1. The Wolves of Berlin


    Date: 9/17/2015, Categories: Dark Fantasy, Coercion, Consensual Sex, Cruelty, Death, Exhibitionism, First Time, Horror, Lesbian, Monster, Murder, Oral Sex, Reluctance, Teen, Author: BlackRonin, Rating: 0, Source: sexstories.com

    Jesuit had told her. She'd always known about the Oath and the Beast of Gevaudan. Every generation of Chastels had their own chapter in the family's never-ending crusade against the devil's wolves. Even Bethanie's old aunt had lived up to the Oath when her time came. But Bethanie had never thought her time would really come. This war was her whole life. She didn't have room for another. The laundry was dark, though she suspected that, down in the cellar, Velin would still be working. He never seemed to sleep, but he never seemed to tire either, or at least did not show it, for the sake of morale. Lucienne might be there too, cleaning the press with her one good arm. She wondered about those two sometimes. They spent too much time together. Those sorts of attachments endangered everyone. Bethanie was careful to make no friends in the circuit. Because she was the youngest the others tried to look after her, and Lucienne in particular seemed to want to act a mother, but Bethanie never allowed it. A good agent should have compatriots, but not friends. Good agents loved their circuit, but not their circuit members. Good agents were willing to lay down their lives for each other, but were just as willing to let each other die for the good of the mission. The more you knew about each other, the more you could be made to give up under torture. In the hands of the enemy, a friend was a weapon. She thought about this as she kicked together a bed of cleaned clothes. She dumped her ...
    boots and slung her jacket over the back of a chair, but other than that she slept fully dressed, as was her custom. In the old days, being too obviously unwashed made you stand out, but now all but the richest Parisians looked as ragged as Bethanie. She liked it better this way. Soft living made soft people. She wanted to be hard as well as cold. Her new enemy would be cold and hard too, she knew. That was their way: hunters and hiders, in equal turns. The priest said the wolf killed Max Heiliger. She was a fan of its work already. Maybe, with any luck, it would kill a few more Germans before she had to kill it. Maybe-- Someone struck a match. Bethanie jumped up and grabbed the man in the dark corner, digging her bare feet against the floor in hopes of finding enough traction to throw him. She was small, but she'd been taught to fight since she was old enough to stand. She could overpower a larger man if she took him by surprise. But in the flickering light of the match she saw that the man was Fabien. He waited for Bethanie to let him go, and then touched the flame to his stub of cigar. "You startled me,” she said. "You weren't paying enough attention." "You could have just said something." "What if I'd been the Militia? Would they say something or just shoot?" Bethanie was annoyed, but pride was for hot-blooded people, just another way to get killed, so she quenched it. "You're right," she said, and sat back down. Fabien sat down too, his back to the adjoining wall. He passed ...
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