At The Crossing by Suzanne Clay: Monster Fucker #2

Finally, demon sex. Truly, Mock 2: The Speed of Stupid has prepared me for this moment. I wonder if whoever named that first level had this in mind?

Monster Fucker as a series is not at all chronological at this point. I found At The Crossroads here by simply looking up “lesbian monster romance” on various search engines. Suzanne Clay caught my eye(via their second monster romance novella) because, well, they write queer monster lovin’. Surprisingly enough though, this one can’t be called a sapphic romance per se, as there’s an agender character involved!

Not our lead lady, though. Annabel is pretty tame as far as the genre goes, just your regular average twenty-something, presumably-white woman new to the whole paganism thing after decrying the church as cringe, which is right-on because fuck the church. She also has a crush on her straight roommate Kat, and I sighed when I read that. Is this gonna be a shifter toaster oven kinda joint? Kat’s coming off of a bad relationship(they’re gonna kiss, I can feel it), and doing a ritual in hopes of moving the rest of the way on. It involves reciting an incantation and chucking some water over your shoulder at the crossroads. I wasn’t sure if this was a bathwater type situation(it is later revealed to be), but somehow Kat sprains her ankle and apparently who’s doing the incantation isn’t as important as the water getting tossed. Thus, Annabel is tasked with doing the deed. Only one rule; do not look back at the crossroads over your shoulder. Unspecified bad things will happen; maybe demons will latch on and follow you home.

Boyo, do they ever latch on!

Part of it is curiosity. Annabel, being new to paganism, is pretty interested in all of the spiritual entities that come with the religion. Mostly, that means communing with the divine messenger god Hermes, portrayed here as a sort of playful trickster. He’s a lot nicer than Yahweh, that’s for fuckin’ sure. But of course, bathed in moonlight and facing her car, expelling that runoff water over her shoulder, Annabel can feel eyes watching her, several actually. A presence nearby.

Annabel’s old evangelical upbringing means that she is equal parts spooked and intrigued by this, and it only takes her a few visits before she does turn round, half by accident, to lay eyes on that which is watching her. A long, gangly but strong demon of many eyes, appearing at the crossroads. Naturally she runs screaming, expecting a malevolent spirit to skin-ride her back to their home and fuck up everything.

At home, safe from the prying eyes of a literal demon, though? Annabel finds herself very curious. She thinks to herself that the presence at the crossing was simply watching her. Annabel feels elated at being seen without expectation, without the threat of hellfire that came with the church and its ways. Those ways, she decides, are keeping her scared and worried about a world of spiritual interaction that could be something wonderful. At the least, it should be interesting, and she feels the need to continue the ritual for Kat, as much to shed her preconceived Christian notions as anything.

Hilariously, when she does meet this demon again, it turns out she’s been chucking the runoff right onto their face. Oops!

Our demon here is mostly humanoid, but covered almost completely in eyes and scales, about twelve feet tall, has a whiplash ivory-tipped tail and curved horns. Very muscular, which I’m sure isn’t relevant at all! Of course, being the respectful lady that she is, Annabel asks this demon for their gender and/or pronouns, but demons are pretty much above the concept, uninterested even, and so “they/them” suffices.

Such a tremendous creature, one who looked powerful enough to rip her into tiny chunks... and yet they watched her, and never once had she felt threatened.

Yes, dear Annabel, and that is why it’s hot. In fact, simply being watched by our demon friend is hot to Annabel, for the first time feeling pride at being worth watched, memorized and visually devoured. At giving the demon permission to drink in every inch of her. There is a lot of sexual tension between Annabel and this hot, sexy, agender demon creature.

Unsurprisingly this demon is pretty based, honestly. It’s not surprising that a crossroads demon would have a poor view of god-fearing, hateful fuckers, but they go the whole nine yards, deriding them for granting power to no-one but themselves, weak-mindedly slaving under the concept of SIN, which apparently doesn’t exist at all! Very nice. In fact, I personally really enjoyed our demon’s diatribe about how sin is a bad method of coping with emotional response, how no other creatures have a concept of sin, and indeed how humans covet their positive emotions but bury anything else difficult. Instead of understanding every facet of their complex minds, humans reject portions of it at their leisure. Indeed, repression. Bring your hardships to god, and HE(only He) will solve it!

I’m also in love with how the demon says that whether or not they were created by someone, or something, is totally irrelevant. They exist, they feed on negative emotions. Wrath is sticky and hot. They think, therefore they are.

Does any of this sound like edgy, reddit-core atheism? I hope not. I am by no means opposed to the concept of spirituality in general, and I find myself fond of the more disorganized, less mainstream faiths. I am, however, extremely disillusioned with the organized religions that do nothing but oppress and fight and kill, as if they are their own fascist government. Queer people say fuck the cops a lot, and rightly because ACAB, but sometimes I don’t think there’s enough disdain for organized religion in our circles. Raise your hand if you’re neurodiverse and god-fearers tried to beat it out of you because stimming meant you were devil spawn!

Anywho, the talk of feeding on human negativity and the sensing of emotions in general leads to the revelation that the demon can smell Annabel’s desire on her person. Our demon buddy is in ways, more keenly in tune to her feelings than she herself is. Annabel sprints home, apparently mortified that she wants to fuck a demon. You know what’s going to happen, though.

Surprisingly, the reader is made to wait a little before all the good smut kicks in; back at home again lies one of the best scenes At The Crossing has to offer. Having been confronted with her desires by the demon, Annabel point-blank asks Kat if she knew about her straight-girl crush.

Having the experience I do with the genre, part of me was expecting this scene to be sad and morose. But not only has Kat been fully aware of Annabel’s lil crush, saying as much, but when asked she also says that she never expected anything untoward from Annabel and that she knew Annabel was respectful and not a jackass. This reaction digs out the part of Annabel’s mind clouded by the church’s shitty, lying tales of queer predation, and it’s actually really sweet. Instead of being a moment of sadcringe, it confirms and strengthens their friendship. Hell, when Annabel drops by Kat’s room to pick up the runoff in a black minidress, Kat even tells her when asked that it’s good to feel sexy, and to live her best life. Kat is one of those good heterosexuals you hear about.

Annabel sure is in a black minidress, though. Guess she doesn’t feel as ashamed about wanting to fuck a demon now! Props to Suzanne Clay, because the demon refers to Annabel as “little one” a few times and it doesn’t feel offputting or weird. I guess it’s more appropriate when your partner comes from a different plane of existence.

When Annabel finally does admit her lust to the demon, it is at once harrowing and heartwarming and sweet and yes, a little bit sexy. Being newly free of “sin” and a little wobbly on her feet, Annabel obviously babbles, calling it “inappropriate” and apologizing. The demon, however, says something to the tune of I might not have genitals, but I still fuck like an absolute champ, so get ready! There’s also a little bit about how orgasm isn’t the entire experience, and that sexual intimacy even without touch is just as valid. There will be touch, though. It’s a good example of how consent and education can in fact be sexy, a lot of Annabel’s wobbly preconceived notions being shattered and the demon reassuring her in general, whilst also confirming that they’d enjoy fucking the living daylights out of her on a regular basis.

Is demon smut sexy? I’m not particularly into the idea of sex with a very nonhuman demon, which is something you’re gonna hear me say a lot because I am pretty fuckin’ tame sexually. It’s always a touch odd reading erotica that is not to me erotic, but I try to keep an open mind, partly because it’s just good form and partly because many things termed “erotica” have more to offer than just titilation, as I hope I’ve shown you. Are YOU into being tongue-fucked by a jet-black, many-eyed scaly demon twice your size and height? If so, this is your bag. The content warnings on front(bonus points) the novella should inform you as to whether or not you’ll need a free hand.

In terms of character though, the extended sex in the palm of a demon serves as much as a sexual awakening for Annabel, with her and the demon working through her fears and discovering what works for her together in a way that’s altogether much more tender than I’d expect for demon smut. Though the illusion, the potential of danger from sharp teeth, or strong, massive hands is still a core element, it’s actually a genuinely sweet scene, if you can hold off from orgasming into your hand enough to read it.

I did get a chuckle when Annabel observed that, as far as she knew, nobody else rubbed themselves on things whilst clothed. Oh, you sweet summer child. Props again to the author for delicate use of prose and descriptors throughout; I just came off of reading Milk Fed by Melissa Broden, and the amount of times “titties” and “pussy” get spammed in that one left me gagging.

I had another good giggle when Annabel admits that she probably wouldn’t enjoy sex with another human as she does her broad-tongued, strong-fingered, tail-wielding lover. They are massive, she notes; they couldn’t stick one of their fingers inside of her, for fear of splitting her apart. And yet, wat dat tail do doe?

All jokes aside though, Clay weaves a scene that is both spicy and meaningful in nature, really the perfect combination. This demon, they’re a cool partner, because when Annabel says that they aren’t “getting anything” out of this exchange, they reaffirm that they simply get thorough enjoyment from pleasing her, and that that is enough. That no real exchange need take place. It’s sort of a hard concept to wrap your head around, at least for me. I do think highly of this demon, though. Can you marry a demon, is that even possible? This demon seems like marriage material, though. Truly a romantic, if such things can exist on the spiritual plane. Plus, I’d imagine that having a towering demon laid down at your metaphorical feet, begging to fuck you, would be a pretty good ego boost. Demonic saliva, unlike the human equivalent, is excellent lube.

I read At The Crossing twice for this, which is pretty rare for me. Generally I feel that I get most of what I need out of a book in one go; rereads are purely for pleasure, and when I’m trying to keep thoughts fresh in my mind for a review, I tend to avoid it. At most I’ll go back over annotated pages as a refresher. I started that way when I wrote this, because it’s been a few weeks since I first read it, but I got caught up in a full reread eventually. I guess there’s no better praise than that.

On that note, I don’t really have any criticism. Again, I just want more of it. A sequel, direct or not. More tales of newly spiritual women communing with and loving higher beings. For this one to be longer. How does a hoodoo lady like Kat react to “Hey girl, I just got done having the best sex any mortal has ever experienced with a crossroads demon”? How would their time together differ when this demon is summoned to their home as a visitor? Clay wrapped me up in their excellent little world for a bittersweet, wonderful 97 pages. What I expected to be goofy, funny review fodder because “hehe demon sex” actually turned out to be genuinely excellent. Props.