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

    Fontenoy stepped out. She was angular and pale, like the prisoners who escaped the camps. Her features protruded, as if her skull was not entirely the right shape, and her hands seemed to be misshapen too: too long, too rough. She snaked her head from side to side and breathed deep, nostrils twitching. “I know your scent, Chastel. It makes me hungry. God I’m hungry.” Bethanie slipped on a broken board. Her hands groped for her gun but she remembered she didn't have it. There was no weapon around except splintered timber too flimsy to matter. Madeline‘s lips drew back over her teeth. "Madeline!" Bethanie said, and the sound of her name seemed to stop the other woman for a second. Bethanie stood. "You don't have to do this. I talked to Jean. He wanted me to help you." A pause. "Is he all right?" "He's…he didn’t make it.” Madeline screamed, and then she began to change. Bethanie had heard the stories but never actually seen it happen: the body splitting apart as something too big to have ever fit inside it unfolded, the limbs twisting into new forms and the face stretching with the painful crack of bones and flesh turned to shapes they were never meant to have. She looked away. She knew that the sick, helpless feeling that was coming over her would probably paralyze her in a second, like it did for almost everyone. The only plan she could think of was, perhaps, to use the wolf's size against it by finding some place it couldn't fit into. The rectory? There may be a window. It ...
    was a pitiful chance, but she was out of time. She heard the heavy thump of a too-large body dropping to all fours. She had to go now. Bethanie managed only a few steps before she tripped again and stumbled against the altar. That's it, she thought, that's the mistake that kills me. She’d lost a precious second, and the wolf was already too close. She felt shock, anger, disappointment, and finally resignation. She thought about Dulac forcing the Germans to look him in the eye while they shot him. She’d do the same, and then all of her obligations would be discharged. Something caught her eye as she turned, a crazed web of light on the floor: The ground was strewn with shards of colored glass. She had spilled the box with the remains of the broken window. The biggest piece was almost six inches long. Without thinking, she reached for it. The sharp edges of the glass felt somehow reassuring as she wrapped her fingers around them. The werewolf was a dark shape in front of her, lean and mangy, but its head and paws huge. She was a ragamuffin girl, alone in the world, thin from hunger and wearing stolen clothes, with no armor and no real weapon. But at least she was a Chastel. Closing her eyes, she charged and waited for the inevitable death. It didn't come. For a second the world turned to crystal, hanging still and suspended all around her. Then she felt a warm dribble of blood on her wrist and smelled the reeking breath of the werewolf as it groaned right into her face. Confused, ...
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