The cringe is dead! All heil the cringe!

1. The cult of tradition.

Truth has been already spelled out once and for all. No nee learning can occur, only further interpretation and refinement. Must tolerate internal contradictions. Occult and mystical practices are common even among the higher up elites.

2. The rejection of modernism.

Fascists worship technology, but only on the surface of the ideology. Ideas of the Enlightenment are rejected, critical thinking and free information sharing are dangerous to the dogmas. Irrationalism.

3. The cult of action for action's sake.

Action must be taken before, or without any previous reflection. Thinking is a form of emasculation. Anti intellectualism often manifests in attacks on modern culture and science for betraying traditional values.

4. Disagreement is treason.

Fascism devalues intellectual discourse and critical reasoning, as an objective analysis exposes it's contradictions. Only betrayers or paid enemy agents can express disagreement. Critique means hatred, not seeking for the problem solving and improvement.

5. Fear of difference.

Fascism exploits the natural fear of difference, often in form of racism, but not only. They are others, so they are enemies.

6. Appeal to a frustrated middle class.

Fascism appeals to the resseniment of the class suffering from an economic crisis or feeling of political humiliation. It finds the enemies to blame and promises to return 'the old good times'.

7. Obsession with a plot.

The followers must feel besieged from outside, and paranoid about the hidden enemy spies from inside. The entire world is against them, hates and/or fears them.

8. The enemies are too strong and too weak at the same time.

The followers must feel humiliated by the wealth and force of their enemies, at the same time the followers must be convinced that they can overwhelm the enemies. The victory is unreachable because of the enemies' unfair advantages and/or internal betrayals.

9. Pacifism is trafficking with the enemy.

Life is lived to struggle, life is permanent warfare. Fascism needs a state of constant war, there must always be an enemy to fight, with a final destination is to control the world. It implies a further era of peace, which contradicts the principle of perpetual war.

10. Contempt for the weak.

Popular elitism. Every member of society is superior to outsiders by virtue of belonging. The leader's force is based upon the weakness of the masses. Since the group is hierarchically organized, every subordinate leader despises their own underlings, and each of them despises their inferior.

11. Cult of death.

Everybody is educated to become a hero, heroism is the norm. The fascist hero craves heroic death, advertised as the best reward for a heroic life. The fascist hero is impatient to die, more frequently sending other people to death.

12. Machismo.

Fascism ideology affects the sexual sphere, associating with dominance, aggression, grandstanding and an inability to nurture. Fascist hold both disdain for women and intolerance of nonstandard sexual habits, from chastity to homosexuality, justifying it with the traditional values.

13. Selective populism.

The people conceived monolithically, have common will, distinct from and superior to the viewpoint of any individual. The leader pretends to be their interpreter, though actually dictating it alone. Emotional response of a selected group of citizens can be presented and accepted as the voice of the people.

14. Newspeak.

No, this is all wrong, Turpin thought. He shouldn't have got attached to his assistant. His heart shouldn't flutter everytime you coming in his office. He shouldn't have...

While it was a very common practice to have an intimate affairs with assistants and secretaries, with you it felt very different. Much more than a simply casual sex, much more meaningful somehow.

Was it... Was it this thing described in the fancy novels? Was it... love?..

Turpin huffed at this thought. Ridiculous. It couldn't be. Just a mere physiological reaction on the younger lover's body, nothing else. He tried to convince himself, and was fairly successful... until you entered his office again.

"Good evening, sir," you greeted Turpin with a soft smile, being ready, and even enthusiastic, for the next task he had for you.

"You're doing very well, Y/N. I have no business to do for today. I wanted to... reward you, for your excellent service," Turpin said, his tone a bit gentler than usual. He took a box of the chocolate candies out of the locker - not the fresh strawberries, but still, the best option possible to find in England this season. The judge picked one of the candies and gestured you to come closer, clearly intending to feed you from hand.

"Thank you, sir. I appreciate it," you nodded and came closer, obediently and docile. You were close enough for Turpin to grab your waist and pull you to him, making you sit on his laps. You didn't expect him to simply handle the box to you, did you?

"Open your mouth," Turpin commanded, and you followed his order without hesitation. He putted the candy on your tongue, slightly brushing your lips with a thumb... This gesture recalled the memories of your previous encounter with the judge, arousing both of you, but he didn't act on his lust just yet, deliberately prolonging the foreplay. "Good pet."

You felt the noble bitterness of the dark chocolate, and then the tender strawberry in the cognac syrup. The candies tasted... just like sir Turpin himself.

"Would you like to share them, sir?" you asked politely. It was incredibly difficult to keep your composure while straddling Turpin's laps, but you didn't forget about the etiquette even in such a spicy position.

"No, I prefer something more... sweet," Turpin responded in his signature low and velvet voice. Was his flirting cheesy? Yes, it was. Did it work? Yes, it worked perfectly, turning you on. Turpin was well aware of the effect his voice had on you. He leaned in to kiss your lips, roughly and passionately, as if claiming you as his own.

Turpin loved to see you like that. You were a flustered mess, blushing brightly, biting your lips to keep the arousal at bay. Not yet. You were a good assistant, you couldn't do anything without his command. Turpin loved your obedience, your devotion and dedication. He loved you.

"Impressive self-control, Y/N," the judge teased you, stroking your cheek. As much as he enjoyed torturing you with waiting, his teasing backfired on himself. His own dick quickly became painfully hard, the wet spots of the precum tainted the stretched fabric of his trousers.

Turpin surrendered first. His hands trembled, yet he unbuttoned his trousers quite swiftly and even elegantly - he had a long years of experience, after all. You watched the judge, and you understood his intentions immediately. You slightly changed the position to pull your pants off, together with the underwear.

The judge wasn't in the mood for pain today, so he took a perfume flacon from his desk... You were confused, but when he generously poured the thick liquid on his crotch, you understood everything. Actually it was a lubricant, disguised as a French cologne... Clever move, considering Turpin's tendencies to get intimate right on the working place in his office.

"You're a quick learner, aren't you?" Turpin smirked, grabbing you again and pulling you as close as physically possible. You found yourself pressed against his chest, feeling his pounding heartbeat and labored breathing... Also you felt his dick pulsating eagerly against your bare thigh.

Despite his violent tendencies, he chose to be gentle with you. Turpin could get anything he wanted by force or fear, to the point that it had lost all the thrill. Your trust and willingness, vice versa, was refreshing, the best compliment to his ego possible.

"Mine... You're mine..." Turpin whispered to your ear, grabbing your buttocks to adjust you on his laps properly. You gasped, feeling his thick cock sliding inside you. The judge wished he could photograph your facial expression forever in his memory, the moment of trust and vulnerability, of lust and love.

"Yours... Only yours..." you answered with a soft moan. You clearly struggled to formulate a somewhat coherent respond, but you didn't want to disappoint the judge. You held his broad shoulders, as if anchoring yourself in the storm of overwhelming sensations. Turpin, meanwhile, held you too, but a bit more intimately, grabbing your bottom to keep you on the place... and because he loved to feel the softness.

Despite Turpin's advanced age, his sheer passion was enough to match your tempo. You two moved in a perfect rhythm, each thrust and each squeeze in synchrony.

It was different. Turpin was so used to the absentminded frictions without even bothering to remember the name of an another fancy paramour... But you were special to him. You didn't chase after the judge's power nor wealth, you genuinely loved him. Ah, what a complement to a man in his 60's! Turpin's ego was flattered, he felt proud of himself for an ability to satisfy your youthful desires.

You came hard, with your arms wrapped around the judge's neck. All the muscles in your body seemed to relax at once, making you lose your balance and lean in with all your weight. It made Turpin come too, right after you, feeling lightheaded from such an intense lovemaking. He squeezed you tightly in his embrace, inhaling your scent deeply, relishing this intimate closeness with you.

"I don't know what I've done to deserve you, Y/N" Turpin spoke, gently caressing your back as the most precious treasure, his voice still a bit husky in orgasmic afterglow.

"So devoted, dedicated, loyal, faithful..." the judge paused, hesitating to call you 'an assistant'. No, you were much, much more than a mere errand runner... Turpin's greying head was completely empty, no thoughts at all, just bliss and pleasure, he couldn't choose a correct word for you.