"Fraulein...Fatale!"

The movie opened with a still camera, the sound of footsteps running from some off camera chase. A well dressed man enters the frame, turning and firing a German Luger Mk9 handgun toward an off screen menace. The camera focuses in on the man's gold ring briefly before it resumes the chase. He darts down alleyways and wet side streets, his nemesis always out of site. The theater shook as the sound of the handgun went off, a puff of white smoke floating from off screen as he clutched his chest and slowly, dramatically died. A shadow falls over his body as the distinctive click of high heels approaching turns into the ticks of a wall clock as one scene fades to the other.

Bridget's stomach started to rumble a bit as she got caught up in the movie. "Ah well. They put too much cum on the popcorn at this theater anyway." she thought, watching a Dame in front of her pop a few soggy kernels in her mouth and suck her fingers clean. She turned her attention back to the movie. Joe Bradford was playing Detective Mike McManus. He was a handsome, but definitely hardboiled actor known more for his impressive phallus than his acting chops, but this role was practically written for him.

"Whadda we got, Tony?" he said, lighting a cigarette that he retrieved from the inside of his tan trenchcoat. The camera panned to a body under a sheet, a hand sticking out with a missing finger; the hand from the man who had just gotten shot.

"Jeez, Mike. This one's got me stumped. Guy got plugged close range, single shot right through the heart. They left his wallet, left his watch, but took his finger. This just doesn't add up," the beat cop said. Detective McManus furrowed his brow, and scanned his surroundings. He saw the pistol on the ground, and picked it up with a pencil by the trigger guard to preserve prints. "Mike, you should see this." He turned to look as the beat cop pulled the sheet back just enough to see a faint bit of smoke rising from the bullet wound. He leaned in, the slow spiral of smoke floating toward his sniffing nose.

"Is that burning wire? This guy have an artificial heart? Christ..." he said. Bridget had to suspend her disbelief a little bit. Mechanical hearts were nothing new, but they wouldn't spark. The internal pistons that drove the blood through the body were pretty similar to a number of other diesel engine designs, though regular refueling at a doctor's office was required. McManus flipped open the dead man's wallet and pulled out his identification. "Ah, rats!" he said with a sigh, tossing the ID onto the sheet. It read "Lt Frank Reese, FBI."

The next scene was back at the police station. The commissioner and Det. McManus were walking around a desk, cigarette smoke wafting in the diffused light coming in from the blinds. A tall, buxom dark-haired dame entered the scene, her heels clicking. She wore a tight sweater and corset combo with a pinskirt that showed off her amazing figure and accented her long legs. She set a stack of file folders in front of them, and turned to walk away. Bridget appreciated the plot device. Having a pretty dame on screen and not being used indicated that the men were serious and hard at work. The square sitting next her started to stroke her breast from swell to nipple as the actress sauntered out of frame.

The next sequence of scenes was typical of a detective movie. Phone calls were made, files were checked, turbodiesel Diesel City Police Dept roadsters were driven, witnesses were interviewed as the music played; shaking their heads to indicate they didn't have any information. Once the investigation montage was over, it cut back to Detective McManus. He was now back in the precinct, aggressively fucking the handcuffed secretary in the ass. She was on her knees, ass up and face pressed to the ground, her pouty, full lips open in a moan of pleasure as McManus's impressive 9 inches disappeared into her pale, quivering body.

The door burst open, another detective entering. "Mike! We got somethin!' Spireside General says a garbage man found a severed finger in a nearby dumpster and called it in." He glanced over, nodding and grunting as he drove faster and harder into her until his massive load spurted inside her. Bridget sighed contently as the square's stroking of her breast became a rougher groping, pulling on and squeezing her nipple. Use scenes usually meant the next ten minutes or so were filler material that didn't really advance the plot in order to give time for those turned on to act on their desires, or cool down and be able to refocus on the next important scene. She had to admit his impressive size had caused a small tremor in her body as she felt herself get a little wet.

One of the airplane mechanics was worked up enough to sit beside the dame who was eating her cum-soaked popcorn. She smiled politely as his greasy, dirty hands roughly fondled her breasts. He lifted the armrest, and leaned back, his erection sticking up. Her head disappeared from view as he spread his arms across the back of the seats, enjoying her luscious lips engulfing him.

As expected, the movie plodded on, the doctor explaining that the finger probably had a ring on it judging from the bruising, and a series of scenes where they tracked down information on it. The man in front of her was grunting now, using his hands to drive her mouth further down his shaft. Bridget looked over at the square's crotch. He was definitely erect, and would probably want to use her soon.

The following scene opened with the clicking of high heels that traveled up long, 20 islet laced up leather thigh high boots, up between the pale legs and over the immaculately shaven pussy, up the tight stomach and eventually onto the large, bare breasts of Lana Lombard, the actress playing the Fraulein. Lana Lombard was the daughter of Carol Lombard and Clark Gable, and had inherited her mother's radiant beauty and platinum hair, which she wore in the stylish Stadti style under an SS style military hat for this role. She glanced over her shoulder as she brought a cigarette fitted in a long holder to her lips, seductively inhaling as the camera panned over her shoulder. A nude man sat strapped to a chair and gagged, his penis painfully trapped in a cockring that could be tightened with the turn of a screw and his testicles bright red and swollen with cum.

"If you vant relief, tell me vat you know." she said in a somewhat decent German accent, walking back over to him. He looked at her with sheer terror as she slowly straddled him. The camera zoomed in on her completely shaven sex as she slowly lowered herself onto his cock. Her pussy was so strong and tight you could actually see her walls contract and release as her pussy lips slid down his shaft. When she was halfway down, she slowly leaned over and held the tightening nut, giving it another quarter twist as his cock swelled with even more blood. He whipped his head back and forth in agony as she slowly fucked herself on him, her hand moving to squeeze and massage his dangerously overloaded testicles. "Maybe you vant me to use my bottom on you? Would that convince you to cooperate?" she said, stepping off of him.

He panicked, and shook his head no as sweat poured down his face. She bent over, her legs together and perfectly accented by her boots, the camera giving a close up shot of her incredibly tight, tiny asshole. He started hyperventilating as she slowly sat on it, the blood from his shaft being **** back down his cock as his head popped into her anal ring. She leaned back against his chest, driving herself down until he was all the way in. She slowly spread her legs, and started to squeeze his balls with one hand while her other moved back to the tightening screw.

"Are you ready to verk with me now?" she asked, her fingers touching the screw delicately. His eyes were clamped shut, and he started vigorously nodding. She leaned back, her arm bending and back arching to be able to reach the pin that held his gag in place. She pulled it and allowed him to work it out of his mouth with his tongue.

"Old Detroit! The lab is under the old Ford factory!" he said, gasping from pain. A wicked smile crossed her face. She held the screw menacingly, staring into his eyes as her ass worked up and down his length. "I'm tellin' ya, its the truth!" he yelled painfully.

"Danke." she said, pulling the pin from the cockring. It snapped open as she started to stand up, cum flooding her ass she did so. As she pulled herself completely off, she shielded her pussy to avoid "unpure contamination" from his erupting member, taking great gushes of white, thick cum all the way up to between her shapely shoulder blades. She walked away from him, his cock still spurting onto the concrete floor. The camera tracked her ass and thighs, now coated in cum, as she slowly walked to the door. She glanced back over her shoulder and smiled at him before knocking. An SS soldier opened it. She nodded as he walked in.

"Wait, no!" he said as the camera focused on her face while a single gunshot sounded off camera. The officer appeared again behind her as she lazily smoked her cigarette.

"Prepare ze' submarine. We travel to America tonight." she said. He clicked his heels and saluted, and rushed passed her as her slight wicked grin turned to a sinister smile. Bridget looked around, and was glad that it looked like most of the men were uncomfortable. The thought of a She-Wolf using them like that was terrifying, but a few perverts enjoyed that type of thing. Still, that wasn't something that was generally done in public as most men didn't want to look like a sissy.

Bridget debated ducking out before the intermission. This movie was a little more racy than she thought, and it'd be almost midnight before it ended. There were always guys in the crowd that waited till the end to use a girl. She had almost convinced herself to leave when she realized the square was staring at her. She looked down at his rock-hard erection as he stroked it. Apparently he was one of the weirdos.

She gave him a disapproving look as she shifted in her seat so she was on her hip, her ass pointed toward him. He desperately clawed at her pants, getting them down her legs, and shifted so his cock was lined up with her pussy. She whimpered slightly as he slid it in dry. "Easy...easy..." she said, reaching a hand between her legs and rubbing her clit to get her juices flowing. He was already grunting after only a minute. She eyed him quizzically when he stopped, and rolled her eyes when he collapsed back into his seat, his cock wet with sex and dribbling semen.

She left her pants down around her ankles so she'd dry off faster, and turned her attention back to the movie as he awkwardly stuffed his shrinking member back into his trousers. "Squares." she thought to herself with a chuckle. He'd end up with a decent job that would attract a pretty dame he'd spend most of the time watching get hammered by his superiors, and find out she'd been free using with real men on the side.

After a sequence of scenes where the She Wolf arrived in America, established her identity, and Detective McManus met with an FBI informant to get closer to solving the case, the intermission screen appeared along with the familiar concession stand jingle. She quickly pulled her pants up, and ducked out to the lobby, pretending to ignore the "Hey, toots... hey!" calls that came from some men in the back. Her stomach rumbled again, and she had to decide to stick it out or head home to get some rest.