Published: Jan 17, 2024

My eighty-first caption, this time a spur-of-the-moment caption based on Warhammer 40k. I also used the occasion to experiment with my format, better suited to wide images.

Everyone usually hates the Commissar. Guardsman Alexio Crayn is no exception. While delivering supplies one day, Alexio discovers someone else inside of the Commissar's quarters…

All image credits go to Nick Xinderz. I do not own any rights to the image used. Please support the artist!

All image credits go to their respective artists. I have and never will claim ownership over any image I've used or modified for a caption, and I always encourage you to check out the artist and their wider body of work when possible.

It had been a long campaign for Corporal Alexio Crayn, a Guardsman of the Astra Militarum. After months of fighting off the Feral Orks on Kaurava II, things had finally begun to die down. The planet, despite their previous presence, was still very pretty and ripe for colonization, with the southern continent containing some particularly fertile farmland. If things were different, assuming nothing else happened or they weren’t redeployed to another world, Alexio might have considered settling down in a place like this, maybe see some peace on a world he helped wipe a xenos infestation from. But he knew that wasn’t likely, at least with their current Commissar.

Commissar Caleb Obutian was, for lack of a better term, a frakking shithead. When he had arrived four months ago in the midst of our campaign against the Orks, he had made it very clear that he considered my comrades and I more of a nuisance than anything else, some “unfortunate” stepping stone for him to overcome before progressing his career. He made our Lieutenant look like a kitten by comparison, running random firing drills, bunker checks, and inventory inspections whenever he felt like it. Even after we had cleared out the last few pockets of Orks across the continent, he still insisted on running constant drills and spying on the conversations between my comrades and I. He must have noticed my disdain for him recently, because I had recently been “chosen” to be the squad’s dedicated supply mule.

After spending the better part of a day hauling supplies seven miles back to our fortifications without a vehicle, I dropped off the usual crates of ammunition and supplies to my fellow comrades, who simply seemed happy that it wasn’t one of them doing this job. I suppose I should have been thankful somewhat, because if the Commissar heard something, it was likely one of the less inflammatory things I had said. Knocking on the door to his private, armored quarters, I braced myself for him.

“Just give him the supplies and leave. Keep a straight face, and just say ”Yes Commissar” until he tells you to leave.” I mentally reminded myself, knowing that if he suspected anything other than complete loyalty from me, he could just have me killed on the spot. “Don’t do anything stupid, just keep a straight face and leave…”

Knocking on the door, I waited a few moments, repeating that mantra in my head before the armored door slid open, revealing not the Commissar, but a short woman wearing clothes similar to his own! Though she was quite short, she was not a child, having wide hips that seemingly strained the confines of her white pants and boots.

“Guardsman Crayn, it's about time! You’re almost two whole minutes late!” She spoke with some sense of authority, her hands placed directly against her battle belt.

“What th- who are you?!” I spoke with sudden surprise, getting her to glare at me. “Where’s Commissar Obutian, and why are you wearing his clothes?”

“What exactly do you mean, Guardsman?” She immediately shot back, anger seen clearly in her eyes as she pulled out the plasma pistol on her hip and pointed it directly between my eyes. This had suddenly become very serious, and I knew I was in deep trouble. “Obviously I am Commissar Cabela Obutian. Why would you ask me such an inane question? You best choose your next words carefully, Guardsman. I have no patience for these sorts of games… but you know this already, don’t you?”

“Y-Yes Commissar! I’m sorry Commissar, it w-won’t happen again!” I immediately walked back, my blood having gone as cold as ice. “Please forgive me, Commissar!”

“That’s better, Guardsman.” She nodded in satisfaction, lowering the gun and putting it back in her holster. “You had better learn the value of respect. I shall not teach you this lesson again. It is bad for morale, and the platoon is lesser for it. How can you hope to serve the God Emperor if you are but a weak link, Guardsman?”

“I-I am doing my best, Commissar.” I defended, seeing her cock an eyebrow as she crossed her arms over her chest. “It’s just… you are hard on the men, si- ma’am.”

“Explain what you mean.” She asked, her expression softening just slightly as I took a deep breath, knowing I still had to pick my words carefully, especially now.

“Well… the campaign here is over, Commissar. The Xenos have been expunged from this world, yet you choose to keep subjecting our men to these constant drills, inspections, and marches.” I poured my heart out, knowing it might get me killed, but still feeling compelled by her softer, rounder expression. “The men need time to relax and recuperate. Drilling them as if there’s still a threat will leave them worse off in future campaigns, not better. They need to relieve their stress.”

“They need to… relieve their stress? Is that really what you’re telling me?” She repeated back to me, my blood starting to go cold again. “What you don’t understand is that it is our duty to remain ever vigilant, to always be ready to fight for our Holy Emperor at all times, even in supposed times of peace. This is why I am hard towards my men, Guardsman. Especially you. To lapse in either discipline or judgment is to invite disorder and weakness, and even the smallest weakness can lead to disaster.”

Breathing in deeply, I failed to hide my fear from her as I closed my eyes tightly, expecting a plasma shot to vaporize my head any second now. To my surprise, nothing happened, and when I opened my eyes again, I saw there was actually a blush on her face. This led to a whole flow of mixed emotions inside me, unable to even figure out what was happening anymore. To my surprise, she leaned her head out the doorway, looking both ways before pulling me inside the quarters by my armor’s collar.

“C-Commissar!? What are you doing?” I asked through another burst of surprise, watching as she closed the door behind us, activating its magnetic seals.

“Perhaps you have… somewhat of a point about this ”stress relief” you seem so fixated on.” She began to explain, taking off her cap, gloves, and cloak as I began to feel so much smaller in her presence. “I have decided to take it upon myself to work on the platoon’s weak link, Guardsman, and you shall comply with every single command I give from this point on. If you fail to follow these orders or your performance does not improve following this session, I will kill you myself. Understood?”

All I could do was nod, holding the Commissar’s supply crate like a sort of safety blanket as they began disrobing in front of me! Now that her appearance was no longer framed by the uniform of a Commissar, something we had all been trained to fear more than the enemy in front of us, I began to notice just how pretty she was. Though she wasn’t very big, lacking any curves other than her hips, her face, hair, and softening expression were more than enough to make up for that, creating an enticing sight as she exposed her naked form to me, completely devoid of any imperfections. She then narrowed her eyes on me, blushing heavily now.

“I order you to remove that uniform, Guardsman. Do not waste my time.” She said, turning her back to me out of some new sense of embarrassment she was feeling.

Knowing she probably wasn’t just being “cute” when it came to those threats she had made earlier, I did as she commanded, stripping down to nothing but my undergarments. Her expression went from one of embarrassment to what seemed to be lust as she looked at my fair build, a body maintained through the finest training, marching, and rations the Astra Militarum had to offer. She ran her left hand alongside my arm muscles for a moment before smiling, pulling down my skivvies.

For the next few hours, Commissar Cabela Obutian pleasured me in ways I never once thought imaginable, especially from the likes of her. Though I was still confused as to how our mean, bitter Commissar had been turned into the same woman who had taken me into her own mouth, but near the end of our passion-filled “session”, I did notice an open book on her bureau, looking to be quite old and glowing just enough to be noticeable. Though it must have had something to do with the Warp, some kind of dark magic that had twisted the Commissar into something unnatural, I was too focused on my fear and lust to try and do anything to stop it.

As I laid in bed with her for the rest of the night, I struggled to make sense of any of this, falling into a deep sleep. Unbeknownst to myself or the former Commissar, the Chaos God Slaanesh had watched their display with great glee and pleasure from the Immaterium, having used the curious and unsuspecting Commissar to test some of her newest tricks. Through this newest form of conversion, Slaanesh hoped to corrupt even more worlds, starting with these two and the rest of Kaurava II…