Apr 30 2016

A Trailer for the short film Succubus

I came across a trailer, a very short one, for a short film titled Succubus. There’s really no information about this film to speak of, and that’s a bit of a shame really. It looks like it could be interesting, but there’s really nothing to say what the film is about as a whole.

I have to assume that the couple in the beginning summon the succubus that appears towards the end, but beyond that I really have no idea… and I would like to. Perhaps the film will appear somewhere sometime and I’ll be able to see it…

But for now, here’s the trailer:

 

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

https://vimeo.com/128311595

There is one fairly good image of the Succubus, but I do not know the actress’ name or anything about her…

Succubus Short Film

Hopefully I’ll find out more over time about this, certainly I would like to add the work to the SuccuWiki at some point…

But most of all, I would like to know what the story here is…

 

Tera

Apr 29 2016

Silhouette – Tera’s 2016 Birthday Manip

And so the world turns, and this day arrives as it is want to do every year… On this birthday the thing that comes to my thoughts is that of those that I love, the lives we have… And so…

Silhouette by TeraS

Silhouette by TeraS

I cannot take credit for the story, for the words are that of my heart, and here are those words for which I am grateful this year more than words can really say…

 

She came home late in the night,
a crick in her neck, rubbing her horns, stretching her tail,
every bit of her succubish self tired,
used up, ready for nothing.

She came home to a dark house,
everything shadows, everything dark, nothing lit up,
every object two-dimensional and blank,
the same, but then there is . . .

She came upon a package,
all black, flat, and square, but a red bow, and so she pulled,
and the package fell away, showed a new shape,
still dark, but with a scent . . .

She came as she heard the notes,
saw with her fingers, caressed her Song, flat . . . black . . . on fire . . .
burning with need to touch, to taste, to consume,
to sex for all she’s worth . . .

Her lust, mind, body echoed,
alive with her Song, melting with Song—succubi consumed . . .
The clock struck twelve. “Happy birthday,” Song growled
as her red-tailed love came alive . . .
as, in shadows, alive, her love came . . .

 

To all of my family, to all those that I hold, love, hope for and more in every day always…

Thank you for the gift… always…

Love

 

Tera

Apr 28 2016

Succubi Image of the Week 432

Succubi, at least in my eyes, are more than simply beings of sexuality, passion, and seduction. When I find characters that are described as being Succubi, but then be something more than that, it brings up all sorts of thoughts about what they are like, what they see in themselves, and, most importantly, what made them decide to do something… more.

Succubus Mage by Darantha

Succubus Mage by Darantha

This art is called Succubus Mage and is by an artist on DeviantArt called Darantha. You can find the original page on DeviantArt where I found this art here and this artist’s site on DeviantArt can be found here.

The thing that I particularly like in this art is that she doesn’t look stereotypically evil in any way. That’s important to me and I think in being so that adds a lot to her character. She’s not flaunting what she is as well. She could have been wearing very little, looked more sexy and so on, but really that’s not what maters most to her.

What matters, at least as I see things, is that she is more. She is a mage, a magic user, and in that comes the realization that she need not be what others expect her to be.

That sounds, in so many ways, so very familiar…

 

Tera

Apr 27 2016

So where are the curves in this costume?

Curves Devil CostumeThere are some long dresses that do lend themselves into being really lovely gowns and so on. The thing is, they can have slits to show off some leg, a bit of cleavage, even being just tight enough to show off your curves. All of this can amount to something really wonderful. So why is it that some costumes have to add odd patterns and as well, offer them with really odd looking horns, never mind the wig…

This is called the Curves Devil Costume and it comes with the dress and the horns. I can’t really tell if the horns come with the wig or if that’s simply an attempt at making this look better. No pitchfork, no shoes of course and it sells for around $25 US.

I really don’t understand why they put that gold pattern on this dress. It really isn’t totally awful, but that little touch pushes this into the realm of trashy for me at least.

Really do not like the horns, and the wig is not a lot better either. While the wig doesn’t seem to be part of this, that begs the question as to why it was used here in the first place?

The dress needs a hemming, it doesn’t look right, really doesn’t fit the model well, and the sleeves don’t really work. They give this more of a vampire look in being there and I think I’d try to trim them into something more manageable at least.

The thing about mentioning curves is that the dress should show them a bit. I don’t really see this doing so without a lot of work.

I’ll give this two out of five pitchforks.

What money is saved you’ll more than pay in order to make it fit for one and look even a little better for the other…

 

Tera

Apr 26 2016

A Review of Black on Blue by Jeanna Pride

Black on Blue by Jeanna Pride

Black on Blue by Jeanna Pride

A review of the second work in the Incubus series by Jeanna Pride today on the Tale. In my review of the first work of the series, which you can find here on the Tale, I didn’t really find much that I enjoyed in the story for all of the pain and suffering. The second work in the series continues the rather dark and ominous story from the first and in doing so continues to leave so many questions unanswered and left to the side.

Darkness can exist in all of us, it is a question of what happens when you are confronted with it. Some fall, some will not. Some are caught in the crossfire.

  • Title: Black on Blue
  • Author: Jeanna Pride
  • Length: 26 Pages
  • ASIN: B01EBHR532
  • Publishing Date: April 14, 2016
  • This work at Amazon.com

The story tells of:

When Detective Sergeant Melanie Brooks and her hunky partner visit a party packed with political elite in search of a known pimp and escort runner, she can’t be aware that her quarry knows her darkest secrets, and is possessed of infernal powers. She soon finds herself facing the dark truth about herself, her desires and a wantonness she kept carefully hidden. Will she succumb to her true nature?

Melanie has always been the hunter, but she finds herself encountering one that is stronger than she. A battle of control leads to an admission of her own needs and within that, the needs of another. Some choices have consequences, some lives are changed, and in the end, only one can be the winner… if there is such a thing.

Much like the first work in this series, the tone is very dark, bordering on occasion of being close to hopeless. The singular theme of this work, again, revolves around domination and that being very dark, brutal, and heartless. As such, again I couldn’t find a means to enjoy the story, because of my own experiences of the past.

The beginning of the work has some moments, a few instances where the characters tell of themselves, of who they are, what they intend, and that was interesting. But moments after the incubus, who still remains without a name, appears and begins to draw the main character of this work into his world, the story changes.

The encounter starts out somewhat realistic, but it soon turns the corner into fantasy and there comes a point where what happens just took me out of the story completely. The change in Melanie, the gloating of the incubus, the destruction of another character takes the life out of the story and leaves, much like the first work, a lot of pain and suffering behind.

Like the first work, it’s unclear what happens to Melanie exactly in the aftermath, though there is more of a hint given as to her ultimate fate. It’s this part of the story that interests me, but doesn’t seem to be considered. As such, there is a missing part of the story that needs to be told. What the incubus does in the “real world” is one thing. but the larger question is what is the point, why is he collecting these souls and for what purpose?

The writing is still very good, the character development is there. if not too much so. The erotica still doesn’t have a lot of heat for me. Perhaps the author needs to move from the erotica into telling more of the story that the series is underpinned by. I think in that moment, the story will be something more than I have seen it to be so far.

Two out of five pitchforks.

The overall theme of the first work in the series continues and along with it a seeming lack of direction and meaning. The main character, the unnamed incubus, seemingly doesn’t develop, his story isn’t told and there’s just so many questions left by the end. Developing the character to be something more than “just an incubus” would be nice. More so, having a name, and more still, giving his purpose a moment to be told.

 

Tera

Apr 26 2016

A Review of The Warlock & His Succubus by Nicarea Stone

The Warlock & His Succubus by Nicarea Stone

The Warlock & His Succubus by Nicarea Stone

I happen to like stories that have little quirks in them. I also like stories where the Succubus characters are not what most write them to be, that being evil. It’s more interesting to me when they have… a soul.

There are very few stories where the Succubus is innocent. Fewer still with a story that has meaning, that is captivating and is simply quite a lot of fun from beginning to end.

Sometimes the sexiest thing to be, is whom one is.

The work tells the story of:

Cory is a real loser for a Warlock. But things finally start to look up when he finally cast his first successful spell and summons a sexy succubus to his bedroom.

Cory has no luck being a Warlock, not even being able to cast the simplest of spells. A final effort brings Fiona into his life and she isn’t what he expected. He expected an Imp at best and found himself with a Succubus. But Fiona isn’t the typical Succubus. Neither is Cory the typical Warlock either.

This is really a wonderfully fun, caring, and yes, a little bit awkward, story about two lost souls finding one another. It isn’t erotica so much as it is a coming of age story for both Cory and Fiona and in that unfolds possibly one of the most wonderful, heartwarming stories I have read in some time.

The world building is well done, Cory is a well written character with emotion, thought, and he isn’t stereotypical. By that I mean he acts honourably, he cares about Fiona and that comes out clearly in his character. It is clear from the first moment that Cory isn’t going to be any old run of the mill Warlock, he’s going to be something special. That takes Fiona’s appearance to come to the fore.

Fiona is innocent, adorable, loving, passionate and she isn’t what Succubi are supposed to be, at least from what Cory has read. There’s no real feeling of this being an act on Fiona’s part and when the reason for why things happened as they did, it isn’t a stupid or impossible reason all things considered.

While there is some passion in the work, the love between the two characters that comes out really makes the need for erotica nonexistent. The point of the story isn’t the sex, really there’s only one little whisper of that to be seen. It is about the two characters feeling their way through a relationship and where that takes them.

There is a moment where things change for them both, but it also opens a fascinating turn in the story and one that I think closes things off in the best possible way. Beyond that, reading of Cory’s actions in protecting Fiona, what he is will to do for her, how Fiona feels about him, sets up that turn, but also the resolution that works perfectly.

The work closes in a rather quick fashion once the crisis is past and I was a little disappointed in that. How things were playing out I was expecting a part two, or three, or more. But the crisis makes Cory take a chance, and once that is done there’s simply no turning back from it. The ending is, if short, satisfying in it brings Cory full circle and in doing so, tells his own truth well.

Well written, the work stands on its story, its characters and the need to tell that tale is there. It is short, which is a little sad as I was hoping for more. I also was hoping for this to become a series, but the work ends in a way that makes this a stand alone. Really one of my personal favourites of the year. I just wish that the author had taken the chance to take things from the beginning to what comes next rather than skip to the ending as they did.

Four out of five pitchforks.

A simply adored this story, really one of the most lovely, warm, passionate and caring works I have read this year. The ending was rushed yes, I wish there this was a series absolutely. it’s so nice to find a story about Succubi that give them a chance to be more than they are supposed to be.

 

Tera

Apr 25 2016

Something More By TeraS

A short piece today on the Tale, for there was much happening this past while. Still, there are stories to tell, questions to be answered, and amidst all of this so much comes …

 

Something More
By TeraS

 

It was the middle of the night in the Realm of the Succubi, a time when the stars above played hide and seek with the clouds of the sky, with the waters of the Lake, and, sometimes, with those who found themselves out in the Realm having their own games with their own special rewards.

It was the middle of the night somewhere on a place called Earth, in the Human Realm, a time when the moon above played hide and seek with the clouds, with the sands of the desert that scattered into the air, to swirl about making patterns in the sky, and, sometimes, with those that braved the chill of the night to gather about campfires to share stories with their own special rewards.

In the midst of both of these realms, these universes, this existence, sometimes two parallel moments connect, merge, and, for but an instant, the lines are blurred and the reality becomes one.

The fire flickered in its pit, the stones awash in the light being cast upon them. Before there were many souls telling stories, laughing and more. But the night had grown long, the call of rest drew them away, one by one, until one there was but one figure left to watch the fires slowly dim, the embers cool, and the fire draw to a close. She was alone now, in the depths of the night. Her features were hidden by the darkness, though it could not completely shroud her; she was alone with her thoughts, the moments passing as they were want to do.

Until however, a seductive purr came from the other side of the fire: “You look like you could use some company.”

She tried to see who it was, but the fire was still enough to overcome her sight and make the woman that asked the question all but invisible to her. “I was just going to bed. Thanks.”

The voice had some amusement now, which only made her wonder: “No, you weren’t. You’ve been sitting here for a while, and you aren’t going anywhere.”

She smirked: “Cute.”

“If you’d like, I could … toy … with you.”

The word “toy” seemed to have a growl all its own. For an instant, her mind drifted back to a fantasy … the silk bonds holding her wrists and ankles … the glorious feeling of being helpless … whimpering in need as …

… A shiver passed up her spine: “Um … No.”

The purr was a little deeper, a little more suggestive: “Oh … yesss …”

Those words … the touch along her thighs … the nip of teeth … the sucking of lips against her skin …

… Licking her lips, she managed: “Have … a good night.”

“We will … I’m sure.”

When she stood to leave, she looked over the fire and could make out a bit of red, but nothing really distinct. As she turned away, there was one more comment whispered: “Pleasant … dreams.”

She turned back to wish the same, but her breath caught as a pair of amazingly green eyes that flickered in the darkness, illuminated by the fire, pierced her soul. It was a good thing, she decided as she walked away, that she had brought along extra panties.

The winds blew a little stronger, the light of the moon was eclipsed by the clouds, and the night turned dark and deep. A swirl of sand surrounded her, masking the world, but she continued onwards. It was, after all, only a short walk. Not long after that, she approached where her tent was … but it wasn’t. Confused, she looked around, trying to get her bearings as the wind let go of the sands and the air around her cleared. But the moon wasn’t in the sky, and the stars seemed odd, somehow—though she wasn’t sure why, exactly.  But things didn’t stop there: she realized that the landscape itself had changed. Rolling green lands were all around her. So was a forest, something that wasn’t there a moment ago.

She laughed lightly, nervously. It had to be a dream … a really vivid one, but still, just a …

… Her thoughts were interrupted by the lick of a tongue against her earlobe: “… just a dream … I know.”

It was a dream, of course. The voice was the one that made her weak, that caused her skin to tingle. It did in every dream. She wanted to answer, her lips parting to say … something. But the long nails, red, she knew from all of the dreams before, were raking lightly against her hips. Then came the press of soft, warm curves, a hot breath against her neck. This was how the dream always was. She felt owned, possessed, the centre of attention. Unlike the waking world, she craved this attention, the feeling of … her. She needed, so much so that her sex dripped in anticipation.

Her eyes fluttered, became half-lidded as fingers that played her body, knew all of the places to make her pant, moan, and whimper, cupped her mound lightly. A finger played over her folds and her legs parted a little wider, her body slumped backwards, falling into the desires within and without. Not to be left out, more fingers treated her to the pleasures of every little ache and want as they explored her navel and her curves, danced over her bosom, nipped with nails against her now-aching nipples that wanted, needed, begged for the touch of lips and tongue.

Then came the moment she both feared and craved. The fingers left her, the warmth of the one pressed against her still there. Then a long red ribbon was dangled, almost carelessly, in front of her eyes. No words were said, they were unneeded. She took the ribbon, placing the warm silk over her eyes, her nose catching the scent—Goddess, the scent! She felt the ribbon being tied, making her blind, not able to see the one that held her, wanted her, needed … something more from her.

For a long moment she was left alone, anticipating the next moment, the one that she craved to be real and not a dream: fingers dipping, folds parting, a long, slick, wet tongue lapping at her sex, her cream leaking, her moans thrilling her; she wanted, so much, to take off the ribbon and see. Her hands moved to do so, but no. The binding around her wrists … how they were tied … was something she never remembered happening, but it was a dream, after all. Hands kneaded her rear. Her knees wobbled. A firm pinch of one cheek: she understood the command. She would not fall, not falter. She would be … something more.

The moment stretched on, her hips bucking, her lungs gasping for air, her voice mewling in submission, need, and wanting to fly over the edge, a hot white light filling her mind as she came, her submission dripping from her sex, being devoured by the one that owned her, mind, body, and soul. Keening in need, her thoughts stilled, her sex ached as she felt the emptiness within her, but, as well, the fulfillment of being what she was … something more.

The blindfold fluttered away, but she did not see. Her mind waited, needing only to see the green eyes, needing only to obey. Still dripping, still aching, the commands to kneel and to serve were a joy that only made her moan in the pleasure her submission gave. Her hands caressed, her lips touched, her tongue tasted. The mirror of what she was given was returned for the bliss she had in the dream. The twining of fingers in her hair thrilled her. The knowledge that she was pleasure, obeying, serving … left little but a singular certainty: the dream was … something more.

The realization, as it always did, flooded her mind, crashing through her soul, and, as the dream turned to shades of red and black, it was consumed by the white.

She awoke to find herself entangled in her sleeping bag, pinned within, unable to move easily. It took her some time to free herself. Her thoughts while she pulled on a sweater were of how vivid the dream was, how much she wanted … no, that wasn’t true, she craved the dream, the woman within the dream, once more. Hearing the others moving about outside, she gathered her thoughts, tried to dampen down the simmering heat that teased her. Pulling open the tent, she crawled out on her hands and knees …

… and came to a stop when the leather thigh-high boots came into view.

Her sex melted into a hot mess at the purr: “I seem to have lost something.” Looking up, she found herself crawling before a woman with ebon hair, hair never seen in the dream … a smile never seen in the dream … soft, plush, kissable lips, never seen, but just like she felt in the dream …

… and the eyes … the green eyes … the dream could never compare to the reality.

She swallowed: “It … wasn’t a dream.”

The next words caressed her mind: “No, my sweet … it wasn’t a dream. It was … something more.”

Kneeling now, she gazed into the endless green depths of her owner, lover, mistress: “Am I …?”

“Are you … ?”

The words were a whisper: “Am I yours?”

The reply made her shiver in anticipation: “Yes … but something more.”

She liked the sound of that.

In the midst of both of these realms, these universes, this existence, sometimes two parallel moments connect, merge, and, for but an instant, the lines are blurred and the reality becomes one … and those involved become something … more.

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