Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Decadence.  [Copywrite BC Alucard(c) 2007]

   I decided to write this, as I enjoy both War and Gothic novels, this is
kinda a made in between short story.  I freely give my friend Yuriko
Shoujoai permission to include this story with her own, Enjoy.....  PS Feel
free to drop me an email at bc_alucard@yahoo.ca if you like this story.  BC


   Briefly Otto closed his eyes, he remembered all too well, the starry
black nights, the endless snow and ice, so cold that it caused weapons to
jam, anything metallic to shatter, the wind that blew through their
threadbare Black Waffen SS Uniforms.  His enemy might not have understood
much about a tactical withdrawal or any warfare tactics for that matter,
but they had bravery and a seemingly endless supply of fresh troops.  It
had seemed that all his men did was retreat.  His unit had retreated all
the way from Stalingrad, fighting one rearguard action after another, every
skirmish whittled away at his command.  They had retreated at every step.
No more joking about advancing on Berlin.  They began by retreating across
the steppe of Mother Russia, into Romania.  Soviet forces herded them into
the forests of Transylvania, where they were finally destroyed.  When there
was no diesel for their vehicles, they marched, when they could march no
more they walked, until they finally just stumbled along.  When there was
no ammunition for their weapons they used knives, bayonets and their
trenching tools, even rocks and sharpened sticks.  They had no food except
what they could steal from local, better armed, civilians.  He had
originally commanded five companies.  When he finally surrendered he alone
was able to walk.  Of his five hundred soldiers, only five, excluding him
were alive.  He remembered the prisoner of war stockade, a barren square of
an uneven farmer’s field, open to the elements, demarcated by
rusting; blood encrusted barbed wire.

   Vivid flashes of victorious, well fed and clothed drunken Russian troops
bellowing with laughter as they shot indiscriminately at or near their
helpless prisoners.  Then an officer was among them.  The shooting stopped.
Otto looked out, it was a woman.  The royal blue piping along her cavalry
like uniform pants, matching arm, and hatband of her peaked cap indicated
she was NKVD.  The Russian peasant soldiers shrank back; a bullwhip was
thrust into her brown leather belt with shoulder-straps and was balanced by
a holstered pistol.  A PPSh 41 Sub-machine Gun was slung almost casually
around her neck and would be instantly accessible, should it be needed. 
The clearly visible rank tabs on her shoulders indicated she held the rank
of first lieutenant, definitely not a person any common Russian soldier
liked to trifle with, even though it was plain to see she was a very
pretty, slim, young woman.

   She pointed at Otto and ordered one of the rabble to bring him to her.
The man did as ordered, hastily clubbing Otto to the ground with his rifle
but before grabbing him by the neck of his filthy uniform, dragging him
towards and throwing him at her feet.

   “Are you Sturmbannführer Otto Gunther?” She asked in German.

   “Yes.” He replied in Russian.

   “Come with me.” She ordered in the same language, holding
out her hand.  Her hair was flaxen, with eyes of green, like a cat’s,
and the same implacable stare.  With surprising strength and feline ease
she pulled him to his feet.

   Otto stumbled after her.  His boots had been appropriated upon capture;
his bloody feet were bare, and sore.  He followed as she walked with
catlike grace in knee high laced up brown boots through the filthy rubble
towards a muddy, scraped and dented Allied armored troop carrier.  The
white circled star recognition device had been crudely painted over with a
red hammer and sickle.  Although American in manufacture, it resembled the
famous Mybach Halftracks that he and his Unit had used while serving with
Rommel in the Afrika Korps.

   She opened the rear door.  “Get in!” She ordered.

   Otto stumbled and fell into the vehicle, sprawling face first onto a
carpeted floor.  He looked up.  This was no ordinary armored troop carrier.
The original canvas roof had been replaced with steel, making the interior
dark and gloomy.  He could discern that the interior was pristine white;
the two rows of seats had been removed and a desk and leather covered
chairs had been bolted down in their place, also, to one side, was a large
bed and table.

   A woman asked in Romanian from the shadows.  “You found him
Elle?”

   “Yes Comrade Colonel.” The lieutenant answered in the same
language.  ”Sturmbannführer Otto Gunther: Born 6:00 PM July 6, 1906
in Hanover Germany, to Fritz and Isobel Gunther, both deceased.  He joined
the SS in 1939, after induction, he transferred to the Waffen SS.  He saw
service with the Sixth Pioneer Division in Poland, Africa and Stalingrad
and of course now, since we are here in Transylvania Hungary, I mean
Romania.” She stumbled, grinning slyly, almost impishly at her
intentional slip of the tongue before continuing.  ”He was at Perekop
Isthmus, then Sevastopol.  As you know their OKW intended to hold
Sevastopol as a fortress, as our Glorious Red Army had done during the
first battle for the Crimea in 1941/42.  The rapid movement of our Army
together with their inadequate preparation of the defenses of Sevastopol
made this impossible, and on 9 May, not even one month after the start of
the battle, Sevastopol fell back into our hands.  Like with Stalingrad his
SS brigade covered the rearguard of the German retreat.

   He was twice promoted for bravery under fire and was awarded Iron
Crosses, second and first class, Eastern Front Medal with a Close Combat
Bar, Army Parachutist Badge and a Gold Anti-Partisan Badge, which our
beloved General Beria will, no doubt have him have him shot for.  The
Romanian Order of the Star (Officer Class) and a First Class Sniper’s
badge and Tank Destruction Badge according to his soldbuch, he has numerous
wound badges and awards, and has the right to wear both the Crimea Shield
and Afrika Cuff title.” She continued reading from a slim file and
what looked like his confiscated pay-book or soldbuch.  “They ran out
of ammunition and he was captured last month.  Now he is target practice
for our Glorious Proletariat Army as it sweeps victoriously towards Berlin.
The last message his Unit sent, they would fight to the last bullet, which
they did, by the way!  Our intelligence leads us to believe the OKW
considers him, and his entire Unit, killed in action, he will not be
missed, just another of their 97000 casualties of the campaign.”

   “Good!  Bring him to me, let me see!” the woman ordered.

   The pretty lieutenant grabbed his collar and half dragged him towards
the desk, Otto did not struggle, knowing that this was the end.  They had
systematically killed every man in his unit, either in battle, or as
prisoners, by denying food, and medicine, or by torture and needless
executions.  He was a member of the SS, there were no delusions, and he
understood and expected nothing less.  It had been a barbaric war, where
atrocities were commonplace on every side.  History would be re-written by
the victors; only losers would be expected to pay the heavy price for the
barbarism and inhumanity that everyone had committed.  Any war tribunal
would be a futile attempt to mask man’s inhumanity to man by pointing
the finger at the defeated side.  Otto could not make out the woman’s
features in the shadowy confines of the darkened vehicle, as what little
light there was came from directly behind her.

   “You have done well my precious, he is indeed handsome.” She
declared, kissing the blonde with passion on the mouth.







   The blonde arched her back, exhibiting sensual pleasure and returning
her superior officer’s kiss with visible passion, before turning
towards Otto and wrinkling her nose while rubbing her hands and arms
vigorously, “He stinks!  He’s filthy and I think he has lice or
fleas.  Ugh!” She scratched at her arms and wrists, grimacing.

   The mysterious woman nodded, “Probably both.” She agreed. 
“Now let’s get back to Head Quarters.” She ordered. 
“It will dawn in a few hours.”

   The lieutenant slid past her superior and sat behind the wheel.  The
Detroit Diesel’s roar coincided with the resuming stutter of gunfire
from the stockade, and they moved off, the tracks making the quintessential
squeaks and squeals common only to halftracks irrespective of pedigree, as
the vehicle plowed its way over the rough track.

   Otto waited, aware he was being scrutinized.  He muttered in Russian,
“Under the Geneva Convention I am permitted only to disclose my name,
rank and serial number.  I am also to be afforded reasonable medical care
and my superiors informed of my capture.”

   “What Geneva Convention?” the Colonel asked.” Have you
abided by it?”

   “It is the rules of war, and yes, I have abided by it!” he
answered.

   “Shut up, Major, for you the war is over, you should sleep; I have
big plans for you when we reach my headquarters.” She chuckled.

   Otto had not slept for more than a few minutes at any time since his
capture, now within the confines of the armored car his senses were dulled
and he found himself nodding off, he tried to keep awake, the indistinct
Colonel seemed to be ignoring him, he wasn’t quiet certain because it
was dark, and the carpet was soft and warm, he succumbed finally.

   He awoke when the vehicle stopped.  The motor was switched off.

   “Come Major, we have arrived,” the Colonel said.

   They climbed out, one after the other, the Colonel leading the way.  The
halftrack was parked alongside a few American jeeps, a captured kubelwagen
and a T34 Russian tank in the courtyard of what looked like a castle.  The
walls were stone, the red flag of the Soviet Union flapped alongside the
blue, yellow and red, of the new Soviet-Rumania strategically fluttering
from every rampart.  Otto, whose brigade had fought alongside numerous
Romanian brigades of General Antonescu, including the Rosiori and Calarasi
regiments and the infamous Romanian Waffen SS brigade, during the retreat.
He grinned ruefully at the bright new Soviet-Romanian flags.  He was led
through a pair of stout wooden doors into the castle.  Both women returned
hasty salutes the sleepy guards gave them.









   It was not a military head quarters.  It was a head quarters for
debauchery, although it was close to 4:00AM partially drunk uniformed and
unclothed officers sat or stood smoking cigars and drinking small glasses
of Vodka at a long wooden table, where they seemed to be studying a
mountain of food, while scantily dressed male and female soldiers stepped
in between filling drinks or bearing food or sat being fondled or
performing fellatio.  Couples copulated in pairs and threes in front of
their peers unabashed.  This was indeed a strange and decadent Soviet
military head quarters.  There was no static buzz of radio signals
squelches and beeps bounced of the stone walls.  The officers and ranks
that were capable, stumbled to attention when their Colonel entered;
briefly she read dispatches that various semi-sober aides thrust at her
while she walked past.

   The slim Colonel nodded briefly, behaving haughtily as a queen to those
present, as she had yet to show him her face, it was enigmatic.  She
pointed to Otto.  “See he is cleaned up, Lieutenant Llendl says he
has lice and fleas, have him deloused and pest-free, also see that my car
is also cleansed.” She said to no one in particular.

   Otto was led away by two partially dressed female non commissioned
officers, their large unfettered breasts jutting proudly through their
unbuttoned uniform shirts.  He was sprayed and scrubbed, then led naked to
a small room.  His cuts and bruises were attended to, his face shaved as
well as under arms.  The women had a great deal of fun and were giggling
while completely shaving his pubic region and the crack of his buttocks. 
His matted platinum hair was clipped to an acceptable military brush cut.
He was then placed in a room that had one steel barred window, set at least
three meters above the floor.  The room itself was only big enough to hold
a small military-like cot.  He would have wolfed down the warm meal that
had been put before him, but was afraid it would be drugged or poisoned and
he finally fell asleep naked on the covers.

   The same two women came for him just after dark the following evening.
The door was flung open and they beckoned him to follow them.  This time
they were sober, prim and proper, fully dressed and official.  A brown
insignia-less Soviet style uniform had been left for him while he slept;
which he put on.  There was new cotton underwear and socks and new stiff
leather boots for his feet.  “The Colonel will see you now, Major. 
Follow us please!” A redhead corporal with curly hair ordered him.

   Otto followed the women as they walked briskly along one passage after
another, taking stairs up and up higher into the Castle.  Finally they
stopped at a pair iron bound oak doors, they rapped loudly on the heavy
oaken panels.  The door seemed to open on its own violation.  The two women
turned and strode off down the passage leaving Otto to enter alone.  The
door closed behind him.  The room he stood in was huge with smooth high
walls and a vaulted ceiling; this must be the colonel’s private suit
he thought.  There were small arched glazed windows and the room was
illuminated by moonlight and dozens of candles fastened to the walls Gothic
style.  The floor was made of enormous smooth slate tiles.  A vast table
stood in the center of the room, the table was set for a banquet, and
various cuts of meat and fruit and cheeses were set upon the table, dozens
of bottles of wine and vodka stood ready to be opened.  Lieutenant Llendl
stepped out from the shadows.  She was not in uniform.  In place of the
drab brown and blue uniform, she was wearing a long red satin gown.  Her
breasts weren’t large but were exquisitely shaped; the nipples
outlined themselves beneath the shiny satin, below her pert breasts the
gown was gathered in at the midriff, pinching in her waist with matching
red kid leather criss-crossed stays across her flat belly.  Her shoulders
were bare, and her golden hair had been brushed out of its military bun,
marcelled, French style, and hung down below her bare shoulders.  She wore
red high heels, matching her gown.  She was breathtakingly beautiful in the
candlelight.

   “Welcome Otto, Anna will be with us presently, feel free to enjoy
her hospitality, help yourself to some food and wine, or vodka perhaps,
anything you like, anything!  It is all yours for the taking, everything;
rest assured it is neither drugged nor poisoned.” She spread her arm
out towards the loaded table.

   “Later perhaps,” he said as she stepped closer to him.

   “Do you like music?  We have a gramophone.” She added
pointing to a new looking American HMV set perched on a small table close
to the main table.

   Otto glanced briefly through the pile of recordings alongside the
gramophone; he chose a Strauss Waltz, set it on the turntable, winding the
key until it would go no further, and lowered the needle onto the record.
The large room was filled with Strauss’s Blue Danube.

   Elle continued, pointing to another pile of recordings partially hidden
beneath the table under the gramophone.  “We have some American music
as well as German, in that pile there.” She said.

   Otto thumbed through the second pile of 78 RPM recordings, finding one
by Glen Miller, and several of Wagner.  He chuckled.  “Glen Miller,
perhaps, but I’ve had enough of Horst Wessel or Wagner and his damned
Valkyries.” He said while placing the American record next to the
gramophone.



   She stood so close he could feel her warmth, and smell her subtle scent.
Erotic, the scent was slightly feral and musky; it had been months since he
had been so close to a woman, his body began to betray his interest.

   “I know this is very forward of me, but, will you dance with me,
Major?” Elle asked.

   “It would be an honor Lieutenant.” He said, taking her in
his arms.

   They began to waltz, to Otto, Elle seemed as light as a feather, she
followed his every nuance, and step.  They danced like as if they had been
dance partners for many years.  They were joined together at the groin, in
spite of himself, he felt himself hardening.  Elle gave him a dazzling
smile and pressed her hips forward, grinding her pelvis against his
erection as they stepped in time with the sensual waltz.  The record ended,
and Otto bowed to Elle in a cavalier like fashion, in a futile attempt to
hide his erection.  Elle in turn, curtsied.

   The Colonel must have entered the room while Otto and Elle were dancing.
When the couple separated after the waltz, she clapped her hands,
applauding them.  “You dance very well, Major, I like that in a
man.” She said.

   Like Elle she too was out of uniform.  Otto saw her fully for the first
time.  There was no other way to describe her, she was stunningly
beautiful. She appeared to be somewhere in her thirties with hair the
colour of a raven’s wing, long and straight, swept back, almost like
a peasant girl’s.  Her flawless skin was alabaster; with a face that
was heart-shaped, complimented with classically formed Slavic cheekbones.
Her nose was perfectly proportioned and slightly hooked, giving her almost
a predatory air.  Her wide lips were a sensual bow of delicate cosmetic
ruby red; her teeth were pearly white, perfectly spaced and even.  Her chin
was rounded just enough to appear firm rather than stubborn.  The sheer
silk black dress she wore was strapless and seamless; theatrically it
exposed her milky shoulders and advertised her cleavage.  The bodice clung
as if it had been sprayed on, and not slipped into.  Subtly, the entire
ensemble hinted that she wore no underwear.  The garment ended below the
knee but, through daring slits in the full skirt it could be discerned that
her thighs were sinuous and supple.  Her muscled calves were bare, and her
small feet thrust into black patent leather stiletto heels.  It was her
eyes that chilled him, they were large and as perfectly shaped as all her
attributes and features, but their hue was a reddish hazel, nothing young
and vibrant about them, they were as old as time itself and they stared at
him, cold and unblinking.

   “Elle, make sure we are not disturbed.” She ordered.

   Elle nodded, walked to the doors and lowered a hinged beam into place
across the doors to the chamber.  “This room is soundproof, and it
would take an anti-tank gun to get through the door.” She added. 
“You will not be disturbed Anna.” She said.

   Anna sat at the head of the table.  “Sit Major.  Let us discuss
your future.” She ordered, pointing to a chair adjacent to hers. 
Otto sat.

   Anna put manila binder down on the table in front of her.  She opened
it. “According to our Glorious Soviet Central Committee, and Allied
governments, all members of the SS will be charged with belonging to an
illegal political organization.  In addition, you have, along with your
illegal political organization committed atrocious war crimes against
Soviet Russian citizens and citizens of countries under her
protection.” She continued to read.  “Any one of these charges,
if proven, carries the death penalty.  It is a good thing that you are dead
already, eh?” She looked at him and sneered when she finished
reading.

   “What can I say, Colonel?” Otto asked.  “You hold all
the cards.”

   “True, Otto, true, lucky for you I have a need for you.  You may
call me Anna, I will call you Otto.” She said.

   She beckoned Elle closer.  “You liked dancing with her, eh?”
She asked of him.

   Otto nodded.  “Yes of course I did, she is a wonderful
dancer.”

   Anna nodded almost absently.  “Yes I noticed.” She smiled
bleakly.  “She brings passion out in you, eh?  I saw.”

   Abruptly her hand flew to Elle’s breast; she grasped and ripped
the satin bodice and stays, tearing it from Elle’s body.  Elle stood
unblinking, her pert little breasts standing proud.  Anna rose from her
chair, and ripped the gown from Elle’s body, until she stood naked,
in her high heels that were hidden in a pool of torn satin.

   Except for the hair on her head, Elle was hairless, her pubic mound was
plump, the vaginal lips puffy and slightly open and glisteningly moist.

   Once again Otto’s body betrayed him, he could feel the blood
pulsing to his penis, giving him an enormous erection, he squirmed in his
chair, and he averted his eyes, trying not to look at the gorgeous naked
girl beside him.

   “Do you want to fuck her?” Anna asked.  “Come on now
be honest, she excites you, no?” She taunted.

   “Come here precious.” She said softly, patting the table.

   Elle hopped up and sat on the table between Anna and Otto.

   “Show him your cunt, open it!” She ordered.

   Obligingly Elle moved her knees wide apart, put her hand between her
legs; she splayed her vaginal lips wide between her thumbs and forefingers.
Her green eyes remained unblinking as she stared at him without expression,
willing him with her mind to dip his finger into her swollen sex.

   Anna caressed the inside of Elle’s thigh, her fingernails dragging
across the skin.  Suddenly she slipped her fore and ring finger into
Elle’s vagina, her thumb mashed up against her rubbery clitoris and
she began to pump almost mechanically.  “She likes to be fucked,
don’t you?” she asked.  “You love your cunt filled? 
Don’t you?” Both Elle’s hands flew to Anna’s wrist,
holding her fingers trapped inside the wet velvety walls of her vagina.

   “Now my beauty, beg him to fuck you.” She hissed

   Elle groaned, her body almost twitching in time with Anna’s hand.
“Please Otto, please, please fuck me” She thrashed her head
about.  “Mistress, please…Please make him fuck meee.” She
pleadingly demanded, her voice rising to a whine, when Anna added another
two fingers and increased her tempo.

   Otto’s erection had tented his new uniform trousers; he could not
tear his eyes off Elle, as she writhed, arching her back and panting on the
table, her cunt making liquid squishes as Anna’s fingers delved into
her.

   “I see you have not eaten, Otto.” Anna remarked, withdrawing
her hand from the squirming woman, she held her dripping fingers to his
face “Would you not like to taste anything?  Taste!” she
demanded, holding her wet fingers to his mouth.  “I promise it is not
poisoned.”

   Tentatively Otto licked at Anna’s fingers, he could not control
himself, it was almost hypnotic.  He tasted Elle’s luxuriant nectar
on Anna’s fingers.  His erection threatened to burst through his
buttoned flies.  Anna’s left hand snaked between his legs and
caressed his erection through his pants, she smiled at Elle. 
“Patience, I will let you two fuck, patience my darling.” She
said while unbuttoning and pulling down his trousers and underwear.

   Otto stumbled from the chair, his new trousers at his ankles, only the
stiff new boots preventing him from getting them off.  His erection huge,
his engorged penis was impressively thick well over eight inches in length,
the purple glans of the head peeped through the rosetted foreskin, he
clambered onto the table nudging Elle further down, and spreading her
already widespread thighs further apart.  He lowered himself onto his
elbows on top of her, his penis lining itself up with her gaping vagina. 
He pressed into her forcefully, driving his full length into her.  She
coiled around his cock like a spring, so tight and so hot, shocked at her
voracity he could scarcely move inside her.  For someone small she was
incredibly strong.  She arched beneath him, her pelvis pumping up against
him, wanton in her desire for gratification, they moved like they had when
they danced, in perfect time, this time horizontally and panting and
straining.  Otto could feel the electrical tickle in his swollen balls and
belly he knew that his orgasm was so close he could no longer be
controlled; valiantly he fought against the impending rush of sperm,
slowing his thrusts, only to have Elle speed up her thrusting.  A shrill
cry filled the air, Elle, shuddered against him her body at once rigid, her
nails clawing at his back, drawing blood through long deep scratches,
pushing Otto over the edge, his cock began to pulse, squirting copious
amounts of lava hot cum into Elle’s receptive cunt.  As the heat
subsided, they lay panting, Otto still on top of her, his penis buried
inside, impaling her.

   Anna leaned on the table, her eyes glazed with lust, she bit into
Elle’s neck, blood sprayed as her long sharp teeth plunged into her
artery, she sucked hungrily, and noisily.  Elle watched unblinking as the
seemingly deranged woman drank her blood, she had coiled her legs around
Otto’s and her fingernails once again dug into his back painfully,
trapping him while Anna sucked noisily from her neck.  She lifted her face
from Elle’s neck, her mouth and chin bloody, her eyes wild.  Before
Otto could move her long sharp teeth bit into his neck.  Her fangs slicing
into his artery, which began to spray through the twin wounds into her open
mouth, He was paralyzed.  He sensed Elle smiling beneath him as his
life’s blood was being sucked from his arteries, he was growing
faint. Abruptly Anna stopped.

   Otto felt weak and tired, far too weak to move.  He was still entangled
in Elle’s legs.  Anna sat licking her face and hands cleansing the
blood from her lips and face.

   Elle whispered to him.” It’s all right.” She
whispered, “She only takes enough, she knows exactly how much a body
can spare.” Her voice was soothing her hands were cold but calming as
she caressed him.  “Thank you for a beautiful orgasm, no man has ever
pleased me as much!” she claimed shyly.

   Anna quirked.  ”Really?  Elle?  That good, eh?”

   Elle, answered, “Oh yes my Mistress.  “ She nodded
blissfully beneath him.

   Anna tugged at Otto’s shoulders, pulling him, not so gently, off
Elle, who slipped away from beneath him and rolled off of the table.  Otto
lay face down, his body not listening to his brain’s commands; gently
both women rolled him onto his back.  Anna reached down her hand encircled
his flaccid cock.  Gently she caressed his soft digit; her hand was soft
and gentle.  She lowered her face, slipping him into her mouth, she sucked.
Amazingly he began to thicken and lengthen in her mouth, his cock expanded,
his body might be weakened almost paralyzed but his cock certainly
wasn’t.  Soon he was rock hard and fully extended, a proud eight
inches, slightly curved upwards, with his foreskin pulled fully back,
exposing his purple head, once again precum began to form at the red tip,
making the big purplish head all shiny.

   “ Mistress may I….” Elle began, she was salivating.

   “No!” Anna snarled, turning towards Elle her fangs exposed,
her fingers crooked like an eagle’s talons, “I will make this
cock for my needs, you will still have your chance, when I feel like
sharing.  “ She panted, her long pointed fangs still bared.  “I
must transform him, I must do it now.” she muttered.

   She clasped her fingers around his stiff cock, pumping gently keeping
his erection, she again lowered her face.  Her head moved sideways, her
lips closed around the shaft, leaving the proud head, poking out the corner
of her lips.  She slid her mouth down further.  Otto felt excruciating pain
as she bit, her sharp teeth slicing into his rigid shaft, then blackness.

   He did not know how long he had passed out, he groaned, it was pitch
dark he was in a bed, both Elle and Anna were asleep in each other’s
arms next to him.  There was no pain, he felt his penis, and although
flaccid it was still there, all of it, in one piece, and then felt his neck
where his blood had been sucked, feeling no wound or scar, just unblemished
skin.  He was puzzled, everything was still there.  Elle awoke from her
slumber beside him and smiled sleepily her green eyes were for once, dull,
she lay naked, almost joined to Anna.  Her neck too, where she had been
sucked showed no evidence of the violent frenzy Anna had initiated.

   “It is done now; you will become one of us.” She said.

   “What do you mean?” He asked.

   “Patience!  You will find out, Anna, will reveal all.” She
replied.  “Come, we must sleep, when she wishes to mate, you will
enjoy her, trust me.” She nodded, taking his hand in hers and closing
her eyes.  His eyes accustomed themselves to the gloom, the room was
circular, and probably in the turret of the castle.  No light filtered
through the arched windows, a huge bed on which he lay with the two
sleeping women dominated the room, with black satin sheets.  He shut his
eyes and slept.



   When he awoke he had no idea of the time, the room was still in
darkness. Elle and Anna lay giggling and kissing each other noisily.  They
stopped, disengaging, as he shook his head.  Elle got to her knees and
crawled over to him as Anna lay on her back watching him with those weird
reddish eyes.

   Otto watched her, ignoring Elle.  Anna lay back on her bed her face
turned towards him, watching him; idly she stroked herself, one hand
playing with her nipples, the other rubbing between her legs.  Elle fell to
her knees, her lips slid over Otto’s cock, her tongue rasped at his
head, he felt himself growing, thickening, lengthening.  Elle continued to
suck strongly, her mouth was as hot as a furnace, Otto’s cock
swelled, his cock lengthened and lengthened, until it stood proud.  As Elle
sucked, her tongue lashed back and forth licking spurts of clear liquid
that seemed to dribble unabated from the tip, she swallowed, groaning with
pleasure.

   Otto looked down at his now rampant cock Elle’s lips could not
reach the base, she lifted her mouth away, clear liquid flowed from the
tip, dribbling.

   “He is ready my Mistress, turn over.” She coaxed.

   Anna had been watching Otto’s cock as Elle had sucked it, she
turned over and climbed onto her knees, she bent down on all fours like a
dog, exposing the puffy wet lips of her cunt, to him.  Her cunt was within
a mass of dank curls; her inner labia drooped out past her swollen outer
ones, a small digit the size of his thumb stood proud at the top of the
juncture.  He smelled something, he sniffed again, and suddenly he had no
control of his body.  He snarled, shoving Elle to one side, his hips began
thrusting wildly, growling slobbering, he sniffed at her exposed cunt; he
licked tasting the intoxicating liquid she was excreting copiously.

   He growled again his hips thrusting wildly, his cock first probing her
ass, she shifted, lowering her shoulders and he continued thrusting his
hips violently, smacking against her anus, Elle’s deft hands guided
him and he finally found the gaping entrance to her cunt.  He rammed
unflinching into her waiting cunt, he was deep inside her still thrusting
uncaringly, growling and slobbering like a beast, his cock felt longer a
lot longer, halfway along the shaft, where Anna had bitten, a ball the size
of his fist was developing, it was hard and hot.  Although the entrance was
large and sloppy she was as tight as a ten year old virgin.  The knot
slapped up against the entrance to her tight vaginal walls time upon time,
She thrust back at him matching him stroke for stroke, he began to squirt
cum, his cock began pumping furiously, her cunt was so tight, the cum he
produced, just spewing out from the tip as he continued to fuck faster and
faster, cum squirting out around her labia as his cock rammed into her.  He
had never experienced such tightness.  Anna rolled her hips, her head
thrashing side to side, whining like a bitch in heat, slowly he felt her
cervix softening, instinctively he slowed his stroke pressing the knot into
her waiting cunt, she cried out, he growled like a crazy man, and began
pumping cum in a frenzy as the walls of her cunt massaged and milked him.
They were knotted like rutting dogs.  The orgasm he was experiencing was
like nothing before, every pulse of semen heightened the pleasure he was
experiencing.  His balls continued to produce cum, filling her, she whined,
her body shuddering in ecstasy as her orgasm began.  She sprawled onto the
bed pulling him down on top of her still joined.  He lay on top of her. 
Her cervix continued gripping his knotted cock until he had no more cum. 
It was almost a relief to feel the end of the orgasm.  Still she kept them
joined, the knot very slowly reducing itself.  Anna lay stoic beneath him
taking the weight of his body as he sprawled untidily.

   Elle ignored him, and lay beside Anna kissing her mouth.  Anna was
oblivious to anything but the penis she held in her cunt.  Her insides
contained liters of Otto’s semen.  She ignored Elle, whose tongue
dragged across her jaw, and along her shoulders and neck.  Otto felt the
knot finally begin to subside and Anna’s grip on his cock lessen,
they must have been knotted for half an hour at least before he was able to
withdrew from her cloying bloated cunt with a soggy plop.  Instantly, her
distended cunt and thighs were awash as Otto’s cum gushed out from
the stretched hole.  Finally the trickle stopped.  It continued to ooze,
every time she moved, down her thighs and onto the black satin sheets. 
Elle had sprung across as soon as the couple had unknotted, and was lapping
at Anna’s cunt swallowing whatever flowed from her.