Hi,

Parasite Child here. My life has never been the same, since I've been shot and left for dead, so many centuries and millennium ago, by one of my dad's miserable skanky-skeezer hoes. All this 'cause he refused to leave me and my mom (dad's legal, by the way wife, folks); but then, he should've never told the bitch that to get into first her heart's strings then into the Promised Land-her panties...

THEN...

I was dying. At thirteen years of age. A thirteen year-old little girl, who made the mistake of trusting an adult. And finds out the woman did it-shooting her-as a form of revenge because the girl's dad refused to leave his family for her.

To save my life, whatever small portion of a soul I was born with, had to be sacrificed. I was to go into what I later found out a Healing Realmnite Sleep, meaning I would have to enter into a time-undetermined medical-induced coma. Not only that, I would also .have to become a Realmnite Parasite, to feast on souls, to live, to make up for losing my soul.

Terrific.

Wonderful.

Just absolutely, fucking excellent.

Shit.

Goddammit, Shit. Not just any old regular Parasite, but A Realmnite Soul-eating, devouring, sucking, DRINKING Parasite. That's worse than becoming either a vampire or werewolf. At least THEY GET TO EAT FOODS AND SOLIDS, and TASTE AND ENJOY THEIR chosen NOURISHMENT.

My mom went into crying, hysterical fits, when she was told of my dilemma by the Realmnite Sorcerer-Healing Physicians, wasting zero time blaming my equally-grieving father for what was about to befall me.

She screeched at Dad, tears freely streaking down her face, tears of both heartbreak and resentful hatred, "A Realmnite Healing Sleep?! That's a thousand times WORSE than what happened to that Rip Van Winkle guy. At least he only slept for 25 years. Our daughter is about to take The Big Sleep, all because you just COULDN'T find the guts, to keep your pecker in your pants!"

Yup. I was about to break good ole Rip Van Wrinkle's record-by several thousand years.

Fantastic.

I have to sleep for at least 6,000-Plus Years. Maybe more.

All the world I knew will be gone. Dead. And life will continue, without me, as usual.

All my family, friends, every thing, no longer exist. Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead...

Shit. Triple Damn.

As Realmnite-Hellite mystics prepared me for the Mother of all Big Sleeps, I mentally vowed I'm gonna get that hoe who destroyed my life. My family. I'm gonna not only survive this, but I will thrive, come what may, no matte what the cost.

And when I get well-and, believe it, I WILL-I'm gonna somehow find a way to travel back in time here, and make that slut pay. And pay. And pay...

NOW...

6,400-PLUS YEARS LATER (and then some)...

PLACE: THE CENOBITE LANDS, somewhere in the HELL TERRITORIES

I've been having the best time of my After-Life the past three, four weeks. Being pampered and spoiled, while resting and relaxing comfortably on a recliner sofa-boat in the middle of the hottest lava-brimstone filled swimming pools at a pleasure resort in one of the better parts of the Hell Territories. My body hooked up to dozens of Cenobite I.V.-needle thin chains, both arms, and fed intravenous liquified souls of the damned dripping into me. I found myself smiling as I've contentedly listened to their psychic screams of unfathomable, indescribable physical, mental agonies, the sounds relaxing and soothing my tired ears. I watched different Cenobite Gash passerby wave 'hello' my way, while on their way to various duties of torture, and grinned back at them when waving back. Now and then a Cenobite Engineer passed by, carrying newly-created works and materials in their mutli-arm embrace, their mouths wide showing frightening rows of rear-end fangs and teeth, grinning happily. One or two of them would see and acknowledge me, chirping their hellos my way, a third one slowly placing one or two 20-bullet guns down on the ground closer to where I was resting. "Thanks, guys, the guns look so cool." The third Engineer placed two small, but technology advanced Cenobitic versions of Magnum .45 guns on the ground for me, each bullet deeply, and professionally carved run-up style, garlic, arsenic, and cyanide poisons inside. If the bullets doesn't blast the would-be victim into mush, killing him or her, the poisons combined with the gaic definitely will. The victim(s) would die, slowly, horribly and painfully.

"Thanks, dude", I praised the engineer tasked with custom-designing my weapons, "love the bullets. You Cenobite guys are the BEST!"

All three Engineers cheer and chirp their happiness at the compliments. But it's true. They ARE good. And they know it. One of them made soft cooing sounds, and added a razor-sharp switchblade down beside the guns, it's dark eyes glazing worshipful my way. They knew I always appreciate their handiwork.

Leaving happy and feeling appreciated, the three Engineers go about their business, back to their workroom. They have to constantly build and create materials of torture for all the Cenobite gashes, for later usage of torture to those pathetic Human Mortal bastards (and bitches) unfortunate enough to find and use those Damn puzzle boxes. Whoever open up those boxes would soon be in for an eternal of mindless agonizing pain. Everyone works in the Cenobite kingdom. Well, almost everyone...

Raven-haired, beautiful-and totally spoiled assed-Angelique, Princess of the Cenobite kingdom only watches me chilling out from the head of the pool, she was being attended to by half a dozen Hellite demon males of varying degrees of monstrous appearences; some were more hideous than others. Some were half-human, the other half Reptilian, Spider, Insect, Feline, Canine, whatever. She didn't care which, as long as she was always getting royally laid, or given (receiving) oral loving, always receiving, never given.

Wearing only a teenie-tiny spaghetti-thin bikini bottom that left almost nothing to the imagination, Princess Angelique kept herself busy, reading the latest issue of BloodGut Magazine which was famed for showing explicit, grisly photos of souls getting slowly, hideously tortured and multilated beyond gory recognition. "Now, this is the proper way Royalty such as myself, should rightfully be treated", she sighs, "I am a Princess, and should be known everywhere in Hell, as is my due". She sighed softly, as a demon male massaged and carressed her womanly petals between her legs and smiled as he gingerly licked, lapped some love-cream that slowly oozed out from deep her depths.

Gross. I didn't need to see that. Whatever happened to going to room?

Conceited, anyone?

"I wouldn't know, Ange", I replied, addressing her by her nickname only those in Hellite elite Blue blood circles are entitled to acknowledge her, "I'm only a working class creature, not some rich muckely-muck slob depending on others to do things for me. I prefer taking care of myself." I then slightly dipped my left foot in the comfortable lava-hot swimming pool waters, gingerly wriggling my small toes inside, shaking my head while watching Angelique getting both her feet massaged, and both her neck and back rubbed with expensive-smelling oils and lotions by some of the male demons. I immediately felt my face flush, instinctively turning my head the other way in disgust the moment one of the demons, a half-human, half-alligator busied himself using his long, thick, reptilian tongue to give the Hell-Princess oral pleasure between slender, creamy-white thighs. "Really, Ange, really? Doesn't the word, 'privacy' means anything to you? You could've gone to one of your private suites and get serviced, if you wanted to get laid. Or devoured downstairs, you know. Sheesh. Thanks a lot. I can't under that now."

"And get to miss seeing you blush, everything I command one of these male servants to pleasure me? Like this-" The demon male spreads Angelique's legs as far as they would go and began going into town. Ugh, nasty. "Ooohhhhhh, this feels soooooooo good", she moans, as the guy devoured the unholy hell outta her, unmistakable slurping sounds of heavy-duty sex, "oh, yes, yes, this really , really GOOODDDDDD!" Besides, I really DO like watching your pretty face turn dozens of shades of blood-red. It makes me laughs and amuses me".

"Gee, thanks a fucking, shitting lot, Angelique, as if I like watching folks performing sex acts. Damn, woman, you're such a cosmic perv". Gross.

The daughter of the Cenobite kingdom only laughs at my discomfort, a deep sultry laughter that sometimes drives droves of Demon dudes to her, to eagerly please her in bed. Her sexual adventures was well-known in all of Hell, and her appetites sometimes embarrasses and enrages her father, Leviathan, Ruler and God of the Labyrinths of the Cenobite Hell-Kingdoms. She's all the talk. Many times Leviathan had to punish his spoiled, sluttish daughter for putting her sexual needs before the Order first, second, third, fourth, etc. Prideful, boastful, and possessing an arrogance that sometimes puts the Hell-King and Devil-Lord, Satan-Lucifer's to shame, Angelique didn't care. She'd gladly do anything for sexual satisfaction.

Hers.

Unfortunately, the only demon dude she only truly wanted that she felt was good enough as an eternal consort or mate didn't want her.

The Hell-Priest, Xipe Tolec.

He refused to even share being in the same room with her. She disgusted him. No matter what she did or said to get to try him interested in her, the dude STILL didn't want her. Angelique soon developed an lurid obsession for him, dreamt-if demons could dream, that is, I don't the Hell know, whatever-of him becoming her five-star, and rule all of the Cenobite kingdom, side-by-side. He her King, she his Queen.

Not happening.

Not happening.

Definitely not happening.

Shuddering and her lovely exotic facial features darken slightly with undiagnosed sexual pleasure, Angelique moves her head side-to-side, moans, groans and hisses with carnal delight. As the demon continues thrusting his tongue roughly, almost brutally in an in-and-out motion, greedily slurping while delving his tongue deeply more and more inside whatever passed for her womanly core. "Deeper, harder, deeper," she screams, the beginnings of a powerful orgasm striking her, she felt the throbbing, non-stopping magnificent raw sexual pounding between her legs, as the demon between her creamy milky-while thighs worked his magic. "Yes, yes, yes, yyyeeesssssssss," she shouted delightedly, the pounding deep in her caverns built its way upward, climbing beyond the mountains to beyond the skies.

Bursting out rivers and streams of hot, creamy sex-rain bursting out from her deepest depths...

And that was when Daddy Dearest (or at least his Voice) books out of nowhere, "Angelique, you have disobeyed my orders, my commandments for the last time."

Oh, unholy Triple Shit, I thought, that girl really did it, this time. Papa Hell-God is MAJOR-PISSED.

He boomed, "I know WHY you are doing this. This is because I've refused you my Favored Son, the one you want as your eternal consort, your life mate. And THAT was only BECAUSE he refused your sexual wares, and wants nothing to do with you."

Bitter, she jeered, "It's that Kristy Cotton Mortal Bitch he wants, doesn't he? I'm a PRINCESS, Damn it! I am the most desired, the most beautiful woman in all Hell, no male, Demon, Mortal or whatever, have ever resisted my charms. But yet, Xipe wants, desires and loves that Cotton slut! Unacceptable. What that little Mortal skank has that I don't?!"

"Youth. Beauty. Intelligence. Class. And most importantly an unlimited capacity for creative cunning and deceit that impresses even Me. A woman who always thinks on her her feet, no matter how dire the circumstances. Time and time again. And one who uses her intellect, not her body, to get what she wants..."

I thought, ouch. I mean really, really ooouuuuccchhhhhhhhh.

Angelique screams. She couldn't believe her father was comparing her magnificent self to that whining, scraggy horse-haired, mewling, pathetic little bitch, Kristy Cotton. She looked as though she's about to have a major heart attack, and stares at her God-like father, shocked and furious at him for complimenting that little Mortal bitch. Her face looks as if it were saying, How dare he?!

"Father, that was soooo not fair. Sacrilege. Kristy's body looked like bare meat and bone, no curves, substance-challenged. It's bad enough that Xipe pines for that Mortal she-creature like a pre-pubic schoolboy, obsessed with her, wanting HER as a life mate, when he could have ME. I'M the one he should be pining for, and desiring as wife-mate. ME, not HER. Why can't he want me?!"

Lord Leviathan's powerful, booming voice exploded with jeerful, contemptuous laughing, the sound loud and ear-splitting near-painful to my ears. Angelique seethed at her father's cruel laughter but was wise enough to keep her mouth silent. She'd better.

"SILENCE! I already gave My Favored Son permission, to court the Mortal young woman, for she possesses all the qualities demanded as a future Queen of these lands, long ago. She proved herself, time and time again, to prove an formidable adversary to those wronged her, and she'd make an excellent Cenobite Queen.

"You, however, prove to being a sorry disappointment, for all you care about is receiving sexual carnal pleasures, instead of you performing Cenobite duties. You are always shrinking your Royal responsibilities and duties; as a Cenobite Princess, business should always come first, not having sexual congress with all and any male Cenobite and/or Hellite male that comes your way."

Huffing and puffing, Angelique protested, "Father-"

Lord Leviathan booms his disapproval, "NO! No more excuses. You've defiled my commands for the LAST TIME, Angelique. The absolute LAST TIME. The next time you will converted, and remade into a Cenobite, and no longer get to enjoy this body granted you long ago.

"You are now DISMISSED. GO. And get out of my sight. You are a deep disappointment to me."

Damn, that's so messed up. Dismissed publicly like a servant, or some poor peasant person looking for crumbs to live...