their diplomas on one of the walls, books neatly placed on bookcases, files waiting on the desk, all of the stereotypical things you would expect. Doc was not the norm. Doc’s office consisted of a wall of filing cabinets on one side, his mass-purchased steel desk opposite to that, and, on the wall to the right, a single photograph in a frame.

That photo was of a young Doc with his arm around a cute redhead with blue eyes. They looked happy together. Tom always wondered about that picture and what happened to make Doc the old crusty pain in the ass that he was today.

Doc was sitting behind the desk, a bottle of some cheap dime store beer to his right, his concentration on a file in front of him as he wrote something there in the chicken scratch that was common to doctors around the world.

Tom took the chair on the other side of the desk and said, “It’s early for having a beer Doc.”

As he put his pen down and reached for the bottle, the answer was, “Nightshift rules, Tom. Whatever helps you make it through the shift.”

Tom frowned but didn’t push Doc on this. Doc was one of the few people who still tolerated him. Not quite a friend, mind you, but at least Doc would listen. He said in return, “Our Jane Doe was claimed. She was rolled out of here a few minutes ago.”

Doc just about choked on his beer, “Claimed? I wasn’t told? Who released her?”

Tom blinked, “Err… I did. She had paperwork and…”

With a slam of the bottle on his desk Doc growled, “Gimme the paperwork, Tom.”

It took a moment for him to draw it from his suit before handing it over, still folded up. Doc opened the paper and then shot him a look, “Did you look at this Tom?”

A shake of his head was the answer…

Doc tossed the paper at him as he reached for the phone on the desk, “Nice paper. No work.”

Tom blanched as he looked to see that the paper was… empty. Blank. Nothing.

Just like Jane Doe herself.

It took a short time, but it became clear that whoever had claimed the body had gotten out of the building unopposed and unseen. Even more frustrating was that parts of the surveillance cameras in the building would randomly turn off and then back on again leaving gaps in their coverage.

Doc pointed a finger at Tom, “You have any ideas?”

Tom didn’t hesitate, “Nothing. Didn’t give me a name or anything. I figured that a woman and her muscle wouldn’t get down here without clearance, so I didn’t think to challenge her.”

With a grunt, Doc turned back to the phone, dismissing Tom… which was fine with him.

He stood up and walked from the office heading towards the elevators. After pressing the button for the main floor, Tom fished out the card the blonde had left on the counter. He almost expected it to be as blank as the sheet of paper she had given him. Why didn’t he look at it? He should have. At the least he should have asked for her name or Jane Doe’s name. Something.

Finally the card was in his fingers and he considered the address printed there in a cold formal font…

S. Realm Enterprises, 69 69th Street. We make dreams.

The bell sounded as the elevator doors opened.

Tom had an appointment to keep in a few short hours, and some answers to get from that woman over this…

Storm Clouds
By TeraS
Chapter 2

Tom didn’t go directly to the address on the card. No, that wouldn’t be proper if there was a funeral there–especially not at four in the morning. First he went back to the small unremarkable apartment that he called home. He had lived in the place for just over 12 years now.

Exiting the subway he crossed into the first rays of the sun pushing their way into the concrete jungle that was his city. A sort walk with the warmth of the sun on his back brought him to his small apartment. It was a simple basement apartment that he could slip in and out of at all hours and not bother the people that he knew were his neighbors but whom he had, in all truth, failed to get to know.

Moving down the twelve steps from the street to his door he fished out his keys and then rammed one of them into the lock. For a moment he dwelled on the past and why the place meant as much to him as it did.

That could be summed up with one word.


With a grunt to push the memories away, Tom opened the door to discover a small calico cat, the last living thing in his life to connect him with her. She purred questioningly at him and he replied out of habit, “Yeah. I know. Look like crap and smell like it too, right?”

His answer came in a flick of the cat’s tail, and then it walked away, no longer interested in him for the moment. Much like he was with the world today; for some reason that didn’t matter right then.

The floor creaked as he tossed off the clothes he’d worn that morning. A quick shower and shave to look semi-respectable, and then he fished around in his hall closet, he found his funeral suit, shoes and tie and changed into that.

It didn’t take long. Before leaving again, he tore open a tin of cat food, filled the old porcelain dish that was the cat’s and left some drinking water before leaving again, catching a cab and heading off to… Somewhere else again…

The cab came to a rough stop as Tom heard the cabbie grunt, “69 69th Street bub. Nine-fifteen for the fare, plus the tip.”

Tom looked out of the window with some surprise. 69 69th Street was… odd.

This was one of the more fashionable, modern parts of town, with gleaming steel and glass buildings, corporate logos plastered all across them. The typical chain stores with their signs screaming at people to buy something within their doors…

But not 69 69th Street… no this place was, well, calm… quiet…. unassuming. Among all of the rushing around, this building was a throwback to earlier times in the city, a brownstone four story building set back from the curb a short way. The windows gleaming in the sunlight made whatever was within invisible for the moment.

Tom paid the cabby and then started towards the wrought iron fence that marked the edge of the property. As he walked along the cobblestone path towards the front doors, an odd thought came to him: this was like following the yellow brick road. Amused, he wondered whether or not that woman that he met in the morgue was named Dorothy. He also noticed that, to either side of the path he walked, there were a series of park benches and trees for shade in the small space that had been carved out…

He then registered the fact that there were no people sitting on them or milling around. If there was a funeral to be held here or at least a remembrance of someone shouldn’t there be people here waiting to enter or at least trying to comfort each other? Or did he mishear the time of the gathering, being either too late or too early for it?

Either way he was here, and time was ticking away.

Taking the four steps to the front door, he noticed the bronze nameplate of the company by the door and the little buzzer and speaker to call for assistance.

Which he pushed.

The speaker crackled and a somewhat distorted female voice asked, “Yes? Can we help you?”

Tom was going to start with the usual lines that all police gave, but then remembered the conversation he had with that woman and said, “I would… if it is possible, like to pay my respects to a sister that passed away…”

There was a short pause and then the voice replied, “One moment please and someone will let you in…”

It was a short wait — perhaps five minutes — before the thick wood door was opened and, to his surprise, the blonde who gave him that blank note in the morgue stood there. She didn’t seem at all surprised to see him, although, for a moment, she brushed her hands to smooth out the black silk dress she wore before greeting him with, “Good morning. Please do come inside.”

Tom shot her a look, but accepted the invitation and stepped over the landing…

…and just about lost his breakfast as he did. For a moment, he thought that he was going to leave a wet chunky spot on the carpet, but then the feeling passed and he found himself looking at the blonde as she shut the door and locked it again.

He coughed and then was about to read her the riot act, arrest her, and take her downtown when he realized that they weren’t alone… and there was a funeral or wake or something going on.

The immediate area around him was filled with couples milling around, talking in hushed tones. Several of them were looking towards him and the blonde with looks that ranged from disinterest to bemusement to… desire?

The blonde gave a little cough to get his attention and added with a nod of her head, “Will you join me in the sitting room, please?”

Tom was torn for a moment between hauling her away and getting more out of her, but finally decided that it all looked legit in his eyes. Making a scene at a funeral would not go over well, and he wasn’t sure but he thought that a few of the people in attendance were city officials… high up ones.

Very calmly, Tom replied in a low voice, “Lady. You have no idea just how much trouble you have created. Where’s your sister? I’m going to have to take her back to the morgue. She was attacked and there is an investigation going on. You can’t…”

The blonde shook her head and then with a nod, offered, “Please, just come over here into the waiting room with me? We can discuss this there and I’ll try to answer your questions.”

Tom finally gave a grunt of agreement and followed her away from the crowd deeper into the building.

She led Tom towards a white trimmed doorway in the wall that opened into a good-sized room. It was not your typical business waiting room with year old magazines and hard, cold, plastic chairs. No, this place was classy. Cherry wood furniture, bookcases filled with what looked to be expensive writings, a large ornate rug in the middle of the room, and a small fireplace in the wall that was unlit for the moment.

Taking a seat in what looked to be a Victorian high-backed chair, she waited a moment before asking, “Would you like a seat?”

Tom shook his head, “No, thanks. Lady, you are in all sorts of trouble.”

Turning to him she said, “I’m sorry for misleading you, but there was little time and I didn’t have a choice in the matter.” She smiled a bit, “My name is Camilla Addison. I’m sorry that I didn’t introduce myself when we first met, but I wasn’t prepared for you to be there. Might I know your name as well?”

Tom offered in return, “Thomas Selleck.”

Camilla placed a hand over her lips and attempted to not giggle as she managed to get out, I’m sorry. It’s just that…”

Tom nodded and allowed a small grin, “Yeah, I know. My mother was in love with the television show, but my dad wouldn’t let her name me Magnum… It’s an ice breaker at parties, however, when I have a fake moustache on…”

She placed her elbow on the arm of the chair and then put her head against her hand, “I’m sure it would be Thomas.”

He turned serious again, “Miss Addison, you understand that you have broken several laws with what you have done and I will have to arrest you for them.”

She just smiled, “I don’t think there will be a problem.”

Tom was getting frustrated and it began to show, “A missing body, a theft, and you think there won’t be a problem? Why would that be, Ma’am?”

Camilla explained, “I am sure that whatever is needed to make that issue disappear is being looked after as we speak, Thomas. My… group is not without it’s resources and connections within city government and the powers that be in your city.”

He paused to consider that and then said, “Group? Are you suggesting that you are part of the Mafia or something illegal?”

The oddest smile came with the words, “Not the Mafia, and nothing that your rules would see as illegal as such, Thomas.”

He had the feeling he was being played with, much like when his cat would tease a mouse before killing it. The frustration grew as he answered, “We should continue this discussion downtown ma’am.” Tom was not happy with the situation and found himself falling back on his training to try to take control of the situation– if he had even been in control of it at any moment since he had met Camilla.

She shook her head and replied, “I think that will not be where we need to go next, Thomas.”

He gave her the obvious reply, “And just why would that be ma’am?”

A new voice came into the room behind him, “Just because.”

Tom spun around and just about fell over from shock…

Standing there, in a red dress, was Jane Doe… very much alive and, from the look in her eyes, not exactly happy with what was going on.

Storm Clouds
By TeraS
Chapter 3

It was her. One hundred percent Jane Doe, complete with mid-length curly red hair and green eyes. He found himself thinking that she looked better in the red than under that white sheet in the morgue. Tom’s next coherent words were, “What the hell is going on?”

Jane replied coldly, “That’s a good question isn’t it?”

Camilla shot her a look, “That’s enough. Show some manners when we have a guest here.”

The reply was a snort of derision.

Camilla tapped her right hand on the arm of her chair before she sighed, “Have a seat, Thomas. She’s not who you think she is.”

He took the chair to her right still in shock. He was absolutely sure that this was Jane Doe. That he had seen her on the slab. Dead. But there she was, angry and looking for trouble. With a sigh Tom ran his fingers over his chin as he attempted to gather his thoughts. In doing so, he managed to reply, “Must be the end of the world. Dead people walking the streets.”

Camilla reached out a hand to touch his arm and explained, “Identical twins. We always had a problem telling the two of them apart. Finally got to the point where we made them get tattoos…” A short nod in Jane’s direction, “Mind you, her sister was not as frustrating to deal with.”

The glare in Jane’s eyes made it clear that she didn’t like Camilla. Nor, Tom thought, that she thought much about him, either.

Tom couldn’t believe that she was right. This was the Jane Doe in the morgue. The face, the hair; It was her, all right, he was sure. Identical twins? Weird things did happen, but this was just out of the ballpark. Still, he found himself asking her, “So what’s your name, then? Can’t be Jane, can it?”

For an instant, she seemed to be considering her answer very carefully. The look of barely contained anger didn’t change for the seemingly endless moment before she came to a decision. Uncrossing her arms, she put them behind her back and then shifted her hips a bit before answering, “You can call me that, if you like.”

Tom wasn’t sure at first if she was playing him or not. When someone was being evasive they looked guilty, nervous, unsettled. Jane looked as if she was ready to snap someone in half if they weren’t careful what they said or did.

But somehow calling her Jane felt right. Whether or not it was her real name was another question. He figured that he could get something out of Camilla or that, when he took the two of them downtown, there would be some real answers given. Still, he couldn’t do that right this minute, and so he glanced at Camilla, “Are you all this helpful when it comes to answers?”

Camilla chucked, “Ask a direct question and you’ll likely get a direct answer Thomas…”

He pondered that as he looked at Jane standing there, unconcerned with him, the police, or. it seemed, anything else.

Save the anger within her that was almost like a black cloud hovering over the room.

Seeing that she wasn’t leaving, he took that to mean that she would answer more questions from him. Tom decided that it was in his interest to get some basic information out of her, so he sorted out the questions he wanted answers to, picking out the ones that were quick and meaningful. Then he said, “Jane it is, then. What’s your sister’s name? The one who was lying in the morgue who Camilla and the goons took out last night?”

Jane didn’t flinch as she answered, “Patricia.” And not another useful word came from her after that to ant of his questions. But it was obvious that there was a great deal of hurt in her eyes, hurt that was feeding her anger. Tom found himself deciding that as odd as the story was so far, there didn’t seem to be a lie in it he could touch. It was also obvious that Jane was hiding something from him that he would need to figure out.

Rubbing his chin, Tom mumbled to himself, “Magnanimous women will be the death of me I’m sure.”

Jane smirked and offered, “You never know what the future brings.  Patricia didn’t.”

Tom managed to bite back what he wanted to say, which was that she should get off her high horse and try to be less of a bitch and more of a human being. He found himself looking at Camilla and thinking, “I wonder how she’s related to her?”

Camilla saw him look at her and began to explain, “Jane… has been out of the country for a while. She came back early this morning after we sent word a few days ago that Patricia had gone missing. She arrived shortly before you did Thomas, and…”

Jane finished the sentence, “I was told she was dead. A wonderful way to return to family isn’t it?”

Tom couldn’t argue that point either.

Camilla told Jane firmly, “The detective is here to look into what happened.”

Jane actually rolled her eyes before giving him a dismissive wave with her right hand, “So you are here to investigate why she was killed then? Or are you here just to make waves in our lives?”

Tom gave her a hard look as he answered, “You want tidal waves lady? Just setting aside what happened to your sister, what you people did in the morgue is a no-no. She was taken from the morgue improperly. There is an investigation going on about that. It’s not my problem but I’m here because I am involved in it. Now, your sister is my case, and maybe I can figure out what happened and why and find the one that did this. That’s why I’m here. I have to start somewhere and…”

He looked at Camilla, “…You were good enough to leave me the clue to this place at least.”

Jane gave a little snort of derision, “Police. Useless beyond words.”

He managed not to growl out the words, “Lady, I don’t know where you were and I don’t give a damn either. This isn’t some two bit country in the middle of nowhere. Patricia is my case to solve, and I’m going to. I’m not going to let this just slide by into the unsolved case files, and you know why?”

Jane just watched him in silence until he answered with a smirk, “I have my reasons.”

Camilla chuckled at his words before saying as she clapped her hands softly, “Touché…”

Tom was about to start asking some pointed questions of them both when there was a soft cough from the hallway. Standing there patiently was a man of the cloth. He looked like the sort of man that you’d like to have as your uncle: a kind face; eyes that held the glimmer of mirth and joy he carried with him; the stature of years of listening, understanding, seeing and helping; a life filled with the joy of doing good work wherever he was needed to be.

He carried a small, old book that Tom took to be a Bible in his left hand — a hand well weathered with time and doing the work of his life. But it was also clear that his hands were the source of comfort as well as guidance where it was needed. He didn’t command the room with his size. No; that, it seemed, was not his way. It was more his easy smile and welcoming stance but, most of all it was just the calm understanding that surrounded him.

He smiled pleasantly to them all before saying, “We’re going to be starting the service in a few moments. Would you care to join us?”

To Tom’s surprise, both women replied in soft voices with deference to him, “Of course. We’ll be right along.”

He nodded at the reply and then said to Tom, “You are welcome to join us as well, mister…?”

Tom stood up and then offered his hand, “Selleck. Thomas Selleck.”

The twinkle in the pastor’s eyes became a little more mischievous as he accepted the hand and gave it a firm shake, “You need a mustache.”

Tom chuckled, “Thanks for the tip. I’ll get right on growing one in the morning.”

The minister laughed in return, “Excellent. We need something to smile over. Patricia would be mad as all get out if there wasn’t some joy here today.”

Then. with a pat of Tom’s shoulder and a wink, he disappeared down the hallway. Tom watched him leave before he commented to the two women in the room, “Seems like a good man.”

Camilla had stood up and offered, “The best. Come on. He’ll be disappointed if the whole family isn’t there.”

Jane turned away with a last scowl at Tom before vanishing into the hallway. He looked at Camilla and said, “Well, I suppose she’s on my not friends list.”

She slipped her arm around his and said, “Well, maybe I can be on your friends list instead?”

He replied to that with, “Tell me the truth after this. Explain to me what the hell is going on and you go to the top of the page Camilla.”

She seemed to be thinking about that for a long time as she stood beside him. Then, mysteriously, she said, “The truth just is Thomas. You just need to be able to see it for what it is.”

As they left the room, Tom found himself wondering what kind of service it would be…

Storm Clouds
By TeraS
Chapter 4

They followed the crowd toward the rear of the building. As Camilla led the way, Tom attempted to fit what he had so far into some kind of explanation of what was going on.

That wasn’t turning out to be simple.

What he had so far was a dead body that was going to be out of his reach soon. A woman who took that body illegally and didn’t seem to be concerned about the problem with the law she now had. A sister of the deceased who was an identical twin. One who he hoped wasn’t going to take the law into her own hands.

Tom sighed and mumbled under his breath, “A beautiful day in the neighborhood.”

They passed through a white marble archway and into what seemed to be a courtyard behind the building. The first thing Tom noticed was that there were trees. lots and lots of trees. Looking up, he found that, with the exception of a small open space in the middle that showed the blue sky above, there was no view up, out, or around the place. It was as if the buildings surrounding the brownstone had vanished and had been replaced by trees. He expected to hear the sounds of the city coming through the greenery, but, instead, all he caught was the occasional low conversation from people here and there as they milled around, and the sound of wind making tree branches rattle in the air.

Camilla replied with that odd smile she had, “It usually is.”

Looking around, Tom saw that there was a series of chairs placed from the back of the brownstone towards the middle of the space. Tom figured something like fifty or sixty people could fit in the space comfortably. Then he saw it. A casket made of cherry red colored wood, past the rows of chairs ahead. Camilla maneuvered Tom along the side to the line of mourners giving their respects. As the two of them came closer to the casket, Tom was surprised by what was there.

A grey calico cat curled up beside the casket on a small chair. He looked at it for a moment, noting that some of the people would stop by the cat, offer a few quiet words, and then move off to find a place to sit. He was about to ask why the cat was there when it was their turn to pause.

Tom watched as Camilla twined her fingers together and bowed her head before beginning to whisper to the casket. He didn’t catch all of what she said. Just the occasional words… “Hope… someday…. remember… missing you already… be fine.”

Tom simply looked at the casket and closed his eyes after a moment. He didn’t speak the words but just thought to himself, “Rest well Patricia. Not giving up.” Then they moved away in the next moment. But Tom stopped to give the cat a gentle scratch behind its right ear and received in return a low purr. Tom recognized it as the same purr his cat made when it was content. It raised up its head and then looked at him with a pair of odd blue eyes before it’s tongue darted out and licked the palm of his hand once.

Camilla said with some surprise, “I’ve never seen her do that with anyone but Patricia… Usually she’s a lot meaner.”

Tom answered as he drew his hand away, “Just good with cats I guess.”

A young man serving as an usher came over and guided them towards the last row of the chairs and then indicated where they should sit. After getting settled, Tom asked Camilla, “How big is the family anyway?”

She replied again with that smile, “We’re all here.”

Then Tom saw Jane pausing at the casket for a moment. When Jane went over to the cat, there was a low hiss and Jane glared at the cat before walking away to take her seat. Tom leaned over and whispered to Camilla, “I see what you mean about the cat.”

Somewhere around them all, a chime sounded. Then another. And Another. To Tom’s ear it wasn’t quite wind chimes, but something very old and meaningful which seemed to catch everyone’s attention making the conversations come to an end and the attention of all turn to where the casket lay.  As the chimes ended, the mourners rose, Camilla nudging Tom to his feet with her elbow.

Then the minister walked down the center aisle accompanied by a woman with long wild raven colored hair that reached most of the way down her back. She was wearing a flattering black dress and a wide brimmed black hat that covered most of her face from Tom’s view. But he was able to pick out the woman’s red lips and slightly tanned skin. It was obvious that everyone but he knew who this was from the nods and whispered words of sympathy.

“Odder and Odder”, Tom thought as he watched the scene. He wasn’t sure who this woman was, but there was no doubt that she was important. Patricia’s mother? She seemed too young. More questions and mysteries to pick at…

With some help from the minister, the woman found her place in the front row, and after a word with her and a nod, he left her there and took his place beside the casket and the cat.

Placing one hand upon the casket he began to speak, “It’s good to see all of you here today, some I haven’t seen in a while, some met for the first time today. And in being together, here and now, we fulfill something important: our longing to be with family. But we should remember that we do not just have to be together in times of need, but in times of joy as well.”

He looked about them all, his eyes stopping on a few as he continued, “If there is nothing else to be found again today, the finding of family, of understanding, of seeing what should have been seen… that is what you can all take from here today. But that is not the only thing that Patricia would have wanted from us today now is it?”

His hand rubbed against the wood, “She would have wanted us to remember the good she had done., the joy she had brought into our lives, the memories and, yes, the promises made for the future, would she not? She would not wish us to think of revenge, of anger, of seeking out a measure of flesh in return for her. Let not the darker thoughts cloud the judgement each of us has. There are other, better ways.”

His gaze paused to look at the raven haired woman, “Rebirth will happen. Whether it is happening today, or will happen tomorrow, a century. or a millennium from now, it doesn’t matter. She will return someday. That much we do know. And. with that moment , the family will be together again once more.”

He turned his eyes to look at Jane, “As much as we miss Patricia, we should never forget that. Ever.”

Opening the book that he carried in his other hand he explained, “Patricia and I had a discussion once. It focused on this passage.”

Looking to the book he spoke clearly to them all, “Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.”

Closing the book he then continued, “We should remember what matters. That in the end love does matter. Does make a difference. Does make the impossible… possible. Each of us, with the love that we share in our lives, makes that possible. Patricia knew that. Believed in that. Made it happen in her own way… and in doing so, she proved the words true to us all. If there is something that should be remembered as we leave here, to return to our own worlds within the world around us. it is that is above all.”

He then closed his eyes, “A moment of quiet for Patricia…”

Tom closed and bowed his head in respect to the minister’s request and waited for him to speak again…

But he didn’t.

Instead, Tom heard the sound of the wind chimes begin again off in the distance a short time later and then to his surprise, the people around him stood, gave a final look to the casket and the minister, then departed. Tom remained seated with Camilla as they did so, watching them all leave. including Jane.

But then he noticed that the raven haired woman was still at the front with the minister standing by the casket. He asked Camilla, “Why aren’t they going?”

She explained, “There is one more thing to do, but that is something she and he do alone when everyone is gone. It’s hard to explain to someone that doesn’t believe in what our family does.”

Tom leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, “Your family is full of mysteries. I’d like one of them to be answered before I leave.”

The next voice he heard wasn’t Camilla’s.

“Would you care to join us Thomas?”

Opening his eyes, he found himself looking at the raven beauty he had only glimpsed earlier. She was, to be blunt, beautiful, Full lips, deep green eyes, but within the beauty was the love of a mother, of a sister, of something intangible. Tom was taken aback by her, and then she favored him with a warm smile as she spoke to Camilla, “If you both want to join us, you know where to find us, my dear…”

Then she turned away to return to the minister, take his arm and walk away from them towards the trees…

Jul 19 2009

Another Succubus Story Idea to ponder…

Sometimes you read a story and the ideas for a Succubus tale just pile in right behind it…

Such as the parody written here about a job opening for a Witch.

I especially liked this part of the article:

Further, an official police clearance will be obligatory stating they are not registered sex offenders or possessed by nymphomanic type succubus tendencies.

Oh that just made the story idea gears in my mind start to turn…

So the story will be called Job Interview…

And now let’s see if I can actually write this for this week to be posted here on the Tale and at the Garden…

I hope so…


Jul 18 2009

Costume yes. Succubus? No.

I’m still looking at all of the succubus costumes that are available and to tell the truth it just seems to be getting worse and worse with every one that I find.

This one is… Well…

I guess if you want to be a slutty Succubus it would work for that…

Double Ugh

This is described as a Sexy Red Hot Devil Costume.


What you get with this outfit is just the costume. Period. Unlike a lot of other costumes available which include at the minimum the horns and occasionally the tail, you are out of luck with this one.

So let’s figure out what this is really worth if you want to look like the model does in the piccy…

Costume, $34.97. Shoes $26.97. Pitchfork $10.97. Tail $3.77. Horns $8.97.

Total for the whole thing is: $85.65 USD.

Sorry but that ensemble is not worth that.

It’s not something that really is Succubish in nature.

I will say that the outfit does demand the CFM sandals. Without them this isn’t going to look even semi-decent…

But this is a lost cause from the beginning and I can’t think of anything that I could do to make this something I’d consider for Halloween….

Tera’s Rating: one-quarter out of five pitchforks

Look elsewhere. Please.


Jul 17 2009

Succubus Graffiti

Well i can’t figure out another way to explain this other than it’s Succubus graffiti…

Succubus graffiti by Unknown Artist

I admit the image is huge and it’s hard to make it out, but I think I can see a pair of wings coming from her back in this image.

Is it a succubus? Well the poster of it originally thought so…

I do wish that it was easier to make out though…


Jul 16 2009

Succubi Image of the Week 82

Poser and DAZ Studio are two wonderful pieces of software for creating stuff. Especially Succubi…

Succubus in the Library

Love the whole image a bunch and it makes me want to use the several hundred things I have for DAZ and Poser here on my computer…

Again, no idea of the creator or where it originally was from, but I would love to know!