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

    Maybe, if times were different, other things would be different too. But Bethanie had work to do. She reported to Velin about the traitor. She omitted the parts he was better off not knowing. Then she went to her tiny cubby of an apartment. She didn't come here often and would have preferred to have no residence at all if she could have managed. Outside, Paris was blue twilight and grey shadows, studded with winking yellow lights. Antoine's man was coming into the city. Liaison after dark was particularly dangerous, but not as dangerous as leaving an Allied agent alone in the middle of the city, so she didn't have much choice but to go. She dressed for a night out: a light sweater, a short, pleated skirt, striped stockings and flat shoes, like the cafe girls all wore, very zazou, perfect for a teenager sneaking out after curfew. She went out on foot so that the noise of her bicycle wouldn’t advertise her coming, though it meant it would take over an hour to get there and escort the agent to his safe house. It was an insane risk, but someone had to do it. If she were arrested or killed, well, it had been bound to happen. And if the werewolf found her...she hugged her sweater tight around her, so she could pretend that her chill was from the night air, even though it was, in fact, a warm evening at the start of a warm summer. She thought about the death notices the Germans posted, the familiar red flyers with black borders and the names of the condemned in black, along with ...
    the litany of charges: "Shot for sabotage." "Shot for spying." "Shot for participation in anti-German demonstrations." "Three Communists guillotined." "Reward of a million francs to whoever denounces the perpetrators of the following attack..." The gun, the noose, the guillotine. She thought, let it be one of these that kills me. Not the wolf. The night brought her a nasty shock: at the meeting place she found not one man but three, one American, one Englishman, and one Frenchman. They explained to her that they were a "Jed Team" initiating "Operation Sussex." The words meant nothing to her. They wanted to be taken to her superior officer but she explained (as politely as possible under the circumstances) that if all four of them went wandering around much longer they'd be reporting to no one but the police. It was luck that the safe house was near and luck that it had room for more and luck that the two extra men were not assumed to be spies and murdered on the spot. But Bethanie had trouble imagining luck would last her for the next big risk: getting to safety herself. It was another dark night. She kept to the alleys. Bethanie was just barely remembered when these streets and cafes and cabarets would have been full of people at this time, but those memories were another world now, leaving dark windows, empty sidewalks, and suspicion behind. The sound of an engine at the mouth of the first alley warned her to stay back. Lights washed the walls a dingy yellow. Another six ...
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