The territory pressure hit at 1100.
I felt it in the sudden flood of encrypted reports lighting up my wristband, in the way the air in the clinic seemed to thicken with tension, and in the way Justin’s trembling body reacted even before I spoke the words aloud.
I had him on his knees again — the now-daily ritual of repeated kneeling — thighs spread wide on the raised medical bed, hands clasped behind his back, c**k heavy and leaking steadily between his legs. His muscles shook with the effort of holding the position under the calculated delay protocol. Sweat rolled down the hard planes of his chest. Every breath was a shallow, labored gift I allowed him.
I stood before him, white coat open, and read the latest intelligence aloud so he could hear exactly what the realm was becoming becau
