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- 02/15/2025
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Operation Ganymede - 13. Chapter 13 - Staging
Arnfried returns tense from the interview with Dettmann, leaving his roommate Eiseinmann perplexed and worried. One floor below, the Oberleutnant savors the manipulation of Arnfried, orchestrated with Machiavellian precision. The tension rises as Eiseinmann is summoned to join Dettmann, leaving behind an atmosphere heavy with unresolved questions.
9:40 PM, Room of the Two Hitler Youth
— To you.
The twilight had enveloped the room in dark silhouettes, the flickering light of a lantern casting moving shadows on the walls, creating an almost ghostly ambiance. Arnfried Klein, returning to their shared room, clenched his jaw, his face betraying a palpable tension, almost tangible in the heavy air. Eiseinmann, lying on the bed with a book in his hands, looked up, immediately sensing his friend's distress.
— Now??
— Ja, hurry up!
Eiseinmann, still wearing his day clothes, checked his attire with a haste that betrayed his concern. Arnfried, on the other hand, looked like a ghost, frozen in the doorway, his eyes so drained of energy that one would think he had just weathered an internal storm.
— Wow, really! What was that??
Arnfried remained silent, his gaze lost in a chaotic abyss of thoughts, the images from the interview still vivid and disturbing.
— But what?!
— Go, he’s waiting for you.
— It lasted twenty minutes, I calculated!
— Twenty? Arnfried would have thought it was an eternity!
In haste, Eiseinmann adjusted his stockings, casting a compassionate glance at his companion who had collapsed onto the bed, understanding that something must have inevitably happened. Mission elimination? Something else, but serious enough to cause such a morale drop?? But time was pressing — the officer was waiting. He dashed towards the stairs, leaving behind a room steeped in unanswered questions.
Perfekt!
Peter Dettmann, one floor below...
In his office, Oberleutnant Dettmann was repositioning the chair with almost ritualistic precision, savoring the subtle scent of the manipulation that had just concluded. This stratagem, devised during dinner, had exceeded all his expectations. The mission, this decoy for these malleable young minds, had never required such staging, but the promise of competition, of challenge, had been irresistible to these adolescents conditioned to blind obedience.
How to proceed? The solution had come naturally, facilitated by this generation which, despite its natural vigor, had been turned into docile sheep by the cult of the Führer. Klein, with his five years in the Hitler Youth, embodied this transformation, a boy responding to every whim of authority with disconcerting submissiveness.
And there, the fantasy came to life: a boy obeying your every command without protest! It had started with those underwear, an object of curiosity and desire, the fabric barely visible between his trembling fingers. Show? Without a hint of hesitation, the Hitler Youth had complied, revealing that exciting vulnerability before the exposure. And what a sight! That piece of fabric, no more than twenty centimeters, hugging every curve, suggesting a form both innocent and provocative. The idea of making him remove his shirt? A stroke of genius. Klein, now bare-chested, submitted without question, even offering a view of his firm, round backside.
In the silence of his office, Dettmann relived every moment of that encounter, each memory lighting up his mind like a flash of pleasure. He remembered that first contact, that soft resistance that promised so much... Looking up, he had caught that look mixing confusion and submission, fueling his desire. Surprised, huh? But wait for what's next... His fingers then found the glans, delicately tracing the contours, savoring that promise of pleasure, watching the internal struggle on the young Hitler Youth's face. Leaves you speechless, doesn't it, my dear... I've been waiting for this for so long! Intoxicated by this ease, the officer then pinched the foreskin, enjoying the texture of that soft flesh through the cotton. A fleeting youth... He scrutinized every expression, seeking signs of this new understanding, of this innocence about to be tarnished. Come on, don't tell me you've never done this with your friends? And yet, I'm just touching, not even looking, see? Then, he had gone on to explore even the hairs, a sign of emerging manhood, with almost sensual interest. Mmm... not bad... tss... yes yes young man... I even allow myself to look, there.
These memories were for Dettmann a tapestry of domination, each look towards Arnfried reinforcing his sense of control, of manipulation. It wasn't just a physical examination but a profound violation of the mind, a demonstration of power where every reaction from the Hitler Youth under his command was scrutinized, analyzed, and savored.
Knock-knock...
— Eissemann?
With diligence, Dettmann checked that everything was in order: the chairs, the beige folder, the dimmed light. Perfekt...
— COME IN!
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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