May 14 2013

Desires 77

Being empathic can be a gift, a curse, and more. But it isn’t who you are…


Desires – Beginnings

By BStyles and Tera S

Part Thirteen


Martin couldn’t help but grin, hearing the happy sound of her laughter. His empathic nature also felt the release of her negative emotion, the dark feelings replaced so quickly by such a simple moment of joy…

His smile faded slightly, as her words were mulled over in his mind. “Happy…” he mused. “I am happy to hear you laugh, there’s no denying that.” But that was not what she had asked. It was not an easy question for anyone, let alone one such as he to answer. He sighed softly, glancing out over the ‘house’s scattering patronage. “Such a simple question, yet it is always the hardest to answer…people think it has to be complicated, involved…”

His eyes fell onto that young couple again, the pair smiling and holding hands as they left the coffeehouse to possibly pursue greater affections. “Hmm…in truth, I wish for something more simple…pure…yet at the same time beyond my reach…”


Isn’t it worth reaching for what you believe to be impossible and yet might not be?



May 13 2013

Storm Clouds 191 – An ongoing Succubi Story

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

If you want to read previous chapters, please click here…

Chapter 30 continues this week, Nina tells Tom some things that he didn’t know…


Storm Clouds 191

Chapter 29

By TeraS

The Dark was not omniscient. It was intelligent: It schemed and planned, It moved pieces around a board of its own choosing … most of the time. However, the one whom it battled against regularly knew how to make it even less connected to its plans. When that one had destroyed Its view of the only piece that mattered, there was nothing to be done except what It had done.

It had taken control of a pawn. There was no choice in this; but in doing so It isolated itself from all of its other pawns. It was like having cotton in your ears and dark glasses on. You might have heard something, but not clearly. You might have seen something, but not know what it was perfectly.

This was, for It, intolerable.

But what was more intolerable was that It could not simply be where It wanted because It needed this pawn to gain access to the place, to form a new eye, and to have again what it needed most of all: information.

The accursed of the Realm, they understood that more than any other beings, and that was their advantage, an advantage that the Dark wanted for itself. That was Its purpose behind all that had led to this point: to have what they knew, and to be able to use it.

This was the thing that It could not understand. They had to know … everything. This was the worrisome thing, for the question was what they knew about It most of all. What weakness could they use against It? Could they … end It? For one of the few times in eons, It felt something that could be described as being fear, although It would dismiss that as being part of the pawn It held at the moment and not itself. If It was omniscient, or even more than minimally self-aware, It might have realized its folly … perhaps.

The travel took, according to the pawn’s perception, well over an hour, but Its prize had to be in a place where they would not easily find it. The small, out-of-the-way trailer park, along with the one lodging of the pawn that was in it, surrounded by misfortune, grief, and helplessness, masked Its prize and protected it.

The Dark was comforted by all of the dark emotions that surrounded this place, gaining some power from it and giving a fraction of it to Its pawn. This was the agreement: the pawn wanted power; the Dark was willing to give it … for a price.

The Dark was still amused by how little the pawn understood about the agreement. Eventually, It would see that the pawn understood fully. For now, It needed him, and so it fulfilled what he desired without actually giving more than what he could have gotten on his own. Humans were, It well knew, so easily distracted.

The pawn removed the traps, broke the sigils, and lastly turned the key it held to open the door and reveal the space where the prize was. And, in doing so, it failed completely to notice the shadow that had followed It from the moment It had taken over Its pawn …

From within the shadow that fell across a nearby tree, a purple hand with pink nails rested itself against the bark. For a few moments one finger tapped against the bark as if the owner of that hand was considering something, or more accurately, planning something.

Considering who this was, it wasn’t surprising that she was here and watching It carefully. The tapping stopped as she felt the viewing portal begin to form and waited patiently for would happen next.

There was a snap of energy that only those of magical ability would ever notice and then there came a rumble as the trailer itself vibrated, then stopped. Then the curse came from within. It never should have left the door open really; It was becoming sloppy and, in that, more dangerous. Then she watched as Its pawn was thrown from the trailer and the door slammed behind him as he lay stunned on the grass.

She considered removing the pawn from the field, to stick another pin into It’s hide and make It more angry than before. But she had a use for him, as well, if not yet, so she left him alone and continued to watch from where she was safely hidden. The problem was that she didn’t know exactly what was going on within the trailer, and that stayed her hand.

Within the trailer, the Dark was pleased that the tail was still in its jar, trapped, and held from her kin. It lifted the jar from the floor and looked inside, shaking the jar slightly before gloating. “There you are, still safe and secure. You have no hope except to give in to me. Do so, and I’ll end your pain. What hold does your precious Realm have on you now?”

The Dark finished ranting and then the tail in the jar … moved. The tip rose out of the coils of itself like the head of a snake. It pushed against the lid just once before the heart shaped tip turned to look at the one holding it. A moment passed, as if it was not looking at the Dark, but through it. Then a tired woman’s voice answered it, “No. I will not give you what you want. You have done everything save end my existence. Do so, if you dare.”

The tip turned away, almost dismissively, and then sunk back out of sight, seemingly having said its peace and finished with It.

“What if I gave you new life?”

A pause, then the answer: “I know your tricks and your boons are nothing but traps.”

“Then I’ll find an innocent and force you to join with them.”

“Please do try.”

The Dark paused at that. The tone was not dismissive, but was instead challenging. It understood how Tails were joined, or It thought It did; the information was so tightly guarded that only hints and theories were really known outside of their world.

“You are not Tera. You cannot trick me.”

“No. I’m not. But I am of her Daughters. Do your worst, if you dare.”

“Why not turn to me, to where you came from?”

The laugh this time was certain and strong. “You never made us. You only wish you did.”

The Dark shook the jar once violently and then set it back on the floor: “You will, all of your kind, bow to me.”

The tail answered: “Better luck next time. Now go away and leave me be.”

Everything the tail did and said was exactly how every one of their kind had responded to It in the past. Denial, resistance, and then they just turned away from It because they could. But this tail couldn’t. It had trapped it, imprisoned it, and It held all of the cards in this case. But still It was denied, refused, and, more angering of all, laughed at for Its efforts.

The Dark turned It’s efforts back to making the viewing portal again, for some reason it didn’t form the first time, and so It focused itself on making it again. Again it formed and then collapsed. Twice more It tried, and then the portal formed in the far corner of the space the tail was held in. As the place was unprotected now, It moved towards It’s own place in the darkness to confirm all was well before commanding the pawn to again protect the place. It gave the tail one more look and then swirled away into nothingness.

And then the Dark made a mistake. It left the door wide open and unprotected. In the silence that came after It left, there was the sound of something running through the grass outside … and then it stopped. Then a small, grey calico cat peered inside the trailer, as if checking out the place.

When the cat saw the jar with the tail in it, its eyes narrowed and then it leaped inside. It took but a few seconds to rush to the space under the viewing portal, scratch three times on the floor there, and then flee outside once more. As the cat ran back outside the pawn began to stir. The cat saw this and, before the pawn regained all of his senses, darted into the shadow of the tree, where a pair of purple hands caught and then pulled the cat out of sight.

Before the pawn could gather his mind and sense for her being there, she vanished, taking the cat with her. She promised a favor for help and this she would do … unlike a certain arrogant being of darkness.

It had pawns. She had friends. Something the Dark would never be able to understand …

The Dark, in the meantime had returned to its lair, the remnants of what once had been it’s means of watching its plans unfold. It would take time, much time, to repair the damage, and there was no doubt that she was planning something. The destruction she had left in her wake was not important in the grand scheme of things, however. All that mattered was that one tail It held. Losing the view of It’s pawns was less important, after all; pawns could be replaced, if need be. They were nothing compared to the prize It wanted … no, needed.

It regarded the mirror, and the tail sitting there, with some satisfaction. This one piece of the plan could not be allowed to be free to return to her kind. It knew well that, should what it had done come to be known … the repercussions would be universe shaking.

At least, that was It’s plan.

It was very good at building traps, and to trap Tera and her kind would be the pinnacle of It’s work. To have them all in It’s control would feed the Dark for eons to come. So, It had been planning and scheming for eons before this, looking for a means to enter their Realm, to influence, to take everything apart from within. But every time It tried, something stopped it at the edge. No matter how it tried, whether by possessing, inhabiting, or means even darker, nothing it tried allowed It to pass through. Why could others enter and not It? What held It at bay, and how? This was the question that needed to be resolved, regardless of the cost.

The cost had been high. It seemed as if it would be even more so. But the rewards where tempting and many, and so it continued on it’s path towards …

It’s thoughts were stopped by a partial image in one of the broken mirrors. The image was unclear but it appeared as if one of Tera’s had been in It’s grasp and then tried to flee. It watched as they and … some other being … had been killed by It’s protections.

The Dark would have to punish some of Its pawns, but that was acceptable to have caused Tera more grief at the loss of another of her kind. Perhaps enough that, taunting her or others of her kind, would make it easier for It’s plans to come to fruition.

It returned back to the pawn near the tail and had it set the traps back into place, giving it a measure of power for doing so. It needed this one for a time longer, not much more, but long enough to be sure that this went correctly.

Once the pawn was finished, the Dark moved to leave—It had others to teach how wrong they were not to obey It’s wishes—but paused a moment. If It had been human, It might have explained that it felt as if someone had walked on Its grave. Instead, It felt … uneasy. It scanned the place, looking for a reason to do so, but found nothing. Dismissing it as being echoes of the pawn It had possessed, It vanished.

It had two pawns to deal with, and so It did.



Storm Clouds

Chapter 30

By TeraS

“Where the hell are we?”

The frustration in Tom’s voice was very evident for two reasons: one was that Nina hadn’t told him what she was going to do, and the other was … she blindfolded him, again not telling him she was going to.

“You’re safe, Tom.”

Tom considered that. On the one hand he wasn’t crushed by a window washer platform, so there was that point for her. He was, however, sitting flat on his ass, didn’t have a clue where he was, and wasn’t happy about it. “This has to be a definition of the word that I haven’t been acquainted with before.”

He could hear the smirk in her voice, “What? You don’t like learning new things?”

“I have issues with not being able to know what the heck is going on, Nina.”

He felt a hand—he assumed it was Nina’s—on his arm, “I’ll give you the Reader’s Digest version: you are in a place where, if you could see, it would probably break your mind, and I don’t want to have to explain that to Camilla … or Tera, for that matter.”

“I’m not that fragile.”

She laughed, “Maybe. And maybe you need to trust me like you do Camilla.”

He thought about that, only for a moment, “She’s …”

“… proved herself to you. Yes, I got that. I just saved your bacon … and eggs … and hash browns … so how about you give me the benefit of the doubt and …”

The break in Nina’s rant was disturbing

Tom didn’t like it, “And what?”

Then Nina, more seriously than any time Tom had heard her before, said, “Tom, be quiet and don’t say anything no matter what happens.”

The grip that Nina had on his arm tightened, as if she had seen something that was a threat. Tom began to move his hand to the blindfold to remove it, but he felt what seemed like Nina’s hand, or tail, or something, bat his hand away and she hissed “Shhh!”

Then things got … weird.

There was a … presence. Tom couldn’t see it, didn’t know what it was, but there was suddenly someone … or something … else nearby. Nina’s grasp relented and she seemed almost overwhelmed when she spoke …

“I’m sorry. I know he’s not supposed to be here. I didn’t have anywhere else to go that I could think of.” Tom listened for an answer trying to figure out who was there, but he didn’t hear a single word spoken by anyone other than Nina. “He can’t see where he is. He won’t be able to tell anyone.”

The presence came close. Almost touched Tom, but he didn’t flinch from whatever it was … whoever it was. There was light, or he thought there was, around him, around them … and he wasn’t afraid of it. He should have been; there could have been a threat. But it didn’t feel like it. It could have been dangerous, but that little voice in the back of his head that told him to duck before something bad happened … didn’t.

“No, he isn’t. I mean … he could be … Couldn’t he?”

Tom was trying to figure out what that meant when he felt something brush against his cheek and a voice echoed in his mind softly, “I’ll see you again, Thomas.” He heard Nina gasp—again he wasn’t sure why—followed by a whisper of, “I promise … always.”

Then the presence was gone and Nina spoke with an odd tremor in her voice, “That’s never happened before.”

Tom didn’t say anything—he wasn’t sure he could—so he did the next best thing. He pointed at his lips and then turned his head towards Nina’s voice and starting mouthing words.

Nina seemed sad, “Sorry, Tom. You can talk. They’re gone.”

“Who … or what, was that?”

“Can’t say right now. Not allowed to.”

“Is this a thing with your kind, Nina? Riddles and hints? Not giving out information?”

“You aren’t supposed to know. Only our kind does and it’s something we don’t talk about.”

“Family secret?”

Nina actually laughed, “Oh, it’s a big one. Even bigger than Tera’s age. Don’t ask because I won’t be telling that, either.”

“So, now what?”

“Now we’re continuing on, and then you can take off that blindfold.”

Tom didn’t know what to make of that, either, and then be felt his stomach lurch and twist just like it did when he passed into what Camilla called their Realm before a warm breeze blew through his hair and he heard the sound of birds around him.

“Okay. We’re home now, Tom. You can take it off.”

Tom removed the blindfold and found himself standing in a well maintained courtyard, the grass trimmed to within an inch of its life, the flowers in their beds in precise rows, and not one leaf from one tree falling from a branch.

“Nice gardening. Who’s place is this?”

“Mine. Haven’t been home … for a while.”

Tom considered her as he stuffed the blindfold in a pocket, “Don’t come home much?”

Nina was looking at a building: a simple side-split home in orange brick with a dark brown wood door in front, the door itself oddly marked with what looked to be a symbol that reminded him of the shape … and color … of Nina’s tail.

“Not since I died. Want to come in?”

Tom didn’t know how to answer that and, when he didn’t, Nina just took his hand and pulled him towards the front door.

“Remember I said that I’m a tail? We need to talk about that, I don’t have a lot of time left to do so, and you’ll need to know some stuff when Camilla comes back.” She took hold of the doorknob and, as she turned it, added, “And you can never, no matter what, tell anyone about this. Or I’ll kill you, Tom.”

In spite of his confusion, Tom didn’t doubt she would.

Tom found himself looking at a home that hadn’t been lived in for a long time. Little motes of dust floated in the sunbeams that came through the windows. The light revealed protective sheets covering furniture, the true forms shielded both from dirt and from prying eyes.

This actually made Tom think about Nina more than anything else. All Tom knew was that she was part of Camilla, but he really didn’t know anything else about her. Tom didn’t like mysteries, and here was one of the most complicated ones he had ever seen.

Nina didn’t say anything for some time once they entered the house. Tom watched as she seemed to be transfixed by the stairs that led to the second floor, and by a particular chair in the sitting room next to the door they came in through. Tom glanced around, looking for some sense of who lived here, but, where there should have been pictures, all that remained were nails in the walls and the space here and there on a table where it was obvious a picture should be, but wasn’t.

When Nina just didn’t say a word as she moved from place to place, Tom asked quietly, “How long haven’t you been home Nina?”

She shook herself before answering, “Oh, at least a few centuries, probably longer. Time really means very little to me anymore.”

Tom was going to make a flippant comment, but stopped as Nina pulled a black sheet from a sofa sitting next to the bay windows of the sitting room. She dropped the sheet to the floor and then turned to Tom, “You might as well sit down, Tom.”

He shook his head, “Ladies first. You can have that end, I’ll take this one.”

“Chivalry, Tom?”

He watched her settle in, her legs drawn underneath her and then took the other end of the sofa and sat facing her, “Manners, sure; one of my better points.”

Nina chuckled at that. Tom was pleased that she did. What followed next wasn’t as amusing …

“I think I’ll start by asking what you know about the succubus myth.”

“They take people’s lives, and souls. They are evil. Those are the highlights.”

“I’m a succubus. Or was, once.”

Tom frowned, “You’ve killed, then.”

Nina didn’t look pleased with herself, “Yes. Many times. I’ve done things that are awful, horrible, and evil.”

Tom just looked at her, saying nothing, and, when he didn’t, Nina continued to talk, her hands in her lap with her looking at them and not Tom as she did so. “I cannot make up for all of the things I have done, Tom. I know that I can’t. I can’t bring them back, I can’t do anything to make the past not happen.”

Again, not a word from Tom; just his eyes on her; nothing more.

“I exist as I do now to atone for what I did. I am a reminder to Camilla that … if she isn’t aware of what she does … she’ll …” Nina’s voice trailed off, the rest of the sentence leaving Tom never sure of what she said, if she said anything.

“Camilla doesn’t strike me as the kind to do that. Neither do you. You’re a pain-in-the-ass, Nina, no doubt …”

Nina looked at him and smiled, “Thanks. I’ve had a long time to perfect that.”

“… but stop the self pity, will you?”

The shock on Nina’s face was very plain to see.

“It doesn’t suit you and you are tougher than that. Don’t sugar coat it for me; if you want to dump on me, then do it. Otherwise, we’re playing a game, Nina, and, frankly, neither one of us has the time for it.”

Nina nodded, then stood up and walked out of the room leaving Tom alone for a few minutes before she returned carrying a picture frame. “Here.”

Tom looked at it while Nina settled back in and talked, “That’s me. The real me, or at least the me that existed when I was here. To be honest, I’ve forgotten what I look like. I think that’s part of being a Tail. You lose who you were for who you are joined with.”

Tom looked at the picture, then at Nina before setting it face down on the sofa: “Let me see you.”

“What do you mean?”

“The myths say you can look like anyone. Is that true?”


“Then let me see you: the real you.”

“Tom, I can’t do that.”

“Why? Are you scared, or is it something else?”

“My life is done, Tom.”

“Doesn’t seem to be from my point of view. I can talk to you, so either you are a figment of my imagination or you are here. Which is it?”

“It’s complicated.”

“You keep saying that. Explain it to me as Nina, not as Nina in Camilla’s body.”

“I … can’t.”

“No, you don’t want to. There’s a difference. Look, you said you are running out of time. Just do it, Nina. Camilla won’t mind.”

“How do you know?”

“Easy. She’s not the kind to hold a grudge.”

“She will, Tom.”

“Then I’ll explain it to her.”

Tom picked up the picture frame and handed to Nina, “Show me who you really are.”

May 12 2013

Knowing Mom’s Day By TeraS

Today is Mother’s Day… Miss you Mom…


Knowing Mom’s Day
By TeraS


Mother’s Day.

Usually, it can be one of the most melancholy of days in the Realm for Tera …

… usually.

This year, like every year, Tera would go to her mom’s grave, place a cup of tea on top of Mom’s headstone, and then just … talk. She would talk about her fears, her worries, her loss … so many things that she had hanging over her head for the longest time. Then, always, she would talk about the better things that had happened: the good, the joys, the moments of happiness that somehow in some way balanced the scales, even if only a little bit.

Tera missed her mom dearly. Perhaps she didn’t talk about it much, or express the emptiness that was in her, but she was saddened that she couldn’t hear her mom’s voice, touch her hand, just be with her, if only for a moment …

It was always that moment Tera wanted.

She knew that her mom was watching over the Realm, seeing things, knowing … everything. But, while Tera could see her mother’s eyes among the clouds of the Realm now and again, she was never able to speak to her. Tera had a doubt, hidden away within her, that she had disappointed her mother somehow, but she never knew if she was right or wrong about that.

At the end of every visit, Tera would ask: “Are you proud of me, Mom?” She never received an answer, save that the tea offered would be gone and a breeze would blow through Tera’s hair, gently.

Perhaps that was what made this year’s visit … different. For, this year, Tera found a letter where she would place the teacup.

The letter was addressed to her.

It was in her mom’s handwriting …

Dearest Tera,

Don’t cry.

I know you do, often. I know that you think you aren’t doing your best, that you have failed in many things. You worry that you have done your family wrong in some way. I know.

You are, after all, my daughter aren’t you?

You have a soft soul, one that bruises so easily when you believe that you have made a mistake, a soul that holds so much love that you share without wanting anything back in return. You offer so much to anyone who asks of you and you never ask in return. In fact, I know that it hurts you to accept anything from your Eternal, your Heart, your Brother, all of your family because you cannot see why you are worth anything.

You are more than you give yourself credit for.

But you never accept that because that is not within you. You divert the questions, the concerns about you. You ask about those who wish to help you and turn attention to them from you. You refuse, always, to accept that they want to offer you the same in return. It is, in your soul, the worst thing to ask or accept another’s help. You do this because you do not want to burden anyone.

It is not a burden, my love, to admit that you are not perfect, though I know you want to be. It is not a burden to admit that you cannot find your way out of a problem. But then you are as stubborn as I ever was, aren’t you?

Like mother like daughter, isn’t it?

My love for you is obvious, so why isn’t it obvious that I am proud of my daughter and what she has done? How many souls have you comforted in your life? How many have you shown ways to be better than they are? How often have you sacrificed your own happiness in order to be sure that they are all right? Too many to count, isn’t it?

That is your answer, my daughter. I am proud of you in so many ways that I cannot count them all. I always have been and always will be because you do the best you can with each passing moment. And your best is, generally, quite brilliant.

All you need to do is believe.

Your mother does, Tera … forever.

Tera finished reading the last line of the letter though her tears and just wept. Through her sobs, her tears, and her ache, she did manage three simple words: “I believe, Mom.”

There was the familiar breeze that blew through her hair, but Tera barely noticed for how hard she was clutching at the letter in her hands and the sobbing that held her now.

But this year was … different.

If there had been someone watching, they would have noticed that on the other side of the headstone from where Tera stood … a succubi appeared. She was blonde-haired, her eyes a sparkling sky-blue with little flecks of green here and there. She wore white gossamer robes and a pair of white angel wings fluttered in the air behind her. Peeking from her hair was a pair of little red horns and beneath the robes lurked a long, sinuous red tail … exactly the same color as Tera’s own.

She watched Tera and then took two strides, passing through the headstone and then holding Tera in her arms. She hummed a soft tune and rocked her daughter gently, her tail entwined with Tera’s, as they just stood there for the longest time, not a word spoken between them.
Tera didn’t quite see, through her tears, who it was that held her, but she didn’t need to. The grace, the warmth, the gentle firmness with which she was held told her that it was her mother. There was no question in her mind: “Mom.”

“I love you, dearest Tera.”

Tera just hugged her mother ever so tightly, the tears stopping with the words her mother spoke, that little speck of doubt within her fading away until, finally, it vanished …

… and it never returned. The moment passed, Tera felt her mother’s kiss on her forehead and then … she was gone and Tera was alone once more. But, in truth, she wasn’t.

This made this moment different from all of the other years. Finally, Tera was certain her mother was proud of her.

Mother’s Day was never melancholy again.



The End

May 11 2013

The Succubus Ascends – A Marionette YouTube…

I have never seen a Marionette performance that has a Succubus in it, or it is about a Succubus, or both. At least I never have until I found this really quite fascinating work on YouTube that is…

It is called The Succubus Ascends and is the creation of Sara Lee Hughes.

And if the video doesn’t appear here on the Tale, you can find it here on YouTube:

And, one single frame from the video of the Succubus Marionette, because I find her really wonderfully created…

Succubus Ascends Still

It’s a shame the video is so blurred to be honest, I would have liked to be able to have a better look at the Marionette. At least I can tell her hair is green and her horns are kind of a white, or bone colour. It also looks as if she is wearing a rather formal dress, which I thought was an interesting contrast from what she is intended to be.

The music is really striking as well, and I think the imagery combined with the music makes this a telling story that really needs no words.

I do have to wonder though who she is meant to be. I don’t believe she is meant to be Lilith nor any contemporary Succubi. I will admit that when I saw her hair the first thought I had was that she was inspired by Morrigan Aensland a little bit, but that isn’t right either.

She is, her own being. Some tragedy, some hope, and, perhaps, some promise by the end of this tale…

I do hope so.



May 10 2013

A Review of Demon Lover by Wayne Nix

Demon Lover by Wayne Nix

Demon Lover by Wayne Nix

Time for a review of a story that isn’t about Succubi, and it sort of isn’t about Incubi either. There is a demon in the story, there is a summoning, and there is, of course sex involved…

  • Title: Demon Lover
  • Author: Wayne Nix
  • Publishing Date: June 9, 2012
  • Length: 6 Pages
  • ASIN: B008A9EKI6
  • This work at

The story tells of:

A quiet librarian finds an ancient book and summons her demon lover.

That summary is a bit short so…

Liz is a librarian, she’s forty, and she is curious. She goes to an estate sale and discovers a book there titled Demon Lover, takes it home and discovers that it holds the secrets to summoning her own Demon Lover. She can’t resist the idea and does so… and things get interesting for her, and the Demon, from there.

I didn’t really think much of Liz, she seemed very much the schemer and while some of the moments with her in her bathtub are hot, the summoning has more gore in it than I personally like. As well the idea of her “thrusting” a burning piece of paper into herself and then having smoke come pouring back out afterwards was… a bit much honestly. I understand that it was part of the summoning, I get that, but, really it made me cringe.

The demon she summons is male, as you might expect, he’s a bit different than the typical Incubus in several ways which I won’t describe here, but needless to say when the two of them get together is it a very dirty scene. I would have liked him to be more than what seemed to be a stereotypical sex demon, but his language, appearance, and actions really didn’t make him more than that.

The last thing that made me stop and wonder was the moments after the sex when questions were asked and Liz did something. For all of the steps she had to take, I would have thought that she wouldn’t have been able to do what she did.

I know that’s vague, but it ties into the twist at the end of the story and while it was funny to a point, I think that it didn’t do the story justice. All of the build up and story telling for a one-liner?

Not sure that works honestly…

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

Some of the language is a bit odd, but that I think is because the setting seems to be in England somewhere and I’m not familiar with some of the words used. A bit on the bloody side of things and the ending was unexpected by far.

Not really sure I would want to see this story continue, but if it did I know who will be in control from here on out…



May 09 2013

Succubi Image of the Week 279

A little bit of Morrigan Aensland cuteness for the Succubi of the week this time on the Tale… Personally I like it when Morrigan is drawn cute and not over the top sexy and this work I found on DeviantArt really is a wonderful expression of her I think…

Morrigan Aensland Retro by GoblinQueeen

Morrigan Aensland Retro by GoblinQueeen

This is called Morrigan Aensland Retro and is by an artist on DeviantArt who calls themselves GoblinQueeen. You can find the page I found this work here, and the artist’s main page on DeviantArt is here too…

It’s interesting how the retro art look here really suits Morrigan’s character so well. I especially like how her hair is so striking in this art, really it becomes the focus of the work, and she does have wonderfully artistic hair…

What is more thrilling is, as I have mentioned, she’s more cute here than sexy and I think that’s how she should be drawn. And the cute bats are a nice touch around her too…

Please do visit the artist’s site on DeviantArt and enjoy their lovely art!



May 08 2013

It’s not sexy, it’s not a Succubus and it’s not a Dominatrix Costume either

When I see the word Succubus, that means something rather specific to me. Sexuality, seduction, and class. When that’s followed by the word Dominatrix, well, then that brings to mind a very specific look I think. One that when you see it, you have no misunderstanding about it at all.

But in this case, I don’t think that the name matches the costume… again.

Succubus Dominatrix Costume

This is called the Succubus Dominatrix Costume, and it comes with the horns, the corset, the skirt and the pitchfork the model is holding in her hands.

The necklace and the fishnets are not included, nor does the costume come with a tail either.

It can be found on Amazon, among other sites on the web for, and this I cannot understand, $130 US.

I cannot understand how something that looks like this can possibly sell for that much money. I have reviewed other costumes in this price range in the past on the Tale and just about all of them are so much better than this by far.

The horns are nothing special, the pitchfork is one of those that I truly hate with a passion.

I like the necklace, but that means nothing since it doesn’t come with the costume in the first place.

The corset looks cheap to be honest. The pattern on it doesn’t say Succubus to me at least. I have to wonder if, once again, this was an attempt by a costume manufacturer to get rid of leftover items by repackaging them as a Succubus costume.

This might be, and it’s a bit of a long stretch when I say this, something I would consider if it was the last thing sitting on the shelf. But then I could whip up something better than this with a pair of my own horns, one of my slinky black dresses and a far better pitchfork.

I won’t give this a zero, though it deserves it for the ridiculous price tag.

One quarter pitchfork out of five.

That’s too generous probably.