By TeraS


There are an endless variety of colours to be found when one goes shopping for lipstick—a variable and varied bonanza of the pigments of the rainbow and beyond. Some prefer muted, more natural tones. Others look for the flash and impact of hues that look best matched with some daring fashion statement.

In the Realm, of course, the colours of lipstick are quite particular, and those colours are poured over by large numbers of succubi. Occasionally, the fortunate members of incubi involved with the testing find themselves being coated in the colours in the midst of assessment. It is, after all, quite an important thing to find the perfect tube of delights among dozens being tried out, mulled over and, eventually, perfected.

Some find themselves applying a shade of the deepest black. The electricity comes from the lick of a tongue that plays upon the sparkling black surface, picking up a hint of the black and deepening the mystery; the charcoal tones give the barest hint of the depths to what the lips, given their moment, can do; how the black, almost if not quite so dark as to be ebony, offers the teasing thought as to what drives the one smiling. The observer is made feverish imagining the feel of those black lips being crushed against one’s own: the black, once perfectly drawn in, now made slick and messy; the prologue to fingers exploring, slick heat becoming wetter by the moment, adding to the black in each suckle, drawing in, and twining around another tongue—moans stifled, lusts burning. Black seeks it’s fulfillment with the lust of another.

While the lusts are a delight, and the black’s tint is just right for the cries of passion, there are other colours to consider. For example, a liking to a shade of green: a green that reflects light in the same sort of way that a certain gown of polished green latex luminesces, drawing attention to the body encased within. Matched to a pair of green eyes—some say so-green eyes—the lipstick itself is pushed to the limit to be as mesmerizing. Slick, the green has just the right aspects to be smooth, tender, teasing and leaving the one being captured by it lost in the verdant growth of a new world: the emerald tint deepens the kiss, collects the thoughts of the other. They fall against the green lips, the delicious depths of the smile gracing them, shattered into myriad tiny jewels of unchecked lust.

The green is every bit as present as the black, giving itself towards the creation of the smile unlike any other; a smile that appears, in its own way, and gives hint to the one who gives life to that smile. These colours could be endless, combinations and permutations that twist and twine around themselves, the results being a particular shade for a particular smile and a particular fire to the wearer’s mysterious seduction. But, as with all things, there’s always one example that is not quite so simple a solution, a specific instance when the colour matters more, represents more, opens the door to pleasures not even dreamed of, passions enflamed beyond the brightest sun, and a smile that becomes an inescapable snare. It is bright colour, one that burns with fire, passion, love, and more.

A red: but there is only one red that will do for each succubish personality.

For one particular pair of lips, one very specific smile, there is but one particular shade of red that can possibly be. The shade has but one smile to caress, one delightful moan to accent, a specific lick of a particular tongue’s path to mark. It is a shade of red that every light and any light catches in just as way as to be inescapable, compelling and, if it be dared to say, enthralling.

But then, eventually, the truth of the matter is that, for that particular pair of lips, coated in that particular shade of red, the question comes to one simple test. It isn’t how that red captivates, nor how it adds to the seductiveness of the smile. Not a thought is given to what those deeply red lips might do, how they would curl around words, stroking them with heat, bringing about moans of delight. There is no thought given to these things, because so few thoughts are possible for the observer.

Not even the inkling of an idea is given as to how the red coating those lips of delight could bring someone to their knees, being left to the mercy of the red caressing their skin, suckling, seeking its way from one keening moan of pleasure to the next. Of course, the author and owner of the smile knows all of this, and that only serves to make her smile more, her lipstick glimmering in the light and the hold her smile has on its target taking all else away.

What matters is the shine that graces this enigmatic, bemused smile and what that shine portends for the one being graced by it. A curl of the lips might turn it all naughty or nice, lustful or loving. The emotional power of these lips is not dimmed by the lipstick that adorns them, but draws the eyes to partake in the delights waiting for anyone graced by these looks.

Lips coated in this particular shade of red both match and enhance the tail and horns of a certain Queen of the Realm …

… and draw attention to how perfect her mouth is, and what that smile of hers will give rise to …

… in the endless, entrancing spectrum of colours that are hers and hers alone.



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