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

    ground and even had his hand on the butt of his pistol, but he didn’t seem able to draw it. The beast's paws scraped the paving stones. It bent its head toward the unconscious German and the flickering streetlight reflected off its fangs. Its yellow eyes held them all in the grip of a spell. Riquet looked at the fallen German. He could run away and leave the man here. This was war, after all. But this man has not been shot by Communists or blown up by a package bomb. This thing menacing him was unholy. Even under occupation, Riquet had obligations beyond war, beyond Germany and France. Stepping over the fallen SS man, Riquet held up his rosary and said: "Go away." He meant to shout the words, but all that came out was a whisper. The beast threw its head back and howled again, a sound that made Riquet feel as if he were shaking to pieces. Lights flashed on in the windows overhead. The beast took two steps forward and seemed about to charge. Without thinking, Riquet reached into a secret pocket and brought out the other crucifix, the special one he'd carried for 20 years, all the while hoping he would never need it again. Raising it, he said, rather louder: "GO AWAY!" The monster stopped. It lips drew back over its fangs. Confused voices cried out and a brave few stuck their heads from their windows. Riquet felt a single drop of sweat run down his face. His fingers trembled and he expected death at any moment, but he didn’t run. And then… The monster vanished. Once it was out ...
    of sight the cold fear that had stopped Riquet's heart disappeared too. Sagging, he put the crucifix away. He had thought, for a moment, that it wouldn’t work, that the gigantic wolf would rush him, and then... But it had worked. He was alive. He had stared down the monster. This time. He almost tripped over the fallen German as he turned around. With regret tinged by ambivalence, he realized there'd been no need to protect the man after all: he was already dead. It almost seemed like he‘d been struck down by the beat‘s howl. Maybe he had been. Riquet rolled the corpse over and flinched, both because of the awful expression on the dead man's face and also because he recognized him: Max Heiliger, the banking magnate, until tonight one of the richest and most powerful men in occupied Paris. His injuries suggested he'd been attacked from behind. "Don't touch him," said a voice. Riquet had forgotten the policemen. The young one had run away, but the older was still there. He had not let go of his gun. Riquet gently moved the man's fingers from the weapon. "You stayed," Riquet said. "Few people have the courage. You’ve never seen anything like that before, have you?" The policeman looked at him. "Have you?" "A long time ago. I hoped I never would again." "What was it?" "Something worse than a war. Now, let me leave." The policeman blinked. "You'll have to go tell the Germans about this murder," Riquet said. "I can't be here when they come." "You're a witness." "They'll turn me over ...
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