'Werewolf MILFs of the KGB'

Nora flicked through the magazine.

'Thunder rolled and lightning flashed overhead. A maniacal cackle called out from castle Wewelsburg. Profound and foul magic was being performed here, he could smell it. It lingered in the air. It stunk. Richard Johnson crept along the rafters, careful to not cause any sound that would tip off the cultists below. He watched them performing; they were in a circle, eleven of them equaly spaced between each other, with a man in robes in the center standing atop a symbol of a black sun on a gold disk. Around him lay occult tools, a dagger, a pentacle, a censer billowing smoke... and two sacrifices. Two girls, they couldn't be older than twenty, stark naked, bound and gagged and kneeling on the ground with their heads bowed, both with terrified expressions in their eyes. He reached for his holstered Colt M19, prepared to shoot, when he saw someone else among the rafters. He unsheathed his pistol, ready for anything. It took him a moment for his eyes to catch her; it was a woman he knew well. Sonya.

She put a finger to her lip for silence, and then pointed down at the cultists, motioning at the same time a finger across the neck, before lifting up eight fingers. Richard shook his head. He lifted eight fingers and then pointed at himself. He wasn't prepared to let her have all the glory. Even from across the room he could see her annoyed expression, her curled long hair tied back into a ponytail, even the buttons on her soviet uniform. He relented, and held up four fingers. It wasn't the time to squabble and if she wanted to take them on so be it. Besides, he knew her enough to know she was capable. What was important was the mission, and those two girls. She signaled that she was about to attack.

"Now!" she cried with her thick Ruski accent.

Sonya dropped down, a knife in one hand and a pistol in the other, and immediately lodged the knife in one of the cultists head to the hilt, spraying a thin mist of blood. Before the other cultists could react, shots rang out as she fired three times, missing twice but the third shot hit true, dropping one of them to the floor like a sack of wet sand. Richard dropped down as well, rolling as he hit the carpet with a flourish, firing at the closest cultist to him. The cultists fled wildly, but from behind the arches that circled the room heavy clad soldiers in black masks began to flood in, heavy machine guns in hand.

"Shit! Look out!" Richard ducked behind a pillar. He could hear the bullets strike the column like rain falling on a tin roof. Sonya danced around the circle with wild jumps and superhuman reflexes. She let our a growl as she pulled the trigger and heard not the firing of a bullet but the hollow click of the empty chamber. She stood in the centre of the arena in the lull of the machine gun fire, tossing her gun to the side. Suddenly, the chamber filled with the echo of a slow, unimpressed clap.

"Vell vell vell. If zis isn't Sonya and her dim American Dog." A man in a brown uniform stepped out, a red cape on his back. It was Hitler.

Richard grit his teeth. "Hitler you fucking scum, let those girls go and I will make your **** quick!"

"I am not Hitler," he said with a dismissive scoff, "I am Hitler 2, Hitler's clone. And I vill not be ze one dying today, Richard, or should I say, Dick!" Hitler 2 took his Mauser pistol out and pointed it at Sonya. "Zis is the end of the line for you, fraulein!"

Sonya took the bullet to the chest, sending her reeling back, wobbly but still standing. She growled as she gripped at her chest, writhing, as if some deep corrupt power was clawing out from within her. She arched back, arms spread as she howled a long mournful wail of a wolf. The Germans cringed back at the transformation, inching away from the beast. Muscles bulged unnaturally, ripping her clothes into shreds, and her curled chestnut hair elongated and fused with her body, covering her in a thick harpet of fur. She let out one more howl as she lunged at Hitler 2's direction. The soldiers began firing once more, but the bullets bounced off her hide as if it were made of steel. Her long claws curled around the top of Hitler 2's head, her other holding his shoulder, and with a mighty pull, ripped Hitler 2's head off his body like a carrot from the ground. His face froze with a terrifying look, and he shat his breeches.

"Ah nein! I have shit mein pantz!" was his last words on earth.

Sonya let the body hit the ground as she began to rip the soldiers to shreds, their thick metal armour proving less effective than tissue paper. Unfortunately for her, they brought in anti-tank launchers. She swatted a rocket out of the way, letting it fly off and explode against a far wall. It was no match for her for now, but it only takes one lucky hit for it all to be over. She ran on all fours towards the bound girls, grabbed them with her jaws, and flung them onto her back. Richard ran out of cover towards her, unloading his clip for covering fire. Sonya grabbed him by the scruff of his collar, and jumped out the nearest window, shattering glass; their descent was as if in slow motion, shards falling like snow, shouts distorted, distant. They were falling falling falling, and then SPLASH. The water was like concrete, and they dived deep, a wild hurricane of bubbles and motion. He could smell distinctly the scent of wet dog and blood. It proved too much for him and he passed out.

When Richard woke up, he expected to be tied up. What surprised him was that he was not in an SS dungeon, but inside a log cabin. His eyes darted around the room. It was mostly barren, except for two heavy oak tables and some medical instruments on top. The windows were barred up and the fireplace was empty. He strained his ears. There was someone outside talking, but he couldn't make out any words spoken, or by whom, or even the accent. A sudden wave of wooziness hit him; it was as if a twenty tonne block of bad luck fell from a third story window and crushed his head like an accordion. He pulled against his binding, but it was no use; his arms and legs were tied fast against the wooden chair he was sitting on. He rocked himself back and forth, but all it managed to do was scrape against the floorboards and make noise. The figure outside suddenly stopped talking. He heard footstepts. He heard the door creak open.

It was Sonya.

"Ah! You're awake my handsome American friend." It was somewhat reassuring to hear the familliar heavy Ruski accent; more reassuring if he weren't tied up. But he was missing the elephant in the room. His eyes slowly panned down her body. She was naked. She did not even try to hide the fact. He could see everything; her pleasant curves, her smooth hips, her hairy snatch, her bouncing busoms. "Like what you see?" She winked and then took a swig from a bottle of vodka. She stretched her arm out to offer, but then retracted it with a shrug after all she met in response was his cold glare.

"What the hell happened? Where am I?"

"You were out for two days. Don't worry, we are safe now. The Germans haven't gone into Russia yet."

Richard blinked in surprise. "What?! We're in Russia? How? In two days? That's not possible!"

She chuckled and bridged the space between each other, bringing her face so close to his that he could smell the **** on her breath. "When you're as gifted as I am, nothing is impossible."

"What the hell are you?!"

"Shh shh," she placed a finger on his lip, "is that a way to speak to a woman?"

He couldn't stop staring deep into her emerald green eyes.

"I heard that American men are macho; maybe you can show me how manly you are? Hm?" She leaned up to his ear and whispered softly. "I'll show you my wild side if you show me yours."

He gulped. Her breath was so unbearably warm against his skin, raising goosepimples on the back of his neck. Her scent suddenly hit him. It was so... heady. Intoxicating. Musky... sexy.

"Stop," he whimpered, trying to crane his head away from her, "I'm a married man."

"I too am married, I even have children... but that's not stopping me now, is it?" Her hands gripped his shirt, tearing it in two, revealing his chiseled chest. She breathed heavily, her face red; was it red because she was drinking, or because she was desperately horny? That was a question that quickly fluttered away from his head. "I do not regret my gift, but god is being in heat a pain."

He couldn't help himself from letting out a groan as she nibbled on his neck. Sonya grinded her body against him, half sitting on his lap, her legs split apart, dripping on the slowly raising tent in his trousers. Her hips fit perfectly on top of him, as if they were made to be there, to sit there. A smirk grew on her face, her eyes suddenly wide and wolf like. "My my, aren't we excited?" Her voice was different. Growlier, but not deeper. She placed her lips on his and kissed him, hard. It was difficult to part, but they did; not because he wanted to, but because she moved away. He was frozen in place as she withdrew, a dumb innocent look on his face. He was hesitant before, but now... he was married, yes, but we can all indulge if no-one finds out about it, can't we? His thought was interrupted as Sonya growled much more menacingly than before. She was transforming again, up close, just a foot before him. Fur sprouted from her skin, silky and luxurious just like her hair. Her face lost its human quality, and began to elongate into a snout, filled with sharp teeth and a lulling tongue. The ears sprouted on top and twitched, as if getting used to its newfound existance. Her eyes stared. They were the same bright emerald as when she was human and they stared deep into him. A cold shiver ran up his spine. She drew in close, and freed one of his hands from their bindings, clutching it and guiding it to her. She guided his hand to her furry collarbone, and dragged it up, his fingers running through her soft hairs to her jaw; she couldn't help tilting her head in pleasure as his fingers dug deep. Richard scritched under her chin as if bewitched, not believing what was happening.

"Ah yeah," she bayed roughly, "right there, mmm."

Her body relaxed, her hips gently humping his lap. The other hand stretched out to the side, as if it were releasing pent up tension, and then reached to his imprisoned cock, a small spot of pre-cum staining through the fabric. The claws gripped his cock tightly through the pants, and she tugged on it roughly, causing it to twitch. A sudden sharp breath from both parties. Her body smothered him as his hand reached behind her ear. He could feel her monumental breasts crushing his ribs. Drool dripped onto his back as she panted and moaned. "Oooh," she let out quietly and softly, "mmm."'

Nora suddenly yelped as Roxxy blew a short puff of cold air at her face. She was so engrossed with the magazine she didn't even notice her sneaking up on her.

"Ah!"

"Having fun are we?"

Nora grimaced. "Don't scare me like that! I was just getting to a good part!"

"Geez, sorry." She walked away back to her studies, leaving Nora to continue her reading.

'It was twitching in the cold air, rigid as a girder, hard as a rock; it towered to the top of his stomach, pleasantly coloured and textured, oozing semi opaque precum. Sonya licked her chops, as if it were her first proper meal in months and the cock was a honey glazed ham with a side of roast potatoes. Her furry quim was lowering itself, preparing itself to get penetrated, when suddenly, from outside the building came the sounds of gunfire.

"What's going on?" Sonya growled in anger, her release interrupted. The gunfire stopped just as soon as it started, and there was a distinctive yapping sound of a wounded dog. One more low-calibre gunshot, and then, silence. Both Sonya and Richard sat there in silence for a moment before the door creaked open and a figure stepped in.

"You think you can get rid of me zat easily?!" Cried Zombie Hitler 2, backed by a cadre of guards.

Read next months thrilling continuation!'

"Oh come on!" yelled Nora, "that's bullshit! Fuck this garbage magazine!"

"Yeah, what a tease!" replied Roxxy.