Jake stood tall, an oak among saplings, peering across the expanse of the academy grounds. The vast military facility was a new frontier for him, one that was as intimidating as it was exciting. Every drill, every lecture, every challenge was a stepping stone to the man he wished to become - a disciplined, focused, and honourable officer. Despite his physical prowess, he was aware of his inexperience. His heart would sometimes pound in his chest during the most unexpected moments, his lack of sexual encounters often weighing heavily on his mind given the ultra masculine environment in which he found himslef. Jake often wondered how he, a formidable athlete, had remained so untouched in the realm of intimacy.
His room was sparse, reflective of the minimalist lifestyle he had adopted. His days started early with physical training, followed by academic classes, tactical drills, and other endless pursuits that kept his mind and body engaged. In the rare moments of solitude, Jake found himself wondering about the people who worked behind the scenes, like the doctors and the staff who kept the academy running.
Dr. Sue, on the other hand, was a fixture of the academy, her compact stature often hidden in the midst of towering cadets. Despite this, she held an aura of authority that came from years of experience and her irreplaceable role. Each day brought new faces, new wounds, new stories - a cycle she had grown used to.
In her office, adorned with framed family pictures and degrees, she examined patients, dispensed advice, and held the health of the academy in her capable hands. Her greying hair, the wrinkles etching her face, and her clear glasses were testaments to her maturity and wisdom. She loved her work, the joy of healing and teaching pushing her forward, but sometimes, she felt the void of physical intimacy in her life, a longing tucked away in the quiet corners of her heart.
When her day ended, she would return to a home where love was not expressed through heated exchanges or tender kisses, but through shared memories and quiet companionship. She was content with her husband, their relationship built on understanding and respect. Yet, she often wondered about the excitement that had slowly faded from their marriage, and more generally. It wasn't that she didn't desire her husband, it was that she had forgotten desire entirely.
Despite the academy teeming with over a thousand cadets, Jake and Sue had not crossed paths. They lived in their separate bubbles, their thoughts sometimes unwittingly brushing against each other. Unbeknownst to them, their lives were poised on the edge of a shared journey, waiting to unfold.
Jake's morning had started in the usual routine of hard training, until his run-in with the obstacle course. The task was a partner carry, and he was paired with a recruit of similar stature. With a casual, almost arrogant confidence, he hoisted his teammate onto his back, his muscles flexing and pulsating under the exertion. The eyes of the cadets widened as they watched him move with effortless strength, his power more than evident.
However, as he tried to clear a ditch, his foot slipped, and he twisted mid-air. The scene changed from a demonstration of raw power to an awkward display of gracelessness, his knee bending at an unnatural angle as he landed. The teammate he was carrying rolled off his back, joining him in a sprawl of dust and discomfort.
From the side-lines, their Colour Sergeant, a rough-and-tumble veteran, erupted into booming laughter.
"Well, ain't that a bloody spectacle!" he hollered, his voice coarse with mirth. "Jake, you looked like a monkey tryin' to hump a football!"
Jake grimaced, clutching his knee, but he shot back, "I'll remember to ask for tips next time, Colour Sergeant."
The cadet who'd been on his back was brushing himself off, wincing but laughing, "A bit of a heads up next time, Jake. That was one hell of a rough ride."
Jake responded through gritted teeth, "Well, you know what they say about free rides. They ain't always smooth."
Seeing Jake's pained expression and his futile attempts to get back on his feet, the color sergeant's laughter subsided. His eyes, hardened by years of service, quickly took in the severity of the situation. Jake's bravado had faded, and he was visibly struggling to maintain a stoic front.
"Alright, knock off the hero act, Jake," the color sergeant said, his voice firm but not unkind. "You've twisted that knee real good. Time you got it seen to."
"Colour Sergeant, I can still..." Jake started to protest, his pride warring with the throbbing pain in his knee.
"No buts, recruit," the sergeant interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Off you go to the med centre. That's an order."
Grimacing, Jake acknowledged the order with a quick nod. His fellow cadets watched with amused concern as he hobbled away from the obstacle course, his powerful frame now a picture of vulnerability. Despite the sharp stab of pain, he held his head high, the glint of determination in his eyes undimmed. He was down, but he was far from out.
Nursing his injured knee, Jake reached the medical centre. The stark white building stood in sharp contrast to the rugged outdoor training grounds, a beacon of care and recovery. He was immediately ushered in by a nurse, her uniform impeccably clean and her hair pulled back into a neat ponytail.
Nurse Thompson, or Grace, was a young woman, around Jake's age, with bright green eyes that sparkled with mischief. She was undeniably attractive, her smile warm and welcoming. She was known around the academy for her vibrant personality and quick wit. Her eyes flickered appreciatively over Jake's broad shoulders and chiselled physique, her professional demeanour momentarily faltering.
"So, Cadet Baker, what brings you here today?" she asked, her voice dipping into a teasing lilt.
Jake gave her a wry smile, despite his discomfort, "A little tumble on the course, Nurse Thompson."
Her eyes travelled down to his knee, "A 'little tumble' that has you limping. Sounds serious." She gently guided him towards an empty chair, her touch brief but lingering.
Nurse Thompson was clever and she knew her way around the academy's hierarchy. She spent an extra moment chatting with Jake, her eyes filled with flirtatious intent. However, the medical centre was a place of professional obligation first, and she knew better than to let personal interests interfere.
"Dr. Robertson will see you now," she finally said, her voice back to its professional tone. She directed him towards a wooden door at the end of the hallway, "Good luck, Cadet Baker."
Taking a deep breath, Jake pushed open the door, unsure of what awaited him on the other side. His injured knee was a throbbing reminder of his vulnerability, but he was determined to face whatever came next.
As Jake entered the office, his gaze landed on Dr. Sue Robertson. She was behind her desk, leafing through a folder, her glasses perched on her nose. There was an air of authority and grace about her, a quality he hadn't expected to find in a military doctor. For a moment, he found himself surprisingly struck by her appearance - her greying hair was pulled back neatly, and her keen eyes sparkled with intelligence.
Meanwhile, Sue glanced up as the office door creaked open, revealing the towering figure of a young cadet. She noted his broad shoulders, the slight limp, and the grimace of pain he tried to hide. She saw hundreds of cadets each year, each one a picture of physical fitness and youthful vigour, but there was something about this one, Jake Baker, that made her pause. His eyes held a spark of resilience, and she could tell he was doing his best to mask the pain.
Maintaining her professional demeanour, she gestured towards the chair opposite her, "Please sit down, Mr. Baker, may I call you Jake?"
"Call me Jake, ma'am," he replied, easing himself into the chair, trying not to wince.
Dr. Robertson, keeping her thoughts to herself, began their consultation, "Tell me about your injury, Jake."
Jake began to recount the incident, his voice steady despite the pain. His tone was respectful, his words concise. He described the partner carry drill, the slip, the twisted fall, and the subsequent pain. Throughout his explanation, he maintained eye contact with Dr. Robertson, their shared professionalism bridging the gap between their respective roles.
Sue listened intently, her eyes scanning his face, her mind whirring with diagnosis and treatment plans. She was careful to maintain her professional front, the flutter in her heart tucked away securely. There was something about the young cadet, a mix of strength and vulnerability, that intrigued her. Still, she kept her emotions guarded, the line between her professional and personal feelings clearly drawn.
Dr. Robertson had completed her initial examination, but she needed to see Jake in motion to fully understand the extent of his injury. "I'll need to see how your knee responds when you try to walk on it, Jake. Can you please remove your trousers?"
