1. The Wolves of Berlin


    Date: 11/27/2017, Categories: Fantasy, Coercion, Consensual Sex, Cruelty, Death, Exhibitionism, First Time, Horror, Lesbian, Monster, Murder, Oral Sex / Blowjob, Reluctance, Teen, Author: BlackRonin, Source: sexstories.com

    Note: Though this is a sequel to “The Wolves of Paris,” it is not necessary to have read that story first. "You never kill anyone you want to in a war.” -Ernest Hemingway, "For Whom the Bell Tolls" *** June 1, 1944, Paris: 1,440 days under occupation. The streetlamp flickered, but did not go out. A pair of uniforms lurked on the sidewalk up ahead. Riquet's feet wavered, but if they saw him run away they’d surely chase, so he kept walking, readying his identity card and mentally referring to a list of excuses for being out late. He plucked at his priest's collar; it was useful on these occasions. Even the Germans knew that too many priests in the jails rubbed the locals the wrong way. "Good evening," he said. "Good evening, Father," said one the policeman, an older man who had the look of one who might have retired already. "You’re out late. I'm sure you know when curfew is." Riquet shrugged and looked at his feet, as if grasping for an answer. Being too quick with an alibi was suspicious. "I want to lie, but I shouldn’t," he said. "The truth is, I was meeting a man selling false ration cards." He affected his best pained expression. "I know it's against the law, but so many more people are coming to our church hungry these days. What am I to do?" It was a good story, as far as it went. Black market food sales were technically a crime, but most flics had stopped bothering to arrest anyone for it. Many were dealers themselves. Still, they were obligated to make a token ...
    objection. "Buying from a black market dealer after hours?" said the younger officer. "And you, a priest?" Riquet wrung his hands. "It’s a sin. But God gave us a world in which we must sin to survive." The policemen conferred with a glance and the younger one stuck out his hand. "Turn over the contraband and go straight home." Riquet fished a card out. Some belts would have to be tightened, but better they walk away with these than with the incriminating material hidden in his other pockets. "God bless--" he said, but before he could say anything more a terrified, bloodied man ran up and grabbed him. The stranger burst from a nearby alley like a wild-eyed apparition, his black-and-grey SS uniform soaked with blood. When he saw Riquet he threw his arms around him and tried to hug the priest's body, as if to shelter under it. "Mir helfn!" he screamed: Help me. Riquet reeled and the policemen stared, dumbfounded. He tried to pry the bloody man loose without shoving him away and his hands were soon smeared with gore." It's all right," Riquet told him. "You’re safe. We will find a doctor and--" Then they heard it: a howl, like that of a dog, but louder and deeper. A huge shape emerged from the alley, something dark and bulky on four legs. It paused at the sight of the men, lowering its head and growling. The German screamed and collapsed. Riquet froze. The young policeman tried to run away but then froze too, huddled in the street with his arms over his head. The older one stood his ...
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