A unique Vimeo Succubus video

A somewhat different Vimeo short about succubi, it is very short and really it’s more of a test of special effects than anything else. Regardless of that, the overall look and concept I think is unique and might be something to ponder over…

In the event this video cannot be seen on the Tale, please try this link.

As is my usual method, here’s a screenshot from the film that I am pondering over:

Succubus by Ali Chadwick

Succubus by Ali Chadwick

The thing about this video, at least for me, is that there’s a feeling of possession or a spirit coming out from the darkness. I’m not sure if that’s leaving the figure, going into her or just hovering there on the edge of understanding. Regardless, the concept of ethereal nothingness mixed with a kind of dark foreboding worked well here for me.

I have a thought, not much more than that for a story, but perhaps something will come of that thought eventually…



Succubi Image of the Week 536

I like discovering art of Succubi Queens in that how each looks and holds themselves tells a story. An image then this week of a succubi who has a unique look and seems very comfortable in being so.

Succubus Queen by preter

Succubus Queen by preter

You can find the original page on Pixiv where I found this art here.

She’s an interesting character, she looks right, her corset and boots mix well with her wings and overall look. I think her torn leggings don’t quite work for me. Her overall look seems too proper, too well put together for there to be tears to be found.

That said, she has a lovely smile, a relaxed pose and I have a feeling she’s more of a warrior succubus overall. Perhaps not too much so over the top, but she seems to have a strength about her that lends itself to that in my thoughts.

Warrior Queen Succubus… There’s a story in that.



It is a devil costume even with those shoulder horns

The Devilish One CostumeWith some hope, this will be the last appearance of the shoulder horns for some time during my search for a decent costume for Halloween.

That said, last week I wondered about wearing those shoulder horns with a horn headband. This week I seem to have found my answer and it makes me sigh in disappointment.

This is called the The Devilish One Costume and it comes with the sequinned dress, horn headband and, regrettably the pitchfork this model is holding. The shoulder horns are not included, nor are the shoes and it sells for $50 US. Adding the shoulder horns would bring the total to about $85 US.

If nothing else, this image allows a really good look at those shoulder horns and my dislike of them seems to have no bounds as a result. To be clear, I know they aren’t part of this costume, and really given how they look there’s no good reason to be wearing them with a red costume.

Setting that aside, the pitchfork and horns are lousy, the hem of the dress isn’t that nice either. That brings me to the question I keep asking as to why it is that a costume dress can’t have a good clean hem line? What’s happening here takes something that has something going for it and then turns it into something that looks sloppy and unkept.

One out of five pitchforks.

It’s a costume, it’s really not all that nice or sexy really and adding those shoulder horns is a total mistake. With some luck, they won’t be appearing again… I hope.



A Midnight Succubus Party Vimeo video

From time to time I find the occasional fetish video that happens to have a succubus or two appearing in it. When I found a video on Vimeo that was titled “Midnight Succubus Party” I’d hoped that the title might just mean that quite a number of people were playing as succubi at best and devil girls otherwise.

While there is a fleeting appearance of such in this video, it really isn’t a succubus video as such. That’s a bit of a shame really, but there are moments which were at least interesting, if not the main part of the video.

In the event that this video cannot be seen on the Tale, please try this link.

As I noted, there really aren’t that many appearances of succubi here, I counted six and they are really fleeting overall. Still, this is more of a commercial than anything else, so here’s a screen capture of one such moment in the video:

Fetish Factory Midnight Succubus Trailer

Fetish Factory Midnight Succubus Trailer

Overall I found myself a bit disappointed that I didn’t know about this before the event happened, because… well… that’s a story that some know about… Some have an idea of… and a very few experienced a long time ago…

As for the few succubi seen, I think they fit in really well with the theme and the overall look of the gathering. But for me there’s something missing however. Fetish Factory does some really amazing work and perhaps sometime the Queen of the Succubi will appear there…

We shall see…



Succubi Image of the Week 535

Modern succubi, at least those that tend to wear what really can only be explained as “everyday” clothes are somewhat rare. It’s not often that I find art in which the succubus is being casual, not being fully the seductress she is. For this week’s succubi on the Tale, a succubus relaxing and being comfortable as she does so.

Fluffy succubus by thezookeepersboy

Fluffy succubus by thezookeepersboy


You can find the original page on DeviantArt where I found this art here and this artist’s page can be found here as well.

It’s just a neat succubus in a crop top and shorts overall, but her expression really makes things so much of a delight for me. Amazing hair textures, her tail and wings are dearly cute and overall really that describes her best. A cute, fun succubus most of all.



The shoulder horns… return

Fired Up Devil CostumeLast week I shared, or rather ranted a bit, over an accessory of what can only be described as “shoulder horns” being used to sell a costume that otherwise really isn’t a devil costume.

The horns return this week in another example of a costume that claims to be devilish, but without the shoulder horns cannot be.

This is called the Fired Up Devil Costume and, as last week, this costume does not include the boots or more importantly does not include the shoulder horns this model is wearing. It sells for $80 US and adding the horns pushes the cost to near $110 US.

All this costume really is becomes the red catsuits and nothing more. It’s not really all that devilish and it’s bordering on being tacky too.

It is interesting how this image shows how the shoulder horns are worn, but also it starts to show an inkling of what they really look like. Personally I don’t care for this horn option, there’s a lot wrong with it, and if one was wearing a horn headband, this would just look odder still.

As an aside, I think the choice of boots here looks wrong visually, mainly because of that sharp edge between the black boots and the red legging part of the catsuit.

One out of five pitchforks.

Unimpressed, it’s not a devil costume without the horns and I can see them being an issue. So when they are taken off… What’s left?

Not much I would think, and those horns will return… again.



Mourning By TeraS

Today is April 16th, the birthday of my Eternal’s mother, the heart of our family. It is to be, soon, two years hence the day she was called home to Goddess. I was going to write something very sad this week, something that tells, as poorly as it would be, how much she’s missed, what it’s like for my Eternal. But I have written a lot of sad things since then, I’ve been looking for better things to write and, in all honesty, there comes a time when there’s more to life than …


By TeraS


The morning dawned across the Realm with the coming of the sun over the waters of the Lake. Her Son was there to greet the day, a promise to himself that he’d made since his mother had been called home to Goddess. It was, perhaps, a way to mourn that gave a means for his emotions to be calmed—on this day most of all.

He’d promised that he would be better in time, that things would be better. That promise was made in hope, or perhaps in some expectation that the pain couldn’t go on forever. A year ago, the first birthday since … things happened … was one of reflection, of thinking about her, of wishing for the chance to say things not said, to share secrets not revealed, to keep promises and hopes unfulfilled.

The waves turned orange as the sun rose higher in the sky, not really so much to warm him—it was,

after all, not quite yet spring in the Realm. The tea helped some to soothe the cold in his fingers, the shiver that passed through him in the morning dew that began to be burned away as the morning … and mourning … continued.

He was thinking about the last birthday they’d shared, the card given, the smile she’d had even if she’d been so dearly tired; sad memories that only served to bring tears to his eyes and bring rise to the shudder as he took a breath. He hadn’t heard the footsteps or realized that he had a companion, but the voice took him out of his memories back into the here and now.

“Hey, Keith.”

Looking up, he found someone there he hadn’t expected. To all in the Realm she was known as The Receptionist; to all, save for two. He was one of them.

“Hello, Simone. Nice morning, isn’t it?”

She looked across the Lake and mused: “Morning, yes … But this isn’t a good day to be mourning.”

He allowed himself a small, thin smile: “Feels like it is.”

Regarding him through silver thin-framed glasses, she sighed.

The tea went down a little harshly at that sigh. Simone was Tera’s aunt, not his. He’d lost both of his aunts years before. Perhaps that’s why it mattered to him what she thought about things. Tera had her Uncle, their evening chats about hockey and all. Simone didn’t find the connection with Tera after her sister passed on, deciding that being the Receptionist to a young Queen was more important than being her aunt.

It had been different for him with Simone. Somehow she’d latched onto him, or he onto her—whichever was correct really didn’t matter. Seeing the real red tail underneath the all-business persona always struck him as to how much like Tera she was. She’d never allowed him to call her “Aunt”, however; she’d made that very clear from the beginning. In public she was The Receptionist, but, when they were sharing a moment together, the real red tail came out to play.

“Simone …” His thoughts were interrupted by the tall raven-haired red tail settling in beside him, her tail moving around his waist before she placed her head on his shoulder: “When my sister passed away, I mourned her. I still do.” He wanted to tell her that it wasn’t the same, that the hurt was so much worse, but bit his tongue on the reply as she continued: “I’ll think about her at the oddest times. Something will jar a memory loose and … it hurts.”

A memory skated past, a flash of time spent with his mom in the kitchen, learning to make French Toast, of all things. That brought the realization that he’d not made that since she’d become ill, not even thought about doing so until this moment.

His companion of the morning asked: “What are you thinking about?”

The tears weren’t too bad in his admission: “Been a long time since I’ve done something.”

“Why not?”

“I … don’t know.”

“Not really a good reason, is it?”

“No … it isn’t.”

They fell silent for a time, as the sun rose higher into the morning and as the son continued through his mourning.

“Do you want to?”

“Not sure.”

“What’s stopping you?”

He didn’t answer that question, watching the surf roll over the beach with her. When does the mourning end? There’s a limit to the morning, after all. Didn’t there have to be a point where the mourning gave way to something else, whatever that was?

“Today’s her birthday.”

“Yes, I know.”

“I wish she was here.”

“I know.”

Closing his eyes, he found himself watching his mom mixing up the batter, cutting the bread, dipping the bread into the mix before laying it on the skillet. Being shown when the browning of the bread was right, how to flip them over. Cutting up the strawberries; mixing up the whipping cream. Rediwhip had its place, but not on Mom’s French Toast. She never would have accepted that.

Another memory floated by, that of a new young King trying to impress a certain Receptionist one morning by bringing her French Toast to start her day. He remembered her smile, the compliment she’d given at his skill, and how much she appeared to enjoy his efforts. He recalled many a morning when she’d come by and shared breakfast with him, always French Toast, before going off to the Palace to help Tera. He also remembered that he hadn’t done so since mom had passed on. Many mornings spent mourning, and he felt ashamed of that.

“So … Aunt Simone …”

The tip of her tail tapped his side: “Oh I’m “Aunt Simone” now, am I?”

He hadn’t turned away from the rising sun: “Actually, you’re “Auntie Simone,” as I recall.”

Simone didn’t say anything. The hug was enough to remind him that she’d started to make amends with Tera once more.

“You think the stores are open by now?”


“I think it would be nice to make French Toast. She always liked that on her birthday.”

The red-tail seemed pleased at his thought: “Her son, so I understand, is excellent at that.”

He smiled: “I have a very good teacher.”

She teased him, the first time in ages: “I’m sure we can find some whipping cream.”

The laughter in that thought made the moment change. The mourning hadn’t completely been transformed—there was still a long way to go—but the smallest step began with the simplest things. Sharing something loved and cherished with one who understood mattered.