The blood was dripping from the tiny hole, I am sat on my hind legs with my ears coned listening for any change in my environment while my eyes are feasting on the dripping of blood, there is a repugnant smell of rotten flesh mixed with stale blood ( you will call it repugnant I call it the perfume of my life). My canines are elongating while the saliva is building and overflowing from my mouth, all while you can hear the plopping of blood dripping from his bell end into a jar waiting to seduce my taste buds. With the sacrificial lamb stretched wide my tongue teases the tip of his penis, swirling my tongue around his head knowing he is fighting the natural reaction all male species have to this form of torture. “tell me where to find her” I know very well he isn’t going to tell me and I don’t plan to stop when he eventually does, because believe me he will tell me. ‘stop playing with your toys and get to work bitch’ the voice of my master is still only mildly annoying so I ignore him and continue licking and sucking my way along the dragon lords penis until he moans and begs for more, at which point my canines sink into the flesh adding more fucking holes.
After three months of penis torture he finally tells me where the fucking bitch is. What is it with Dragons and Wolves hiding their charges in New Orleans? The Dragons have been charged to babysit the daughter of Lilith and dear old daddy (Samael, or as humans call him... Lucifer) wants his daughter back before she comes into her powers. Yep he plans on killing the spawn or breeding with her then offering up that spawn to Adam, you know the son of all who created earth and all that bullshit. So, because the little brat doesn’t have any powers, yet I can’t sense her which means hunting down the one who issued the protection to …… fuck it you get the idea. So what is a hellhound to do with a Dragon Lord who has finally been drained of all but a few drops of blood, who has given me his powers (yep I can take the power when I kill in my lair) and looks like a pile of leather hanging from the rafters? Easy really, I skinned him and fashioned myself a stunning leather coat and boots. A girl has to accessories when she hits earth, Jesus you humans need to spend some time out on the streets if you think all I have told you is disgusting.
It took me a few months, had to detour, but I made it to New Orleans and only left little gift to show New Orleans I was in town and I am shocked no one has been sent to hunt me down, come on I have homes across New Orleans and shelters all over the Bayou keeping the little brats safe, in cages but safe. Each kid has been stripped of her clothing, slashed so her blood slowly drains from her body and just to make sure no fucking feral wolf comes near them I pissed on them as any good wolf would do, you know marking my property and all that. I will say the kids in the Bayou have it a little easier, each kid not only lost their clothes and had my markings all over them, but I gave them a hair cut too, stupid brats were ungrateful and moved a few times. Did you know the blood flows faster from the scalp? Huh who cares. Anyway, I left the doors and windows open too so they have fresh air, bugs to play with and oh yea the only light they get is from the moon. The kids in New Orleans all have red and auburn hair so now and then I take them out with me and pass them off as my own kid but still they begin in the cage, get to stretch for three hours a day, yep arms are above their heads and dangled from a meat hook in the living room, their ankles have been pricked so I get my fill of blood on a daily basis, I mean I am not too good to them I at least allow them to batch in each other’s blood so they feel a little comfort. Then its back into the crate until I need them again. What can I say, Donald Trump really does have great ideas doesn’t he?
So now I have in total three hundred little girls taking up all my property and now I think it is time for me to leave a bit more of my mark for the Paranormal World. The French Quarter was always too easy to cause trouble, what with the drunk humans, every tenth person in this damn Quarter is related to, knows or IS supernatural in some kind. It’s the witches I want to play with. Now some people think all hellhounds can do is snarl, chase and fetch. Well let me tell you something bitch, I am not your ‘typical’ hell hound I am a god damn ALPHA and the masters favourite (at least now I agreed to do his bidding again once he let my Mother do what she wanted and I dumped the Vampyre I dated for a year) so my body has shifted into one of my human forms and I walk into a bar draped in nothing but red material, some jazz is playing and the warlocks are sat at a table with some witches sat on their laps as if this is a whore house. Walking past the warlocks I drop the material and climb up onto the table swaying my hips, chanting a spell naming all the girls I have hostage. While my hips sway the witches hold my eyes with theirs, the warlocks covet my body but my words are all they can hear “ the babes of New Orleans belong to me, bring me the child Lilith once spawned, till then the blood of the babes will be forever in your skin” I knew it was shit but once the words were spoken the material changes to a fountain of blood pouring over their body staining their skin to the colour and smell of the babes I have taken, tattoos appear on every piece of flesh marking the names of the girls I have taken but the words, “Lilith’s spawn” tattooed on the lower lip of each warlock and witch, this way they can taste just what I am wanting. This is repeated in every bar the witches and warlocks hang out in until I am certain the message is loud and clear. “BRING ME THE BRAT”