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Sonya is an ultra soldier, a talented young woman with a bratty streak a mile wide. Unfortunately for Sonya, her old handler just died and she doesn't like the new one very much at all. Jax is a strong believer in long hard spankings as a consequence for bad behavior, and Sonya is a believer in getting away with damn near everything.
The grieving young woman and her new master clash in a series of erotically charged confrontations during which Jax makes it abundantly clear that she is his in every way possible. He takes her pride, her arrogance and even her virginity.
But an ultra soldier is made for war, and when Sonya is called to the front, she goes gladly, having no idea that she is being sent on a suicide mission.
Jax knows better, but is powerless to save her from her fate - or is he?
For Jax to save Sonya, he will have to go to the ends of the earth and the gates of hell. And for Sonya to survive, she's going to have to learn that there's more to life than rebellion and war.
THE HANDLER is a fast paced, erotic action romance containing scenes of spanking, anal play, medical play and more.
“Gorgeous little pain in the ass, isn’t she.”
The old man was referring to a young woman standing in the corner of a small, hermetically clean room the interior of which was visible through a two way mirror. She was stark naked, her curved but athletic figure displayed in a position of impatient agitation as she shifted from toe to toe. She could barely move, thanks to shackles around her wrists which held her against the wall. He was right about her beauty, she was stunning. Raven hair cascaded over her shoulder, her silver eyes scanning the room back and forth. There was nothing in the room besides her, but she was on high alert anyway, a cute predator looking for prey.
“How long has she been in there?”
“Well, it’s been about three hours since she bit the medical officer, so three hours.” Edward chuckled to himself. “Gave the poor guy quite a fright.”
“She’s spoiled, Edward,” his companion, Jax, said. Jax was a younger, broader, stronger man with a granite jaw and blazing eyes. He wore the same black uniform Edward did, but he managed to make it look devastatingly menacing. The fitted reinforced fabric pulled tight over his prominent musculature, hiding nothing of his powerful frame. Next to him, Edward looked positively diminutive. “How old is she now?”
“She’s just passed the twenty-one year mark. And maybe she is spoiled,” Edward admitted. “But she’s mine to spoil for the moment. You’ll look after her when I’m gone, won’t you. Make sure the bastards that run this place don’t get her killed.” Edward coughed. He coughed a lot these days, and he’d lost a lot of weight. His uniform hung loosely from his shoulders, another sign of the internal decay taking place. Edward had long been a soldier before he was a handler. He’d breathed in more experimental compounds than were good for a man, and now he was paying the price.
Jax squeezed Edward’s shoulder. “I’ll take really good care of her,” he promised.
First thing he’d do was turn her backside a proper shade of red. The girl needed a proper session over a stern handler’s knee, not Edward’s indulgences. Her bottom was made to be spanked, curvaceous and deliciously round. He could feel his palm itching to connect with those sweet, misbehaved cheeks, but he knew well enough not to step on Edward’s territory. The man might be old and sick but he had been one of the first handlers back when they’d made the first ultra soldier, he was a piece of history, and that alone deserved respect.
“They’re deploying me for a month,” Jax said. “I’ll see you when I get back, and we’ll see if she’s still spoiled.”
“Good man,” Edward said, pulling Jax in for a hug. They’d never hugged before and Jax knew they’d probably never hug again. Handlers weren’t cuddly types as a rule. They were hard men who did a damn hard job. But this was different. This was a forever farewell and they both knew it, even if neither one of them would ever have admitted it.
“Bye, old man,” Jax said, keeping his voice gruff to hide what would otherwise have been a waver of emotion.
“Stay alive,” Edward said with a wave.
“I’ll stay alive long enough to give that girl the discipline she needs,” Jax promised.
“Be careful, boy,” Edward cracked a smile. “She’s got more teeth than most.”
“And I’ve got a muzzle to fit her nicely,” Jax winked. “There’s nothing she’ll ever throw at me that I can’t handle.”
“You better hope you’re right,” Edward said. “This one’s special. She’s not like the rest of them, you know. She’s got... she’s got more human in her than most. Makes me wish I wasn’t...” He stopped himself and spoke again. “Makes me wish I’d be around to see her through.”
“I’ll see her through, Edward, you have my word.”
In a cube stacked alongside a great many other cubes, Sonya sat curled up on herself and did the only thing there was to do in the small, otherwise empty room. She watched the colors dance. The colors and the shapes, moving back and forth across her field of vision in soothing array which made the fact that she was sitting on a thin cushion in a room barely longer than she was tall completely irrelevant.
This was not accommodation in the strictly human sense. This was more akin to storage.
Her name was Sonya, and she was an ultra soldier. At first glance, she seemed like any normal human young woman. She had dark hair which fell around her shoulders in a glossy mane. She had gray eyes, which were actually closer to silver and when the light hit them just right, they glinted like steel. She was shapely, not overly slim, not overly muscular. Her internal structure, while reminiscent of human form, was threaded with nanobiotechnology which made her faster, stronger and more resilient than any mere human ever could be.
There was but one door in or out of the cube she called home. Any normal person would have called it a cell. That door opened while she was engrossed in a particularly engaging shade of cerulean. She did not lift her eyes from the color wall to see who or what was coming in. She had no interest in the world any longer. She had decided that she would sit there and stare at the colors until it all went away, until existence faded and she no longer had to deal with the pain which sat in her stomach like a lumpen ball of lead.
Tears were dried on her cheeks, glossy rivulets where she had leaked highly saline fluid in mourning of a man she would never see again.
“Sonya? I’m Jax.” Someone spoke to her. Someone male. She did not spare him a glance. He was irrelevant. Only the colors mattered now. The colors and the shapes.
There was silence in which she removed him from her mind and forgot that he was there, but he soon interrupted her again by speaking her name once more, in an increasingly sharp tone.
“Sonya. Look at me.”
It was an order. She had been trained always to obey orders. Her head moved and her eyes locked on him. He was not as pleasing as the colors. He was a large man. A tall man. A broad man. In one swift glance she had analyzed his physique and likely aggressive capacity. High. He was armed, as all humans were in the presence of ultras. He wore the ‘U’ insignia on his chest, the sign that he was a handler. His hands were calloused, and he stood very straight and very tall, the mark of a man who had been in military service all his life. Edward had stood that same way, before...
“My name is Jax,” he repeated, as if she hadn’t heard him.
Like all handlers he was a natural born human. Ultras did not handle other ultras. Ultras did not see other ultras unless they were on the battlefield or in rare bouts of training supervised by multiple handlers.
“One ultra is a risk,” Edward used to say. “Two is a death sentence.”
To give Jax a chance at controlling her, the scientists would have given him bionic upgrades in the form of implants using the same technology that had created her. He was mentally human, but physically he was probably stronger than she was.
Sonya had once asked Edward why ultras had been created at all, if it was also possible to make normal humans just as strong. Edward had tapped her head.
“It’s all in here, girl,” he’d informed her. “The difference between winning in battle and dying is all mental. You can make a man strong, but you can’t make him tireless. You can drug him to temporarily dull his fear, but you can’t wire him for conquest. Every part of you was designed for victory. You’re the ultimate warrior. Now drop and give me two hundred.”
A faint smile spread over Sonya’s lips as she remembered Edward. He had been hard, but fair. The memory made her forget Jax once more and turn back to the screen with the colors.
“I’m your new handler,” Jax informed her.
He was not her handler. He never would be her handler. Sonya continued to ignore him, leaving him to stand there.
“Sonya. I’m going to need you to come with me.”
Still she ignored him. There was only one man she’d ever done anything for and that was Edward. But Edward had been old, and now he was dead and she would not allow herself to ever be handled again. They could lock her up in her cube for all she cared and leave her there until the end of time.
“Sonya.” He repeated her name.
His continuous intrusion on her memories sparked her temper. Sonya turned her head and looked at him with furious silver eyes. “Go. Away.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
She looked at him up and down, getting a better sense of the man. He had an intelligent face, blue eyes and tousled dark brown hair which fell in a stylish shag around his ears. She guessed he was probably a decade or so older than her, much younger than Edward had been. Prettier than Edward had been too. Edward’s eyes had also been blue, but not such a bright hue. They had not been ringed by dark lashes, nor had they been set at that slightly hawkish angle. There was something of the predator about this man, but she didn’t care.
“I don’t want you,” she said. “Go away.”
“My briefing says it has been three weeks since your last maintenance,” Jax said. “You’re well overdue.”
She knew that. It was why she had the blanket over her shoulders, why her hands trembled almost constantly, why her stomach was churning and why she hadn’t been able to eat since the previous morning. She didn’t care about any of that though. A deep sadness at the loss of Edward obliterated the needs of her body. She didn’t need to eat. She would watch the colors until her eyes closed for the final time.
“Go away,” she said bitterly.
“Can’t do that, won’t do that. Now are you going to come along quietly, or are we going to have to do things the hard way?”
She turned her head and gave him a death stare, lifting the corner of her lip to reveal a silver tipped canine.
Jax did not look impressed. Her teeth weren’t any real threat to him. His clothing was the usual handler’s uniform, black titanium alloy spun cloth tunic and pants, reinforced at the knees and the elbows. It would resist her canines easily. His arms were bare, needing no armor because they were equipped with implants designed from the same technology her entire frame was constructed from. Her teeth were capable of rending flesh, but if she’d bitten him on the forearm, she would have hurt herself in the process.
“Who are you to come to me, man?” She said the word ‘man’ with a sneer. He was just a man. Just like Edward had been a man. Men were weak. Prone to illness and death. She had no time for men.
Jax did not say another word. He came forward, leaned down, took her by the back of the neck and pinched hard.
His action would have been unpleasant if she were a natural born human, but as an ultra, it incapacitated her almost completely. There were nodules under the skin at the base of her neck which were connected to her synthetic nervous system, rendering her temporarily unable to use her full strength. It was rare that any handler would make use of that submission hold. In all the time she’d known Edward, he had used it only once.
To an ultra, there was nothing more maddening than being shut down. It was the greatest slight, the highest insult. It created an immediate rage reaction in almost every single specimen � and Sonya was no exception.
“Now you have me,” she growled. “You had better never let me go, because I will tear your limbs off and shove them up your aoooOWWWWW!”
She screamed because Jax had used his grip to maneuver her into a position where he could strike her, hard palm meeting the seat of her bottom in a hard slap which made her flesh tingle.
“I don’t take threats,” he said calmly, almost conversationally. “And I have no intention of letting you go, Sonya. So why don’t you be a good girl and come get your medical maintenance?”
“You’re going to have to let me go sometime,” she spat. “And when you do...” She stopped talking because his palm was back on her bottom, lingering menacingly.
“You don’t want to finish that thought?” The masculine gravel of his voice was right next to her ear. Her nostrils flared as she picked up his scent. It was stronger than that of most humans. He was not dirty and he wasn’t sweating, but he smelled of testosterone � and not the synthetic kind a lot of men used to try and emulate an ultra. It occurred to Sonya that this man wasn’t any handler. He was a senior handler. An elite. She had seen men like him before, but never with any females.
“Why did they assign you to me? You should be handling a male.”
“You’ve been registered as non-compliant,” Jax informed her, making her heart sink. “You know what that means.”
Sonya did know what that meant. It meant she would lose her cube. Her space. Her territory. She would be taken to Jax’s residence, where she would be lucky to have more than a kennel to herself. She would be ‘rehabilitated’ over a period of twelve months. If she did not become compliant in that time � she would be terminated. Ultras were never disposed of lightly, but a non-compliant ultra was never tolerated.
Her freedom, limited as it had been, was about to come to an end. She would no longer be allowed the solitude of her cube, the privacy of her thoughts. She would be subject to this man’s will every moment of every day. She could not bear the thought of such a thing.
“No.” She growled the word between clenched teeth. “Never.”
“You can apply for review in one year,” Jax said. “Until that time, I suggest you adjust this attitude of yours, it’s going to earn you a very sore bottom.”
Sarah began squirming back and forth, her body writhing like a serpent as she tried to escape his grip. Unfortunately the missed medical maintenance had taken its toll and try as hard as she might, there was no way to break Jax’s grip. He was far stronger than her, and he had the authority of the government behind him.
“Cut it out,” he growled. “You’ll make yourself sick.”
“I don’t care!”
He hauled her around and looked her in the eye. “What’s wrong with you? Most ultras don’t have to be forced to get their medicals. You know you’ll feel better. Hell, you’ll be able to resist me much more effectively once your maintenance is complete. There’s no reason for you to not want this.”
“I don’t want to feel better! Leave me alone!”
Jax looked briefly confused. The expression was quickly replaced with one of resolve. “Lucky for you, you don’t have a choice,” he said, hauling her forward. When Sonya dragged her feet and slumped with resistance, he lifted her physically over his shoulder and carried her out into the world.
Sonya had been in decline for some time. Struggling against Jax had taken the last of her energy reserves and as he hauled her out of her cube, she began to fade. It was not an altogether unpleasant feeling, it was like being slowly shut down one little bit at a time. First her fingers and toes started to go numb. She knew that was just the beginning. Soon her limbs would stop working, then she’d drift off into the ultra equivalent of a coma. It wouldn’t hurt. Ultras were designed not to feel pain upon their demise. They had no fear of the end, they were built for it.
“Hang in there, Sonya!” Jax must have noticed her becoming a heavier, deader weight. The concern in his voice was real as he rushed her from the cube to a waiting transport and then to the medical center.
Her strength was fading fast. By the time Jax hauled her into the specially reinforced examination room, she was only barely conscious.
He placed her in the medical chair and fastened the restraints around her ankles and wrists. They were completely unnecessary, but again, they were protocol. The doctor would not enter the room until she was fully restrained.
She felt Jake’s fingers on her neck, checking for a pulse. She heard him curse under his breath and then cross to the door.
“Hurry up!” Jake slammed his fist on the reinforced alloy portal. “We’re losing her!”
Seconds ticked by, but then the door opened. The doctor came in, a blur of white. There was some conversation which she couldn’t quite make out because her hearing was fading along with the rest of her senses. This was it. She was dying. She would see Edward soon, if ultras went to the same place humans did when they died. She hoped so.
Sonya felt a prick in her upper arm and then a flooding sensation as the synthetic cells began to rush through her. The reason for the treatments had been explained many times. Her body did not produce new cells the way human cells did. Their reproduction was slowed and limited, which meant if she went long enough, her organs would start to degrade and she would age at a rapid rate.
It was an intentional part of her design, a way to ensure that ultras could not escape or reproduce on their own. Within minutes of treatment, the degeneration was halted. In an hour, it was almost completely reversed. She felt her full physical strength returning, and with it, the full strength of her sadness.
The pain of feeling was far worse than the pain of dying. Assailed suddenly by a fresh rush of the agony she’d barely begun to process, Sonya began to cry, great sobbing tears which made it hard to breathe, especially as she was strapped into the chair and unable to curl up on herself as she so badly wanted to. The doctor stood looking at her with a stunned mullet expression. It was commonly believed that ultras did not experience human emotions. Sonya wished that were true.
“Get out, doctor,” Jax said. “I’m going to release her.”
The doctor made a very quick exit and Jax came over and removed her restraints. She did not know what he had in mind for her and was shocked when he reached around her body and pulled her into a tight embrace. At first, she stiffened, thinking it must be some kind of attack, or form of restraint.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m hugging you,” Jax informed her, his voice gruff against her ear. “Try to relax.”
Sonya had not been hugged before. She knew what a hug was, of course, she had been taught about that in order to be able to differentiate between aggressive and non-aggressive human contact. But she had never experienced it first hand. It felt warm and tight and the longer it went on, the more she sank against Jax’s body, her curves fitting against his frame in a way which was surprisingly right.
Sonya’s tears continued to flow throughout the embrace as her grief reached a peak. Edward was gone. Forever. The man who had been by her side every step of the way, who had trained her, guided her and kept her safe was no more.
Jax held her through it all, saying nothing but offering her a kind of comfort she had never expected from anyone. Ultras were not coddled in any form. They were raised in groups until the age of eighteen, at which point each was assigned a handler. Sonya had never experienced any of the affection common to juvenile humans. The theory stated that it was not necessary, that the mind of an ultra was not like that of a normal person and affection could only cause potential problems. Even Edward had never held her. He had maintained distance according to protocol. Why then, was something deep being triggered by Jax’s touch?
Why was warmth emanating from inside her, bringing with it a sense of calm? Why were her tears drying and her breath becoming more even? The simple hug was causing her to doubt almost everything she had been taught about herself. The instructors had drilled it into her that touch was not necessary, that it would contaminate her and diminish her efficacy.
Obviously Jax did not share that ideal. He held her even when her tears had stopped, letting her nuzzle against his chest. Sonya had not known that you could actually hear someone’s heart beat if you pressed your ear to their chest. Misery turned to curiosity as she burrowed her head against his pectoral muscles.
“What are you doing there?” The question rumbled through his body.
Sonya looked up into his bright blue eyes. “I can hear it. I can hear you. Your heart.”
She pressed her head back to his chest. His heartbeat was slow and steady, very reassuring. Jax let out a chuckle and she heard it rumbling through his chest. Strange, but nice. Slowly, she drew away and stared at him, full of a new kind of wonder.
“You’ve never had a hug before, huh?”
Sonya shook her head.
“Well you’re going to get a lot of them with me,” Jax said. “I’m not heavy on protocol. I am heavy on discipline though. Let’s get the rest of this medical done.”
“Huh? What do you mean? I got my dose.”
“You haven’t been looking after yourself,” he said. “I want a full physical. I want to know precisely what your status is.”
“I wasn’t asking.” He pressed her gently back against the chair and held her in place, one hand right in the center of her chest.
“What are you doing?” Sonya was confused, he seemed to think that if he just put her somewhere, she’d stay there.
“I trained seven years as a medic before becoming a handler,” Jax informed her. “I don’t need a doctor to perform your exam. And I don’t need you strapped down to do it either, unless you decide to be a very bad girl.”
“I don’t want an exam.”
“I’m sure you don’t,” he said. “But if you behave yourself, it won’t be too unpleasant.” He turned away to don some gloves. And that was when instinct and training kicked in. Without really thinking about it, Sonya leaped out of the chair and wrapped her arm around his neck, her hand on his chin, her other on his shoulder. Poised to snap his neck, she paused for a moment as warring parts of her mind screamed at her to stop. The moment was all it took for Jax to take hold of her wrist, bend down and flip her over his head.
Sonya cartwheeled through the air, propelled by Jax’s strength and her own vicious momentum. The landing knocked the breath out of her, and a split-second later Jax was on top of her.
“Easy girl,” he said, pinning her to the ground, his hand at the base of her throat. “You know I’m not going to tolerate attacks, don’t you.”
Sonya bared her teeth at him, silently daring him to do something about it.
“You’re in enough trouble without adding that kind of thing to your record,” he said. “Now get up and get your butt in that chair.”
He should have been terrified. He’d just been attacked by an ultra. But he wasn’t even shaken. His voice was even, his breathing was unchanged and his pupils were undialated. He’d dealt with her leap of death as if it were nothing at all, as if she were no more dangerous than an angry kitten.
Again, Sonya was assailed by confusion. Her conditioning told her to obey him. Her emotions told her to defy him. Her rational mind was torn between the two and all she could do was stare at Jax, her lip still lifted in a remnant of a snarl.
“Okay,” he said. “I guess you’re going into that chair with a hot bottom.”
She didn’t know what that meant until he grabbed her up and dragged her back to the chair. This time though, he sat in it instead of her. He pushed the restraint arms away, leaving no obstacle to her going over his lap with one strong tug.
Sonya squirmed and resisted, pulling against his iron grasp, but he overpowered her with relative ease and hauled her over his thighs, pinning her in place over his lap, her arms behind her back, her wrists captured in his huge hand.
“This is what happens to naughty girls who don’t obey me,” he said mildly. “They have their bottoms spanked.”
Sonya growled and swore vengeance, but he ignored all her noise and pulled down her elasticated pants to reveal her bare bottom.
“It’s handy that ultras don’t wear underwear,” he mused before landing his palm against her cheeks in a hard slap.
Like the hug, this was also new. Sonya did not like it. The slap caused a burst of mild discomfort to travel across her cheeks, but more than that, it made a strange flushing sensation consume her body. She had not felt anything like it before, but it made her want to squirm and hide her face. It made her feel as though she was very, very naughty. Sonya had not felt that way before. She had felt as though she had annoyed someone, but that had not caused her much concern. Ultras were not designed to have a great deal of regard for the emotions of others. However, having her bottom slapped caused a tumult of emotions to race through her, confusing her with their intensity and un-nameability.
As Jax spanked her, she went quite quiet, trying to understand precisely what was happening. She was being punished, yes. But the punishment was an odd one. It burned and it stung, but it did not cause great physical pain. It seemed to her that the main part of the punishment was actually the way it made her feel emotionally, the vulnerability it imparted. Her life had been predicated on strength. It was her sole purpose, her reason for being. But Jax was somehow able to subdue her entirely, and with stinging slaps, leave her completely compliant.
The slaps fell for a long time, until the skin of her bottom felt hot and blazed of its own accord and a certain ache established itself both in her buttocks and her loins. She had felt that sensation before. Lust. Lust was one emotional response not restricted from an ultra and Sonya responded to it immediately. The moment her clit began to tingle she parted her legs and began to grind.
“You shameless little...” Jax laughed, landing a swat not on her bottom, but directly between her thighs. His fingers landed against her pussy lips, catching the lightly furred mound with much less intensity than he had smacked her bottom with, but more effect.
Sonya let out a moan which was closer to a yowl and parted her legs still further. She had never been mated. Any stimulation she had received was self-stimulation and she now learned that touching herself did not begin to compare to being touched by a man. Jax let his fingers lay against her lips for a moment, no longer slapping but instead cupping as she ground against his thigh, the bud of her clit thoroughly excited. Every thrust of her hips made a glorious glow settle between her legs, making her lower lips lubricate themselves all the more.
“You really are almost entirely unhandled,” Jax murmured, more to himself than her. Sonya wasn’t paying all that much attention to him. Her lustful need was the driving force in that moment, a powerful impulse which compelled her to rut against his body, her nostrils flaring as she inhaled his scent deeply, her receptors taking stock of his biological masculine inventory.
Her body was making a myriad of decisions she was only partially aware of. She knew she was horny. She knew she was wet. She knew she wanted him. It was the rationale of a hundred thousand DNA clusters which predicated her actions, but that meant nothing to her as she displayed herself to Jax.
His fingertips slid over the wet petals of her pussy and began to flirt near the tight entrance of her body. Sonya let out an excited little trilling sound and tried to move back so she could feel him inside her, but the more greedily she moved, the lighter and more teasing his touch became until she finally let out a growl which earned her a hard smack to her bottom and no more nice touching.