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

    side a man with no uniform kept company with two perfumed creatures. They gave her a sideways look and in return she gave them a wide grin and perfectly placed eyebrows, a look which translated, in any language, to "Get me killed and I’ll make sure you regret it." They apparently decided they had enough problems between the two of them and returned to fawning over their faceless customer. He and Von Choltitz were deep into an argument about matters of state, though the general seemed to believe that discretion was the better part of valor in such confrontations, as he said only one word to the stranger's ten. "All I mean to say is that we out here in the field have no notion of what's really happening," the man said. "We're like ants in a thunderstorm: we contend with the drops that hit but have no notion of the size of the maelstrom." "You don‘t, maybe," said Von Choltitz. "That's the mistake of men with rank: You assume you're too important not to know what's happening. But you have commanders of your own, and what commander ever told his subordinate everything in a war?" "Dietrich knows more than you think," the blond woman said. It was the first Bethanie had heard her speak, and it was apparent right away that she was drunk and probably had been for some time. "Not long ago he met with the Fuhrer himself. Two entire days--" "Halt die klappe!" Von Choltitz said, so loudly and so forcefully that a man at a neighboring table dropped his fork. The blond woman blanched and ...
    buried her face in her wine glass. Von Choltitz sat up straighter (something Bethanie wouldn’t have thought possible) and said: "She speaks out of turn. Obviously if I had met with anyone I couldn’t speak of it." "But you have met him before," the stranger said. "Once," Von Choltitz conceded. "A long ago. I even met with him in the...I'm sorry, the words escape me. My dear, what would you call the 'Wolfsschanze?’" Bethanie realized the question was directed at her. She wiped her mouth and blurted out the translation before she realized what she was saying: "Wolf's Den." "That's it," said Von Choltitz. "The Wolf's Den. That's what they called the eastern command in those days." The back of Bethanie's neck prickled. "From the looks of you, you'd have been scarcely more than a child then. Tell me, have you always lived in Paris?" Behind his monocle the general was inspecting her like she was the last cut of meat at a market. She reminded herself that she was supposed to be playing a cover here--another perfumed pet here to entertain important men like Von Choltitz during their layover. She opened her mouth to produce a sufficiently cheerful and meaningless response--and at the last second changed her mind. "Would you know the difference if I hadn‘t?" The other women stared. The general didn't flinch. "You must remember the day the occupation began. I often wonder what people feel under such circumstances." "Boredom," Bethanie said and, with one quick stabbing motion forked an ...
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