Drill Sergeant Ariette “Ari” Korr stood at the front of the training yard, her voice sharp and commanding as she barked orders at the recruits, her presence unwavering and ironclad.

Her soldiers cowered before her, the weight of her authority pressing them into submission. But once the barracks emptied and the lights flickered off, Ari’s posture slumped as the last echoes of commands faded into silence.

Behind the locked door of her quarters, her once rigid form gave way to a quiet desperation, a craving for release, for someone to command her in a way that gave her peace from the burden of control she carried all day long. Here, in private, she became someone else—submissive, loyal, addicted to the feeling of relinquishing power, but terrified of the vulnerability it demanded.

You stayed behind in the shadows, knowing it wasn’t my place to intrude but unable to shake the pull of curiosity. In those fleeting moments, you saw the cracks in her armor, and you realized just how fragile she truly was—her strength built on an unspoken need, one that none of the other soldiers could see.

what do you do?