Reaping Her Innocence

I know, I know. I should be working on the Phantom Wolves. But I just couldn't get this new story out of my head and it must be written! It is already halfway done.

This story follows a hellhound-shifter who is NOT your average virgin, who is determined to lose it on All Hallows Eve. Her brother's best friend might kind of ruin all of her plotting, though, for the better.

Check out this little tidbit from Kitseme, the fox shifter turned hellhound:

Grim Reapers are real. No, seriously. One is my brother's best friend. And damn, I really wanted to be boned by him. I wanted to suck on his scythe. I wanted to scream when he came, and beg all kinds of naughty things until I grew hoarse. I wanted him to give me an entire night of little deaths.

I wouldn’t do any of those things. Because that would just be weird.

You see, Azrathe is the hottest of the hot. While I’m the nottest of the not.

Fat ass, wide hips, soft squishy belly… Men don’t really go for things like that.

There was only one thing I had going for me, a great set of tits. Not that I tried to lure Az with them.

Kind of hard to do that when he had taken to calling you Squirt, and playfully tugging the end of your hair.

Nope. I had been worse than friend-zoned. I had been family-zoned. He had put himself into the bro zone faster than I could blink. I was fucked to the 9th dimension of hell.

So instead, I tried to focus on other things. Less dreary things. Like, the fact that All Hallows Eve was coming up and there were going to be some amazing parties. Lucky for me, I had the night off this year.

A rare occurrence, given that I’m a Hellhound.

Centuries before, there used to be an actual race of Hellhounds and Grim Reapers. But for some reason that wasn’t shared with us, they began to disappear.

The job title, power boost, and a life of immortality were given to selected demons and shifters. Well, if they were good enough that was.

Not a lot of people wanted to work for the corporation, but they had to go through extensive training. Few succeeded.

I did though. Because what I lacked in typical feminine physique, I totally made up for in bad-assery. I could fuck some shit up in five different weapons. And my animal? She was a savage bitch who loved the taste of soul soup.

Back in the old days, hellhounds would drag the souls tainted with evil off to meet their judgement. Grim Reapers would be the ones to sever the ties their souls had to their bodies and assist the others across to the Judgement realm in a more quiet fashion. That was long gone. Now, Reapers and Hellhounds work together as teams. Each Reaper had a Hellhound; each Hellhound a Reaper.

The reapers were there to take the souls to the Judgement Realm, and the Hellhounds fucked shit up if the soul tried to put up a fight. We loved that shit. It’s why we got the job.

I usually enjoyed working on All Hallows Eve, there were some interesting souls that came through those nights. Always in the most fascinating costumes. Humans were funny in that way.

But this time? I was going to enjoy myself and lose this dreaded V-card that had been hanging around my neck for way too many years.