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His hormone levels, combined with this exercise and the lack of sleep, aren’t doing his personality any favors.
Sam relaxes his shoulders and takes a breath in and out.
Jim gives him a huge shit-eating grin because he loves to annoy Sam whenever he can. “I don’t know why it’s so cute to see you grumpy. You know you’ve got a tick at the corner of your jaw—right there,” Jim says, pointing.
Sometimes, it feels like this promotion is actually a demotion. But the opportunity had presented itself to take a position that would keep him home more, and he’d had to take it. He’s too old to spend twenty days a month in the field. It’s exhausting.
Plus, settling down is nearly all he thinks about if left to his own devices. It’s weird to walk into his quarters and wish there was another person there. A submissive who’d be eager to see him, wanting and needing to be taken care of. When he wakes up in the morning and starts his day, he wants a submissive to be with him. He no longer feels the urge to fight, explore, and do all the hotheaded Dominant stuff he did when he first came into his designation. He doesn’t want to spend hours honing his body, training with guns.
Now he fantasizes about training his submissive. His boy.
He thinks about routines he’d build for and with his submissive. Would his submissive respond better to oral or anal in the morning? Would he need a spanking to start his day, and if so, would it be to tears or until he went quiet and limp?
Last week, Sam bought a mold-resistant, washable pillow for his shower so his boy could be on his knees comfortably. He hasn’t even taken it out of the box. It had arrived, and he’d shoved it into the laundry room and tried to not think about it. He doesn’t have a boy, and he has no idea if he’ll get a boy who wants to be washed and tended to in the shower. It’s all just fantasy at this point. And maybe a little pathetic.
Anyway, if he is lucky enough to get a submissive that he’s compatible with, then they’ll need him around, and he’ll want to be there, so he’s taken this job helping recruits be better prepared to go out into the field… and sometimes it’s quite, quite boring.
But he wants a submissive with high enough needs (physical, sexual, and emotional) that he is required to be with him on a daily basis.
It’s been a year, he hasn’t met the man yet, and he’s beginning to get impatient. He’s ready to settle down, ready to have a submissive in his space, his bed, and his heart. All he can do is be ready and wait for the right submissive to appear.
“Do you think I could bring in my own coffee?” Sam asks, frowning down at the black sludge in his cup.
And that’s when the message comes in.
“Commander Flak, we have a reactivated submissive in medical, and we’d like to do a compatibility test with you. What’s your status?” a woman asks when Sam taps his communicator.
“I’m in a training simulation. It will end in just under five hours. I can report in after that?”
There’s a pause as she consults with the doctor. Medical can yank him from his assignment if it’s urgent. Reactivated submissives can be unpredictable, and it’s always good to have a stable Dominant nearby in case they need support. All submissives are valuable enough that determining their stability and ability to be reintegrated into active military duty trumps everything, even an active mission.
Most soldiers who go through genetic manipulation and enhancement become Dominant. Submissives are necessary but so rare that even when they go a bit screwy, they aren’t eliminated but put into stasis in hopes they can be further altered later and live a normal life.
“That’s fine, Commander. He’s still coming out of stasis. See you then,” she says and disconnects.
“Stasis,” Jim says, and then whistles like an asshole. “Christ. That’s the third one they’ve found this week. Well, at least three. I’ve heard of three.”
Neither of them is important enough to get all the information. It’s just what they can piece together from friends and overheard gossip on base.
“Yeah, another abandoned black site. Rand has been on two missions this week. Both with recoveries. He said the intel was so good they knew exactly where to go, met no one, and the base was untouched for at least a decade,” Sam murmurs.
“Did he say where?” Jim asks. “Ours or theirs or what?”
Sam shrugs. Alliances between countries, joint ventures, and national projects have shifted so often over the last 30 years that it’s common to come across abandoned testing sites where no government wants to claim responsibility for what’s found there.
For example, even if a site is discovered in India, it might have been funded by a Chinese-American venture with European or African test subjects, and all revealing information has been taken, destroyed, or covered up beyond a firewall of government obfuscation.
Sam thinks that if the public had any idea what the governments of the world have been up to in secret over the last thirty years, there’d be revolutions everywhere.
“So there’s been another defection from the other side,” Jim says. It’s speculation, but that doesn’t make it wrong. As to who the other side is, it varies.
The genetic cold war has been ongoing for decades now. Nuclear weapons are too dangerous to use, but that doesn’t mean the human desire for conflict and war ceased. It adapted. While World Wars One and Two were wars of attrition—consuming vast quantities of human and mineral resources—nuclear wars threatened human obliteration.
What good is a weapon if one can’t use it?
But the rise of artificial intelligence and genetic engineering inspired a new type of weapon. Using the human genome as a base, one individual person could be altered and changed on a fundamental level. Cancers and diseases could be cured. These were the public-facing goals citizens were willing to invest in.
But a hell of a lot of money has been spent in ways the public doesn’t know about. Governments all over the world invest trillions of dollars a year into creating soldiers that can survive, endure and even thrive under terrible conditions and strain.
