A hint of a smile played at the corner of the Commissar’s lips. She looked up at the brooding eagle and then back down at her sergeant.
“Do you deny the accusations of disorderly conduct levelled against you?”
The words hung in the air, so simple and yet so significant. The Commissar seemed to breathe them in, taste them, savour them.
“I have…. overlooked…. so many infractions.”
“Overlooked?” The crop pushed her head back, gently but insistently exposing her throat. She gulped against it and pushed out a single word.
And gazing up at her commanding officer, the Sergeant finally found her words.
She spoke of long nights after hard battles, blood singing at being simply alive when so many had died, contraband whiskey around an open fire. Head pounding the next morning, wear whatever uniform you want so long as your gun is ready for battle at noon. Hurrying through drill so we can all catch some shut eye before the bombardments start again, the endless sound drilling into your skull and hammering at your brain. Turning a blind eye to the antics after dark – they need to let off steam. I need to let off steam. Card games with dubious prizes, rations traded for pungent cigars. Shared showers, shared bunks. Tempers blazing in the canteen, upturned tables and precious rations spilt. Company vehicles “borrowed” just for the joy of driving, driving and whooping with the wind in your hair, still alive. Feuds with other units just for the fun of winding them up. Them and us. Soldiers with names not numbers, soldiers who are your friends. We’re still alive. Alive because of each other. Alive because we are family….
Words tumbled out of the Sergeant until she was spent, panting with the rush of her memories and the relief of their revelation. Throughout it all the eagle glared down, candlelight flickering menacingly along its feathers of gold. The cold face above her revealed little reaction to her tales of debauchery. Only the blue eyes flickered, harsh judgement in her narrowing gaze. When the flow finally stopped, the papers on the floor were once again only paper, their stories told. Silence stretched out, blanketing the rumbling thunder above with the hush of a cathedral. Finally, the Commissar broke the stillness.
“Your crimes against the Emperor are grave indeed”.
The Sergeant deflated and lowered her eyes, the relief of confession draining out of her like a pulled plug, replaced with the realisation of what she had confessed and to whom.
“But you will be redeemed, to serve the Emperor once more.”
Slowly, she moved her eyes to meet the intimidating figure. Heart pounding, she could feel the blood churning under her skin where the crop still touched her throat, holding her at attention.
“A higher standard of behaviour is required. A standard fit for this army. A standard fit for service to our holy Emperor.” The crop traced gently down her neck, winding a path across her shoulder as the Commissar began to step around her. “You will learn to control your baser instincts so that you can better serve the Emperor. You are but an instrument for his will, and I shall wield you as such.” Circling the chair, she paused again in front of her Sergeant, resting the crop lightly on her chest. “Your heart must belong to the Emperor.” She tapped it firmly. “You must give yourself completely, without reservation, without question. You must release all else. You will swear to the eagle, and you will swear to me”. The crop traced lazily back up her throat, tingling her skin. “You will follow my every command. From this moment onwards, your conduct will be Nothing. But. Orderly.” Each word was punctuated with a sharp tap of the crop on her cheek, drawing a gasping breath from her lips. “You will give yourself in unquestioning loyalty to your Emperor and to your Commissar. You will learn to resist temptation and… distraction” Once again a faint cruel smile played at the corner of her red lips, and she drew the crop softly across the lips of her wide-eyed sergeant. “You will stay focused on your orders. Obedience without question. Loyalty without end.” Once more she placed her crop under her sergeant’s throat, tilting her head back but never breaking her gaze. Passion shone in her blue eyes. “You will learn the true pleasure that comes from submission.” For the first time she smiled broadly, merciless delight glittering in her eyes. “Go now and force the enemy back from the Eastern trench. Kill every rebel you find. Return to me alive. Your obedience training will begin tonight. Do you understand?”
The Sergeant gazed up at her commanding officer towering above her, hair flaming crimson with candlelight, eagle soaring gold in the blood sky behind her. A wave of resolve washed over her. She would learn. She would surrender. She would obey.
The end! Or is it the beginning? See the Sergeant begin her obedience training in this month's lingerie and heresy photo sets on my Patreon ;)
Praise the Emperor!
Dommissar Frankie xxx