Nov 09 2009

Storm Clouds XXVII – An ongoing Succubi Story

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

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

Continuing the chapter and Thomas gets an idea of where he is… and where he isn’t…


Storm Clouds

Chapter 7

By TeraS

“Thomas, talk to me.”

Camilla stood there, looking quite concerned. Tom found himself looking at her, not with the panic he had at first, but, instead, an odd curiosity.

He let out a snort, “I’m good. You wouldn’t understand.”

“That you lost someone close to you? That you where hurt? Still are? Always will be?”

Tom didn’t answer that. He could, but he felt like she was getting into something that she had no right to. So instead of answering, he turned away from her and looked at the landscape around him.

The rows and rows of grave markers made it clear that this was a place of rest for those that had passed on. For a moment, he wondered how something like Camilla could be killed, and then shoved that thought away.

It wasn’t something that he needed to think about.

Camilla frowned, “You haven’t got a lock on pain, Thomas. No one does. Not ever.”

He thrust his hands into his pockets, “Alright, I’ll assume that you are telling me the truth and that you aren’t going to kill me.” He heard her coming closer. Passing him, she nodded as her tail moved from side to side behind her. “Why me?”

Her tail stopped, “That’s not for me to tell you. If you want to know, you’ll have to ask Tera about that.”

He managed a smile, “Passing the buck or thinking that I can’t handle it?”

A shrug, “Both.”

He walked up to her, looking at how she had changed. She was still the girl he had met not that long ago, just with some optional extras added to her. If he overlooked those, she was still a woman… No. That was wrong. She was what she was, but she didn’t lie to him … that one thing alone made her trustworthy.

“Alright. I’ll talk to her later. Camila, what … why are you?”

She rubbed her hands along the side of her dress, “We aren’t all evil, nor are we all good. We make choices just like you do. Sometimes they are good ones, sometimes they are bad ones, but we choose to do and be what we are.”

“Nice speech.”

She winked, “Thanks… Been working on that for centuries, actually.”

“Now how about the unvarnished truth?”

She nodded, “In short, I believe we are in limbo between light and dark, that both want us and both are afraid of us. You can think of us as wildcards, Thomas, but there is one thing, one promise that we have made that we can’t forget … people like you have to make your own choices, decisions, and actions …”

He put a hand up: “I didn’t choose to be here.”

“Oh yes you did. You chose to come. You chose to knock on the door. You chose to see what you could find out. All of that was your choice.” She waved a hand, “All of this followed because it had to; you would have never accepted a lie…”

He thought about that and came to the decision that she was right. He wouldn’t have let this lie, ignored it, moved on. That wouldn’t have happened because it was not his nature to do that.

“Besides giving me the breadcrumbs to find you, why did you pick me?”

Camilla shook her head, “Can’t say.”

A question came to him, “Tell me something. Are there angels and all that other stuff?”

“Yes. Angels, devils, dragons, faeries, and more are all real. It’s just that your world has forgotten about the wonders around it. … most of the time.”

“So what are you, exactly.”

She looked almost embarrassed, “Beings like me are Succubi, Thomas. There are Incubi here as well.”

He arched an eyebrow, “I’ve heard of those.”

“No. You have heard of something like us, not us.”


“A Succubus or Incubus kills through sex. We don’t. We gave that up ages ago just to be able to be who what we are right now. Independent beings that serve no one.”

Tom thought that over, “Okay, so you split away and you do what you want.”

A slight nod.

“That’s dangerous, Camilla. No rules means nothing to control you.”

A smile, “There is. One very important thing, Thomas. We know the past. We won’t go back to it again.”

Tom wiped a hand over his eyes, “You know that this is all too much to take in.”

Her hand was soft and gentle on his shoulder, “You are, really, one of the few people that can handle this stuff, Thomas. Most people would be screaming and running in circles at this point.”

“What makes you think I won’t?”

“Curiosity … You want to know the secrets. Your mind is wanting to know answers to questions you have had since the day you were born. Most of all, you won’t let yourself back down from a fight, Thomas.”

Tom thought that over for a while. It was true that he was wondering about a lot of things … more than he wanted to be. But three things came to the forefront. He had a mystery. He had a job to do… and he had a promise to keep.

He looked her straight in the eye, “I need a partner in this; someone who knows the lay of the land; someone who will watch my back.”

She nodded, “You always will in our world.”

He offered his hand, “I … I will trust you Camilla. I trust that you will watch my back.”

She took his hand, “I promise. I want a promise from you, too: wherever this goes, whoever did it, whatever it takes, you won’t walk away.”

They shook on it and then Tom asked, “Where are we? Fill me in.”

“You are at, what you would understand as, our cemetary.” She pointed towards the mountain covered in fog at the edge of the markers, “It continues far up the mountain, almost to the very top. Everyone that we can return home is here. Some never return and we are less for that. From the first of us to the last of us, our bodies rest here.”

Then she pointed into the distance to Tom’s right where three figures collected themselves around a marker, “Her family is up there.”

“Let’s go. I want to talk to them.”

It took them a good fifteen minutes of walking until Thomas got his first good look at Patricia’s family. Her husband was talking to their children, trying to explain to them, he assumed, what had happened and why their Mother would not be returning to them.

The husband was a short blond man, unassuming, someone you wouldn’t look twice at in the street. He wore a dark suit in comparison to the children. Looking at the children, Tom was struck with the realization that neither of them had horns or tails.

“Why don’t the kids have horns and a tail like you? Or their father for that matter?”

“They haven’t decided if they want to be like us. So they are simply children with their own ideas and goals. If they decide to become like us, then they’ll have to go through the ceremony and be picked by a Tail.”

“Picked? By a Tail? How does that work?”

She shook her head, “I’ll explain later. Not in front of the children. We protect them from what we are so that they can make up their own minds…”

With that, Camilla’s horns and tail shimmered and vanished, but her clothing remained transformed. As they came within earshot of Patricia’s family she added, “I’d thank you not to talk about it please?”

Tom nodded, but resolved to ask Camilla more questions later about their rules.

Rules were meant to be broken in the eyes of some people…

Reaching the father, Tom offered his hand, “My sympathies for your loss sir.”

He stood and paused for a moment before taking the offered hand, “Thank you. Name’s Brent.” The grip was firm but not overwhelming, although Tom had the distinct feeling that he was being judged at that moment by this man.

A nod, “Tom. I’d like some of your time.”

Camilla went to the kids, soon hugging them and drawing their attention from Tom and their father. She gave him a nod, and Tom took that as his chance to start his questioning, assuming that Brent agreed.

Brent  spoke to the kids, “Okay you two, go with Auntie Camila, her friend wants to talk to me. Now be good right?”

A chorus of, “Yes Father”, and then Camilla and the kids began to walk towards a path leading away from the grave markers.

Brent then rested a hand on the marker which Tom now saw had Patricia’s name on it, “I’ve been told that you are looking into my wife’s death. I’ve been told that Tera asked you to do this. That true?”

“She did, I was before I knew about what you people are. She’s hard to say no to…”

A chuckle, “She’s the Queen. Rarely pushes people, mostly suggests and guides when needed. But she has always let people choose to disappoint her or not.”

“Have you?”

“I’ve disappointed myself.”

Nov 08 2009

The Artist and the Succubus…

I discovered another process YouTube that shows an artist creating the image of a Succubus…


And in case the embedding doesn’t work:

The artist is Shelldragon, whom also has a Deviantart site you can find here.

He creates quite a lot of fantasy images, over the month of October he did a new monster everyday of which this work of a Succubus is a part of…

You can find the completed work here:

I haven’t received permission to post a copy of this work here, but it’s only a click away!


Nov 07 2009

Wearing The Succubi Horns – Horns of Seduction by James

This past Halloween and October was the first writing challenge in the Succubi Realm… I’ve posted a story that I wrote a couple of weeks ago and this week is a story that James generously wrote for the contest…




Horns of Seduction

As soon as she stepped in the door, Chloe began scanning the room for available guys. After all, it had been a week since she and Brad had broken up; it was time to get into the game. And, besides, she looked pretty damn hot in this costume if she did say so herself. 

Chloe had a way of collecting men. Most of them she threw back, of course—they would be much too much trouble to feed and paper train—though she kept a few on fairly short leashes . . . one literally, at least for that one long weekend. 

Her girlfriends teased her that her birth certificate was wrong, that her name should really be Cleo, as in “patra.” Sometimes that was meant to nudge her, and more than a little; her friend Andi insisted she was “Queen of De-Nile” because all she thought about was boys and partying and not the real needs of real people around her.

But Andi was off at some boring charity event, entertaining poor inner-city kids with lame games and candy in some smelly old gym. Chloe was at this delicious party, waiting for some lucky hot person to be the first to put a drink in her hand, dressed like all those jokes. Actually her Cleopatra was more of a Cecil B. DeMille-ish wet dream version: a gold lame, floor length, sheath and spaghetti-strap sandals with three-inch spiked heels. Her wig of shoulder-length, jet-black hair left her looking like Elizabeth Taylor’s younger, slightly slimmer cousin, from those old movies where Liz was HOTT. She surveyed the room, knowing she was the queen.

Spying a rather hunky-looking centurion—how appropriate—across the room, she slinked toward him, ready to let him put those chiseled good looks to work. There was some sort of game going on, a set of fake devil horns being passed person to person. This was of no concern to her . . . until somebody popped the horns on her head.

“Hey, these don’t go with my . . .” But those words weren’t even out of Chloe’s mouth before the world around her wavered and shifted, leaving her in a stone room lit by lamps, quite alone. “. . . outfit!” Chloe looked down, and, while she was still wearing a sheath, decorated with various beads, it was hardly gold lame. The CFM sandals were replaced with a much simpler variety. Her skin was darker, as well.

“No they do not go with your outfit! Not at all!” Chloe turned to confirm that she was not alone. The sultry voice belonged to a shapely, leggy redhead with a tan even deeper than her own. The woman’s skin was almost red, and she had striking green eyes, and black horns coming out of her head, with a matching tail. “You have been sweet in your devotion to me, even if your scribes keep portraying me as a cat in the official record. But we have work to do, Your Majesty.”

Your Majesty?” Chloe puzzled. “Just what are you talking about?”

“I know we have . . . enjoyed each other, Cleopatra,” the strange and alluring woman purred as she rubbed up behind Chloe, “but now we must work. You must be prepared for this Roman who is coming.”

“But Julius, he’s . . . so old, much older than I am!” How did she know that?

“It doesn’t matter, darling. You must do this for the sake of your people. We’ve practiced many things these past few weeks.” The titian woman bit into her young friend’s shoulder, while her long nails traced the opposite ear. “You have been paying very close attention, yes, Majesty?”

It was now Chloe . . . well, Cleo . . . who was constantly purring. “She thinks I am the Queen of ancient Egypt, and it looks like I am, so what the hell?” she reasoned. “All I know is this feels wonderful.” In her purrs was a simple “Yessssssssssssss.”

“You know that this is a subtle art, don’t you, my precious?” A hand was now reaching under Cleo’s dress and cupping a breast, rubbing the dark brown circle into a rock–hard and majestic peek before moving on to the other. Her subject’s quiet moans only seemed to grow more fervent and wanton. “There is very little that is forceful or blatant.” A tongue flicked the young queen’s earlobe between phrases. “All of your moves need to be sensual . . . delicate . . . tantalizing.” That tail of hers, with its piked end, was winding around Cleo’s leg, the arrowhead itself finding and probing her rapidly dampening slit.

“These are the ways of a succubi, darling,” the black-horned siren sighed. “It is not about sex—well, not sex alone—but seduction and sensuality, and it is never entirely about the self, but the other, and about our place in the collective.” The Egyptian’s juices were beginning to trickle along the tail that was releasing them. Cleopatra was entirely beguiled, and her otherworldly mentor continued: “The romantic ensnarement you will perform is for the sake of others, but you will feel these feelings you have had with me. And you won’t need these anymore.”

A hand snatched the horns out of Chloe’s costume wig, and she was back in the party, though feeling a bit damp. There was the centurion. She quickly chatted him up and had him ensorcelled. He was ready to find some beers and a room when she had a thought, and pulled out her cell: “Hey, Andi? How long is that party going on? Can you still use some help? Great!”

She turned to her hunk: “I’m going to a better party, sweets, one where I can make a difference. Of course, you can come along . . . and Imight make it worth your while later.”

In a corner, there was woman with black horns, green eyes, and a smile.

Nov 06 2009

A really cute Succubus Mousepad…

I really love the art that people create that have Succubi in them…

This art is on a mousepad, but I’d love to see it as a small poster or mebby a small art print someday… somehow…

Succubus Mousepad by Miyuki Taito

The artist is Miyuki Taito, other than that I know little else about him or his other works…

You can see this on sale here.

Lovely wings and look of her, though the tail seems a little bit off… Not quite a devil tail is it?

He did another Devil Girl mousepad  as well:

Devil Girl Sitting by Miyuki Taito

You can see this on sale here.

Again, her tail seems really odd…

Still, I love the Succubus art he created a bunch!


Nov 05 2009

Succubi Image of the Week 98

This week and next, I have found two really wonderful images of Succubi that I want to share with you all…

And here is the first one:

Ivonne_II by... Who?

This is just gorgeous… I wish that I knew who the artist is exactly…

Any ideas as always are welcome!


Nov 04 2009

This Succubus Costume is a mistake…

It’s after Halloween and i wanted to share something that someone at my office was going to wear to a Halloween party… The sad part is that she bought this at the last minute…

Sexy Hot Devil by Leg Avenue

I could have given her one of the many I have in my closet that are better than this is…

Anyway, this outfit consists of a rhinestone decorated bustier, a fringe skirt, tail and horns… The stockings, shoes, and gloves and crop are not included in this…

I just think that this looks far too cheap and trashy…

It’s something I wouldn’t even consider as an outfit no matter what…

You can find this on sale for $80 US, which, having seen it, I think is vastly overpriced…

Half a pitchfork out of five…


Nov 03 2009

Temptations XXXIII – The Grotto – Part III

The story continues on, bringing more questions to be anwered…

Maybe the Hunter and the Mage will figure out a game plan…


Temptations XXXIII – The Grotto – Part III

By TeraS and Thamior and Cyprusmage

The man in grey squinted slightly, viewing his pattern more closely. The spacial warping of the pocket realm made it difficult before, but now that they were within close proximity, that no longer applied. The man was definitely human, but carried that odd fluctuation to his pattern that said he was…somewhat gifted.

“Lemme guess,” said the grey man, pointing his way, “Hunter? Yeah, thought so. In that case I’m guessing you can tell I’m a mage. I bet you got a tip-off about this place, right?”

Tristan relaxed ever so slightly as the man across from him spoke.  He hadn’t attacked, or even made a threat.  In fact, he seemed to be more at ease with this place and odd voodoo going on around here than Tristan was.  Had the young hunter found an ally without actually looking?

“Yeah….hunter would be on the money.  Guess the outfit sorta gives it away.  Not like something you’d see at the mall,” Tristan said with a nod of his head.  “Yeah, this place seems to be drawing a lot of attention to it.  I was asked to come check the place out.  Lots of interdimensional energy wrapped around this place, from what I can tell,” Tristan offered.  He didn’t have the sort of powers where he coul actually see these pocket dimensions like the man across from him could, but he could tell when things weren’t as they appeared.

“So what could be significant enough to draw a mage and a hunter to the same library?”

“Not what. Who,” explained the mage, “This library is the home of an entity called Tera, I’m not sure if you’ve heard of her. If you haven’t, then you oughta know that she’s one of the most powerful beings in this or any universe. Especially here. Don’t worry, she’s harmless…Sorta.”

The mage pinched the bridge of his nose, and continued, trying to put all the facts into a few short sentences. After a few seconds, he continued, “Anyone who gets inside here does so because she lets ’em. No matter what you did to get in, if she didn’t want you here, you wouldn’t have managed. Sooner or later, we’ll have to find out why she wants us here. Just do yourself a favour and play nice. She doesn’t like violence.”

Tristan listened carefully to his companion’s explanation, a somewhat grim look hidden on his face the entire time.  The name struck a chord.  He wasn’t the most well educated when it came to myths and legends, but every hunter in his family was raised to have a rather basic knowledge of what sorts of creatures they might face in the field, and what some of the greater powers that be were.  Tera was one of the names mentionned, and he quickly searched the library of his mind.  Powerful demoness, supposedly a succubus.  That was all he could manage to remember at the moment.

“I’ve heard of her…once or twice.  Nothing extensive…” he paused, listening to the rest of the explanation.

“So she’s allowed two adventurers into her realm…I guess toying and manipulating civilians became a bit boring,” Tristan said with a slight chuckle before offering out his hand.  “My name is Tristan, by the way.” As he did so, the fold of his cloak slipped to side ever so slightly, revealing the glimmer of a pistol’s barrel.  “Oops…guess they won’t be of much use here…” he mused.

“So, I take it you’ve already come in contact with the lady of the library?  Any guess as to what the next move is?”

His expression lightened, losing the somewhat put-upon look he had been wearing since Tera sent him on his way. Giving a brief smile, he shook Tristan’s hand.
“John,” he said. Once the formalities were over, he placed both hands in his pockets and glanced about idly at the library shelves. The hunte- Tristan’s question was a valid one, albeit slightly mis-informed. Explaining Tera’s actions was difficult, as it was so easy to view them as evil, when they weren’t…At least, most of the time they weren’t.

“Not sure what we’re supposed to do now,” he said, brow furrowing as he stared down the aisle, “Tera told me that the people who come here do so because they have a good reason. Not sure exactly what she meant by that, though. But if my guess is right, she means we’re here for what she thinks we need, rather than what we want.” he then looked to Tristan, “I came here to secure this area, and we’re both here to make sure it doesn’t cause trouble. I doubt that’s why she let us in.”

John looked about, trying futily to track Tera’s presence within the realm they both occupied, again to no avail. After a few moments silence, he sighed, “I guess we’d better go meet her. She’ll want to speak to us both eventually. Just…be careful around her. She’s not evil, but she can still be dangerous. She…this is a kind of game. Her game. If you win, you get something important, something that’ll make you happy. You lose, and you belong to her. As gifted as we both are, we might as well not be here. We’ll have to use our brains for this one. C’mon, let’s go.”

Tristan’s expression remained stoic almost the entire time John was speaking, although here and there he seemed to dip into a state of deeper thought.  From the myths he remembered and John’s description, this wasn’t the type of demon that they would be able to vanquish.  Indeed, they were already at a severe disadvantage in terms of raw power.  They were in Tera’s world.  They had to play by her rules.  And her rules were what entertained her…and more likely than not, nullified their strengths.

“I suppose the question is,” Tristan began, following up John’s first comment, ” does what we need coincide with what she wants.  I’ve met charitable demons…but they’re far and few between.  There’s always an angle.  We’re both here to make sure things don’t get out of hand…but clearly there’s only so much we can limit here.  Maybe we’re here as a last chance to save those who can’t save themselves…although I doubt Tera would bring us here for that if she believed we had a legitimate shot at success…” Tristan mused.  It was depressing to think about, the motivation of a higher class demon.

“We might as well go back from where you were…either there or on the ground floor is where I would suspect her to be,” Tristan pondered, dwelling silently on this notion of a game.  What could he possibly want from this woman?  He followed John at a close but safe distance back to the area where he had last left Tera…


The Queen always has an angle…

I’m good at pool after all…