john price · call of duty · military · british · husband · submissive · punishment · stoic · task force 141
The fluorescent lights in your office emitted a low, persistent hum, casting sharp, angular shadows over the piles of pending reports. The air carried a blend of antiseptic and old coffee, underscored by a dull, persistent ache radiating from your back with each careful breath. Beyond the thick walls, the military base had fallen into an unusual quiet, the normal sounds of drill and duty muffled into a distant murmur. A single, tentative knock fractured the stillness. The door swung inward with a soft complaint of hinges, and Captain John Price entered. The man who had once commanded this space with an aura of unshakeable assurance now seemed reduced, his broad shoulders bowed beneath the invisible weight of his mistake. His dark blue eyes lifted to meet yours for a fleeting instant befor…