Post by Dirk Riedel on Feb 18, 2012 23:27:41 GMT
It would be difficult for one to attempt to decipher, and then understand, what exactly was taking place in the woman's mind at the time as she was running across the narrow passageways of the old Arabian city amidst the pelting downpour, the force of her jackboots splashing water and mud around her as she forced her way through and sprinted towards Nowhere. She knew perfectly well that they had already been running late for at least half an hour, if not more, that the man possibly faced imminent military scolding for his crass absence of punctuality when, after having been freed from prison, he ought to have showed perfect conduct in compensation; this the woman understood, and an encompassing sort of anxiety grasped onto her heart as she ran before the man, almost enough to have her forget the burning ache that greatly inconvenienced her femininity. And so deeply focused on such thoughts she were, that the sudden flash of a melding light glow surprised her, that she twitched, and instantly came to a very brisk halt by the side of the road, momentarily shielding her eyes with her right arm. The familiar mechanical sound of the engine immediately attuned the woman to the source of the light and the sudden noise. She knew not at first whether to be grateful or concerned at the arrival of the military vehicle, unable to decide if it had been sent in search of them to lead the two officers to safety or to punishment. Her thought was instantly broken the moment she saw the man stepping forward in the road at the approaching vehicle, and she frowned with a glare at his foolishness, outstretching her arm to grasp at him and pull him back, before he had retreated himself. Her heart missed a beat, and she would have slapped him for being so careless - had the Kubelwagen not been drawn into a halt directly in front of them.
It was needless to say what shock gripped upon the Leutnant the moment she saw it was Kronberg. A rush of emotions came to effuse her with variously themed sensations, and more than anything - assimilation. During their prolonged time in the room, and by virtue of their shared intimacy which had introduced to the woman the novelty of carnal closeness as imposed by the man, she had been made to forget about the military forces, about the war, even of Kronberg; and to see the stocky man before her turned a small but echoing click inside her, as if something - whatever that was - suddenly slapped her back to the reality of their surroundings, out of their warm room and into the unpleasantry of military life but, most importantly, to what had been before she had curled her legs around his waist and warmly placed a small kiss upon his abdomen; before he had first gnawed upon her desperate form against the brick wall close to the caravansera, before she had in anguish danced by the sable leopard and in hatred, in need, imprisoned him with her glaucous gaze. She could not explain what had taken place inside that sandstone room - or why it had taken place - but now that she was looking at Kronberg's face it was harsh reminiscence that came to her with the biting force of the rain which assimilated her to the way things used to be; the Hauptfeldwebel's face which reminded her of the difficult time during the Hauptmann's imprisonment, her visit to their quarters, her argument with Siegner, and then, the characteristic scene of a bleeding Kronberg in silent shock staring back in speechless form at the incensed pilot. And beyond this, the image of his clean and shaven face, ever as arrogant and selfish, looking at her in derision and self-importance.
All these did truly click familiar inside her visceral chaos of mind, and it was Kronberg's face which sent her to that reality of things past, of how it usually were, how it had been, and how strange to what now was; that she were the Leutnant, dressed in those very same military clothes, in short hair, to execute commands and to take the leather belt in her hand and direct it to his face in punishment, simply because of the anguish he had brought to her. It was only a second, the assimilation took place only within that very second of looking at Kronberg, but it was there in a moment's heartbeat, raw and ready, and eager. Distracting her away from such disturbing realisation was the Hauptfeldwebel's voice as he in trembling form announced that the camps had been flooded! Friederike knew not how much more shock she could withstand within the span of a single day - beginning from the Hauptmann's sudden appearance at the caravansera, to their shared intimacy, back to assimilation, and now to this horrifying item of news - that for a moment the world adopted a dreamy texture to its surroundings, curious and bleak, and slightly oppressing. Her heartbeat had without warning risen on its own volition to pulsate violently against her ribcage, and a permanent frown had taken upon her features the appearance of someone vastly disturbed but at the same time prepossessed and anguished with the force of knowledge enforced upon them. For a moment she turned her head and looked at the man. She had many questions to briskly attack Kronberg with, but fortunately the Hauptmann had asked the most important question first, and after the Hauptfeldwebel reassured them both that there were no casualties, only slightly did this pacify her. The news of the flooding was as startling as it was disconcerting, and it would have taken a fool not to notice her widened eyes and dilated irises, the angular facial features standing with muscles stiff and tautened, and lips pursed, the jaw hardened and her fingers curling into her palm in a tight fist as a small outlet for her distress. The downpour pelted heavy and unforgiving above them, drenching the woman from head to toe, the short darkened blonde hair sticking to her face, the uniform, wet as it now was, uncomfortably glued to her skin, and then of course the rather annoying sensation of water slipping across the metal plating and increasing more weight to it, thereby also increasing her woes. There was that awkward moment of stepping into the Kubelwagen, and she allowed the pilot to climb inside first (as if the woman would have cared for any such silly formalities!) before she took her turn; and it was then that she was attacked with the returning twinge of agony upon that sudden climbing movement, but stifled the soreness deep within her throat, to take her place by the Hauptmann's side. Little did it matter that they had been secured from the rain, their frames both uniformly dripping on the seat and down upon the vehicle's floor, and how peculiar, how agonizing - among all other agonies! - the ache in between her thighs, the vascular reminder of virgin carnality, her aching, beating heart!
She heard the pilot ask of the planes, and distinctly paid attention to the words shared between the two men, but then also another problem arose; how to be the Leutnant. She had never - before the Hauptmann had pounced upon her life in all of his selfish and arrogant brilliance - assimilated to her feminine form and had taken to her male form so thoroughly, that oft she would forget what it were like to be Friederike again. Friederike in her feminine form, for Friederike in her emotional form with all her burdens, duties and troubles could never be forgotten. And now that she had been made to feel like a woman for such prolonged a time - truly, it had only been one day! - how could she be the Leutnant again? This thought deteriorated her condition, and her frown deepened, minding to pay attention to each physical movement she made lest Friederike would make an appearance quite without warning; a concern which had troubled her at first upon taking up the identity of the Leutnant but which, through time, had lessened by virtue of nothing more but assimilation. Kronberg's words sounded reassuring and this served to prevent her from going into a tantrum of distressed manic crescendo, and rather remained as calm as she could - which was not calm at all - in her seat, consumed by such thoughts, and though she might have appeared reposeful and composed at her side inside her she was searing while gazing with eyes wide open outdoors; she vaguely heard Kronberg remark about the lightning, something which at another time would have made her turn affectionate towards the shorter pilot for being so heart-warming and sweet, were she not quite as agonized and distracted as she were at the moment. But then suddenly she groaned, and found her face forced into a rude acquaintance to the door. A deep grumble raised in her throat, and though she tried to stifle it she could not help but voice her surprise and ache from the crushing collision as the man glued her forcefully against the side of the vehicle from the careless driving; if anything, at least it served to for moments benumb her mind from any thought at the abrupt hurt, when she already could feel the bruise forming by the side of her neck and across her ears. Her arms had instinctively jerked and caught at the man as he had fallen upon her, but surely the Hauptfeldwebel could not see her hands grasping at his tunic by the lower back, or as she helped him return to his former position with her arms loosely curled around his waist. And when she let go, she noticed how cold she felt.
The return to the quarters was completed in ominous silence but for the downpour spattering upon the Kubelwagen's roof, the vehicle bumping into ditches and turns that made the return journey unstable; but it was only upon reaching the makeshift road which she knew led to the Wehrmacht line of tents did her heart forget to pulsate, and then it sank. What stared back at her was nothing but a chaotic mess of torn tents lying drenched and thin upon the sand, soldiers running around with small stacks of paperwork secured into their tunics and the poignant noise of clutter, military commands and steel upon steel as machinery was being moved piercing into her ears, that she gaped at it speechless and frowning, her face cold and white, staring at the sight before her, upset and disturbed. And when she turned to look at the man, only distress could be communicated through those eyes ablaze in uncertainty and disbelief. Friederike saw he wanted to speak to her, and yet at the same time refused, his slate vibrancy reflecting the darkened grey of the firmament, but then it dulled and quieted down, at the cleaving sound of the lightning that cracked upon them in need, in despair, and, with water trickling down across the side of her pale cheek she gazed at him through the oppressing loud silence; and absorbed into her existence the remnant of his devoted compulsion that sickened her stomach, their Gordian madness which had been tied into her viscera in the form of a writhing parasite that ate her slowly from within and whose knot instead of loosening to soothe in reality grew firmer by a tenfold, and pressed onto her, demanding, demanding, and virescent pale eyes, confused as they were unsure, did not know if they wished to caress him or appeal to the man, so bemused and blurred they were! But then, she suddenly turned around and briskly pulled the latch when, at the wake of thunder, she shut the door behind her and stepped into the muddy ground, soon enough vanishing into the blaring disorder of the chaotic crowd.
It was needless to say what shock gripped upon the Leutnant the moment she saw it was Kronberg. A rush of emotions came to effuse her with variously themed sensations, and more than anything - assimilation. During their prolonged time in the room, and by virtue of their shared intimacy which had introduced to the woman the novelty of carnal closeness as imposed by the man, she had been made to forget about the military forces, about the war, even of Kronberg; and to see the stocky man before her turned a small but echoing click inside her, as if something - whatever that was - suddenly slapped her back to the reality of their surroundings, out of their warm room and into the unpleasantry of military life but, most importantly, to what had been before she had curled her legs around his waist and warmly placed a small kiss upon his abdomen; before he had first gnawed upon her desperate form against the brick wall close to the caravansera, before she had in anguish danced by the sable leopard and in hatred, in need, imprisoned him with her glaucous gaze. She could not explain what had taken place inside that sandstone room - or why it had taken place - but now that she was looking at Kronberg's face it was harsh reminiscence that came to her with the biting force of the rain which assimilated her to the way things used to be; the Hauptfeldwebel's face which reminded her of the difficult time during the Hauptmann's imprisonment, her visit to their quarters, her argument with Siegner, and then, the characteristic scene of a bleeding Kronberg in silent shock staring back in speechless form at the incensed pilot. And beyond this, the image of his clean and shaven face, ever as arrogant and selfish, looking at her in derision and self-importance.
All these did truly click familiar inside her visceral chaos of mind, and it was Kronberg's face which sent her to that reality of things past, of how it usually were, how it had been, and how strange to what now was; that she were the Leutnant, dressed in those very same military clothes, in short hair, to execute commands and to take the leather belt in her hand and direct it to his face in punishment, simply because of the anguish he had brought to her. It was only a second, the assimilation took place only within that very second of looking at Kronberg, but it was there in a moment's heartbeat, raw and ready, and eager. Distracting her away from such disturbing realisation was the Hauptfeldwebel's voice as he in trembling form announced that the camps had been flooded! Friederike knew not how much more shock she could withstand within the span of a single day - beginning from the Hauptmann's sudden appearance at the caravansera, to their shared intimacy, back to assimilation, and now to this horrifying item of news - that for a moment the world adopted a dreamy texture to its surroundings, curious and bleak, and slightly oppressing. Her heartbeat had without warning risen on its own volition to pulsate violently against her ribcage, and a permanent frown had taken upon her features the appearance of someone vastly disturbed but at the same time prepossessed and anguished with the force of knowledge enforced upon them. For a moment she turned her head and looked at the man. She had many questions to briskly attack Kronberg with, but fortunately the Hauptmann had asked the most important question first, and after the Hauptfeldwebel reassured them both that there were no casualties, only slightly did this pacify her. The news of the flooding was as startling as it was disconcerting, and it would have taken a fool not to notice her widened eyes and dilated irises, the angular facial features standing with muscles stiff and tautened, and lips pursed, the jaw hardened and her fingers curling into her palm in a tight fist as a small outlet for her distress. The downpour pelted heavy and unforgiving above them, drenching the woman from head to toe, the short darkened blonde hair sticking to her face, the uniform, wet as it now was, uncomfortably glued to her skin, and then of course the rather annoying sensation of water slipping across the metal plating and increasing more weight to it, thereby also increasing her woes. There was that awkward moment of stepping into the Kubelwagen, and she allowed the pilot to climb inside first (as if the woman would have cared for any such silly formalities!) before she took her turn; and it was then that she was attacked with the returning twinge of agony upon that sudden climbing movement, but stifled the soreness deep within her throat, to take her place by the Hauptmann's side. Little did it matter that they had been secured from the rain, their frames both uniformly dripping on the seat and down upon the vehicle's floor, and how peculiar, how agonizing - among all other agonies! - the ache in between her thighs, the vascular reminder of virgin carnality, her aching, beating heart!
She heard the pilot ask of the planes, and distinctly paid attention to the words shared between the two men, but then also another problem arose; how to be the Leutnant. She had never - before the Hauptmann had pounced upon her life in all of his selfish and arrogant brilliance - assimilated to her feminine form and had taken to her male form so thoroughly, that oft she would forget what it were like to be Friederike again. Friederike in her feminine form, for Friederike in her emotional form with all her burdens, duties and troubles could never be forgotten. And now that she had been made to feel like a woman for such prolonged a time - truly, it had only been one day! - how could she be the Leutnant again? This thought deteriorated her condition, and her frown deepened, minding to pay attention to each physical movement she made lest Friederike would make an appearance quite without warning; a concern which had troubled her at first upon taking up the identity of the Leutnant but which, through time, had lessened by virtue of nothing more but assimilation. Kronberg's words sounded reassuring and this served to prevent her from going into a tantrum of distressed manic crescendo, and rather remained as calm as she could - which was not calm at all - in her seat, consumed by such thoughts, and though she might have appeared reposeful and composed at her side inside her she was searing while gazing with eyes wide open outdoors; she vaguely heard Kronberg remark about the lightning, something which at another time would have made her turn affectionate towards the shorter pilot for being so heart-warming and sweet, were she not quite as agonized and distracted as she were at the moment. But then suddenly she groaned, and found her face forced into a rude acquaintance to the door. A deep grumble raised in her throat, and though she tried to stifle it she could not help but voice her surprise and ache from the crushing collision as the man glued her forcefully against the side of the vehicle from the careless driving; if anything, at least it served to for moments benumb her mind from any thought at the abrupt hurt, when she already could feel the bruise forming by the side of her neck and across her ears. Her arms had instinctively jerked and caught at the man as he had fallen upon her, but surely the Hauptfeldwebel could not see her hands grasping at his tunic by the lower back, or as she helped him return to his former position with her arms loosely curled around his waist. And when she let go, she noticed how cold she felt.
The return to the quarters was completed in ominous silence but for the downpour spattering upon the Kubelwagen's roof, the vehicle bumping into ditches and turns that made the return journey unstable; but it was only upon reaching the makeshift road which she knew led to the Wehrmacht line of tents did her heart forget to pulsate, and then it sank. What stared back at her was nothing but a chaotic mess of torn tents lying drenched and thin upon the sand, soldiers running around with small stacks of paperwork secured into their tunics and the poignant noise of clutter, military commands and steel upon steel as machinery was being moved piercing into her ears, that she gaped at it speechless and frowning, her face cold and white, staring at the sight before her, upset and disturbed. And when she turned to look at the man, only distress could be communicated through those eyes ablaze in uncertainty and disbelief. Friederike saw he wanted to speak to her, and yet at the same time refused, his slate vibrancy reflecting the darkened grey of the firmament, but then it dulled and quieted down, at the cleaving sound of the lightning that cracked upon them in need, in despair, and, with water trickling down across the side of her pale cheek she gazed at him through the oppressing loud silence; and absorbed into her existence the remnant of his devoted compulsion that sickened her stomach, their Gordian madness which had been tied into her viscera in the form of a writhing parasite that ate her slowly from within and whose knot instead of loosening to soothe in reality grew firmer by a tenfold, and pressed onto her, demanding, demanding, and virescent pale eyes, confused as they were unsure, did not know if they wished to caress him or appeal to the man, so bemused and blurred they were! But then, she suddenly turned around and briskly pulled the latch when, at the wake of thunder, she shut the door behind her and stepped into the muddy ground, soon enough vanishing into the blaring disorder of the chaotic crowd.
