Svetlana watched as the other young watch officer leaned over her desk, looking through the scattered files, her brow furrowed. She didn’t notice Svetlana watching her from the latter’s location, hidden in the shadows, a gloved hand bringing up a steaming cup of coffee to her lips.
She had been at the watchtower a month, yet had barely spoken to Svetlana. She spent all night rummaging through files of German convicts, saying that it was “her hobby” to study them. When she told that to the other guards, they laughed as she giggled and blushed, giving her a pat the shoulder as they turned away.
But not Svetlana. Never Svetlana.
She wouldn’t fall for another woman’s tricks like the bumbling male counterparts of the tower. Before this girl had arrived, Svetlana was the only woman administrator in the facility; was she simply jealous of this new girl? Or was there something really there that bothered her? Why would she be studying German convicts? Why the interest in their enemy? Did that turn her on, to flirt with the enemy? Or was it something far more sinister?
Her lips curled at the peered past the steam, watching the girl drag her red fingernail across the name of a German war criminal who had been captured and sentenced to death only a few months prior, a look of pain on her face. Svetlana tilted her head to the side as she noticed that she no longer took off her watchman’s cap, it was always fitted on her head of long, black hair, always snug.
Her hair was also a curious thing; the shade of black that it was almost seemed unreal; no light shone off of it during the day, as if it sucked all color into it, never allowing it to escape. Black hair was common in Russia... hell, Svetlana’s own hair was... but hers seemed different. It was an odd thing to go off of, but Svetlana decided that she had to follow her instincts.
She placed the coffee cup on her desk, exchanging it for a pen that sat adjacent to it. Casually tapping the end of the pen against her gloved thumb, she strolled towards the other woman, her head still down, her attention fixed on the file. She looked up at her briefly, blinking her heavily shadowed eyelids before smiling up at her.
“Hello, Svetlana!”
“Hello, Maria. I don’t mean to disturb you, I’m just looking for a file of my own to study.”
She giggled at her before looking down again, her long, curly hair cascading down her shoulders.
There must have been a better way for Svetlana to remove her cap, but her adrenaline surged through her, telling her to act. She poked the pen through the small ribbon on the top of her cap, and pulled up. The cap flew off Maria’s head, landing on the floor below with a quiet 'plop!', but Svetlana’s eyes were on her part.
Blonde. Golden blonde.
“Svetlana!” she giggled at first, but her face fell as she turned her head to meet Svetlana’s gaze, her cold blue eyes fixated on the top of her scalp.
“Can... I help you with something?” she asked, bending down to retrieve her cap.
Svetlana quickly grabbed her and threw her over the desk, her ass high in the air.
“You can help me figure out why a German is in a Russian watch tower, for a camp built for German war criminals.”
She stuttered, but as if she didn’t need even more evidence, she found a small piece of paper poking out of her back pocket. She smiled as he gingerly plucked it from her pants, clearing her throat as she began to read it.
“Anja, my love, I can not wait to be with you once more.
–Jakob”
She craned her neck to see the file she had spent all night looking at, then nodded, as to affirm her own question.
“I can see you and Prisoner 1149 are already acquainted.”
“Please, it was a note I confiscated from him! My name is Maria, I am from Moscow, I swear!”
"Why does a girl from Moscow need to dye her hair black?”
“There’s plenty of Russians with blonde hair!”
“Ah, yes. But none of them feel the need to hide their roots under a cap...” she leaned down to retrieve the cap, toying with it before reaching over the desk and shoving it in her mouth. “I will hear no more of your lies, ‘Maria’.”
She pulled down her pants as she made muffled moans against the cotton cap, removing one leather glove from her hand, grinning as Anja jumped at the sound of the leather being pulled off of her captor’s hand. A quick slap of the glove against her round, white bottom, caused her to make a defiant groan, and Svetlana realized she had been much too forward with gagging her. She tore the cap out of her mouth, smiling at the red, shameful face of the German girl below her, her dyed black hair already messy from hiding her embarrassment from Svetlana.
“Tell me, Anja. Have you ever been with a woman?”
Screw. You.”
“Maybe you should.” Svetlana answered, swatting her with the glove once more.
“Jakob will kill you.” She spat out, but only received another swat, then another.
“I don’t think he will. In fact, he might find this rather enjoyable. Could you imagine? They let him out of his cell...“ swat! “...only he gets to see you, the love of his life, bent over a desk, taking a spanking from a true Russian girl?”
“It is not much of a spanking, I can barely feel anything, you feeble Russian girl!” she yelled back, her mouth curled into a snarl.
Svetlana smiled, her eyebrows raised.
“You’re right, Anja. It isn’t much of a spanking. Let me show you how a proper spanking is done in the Motherland.”
She raised her other hand high above Anja’s ass, and laid her gloved hand down as hard as she could, the smack! ringing even in her ears, laughing cruelly as she heard Anja gasp in surprise and pain. She laid her hand down once more, watching her ass jiggle and grow redder by the second, alternating cheeks, making sure one was as red as the other.
“Stop this! I swear you Russian bitch, I will destroy you!” she spat out, her hair messy from her head shaking as she received her spanks. Svetlana moved quickly, zip-‐tying Anja’s hands together against the leg of the table. She struggled, but couldn’t move from her submissive position, allowing Svetlana to spank her more, her gloved hand making an echoing smack! through the room each time.
“How will you stop me now, Anja? There’s nowhere for you to go.”
Smack!
“AUA!!!”
“What will it be, Anja?”
Smack!
“AUA!!!”
She listened for the German’s response, spanking her each time a second went by in silence. Finally, she heard the girl muster a weak response, one that Svetlana had to bend over to hear, her eyebrows raised in genuine curiosity.
“I’ll just stop giving you what you want.”
Svetlana furrowed her brow as she thought about this, but laid her hand down hard on her backside once more. Nothing. Not a sound from the German girl. She spanked her again, and then again, with no pitiful gasps, groans, or pleas escaping Anja’s lips. Not even when she continuously smacked her bottom, over and over, each second was filled with two spanks, even using both hands.
She would not let this German spy win. Germans never won, not then, and not now.
Svetlana looked around the room, desperate to find a tool to assist her with punishing the German girl. She though about the ruler that lay on the desk, picturing the spy writhing in pain as she slammed it against her ass, but would it be good enough? Would it leave red welts for her to look upon in shame?
Her eyes graced the desk, but her lips turned into a smirk as she saw what she needed; a rubberband ball. She grabbed it without the spy seeing, her protests and groans fell on deaf ears as Svetlana unwound one of the rubber bands from the ball, placing her index finger and thumb through it, and putting it centimeters from Anja’s ass. She said nothing as she pulled the rubberband back with her other fingers, then let go.
“Du Schlampe!“ Anja screeched, her head turning back to shoot daggers at Svetlana, who smiled back with a raised eyebrow.
“If only I would have spanked you before I discovered your true identity... you would have just let me known, just like that, wouldn’t you? Tsk tsk tsk... such an awful spy...” her words trailed off as she let the rubberband hit Anja’s raw ass yet again, eliciting a high, pained groan from the German’s lips. She kept stretching the rubberband out farther and farther, giggling at Anja’s flinches, teasing her by holding out the band and not snapping it back for minutes at a time. She loved torturing this little spy, the way she would try to hide her whimpers from the Russian girl, all while unable to hold on to anything to prevent her from flinching each time the band snapped against her.
“How long did you think you were going to get by as a Russian?”
Snap!
“AUTSCH!!! Long enough to break Jakob out of prison!”
Snap!
“AUTSCH!!!”
Snap!
“AUTSCH!!!”
Snap!
“AUTSCH!!!”
“And you didn’t think you would be found out? You stink of failure, like a true German.”
“You do not have the right to judge, you filthy communist.“
SNAP!
“EEYOOW!!!”
SNAP!
“YARAAA!!!”
SNAP!
“AUTSCH!!! Mein Gott!”
Anja cried out as she felt the band lash against her abused backside, Svetlana still towering over her, pulling the band back one more time before releasing it.
Svetlana heard men walking up the stairs, Anja’s eyes glaring back at her. Svetlana deduced that the German was thinking that she could finally escape, and she was right. Svetlana had no exit plan; the guards would come up, see her abusing another officer, and throw her in a cell. She thought fast, remembering the note from Jakob and placing it next to Anja, hopefully the guards would put her blonde roots and the note together. To help them more, she took a large, black marker from the desk and wrote: ANJA - GERMAN WHORE! on the filthy spy’s red ass.
Svetlana shook her head slowly as Anja looked back at her, shoving the cap back into her mouth. She grabbed the ruler she had been eyeing before, and raisedit high above the German’s backside. She hit her fast, swinging the ruler in rapid motions, hitting each cheek while she listened to the proximity of the men below mixed with Anja’s muffled screams. As she heard them fumble with the lock on the door, she quickly backed away from Anja, her ass still red with welt marks from the band and her captor’s hands, her own still tied together to the table leg.
Svetlana slipped out the back door, holding it open only a sliver to watch as the guardsmen entered, their chatter stopping as they saw the girl before them, bent over the table, her ass red. Only a few looked around the room, the others still amazed by the sight before them. Svetlana let the door close behind her after she saw the look of utter shame on Anja’s face as one guard helped cut her free, her hair covering the embarrassment of her blushing cheeks, matching the parlor of her behind.
