Chapter 1

Debbie was not quite certain when she knew for sure that she was no longer in control of her body and her thoughts. It just seemed like one minute she was good old Debbie Kennedy and the next she was spinning out of control in a vortex of utterly depraved evil thoughts and desires. It was so debilitating that she sat right down on the sidewalk and couldn't take another step. She didn't care if she ripped her stockings or broke a heel; she had to get the ground under her backside for firm support before she fell face down like some crazed zombie or victim of a major stroke.

When she tried to answer a concerned question from a nice old lady that tried to help her back up to her feet, she started talking in a strange language that she felt certain wasn't any language in use in modern times. She rose and steadied her slender frame on the woman's shoulder knowing that the old Debbie was in the past and that she, the four thousand year old female Ghoul, had finally returned to this plane of existence inside the pretty young girl's inexperienced form and had replaced her predecessor's consciousness with her own depraved and ancient presence like a fungus on an innocent soul's surface.

One of her first thoughts was that her new host had a practically unused and chronically frustrated vaginal opening and her rear channel made for those special anal delights she was particularly fond of was entirely untested by male equipment. Thank goodness the girl's mouth had nescient memories of inserted cocks and tasty female slits or she would have thought the banished host was some sort of religious kook with no interest in human sexual exploration or simple pleasure.

She sat down on the nearby bus station bench feeling the hard surface of the wood on her sensitive rump. It awakened her internal juices and she wiggled on the slats like a schoolgirl on the tip of a demanding male finger searching for her special spot. The old lady looked at her with a funny expression on her face and she scurried away as quickly as possible obviously not satisfied with what she saw as being either normal or natural in any sense of the words. That was all right with Debbie because she didn't want the old lady to be telling anyone that the fallen girl had been speaking some strange language that didn't seem right for this day and age.

She searched her purse and saw her address was written on her front door key. When she asked the man selling magazines from a little wooden building right on the sidewalk for directions, he laughed and told her it was "only a couple of blocks down the side-street".

Debbie strode off with a determined gait wanting to get inside a locked door to regain her composure.

The apartment building was one of those old brownstones with the ornate stone decorations that she had always hated no matter what part of the world she came back to life in. These were atrocious gargoyles depicting the underworld in horrific and totally inaccurate design. They almost made her laugh just looking at their fierce inadequacy. She had already met quite a few demons and none were quite this benign.

Fortunately, there was no humans standing around waiting to ask questions and she went immediately to the number on her key which was apartment 301 on the third floor. The elevator was not in working order but she had no intention of getting on it even if it did. The confining space was too much like the tiny area she had spent the last century inside way down in New Orleans inside one of those family-styled mausoleums that featured rats, spiders and the odd ghost lurking in the darkened corners. It was her punishment to be contained there for exactly one hundred years because she had dared to confront the master with doubts about allowing the vampire covens into the sacred city. Next time, she would keep her big mouth shut tight and let it all play out with her interference. Of course, the master was overthrown and the vampires ruled supreme even to this day but she had no axe to grind any longer.

It was a bold stroke of luck that this girl had walked too close to the mausoleum wall and allowed the imprisoned female immortal to clone into her physical being. It had been a long journey to New York City and she was disgusted with how boring this new host turned out to be. The girl never did anything interesting and didn't even smoke or drink her beloved wine or strong spirits. The silly thing didn't even take care of her frustration with her finger or some blunt instrument designed for female satisfaction. She definitely had to give this female lifeform some accelerated training so that her sojourn inside would be as pleasurable as possible and the wise ones knew she deserved it after the long period of confinement just for telling the truth.

She rested under the bed not on it because she had been doing that for a long time inside the darkened space of the mausoleum. A noise startled her awake and she saw it was a black object on the desk that was ringing with authority like some warning bell of fast approaching danger. She picked it up and when she grasped it, the thing spoke to her like some spirit from beyond the grave.

"Debbie, you are late for work. Where are you?"

She immediately assumed the identity of the "Debbie" person and answered,

"I slept too late. I may not come into work today."

There was a giggling from the other end and the unseen female told her,

"It's me, Debbie, Connie, your best friend in all the world in your very own words. Don't be silly. Today is payday and we are supposed to go for fish and chips at the new place on Sixth Avenue."

"All right, I will be there shortly. Tell them I had a "woman's thing" and will be a little late."

Debbie saw a paystub on the same desk with the address of the company and that her department was the accounting office on the ninth floor. It seemed like a good a time as any to fill into her new shoes and besides she might need the funds for some necessity she was not as yet aware of.