CPT Obmeyer: Ch. 5
Imported from SF2 with no description.
KEEP TALKING
Lotte, like most mornings, wakes up before you do.
Last night was...different, so you were both in bed even earlier than normal.
She let you hold her last night. You took a chance and wrapped your arm around her chest.
She didn't push you away or grumble. In fact, she fell asleep when she felt your body against hers.
Unlike most mornings, Lotte preemptively clicks the alarm off. She moves to climb out of bed, and is genuinely confused when she sees your hand holding her.
She hesitates for a moment before taking great care to slip quietly out of your grasp.
The gesture makes you feel gooey inside.
Unknown to Lotte, you woke up just a moment after her. After all these weeks, that damn alarm clock has you trained to wake up on instinct.
She creeps out of the room once she's wiggled out from under you and, naked as the day she was born, reaches for the kitchen telephone.
Your wife is formal as ever, even now, and stands at parade rest when whoever she's calling picks up.
"Good morning ma'am. I'm sorry to call you at this hour, but my uniform was ruined last night during the attack. Permission to stand watch in PT gear?"
...
"Bloodstains, ma'am. My backup is still being laundered."
...
"There...no ma'am. There was no incident. I was in full control of myself."
...
...
"He...yes, that is correct. My husband directed Major Charles's emergency treatment after Corpswoman Van Reuters's unfortunate fatality."
"That-, That's a personal matter, ma'am."
...
"A great honor, ma'am. He'll be happy to hear it."
...
Lotte pulls the phone away from her face and groans irritably.
"That's not necessary ma'am. I'm fit for duty."
"Again, that's a personal matter."
...
"Is that an order?"
...
"Understood. I'll see you tomorrow."
Lotte quietly hangs up the phone.
Eyes closed, you feel her slip back under the covers. A moment later you feel her lips against yours.
It's a hesitant kiss, very much unlike your wife, but far more genuinely affectionate than the ceremonial kisses she's given in the past.
Her lips linger just out of reach, and her warm breath spills over your face as she speaks.
"Dearest...are you awake?"
"Yeah..."
Lotte's arms wrap around you, and you're pulled into an embrace. Her chin rests gently against your head, and your vision is clouded by a face full of bunny fluff.
Part of you is immediately aroused knowing that your wife's nipples are so close.
"You... love me." She whispers, as if trying the concept on for size.
"I do..." You whisper back.
A moment of hesitation passes.
A set of lips touches your forehead. "Good boy."
'Her good boy,' you think, and your heart flutters. It feels so right to be called that, and to make her proud of you.
The excitement in your heart explodes outward, and you quickly produce for her an eager and twitching erection.
Lotte's response is wordless as she traces circles across your length with a finger.
"Mine..." She whispers.
You thrust against her longingly.
"Please, please mommy...I want to put it inside."
This is the worst thing you could have said.
Lotte's tone changes immediately, and her hand jerks away from you.
"No." She states flatly. "There is no room for discussion in this matter."
Lotte's usual frown returns to her face, and your heart sinks like a stone.
What...God, what's going on!? You broke through to her!
You spent the evening in each other's embrace and opened your heart to her!
Last night, as you held her in your arms and washed the blood from her hair, it seemed like everything was going to finally be different.
It takes real willpower not to moan pitifully.
"I require something of you."
Captain Obmeyer stands out of bed. "Wait here." She orders.
Your wife departs for the bathroom and you wrap yourself in her heavy blankets.
They smell just like her. Even the plain, boring soap she uses is giving you heart ache.
You close your eyes, shut the world out around you, and go away inside.
Forget Lotte
Forget the heartache
Forget your responsibilities, for just a moment.
Put your troubles behind the wall.
...
You feel a hand on your shoulders and awaken.
CPT Obmeyer is there in her PT gear and holding a plastic cup.
"Ejaculate into this."
Well, that was impersonal.
Lotte just kind of stood there as you jerked off. You knew she wouldn't let you touch her so long as she was in a uniform, so the process was frustratingly slow.
You had to reopen thoughts of your wife's body from behind the wall to finish, which immediately bummed you the hell out.
She screws the cap on tight and seals it with a label containing your personal information.
"Thank you, husband, for fulfilling your duty. Regulations require us to keep a sample on ice at all times in the event of tragedy."
Of course. And here you were hoping it was some kind of fetish thing.
"I was...unsure how to collect."
Could've touched you, for one.
You give a heavy sigh and sit on the edge of the bed.
To your surprise, Lotte takes a seat next to you. Soft lips touch your cheek.
"You never cease to impress, Dearest."
And suddenly you're in love all over again.
You shower, dress, and cook breakfast while Lotte sits on the windowsill and smokes her morning cigarette.
"Major Charles told Colonel Honore about yesterday's events. She has recommended you for The Iron Wreath."
She sniffs. "Additionally, I was instructed to be careful whose daughters I lecture in proper respect."
You pull the eggs off the stove and look at her in disbelief. "An award?"
"Indeed."
"Not a Brass Wreath? An iron one?!"
"Correct. An Iron Wreath for Meritorious Service."
You must be beaming right now, because Lotte gives you the smallest of smiles before turning away.
She takes a drag of her cigarette and blows smoke into the bitter morning wind, her shoulder length hair waving gently in the breeze.
"You left a positive impression on everyone involved. The decision has already been approved and routed. The pinning ceremony is in two days time."
Lotte crushes the butt of her cigarette and flicks it into her little container. "I suspect they want photos for the month's army newsprint."
Oh. So it's a propaganda thing.
"Pointless," your wife says with annoyance. "Putting MY HUSBAND in front of every horny boot at basic and every shameless pervert like Goll..."
She sighs, and looks at you. "Still, it serves a purpose, and your award was rightly earned."
You turn back to the eggs.
"As an aside, I have been given mandatory leave," she mutters.
"Completely unnecessary and an irritant, but the CO is sentimental. I am to look after your well-being following yesterday's ordeal."
You finish plating Lotte's eggs, stick a chunk of butter on her warm toast, and arrange the bacon in an aesthetically pleasing manner.
Because of course you do. Cooking is an art!
Lotte climbs out of the window and meets you at the table. You finish plating your own breakfast, and sit together like a real couple for once.
"This is nice." You say.
"Indeed. sunnyside up eggs are difficult to make. You and Madder are the only ones to have ever cooked them correctly."
"Oh? What's she like?" You ask idly.
Lotte stops with a fork full of egg hovering just outside her mouth. She blinks in incomprehension for a moment before her expression hardens into iron.
Oh fuck...
Captain Obmeyer's fork returns to the table, her frown deepens, and her gaze fixes unmovingly on you.
"I am going to forgive you this time, husband, as you asked in ignorance and I misspoke," she says, slowly leaning forward in a manner somehow both subdued and intimidating.
"Do not, however, mistake my clemency for candor. You will never speak of what you just heard, and you will never, EVER ask about this topic again. Am I understood?"
Your heart drops for the second time in the same morning, and you swallow fearfully.
"Yes ma'am."
"Good," she says, and returns to her breakfast as if nothing happened.
"Finish up," she says, a piece of toast by her mouth, "we have tasks to complete today."
For once in your relationship, it's your turn to give Lotte some clothes.
With her greatcoat out of action and backup at the cleaners, you take the liberty of attending your wife with your father's old bomber jacket.
It fits her very well, even if the sleeves are a tad short, and it's no problem a pair of gloves won't fix.
You, meanwhile, have the pleasure of wearing the heavy black coat Lotte bought for you last week.
Knowing what you know now, it puts the gesture into an entirely new light.
Catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, you notice it looks quite a bit like her greatcoat.
...come to think of it, the shirt and pants she bought you look a hell of a lot like her PT gear. Black pants, gray shirt, black boots...
You wonder if this is subconscious, or a deliberate effort to dress you "in uniform."
Beside this thought, you and Lotte spend the rest of the day in a confusing mire of emotion.
You broke through to her. In a little way, but a major way to your relationship.
Lotte kissed you, genuinely and of her own free will, and treated you like she cares for a change.
You try to suppress the excitement in your heart.
She called you her "Dearest..."
Still, she threw you off of her when you asked for sex.
You told her you love her, and she side-stepped saying it back.
If it came right down to it, Lotte would pick her duty and the State over you every time.
And then she froze your spunk in a cup. No clue how to interpret that one.
You're standing outside of the base clinic, listening uncomfortably to Lotte shouting at some poor receptionist.
Your leash has been tied to a metal ring on the wall, which you suspect was installed for this very purpose.
Going away inside seems like an attractive option until you feel someone tugging on your sleeve.
You look down.
Big brown eyes and an adorable smile look back up at you.
"Beckett?"
"Pavel!~" the little bunny shouts cheerfully, wrapping your midsection in a hug. "I heard the news! I'm so proud of you little brother!"
She pulls back and those big eyes shimmer at you. "You're getting an Iron Wreath, that's a big deal! Some girls go their whole career without getting a Brass Wreath!"
You can't help but smile back. Talking with Beckett when she's happy is like talking to a magical stuffed animal in a story book.
"I'm sure someone sung my praises in the office."
"I wonder who~" She sing-songs.
"Did cleanup go okay, Pavel?"
"Well enough."
"How'd Lotte sleep?"
"Like a brick. So, the usual."
"'The usual!'" Beckett says, clapping her hands excitedly. "Gosh, that change never fails to impress. Did she thank you?"
"... In a way."
"Did she hold you?"
"Surprisingly, yes."
"Did she," Beckett lightly gasps, "real-kiss you?"
A lot more than that...
You cheekily look up and away from Beckett.
"My wife says I'm not supposed to talk to strangers when I'm on the leash," you say like an innocent child.
The bunny takes your hands into hers and draws your gaze.
"Do you see what I meant now? Lotte's got a deep inner life. She's complex! If you just do what you're told and pay attention, you see she's a really caring person. I'm so glad to see my best friend looking so happy."
You laugh uncomfortably when you hear Lotte hurl something expensive at an irate orderly.
Best friend, huh? Your wife doesn't seem the kind to even want friends.
For her, the world seems to be made up of colleagues, subordinates, and roadblocks to power.
Where the hell do you even fit into that?
And HAPPY? Lotte's mood doesn't work that way.
Your heart sinks at the thought of all this, and you try to stop yourself from becoming depressed again.
'Maybe she'll want to cuddle again tonight...'
Beckett reads your expression, reaches up, and boops you on the nose. "Name a daughter after me, okay?"
You laugh. "I would, if anyone ever told me your first name."
"My friends call me BB!"
"But what's your name?"
"You already know it, silly!"
You fold your arms. "That's a bit cryptic, don't you think?"
Beckett giggles. "The hard part's over now. Try asking for some more books. I bet Lotte says yes."
Your wife comes stomping out of the clinic, looking like some wiseass recruit called her 'sir' today.
"Husband! The kwaks demand your signature on my sample." She shouts, seething at the indignity of having to talk to mere medics.
She takes you by the hand and pulls you into the office without even a nod to her self-proclaimed best friend.
Beckett takes it in stride and waves as you go.
It's time for the dry cleaners next. As luck would have it, Lotte's spare uniform is ready early. Then it's off to the commissary.
Lotte buys you a pair of formal black pants and a gray shirt for the pinning tomorrow. They're both women's cut, but that's what you can find on short notice this far from civilization.
Half your closet is cut for women.
A small bookshelf of Inspectorate-approved literature sits in the corner, and you bite your lip.
"Excuse me Lotte, could I get a book?"
Your wife's eyes widen in surprise, and her frown disappears for once.
Striding up to shelves, it takes her a good 20 minutes to read each title, their forwards, their Inspectorate Rating, and the first few pages.
"Take two and no more."
You spent the evening after dinner reading a heavily annotated book called For Whom The Bell Tolls.
Its official summary warns prospective readers that "this work has been reprinted due to its cultural and historical significance, per the First Chairwoman's call for us to honor the traditions of our husbands."
"Though its subject matter is intense and of a rebellious tone, it is also educational in its depiction of the inherent instability of a male-dominated world."
"Inspectorate Rating: C. Not suitable for children or impressionable males."
You made decent progress before Lotte called you to bed.
She took your hand and placed it on her chest when the lights went out.
You were so touched you pulled her into an embrace despite your own trepidation.
She didn't resist.
"Good night, Dearest."
The next morning, and the one after that, are the same as always in your home, though with a certain element of breeziness that wasn't there before.
On the day of the ceremony the food comes out perfect, you blouse Lotte's boots with ease, and there's enough warm water for you to get a shower in before it's gone for the day.
Your wife takes her hat, says farewell, and steps out the door before stopping in her tracks as if she'd forgotten something.
She turns around, takes you by the chin, and gently kissed you.
"I...will be back at 1200 to collect you for the 1300 pinning ceremony."
Lotte is back before it feels like you've even blinked. Time flies when you've got a good book.
The leash clicks on, and you're led to another office in a Before-time building some distance from the Central Administration Building.
Your wife ties you to another ring on the wall, this time in a waiting room, and orders you to wait to be summoned.
You were able to get a cup of water from the fountain before she left though, which is nice. This is already better than the last time you were leashed up.
A polite calico in a green uniform like Beckett's and a camera sitting in her lap waves cordially to you.
She tries to strike up a conversation, but nods respectfully when you point silently to the leash.
At 1245 hours a new anthro enters the room from behind a locked door in the middle of the waiting room.
You fail to notice immediately, and she apparently takes this as an insult.
It's impossible to mistake who she is when she takes up your leash and gags you without warning.
You claw at your collar, trying to get any extra breathing space, and go still when you recognize the perpetrator.
Inspector Goll is twirling your leash around her finger, and has her shirt unbuttoned.
"Hey there cutiepie.~" The heifer says, resting her milk tanks on the armrest. "Whatcha lookin' at?~ See somethin' you like?~"
You snap your head away from Goll, cheeks pink, and search for help.
Lotte? Beckett?? You'll take CPT Washington at this point. Someone please, you can't be alone with this woman!
The calico with the camera is standing up from her seat and preparing to make a hasty exit.
By some miracle, you manage to catch her eyes and silently cry for help.
'Please,' your expression screams, 'Don't leave me alone with her!'
The calico bites her lip and flicks her eyes guiltily towards the hallway.
'Please...!'
Doreen's smile droops into an unamused frown, and she yanks your leash again, hard.
"It's rude to ignore someone when they're talking to you, Pavel. We're going to have to work on that if you're ever going to make a good husband."
The housecat meets your gaze, adjusts her camera strap... and sits back down.
Thank you, stranger...
Inspector Goll, frustrated, huffs, and gives "MC2 Farshaw" a mean look.
"Pooh..." She grumbles childishly, then changes tactics.
The heifer takes the end of your leash, and slides it between her cleavage and down her shirt.
Her hand touches your thigh seductively, and she leans further in.
She appears to have worn a push up bra for the occasion, and makes damn sure you see the edges of it.
"That's okay though, because there's going to be plenty of time for that!~ I've finally got you all to myself, and I have so many questions I want to ask.~ Lottie-Dottie never tells me anything about you, and I'm supposed to be your first advocate!~"
She reaches a hand between her tits. "Which reminds me, I have something special for you. I was worried there might be some unlawful retaliation in the home if Lotte saw me giving this to you, so I'm going give it to you now."
Inspector Goll, after a good bit of unnecessary searching and a fair bit of jiggling, presents an official looking business card for the "Official Army Husband Self-Advocacy Line" from her bra.
To your immense discomfort and unhappy arousal, the card smells strongly of girl. Doreen flips the card around before she hands it to you, revealing a personal phone number and a heart scratched into the back.
"I'm more than ready to pick up the phone if you feel the desire to start proceedings early.~" Inspector Goll says with a wink. "Healthy boys like you shouldn't be trapped in loveless homes with annoying little nits like Obmeyer.~"
She picks up your cup. "Thirsty?"
You shake your head anxiously.
"Well, I am."
She tucks the card into your front pocket and kisses your cheek. "I'm here when you're ready for me precious. It's okay!~ We're going to get to know each other so well.~"
This up close and personal you notice every one of the heifer's imperfections, from the stale scent of alcohol on her breath to the literal paint she seems to have brushed over her crow's feet.
MC2 Farshaw comes to your rescue.
"WELP!" the cat shouts, standing up suddenly, "Time for the ceremony! I-Inspector Goll Ma'am, I'll be needing the leash. I'm supposed to take him in at 1250 hours."
There's a moment of uncomfortable silence as your so-called advocate tries to come up with an excuse.
"He's mine, thank you very much. You can run along though, little boot. I'll bring him when I'm ready."
"No can do ma'am," the cat squeaks, failing to sound casual. "Major's own orders. He's a very special guy today, -haha-, and we need to get there early to set up the lighting."
Inspector Goll sneers, buttons her red-fringed uniform, and tosses the leash disrespectfully onto the floor. "Here, kitty-kitty. Try not to use him as a scratching post."
MC2 Farshaw picks up the leash without another word, opens the middle door, and leads you down the hallway without stopping to look back.
"I am so, SO sorry that just happened to you, Mr. Obmeyer! Even I know she has a reputation. I'll totally cover for you, but first we need to find the Captain."
Speak of the devil, and your salvation, and she will appear. MC2 Farshaw runs right into your wife after rounding the very first corner.
Lotte's look turns from annoyance, to curiosity, to intense anger in the span of half a second, all filtered through her reserved expressions.
"MC2 Farshaw, Why. Do you. Have. My. Husband?" She asks, ice and hate dripping from her voice.
Lotte's hand grips the side of her greatcoat tightly, just above where you know for a fact she holsters her handgun. "Pick your next words carefully."
"I-Inspector Goll! SHE WAS DOING THE THING! I was scared for him!" The poor innocent cat wails. "She was being super rapey!"
Lotte's red eyes narrow, and she looks at you suspiciously. "Is this true, husband?"
You nod enthusiastically. Lotte's military bearing returns to her immediately, and she calmly takes your leash.
"Thank you, MC2, for your honorable conduct. This misunderstanding was unfortunate, and though not an official part of your duties, The State expects all of her uniformed servants to defend our most precious resource from abuse."
Your wife raises her ears and moves to look down the corridor you came from.
"Even from those in uniform who abuse their authority. I will remember your integrity during evaluation season."
Lotte turns without another word and tugs your leash. "Come Pavel, the ceremony is this way."
You hear the telltale sound of Inspector Goll's high heeled boots around the corner, and reach for your wife.