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

    biting her thumb. Now she approached the corpse, daring to put her hands on the clammy flesh and feel for a pulse. There were steps she should take to ensure permanent death, but she wasn't sure if she had the time or-- Fontenoy grabbed her wrist. She tried to pull back but his fingers were locked on. His eyes fluttered open, and they were the pale amber eyes of a wolf. When his mouth opened she saw canine teeth flecked with spittle. The entire corpse jerked to its feet like a marionette and grabbed at her neck. She knew--from the vacant look in his pupils and the stiff awkwardness of his limbs--that Fontenoy was already dead, but the wolf in him was still in its final throws, lashing out at anything around it. If he died with his hands around her throat he would never release, she knew, so with some effort she grabbed the knife again and, with one shuddering blow, sank it into the soft flesh under his jaw. Blood flowed and his yellow eyes rolled back in his skull. The fingers on her neck loosened. He fell with a vile thump, letting out one final sigh that sounded very much like a whimper. Bethanie stood panting over him. She dropped the knife and wiped sticky blood onto her pants. Numb, she stripped off her bloody clothes and left them there, fumbling her way to the apartment's tiny shower. The cold, warlike part of her brain should have been telling her that staying was too risky, that if anyone came in and found her in the apartment with the dead man she'd be in a cell ...
    so fast the water would not yet have evaporated from her skin. But she hadn't slept in nearly two days and, by her own count, had almost died three times in that span. A malaise of shock and exhaustion made it impossible to care about anything. She scrubbed herself as best she could (she hadn’t bathed in a while--running water worked only sporadically these days). The voice in her head wouldn’t let her go so far as to sleep in the apartment‘s only bed, so she bunked down in a closet filled with the sour smell of mothballs. While she slept, she dreamed (something else she had not done in some time), and in her dreams she remembered the first time she’d ever seen a German, at the old family house in Brittany. The Germans had taken over the house next door as their command post, and Aunt Sophia had feared they'd take this one too, but they didn't. They shared a common well, and the soldiers in their green uniforms waited for Aunt Sophia to draw her water every morning before helping themselves. They were always polite, but she came in angry every day anyway. She warned Bethanie to keep out of sight of them. But one day someone knocked at the door and she, without thinking, answered it. There a man stood, starch-straight. He showed so many teeth when he smiled that Bethanie thought about the voice her Aunt Sophia used for the wolf in the fairy tales: "Little pig, little pig, let me in..." In careful and precise French he said: "Would you allow me to pick some flowers?" Bethanie ...
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