The Human Rayce Ch. 01

Full Synopsis:

Pathological dom Rayce Gunner is the heir of humanity's last military hero in a dystopian future under siege by vampires. So when he accepts an invitation to enlist from his army commander brother, he expects to be treated like a goddamn hero! Instead, he is tasked with training the most hardcore soldiers he's ever met into perfect sex slaves for reasons he doesn't quite know. He does, however, know five things: 1. Breaking a soldier is harder (and kinkier) than he thought, 2. In this dungeon, masters can become slaves at any moment, 3. DON'T fall in love with your sexy roommate, 4. Everyone has secrets, and 5. His brother has the biggest, dirtiest one of them all!

Author's Note: The Human Rayce is plot with porn attached! You can expect to find: character dev! Plot twists! Relationship drama! Plenty of smut!

CW: non-con, dubcon, violence

I never thought I'd be one of the red, white and blue boys. I mean you probably would have if you had known my father was once Commander of the Clear Republic Army, and so was his father before him, and his father and his father, and you see where I'm going with this. In fact, you probably would have expected it. See, my brother fell for the expectations of people like you and answered that siren call of the army. But he fell too far and now he's in too deep. It's only a matter of time before he crashes on the rocks and takes the whole damn ship with him.

But I'm not going be in that band playing on while my brother's Titanic goes down - not me - no sirree. Most people call me a rebel (if not an expletive), but I prefer the term 'enlightened'! After all, how does a half-wit, half-trained army of humans from a shrinking republic beat hordes of immortal vampires out for blood? Literally? If you answered: 'uh, they don't', then hey, you can go home because you already know how this ends.

And yet here you still are. And here I am. An austere statue greets me in the front courtyard. Oh, I get it, very inspiring, but it just creeps me out because it's wearing my face. Well, not exactly. It's my father's face, but let's just say the looks run in the family. Behind the statue looms a huge concrete building; it looks more like a prison than a military HQ. It's really the same thing with more exercise, and tougher wardens. That's especially true for me seeing as this is my alternative to prison. Yeah, I went back and forth on it.

Biting down on my toothpick, I grin up at my newest cage. You shut up and play with the cards you're dealt, right? My brother sure dealt me some interesting cards. I hear the clickety-clack! - of the police lieutenant unlocking my handcuffs and I bring my hands around to rub my chafed wrists. I'd say a frequent flier like me should have racked up enough points by now for a first-class version of those cuffs...

"This is your stop, Gunner," the lieutenant says curtly, "But you belong in a hole." His disgust brings a smile to my face.

"I agree. Bend over." He shakes his head at my juvenile comment.

"I'd write you up for that, but you're someone else's problem now - thank God."

"So this is Fade HQ," I muse, "One foot in vampire country, and the other in deep shit."

"V-Vampire country?" The younger, less experienced officer whimpers as he tries to hide behind his shiny new gun.

"You afraid of vampires?" I chuckle.

"Any man with some sense in his head would be..."

"Then what are you so worried about?" It takes him a moment.

Then he frowns. "Hey!"

"That's enough, Gunner." The lieutenant interrupts.

"You don't have jurisdiction here, Lieutenant." He takes a step back as I spit out the toothpick near his feet and narrows his eyes at me. "This isn't your cushy, air-conditioned office at Clear. You're in Fade now, and guess who runs Fade?" He says nothing, but the storm in his eyes darkens. "Gunners. Like yours truly." I grin at him, spreading my arms out wide and turning to show him my kingdom. I plant my hands on my hips and breathe deep. Smoke. Alcohol. Sweat. And... tater tots? My kinda place.

"You know what I'm gonna miss most about prison?" I say with a fond sigh. "The prison sex."

"Doesn't it... Hurt?" The younger officer pipes up. I burst out laughing as I sling an arm around his shoulders.

"Do I look like a bottom bitch to you? You, on the other hand..."

He tenses, eyes wide. "But I'm an officer."

Pulling him in closer, I wink. "Your point being?"

"I-I didn't... I don't...." The poor boy scout stammers; he's obviously never been this up close and personal with an actual prisoner in his life.

"Hey, you want a freebie?" I whisper and jerk my head briefly at the police lieutenant, "If he gives you any trouble, ask him why his tramp stamp says 'Rayce Gunner!'" The bigger guy has his arms folded and a stern expression on. As if he didn't beg for it. The younger officer's freckled face goes very red.

I wave goodbye over my shoulder as I walk towards the army base.

"Thanks for the lift, boys. The next time you hear about this place, it'll be chanting my name... Or up in flames!" My own laughter carries away on a humid breeze.

"Attention!" That order is followed by the sound of a hundred boots stomping to attention at the same time. That sounds really boring. So I'm probably supposed to be there. Sure enough, I find army recruits arranged in a perfect square in the courtyard, in their perfect uniforms, standing perfectly at attention. Wow, I didn't know you could slay vamps with superior posture! Complaints and dirty looks stack up as I plow right through the formation, making a beeline for the front.

The old army general running drills looks astounded to see me. Medals and badges make the front of his uniform look like a display case and his shoulders are studded with stars. Alright, alright, he's a great guy. We got it the first time! His name tag is a lot more humble, proclaiming simply: 'Weiser'.

Under a thick salt and pepper mustache, Weiser's lips twist with mixed feelings. His eyes are piercing blue, which helps them drill into me. "Rayce Gunner?"

"Sir, yessir! Ready to kick some vampire ass!" I give him a big grin and a salute and receive a grimace in return. Not a very fair trade. The other soldiers are much more impressed, staring with wide eyes. Shock and awe: my favorite reaction! I do my best not to grin but, oh wait, I already am. Names carry power out here in Fade. Just how powerful is mine? I feel like we covered that already.

"So why are we training in the middle of the night, anyway?" I ask an obvious question.

"Vampires are active at night," he sighs as if the answer should be just as obvious.

"And?" I press, "Shouldn't we be taking the fight to them during the daytime? You do know they burn in the sunlight, right?"

"Gunner," He looks exasperated. "If you look around very carefully... You'll notice there are no suggestion boxes. I'm going to excuse your being out of uniform because you're new, but that's what you are: the new guy. We don't need you questioning the way we do things around here or talking back to your superiors. Now get back in line."

"New guy? Didn't you hear me? I'm a Gunner; I was born for this. Compared to these chumps I'm a five-star general with my own war shanty." The others seem to have decided what they think of me. And it isn't much. Hey, don't shoot the messenger.

Weiser's thick hedgerow of brow furrows, shaded by the brim of a forest green lieutenant's cap. Then suddenly, the strict line relaxes; he laughs. "As an actual five-star general - and I've heard a couple of shanties going around - it's hard not to take that as a challenge. You know what? I think you should start your military career the way I did. Sparring match."

"Yes." Now we're talking: time to bring the prison riot to this army drill! I bet I could take him. But Weiser just chuckles at my eagerness and scans the recruits.

"Matteo Lorenze, you're up!" He takes his pick. Oh. Alright whoever you are, prepare to go down. I step into the moonlight burning a ring in the dust just for the two of us as I unclip a weapon from my belt: a baton that extends to full length at the flick of my wrist. Swear I'd marry the old girl if she were a person. I spin around to face my opponent, twirling the baton playfully.

"Heeeeere's Gunner!" I laugh, but then I feel the smile slipping from my face as a soldier takes his position across from me without saying a word.

And he didn't need to; his body does the talking. He has an athletic build and light tan skin. The soldier's features are soft except for the intense focus in his deep blue eyes. Wavy hair frames them in solemn raven, but a highlight of red makes me think he has a wild streak that I'm really, really going to like. A beaded feather earring hangs from one ear.

Fucking camouflage pants and trash country music: I have a thing for soldier boy? Oh no, I am not cut out to be some army hubby. This must be how it starts: first the staring forlornly out the window waiting for the war to end, next thing I know, I'm dicking down our not-even-that-cute neighbor during his deployment. Only to hurl myself weeping over a casket wrapped up in stars and stripes while three different news stations push microphones in my face.

The sight of his weapon: a steel staff, snaps me out of that day-mare. I drop into a fighting stance, embarrassed by how easily he cracked my persona. Get it together, Gunner, I warn myself. When the General gives the signal, I switch gears to rush in head-on with my baton at my side. Lorenze weaves out of the way and raises his staff just in time to counter my strike. A tiny smile tweaks his lips as our eyes meet over our weapons.

"Not bad!" I comment. I'm not sure if I'm trying to flirt or intimidate when I wink at him. Why not both?

"Thanks. But I expected more from a Gunner." His voice is a sexy too-cool-for-you; his body is fire, and competitive spirit flushes my veins both hot and cold.

"Trust me, I'm about to give it to you."

I dish out my best moves: left hook, right, twirl, low sweep, upwards flourish, but his staff is there to meet me every time in a charged game of freeze tag, leaving me panting with the effort.

"At least they taught you to stall!" I say between breaths, "That should be useful when the vamps show up!"

"Well unless you plan on boring them to death, I'm not sure you'll be doing much better." Before I can come up with another quip, he swings at my head- I bring up my baton in defense but he feints and sweeps my feet out from under me instead.

"Oof!" I land hard on my back.

"Hey, I think I do know that shanty about you... 'Yankee Doodle', right?" Ha! There's that streak! I roll aside as his staff pounds the dirt. Springing to my feet again, I grin at him.

"You're bringing the heat, Lorenze." I flip the pommel of my baton to expose the red button there and push it. It sparks to life with electricity; arcs leap along the length. "But you're in for a shock." His stunned face is illuminated in crackling blue.

"Alright, that's enough!" Weiser breaks up the fight at last. I freeze with my foot on Lorenze's lean chest, my baton crackling just under his jaw. Lorenze meets my gaze unblinkingly and I'm drowning all over again in blue eyes. His brow furrows minutely as if he can read my mind and all the nasty thoughts bottled up in there. "Gunner wins this round!" Weiser announces to a smattering of begrudgingly impressed applause. That's the other thing that carries power in Fade. Actual power. I remember to get off Lorenze and clip the baton to my belt.

"Thank you, thank you!" Bowing jokingly before I turn around to help my opponent up. See? You can't say I'm a terrible guy. I grip his arm because, at this point, I'm just looking for reasons to touch him. "I'm impressed. You held your ground against a Gunner."

He smiles slightly awkwardly. "Thanks." And just like that, he's gone, returning to his place in the formation. I fall into line, satiated with daydreams of him, which General Weiser rudely interrupts with more orders,

"Alright, back to work. Attention!" That's military for you. A nonstop routine of simple, repetitive motions where you learn jack shit and the counts don't matter. But hey, I get it: the need to feel like we're doing something - anything - of value at the fag end of this endless, hopeless, pointless war. As the already-boring day to fucking day begins, I can't help craning my neck to catch a glimpse of the hot, raven-haired soldier. He's anything but boring.

The other soldiers filter towards the building at the end of the training session. Wanna bet that if I follow them long enough, they'll lead me to food? I worked up a sweat and my stomach growls demandingly, but before I can follow, General Weiser's gravelly voice interrupt, "Gunner. Your brother..." He's having a hard time getting the words out.

"Oh, I love ad-libs! -Is the boss of everything around here, including you," Cocking my head, I ask, "What's it like taking orders from someone half your age? Or are you just used to that by now?" His thick brows knit. Now he says it like I deserve to hear it,

"Your brother wanted me to invite you to a meeting in the General's Lounge at 3 pm." A meeting? Fancy... Well, if I have to be here anyway, I guess it's about time ol' Cissy shared the family glory.

I grin at Weiser. "See you there, then."

"I won't be attending."

"Sick?"

"Actually, I'm not sick." He leaves without further explanation.

###

When I see something I want, I just go for it, even if I think - no - know it's going to end in a hot mess. And there he is now.

"Lorenze!" I find Matteo chatting with a couple of soldiers in the cafeteria. He wears a faded green tank top that exposes his toned arms and baggy camouflage cargos.

He glances at me. "Gunner." And shoves something hastily into his back pocket. He's adorable, but first - I shoot a glare so venomous at the other guys that they beat a hasty retreat. That's what I thought. No one gets too close to Gunner-marked territory. Then I turn a pleasant smile back at him. Lorenze is not oblivious to the exchange, awkwardly tucking a stray section of black hair behind his ear.

"Hey, um... You were pretty great out there." He makes an attempt at conversation.

"Is that you coming on to me?" I pressure him immediately as I give him a once over. He wouldn't last five minutes in prison. Thirty seconds if I was his cellmate.

"I don't want to make things awkward between us, Gunner." Matteo interrupts my tour by folding his arms over his chest with the body language of someone who's had to reject plenty of advances before. Suddenly, I'm overprotective of something I don't own and jealous of people I've never met. "We are roommates after all," he goes on. We're cellmates - I mean, roommates? Dreams do come true!

"Why didn't you say so? Lead the way." I try not to look too excited. As he turns around, my gaze drifts further south than he'd probably approve of.

Lorenze and I stroll through the chrome hallway together.

"So, you really are Commander Gunner's little brother?" he asks at last. I nod, the corner of my mouth tugging involuntarily downward.

"Yep. Big bro Cisco. He practically drafted me."

"You didn't enlist?" Lorenze looks at me in surprise.

"Nope... All they told me was that there'd be babes. Turns out they were military babes." Turns out it was you. "Family, ammirite? At least he knows how to get my attention!" It gets a laugh out of him.

"Your brother is a prodigy. Without him, we would have lost the war years ago."

"He didn't look very prodigious in his froggie pajamas." Lorenze laughs again, but I just clear my throat a bit. If my brother is really that great, how come we haven't won the war? This isn't fighting. It's stalling. "And call me Rayce. It's weird hearing my last name that much."

"Okay, Rayce." He tests the name and giggles slightly, finally warming up to me. "You can call me Matteo." He stops, holding his hand out for a shake. I take it, but I want way more... "Matteo Lorenze, at your service." Yes, please.

Matteo swipes his keycard to unlock the door to our room. Wow, do all the rooms look like this or are they just trying to make me feel at home? It definitely looks like the designer's inspiration was prison, anyway. The room is as monochromatic as possible. There are two plain gray beds: one against each wall and a wide, tinted window on the far wall. Hey, it's not the ritz, but it'll do. When you have as much experience as I do, you can make the best of sub-optimal equipment! Matteo doesn't notice the sound of the door locking softly behind us.

"-haven't had a new roommate in months-" I only catch a fragment of his rambling, a little stunned by the whole of his cute ass. Those pants don't do it justice, so maybe they should come off.

Before I can even think this through (not that I was planning to!), I seize him from behind. Matteo cuts himself off with a small scream as I explore his body at a leisurely pace. A hand travels up under his shirt, across muscles just developed enough to give him his taut appearance without ruining his lithe physique. I'm already excited to try him out. We won't be needing both of those beds tonight...

"Rayce!" he grips my wrist in a futile attempt to stop me. I bury my face in his neck, breathing in the scent. His feather earring tickles my nose. "No..." he moans.

"I'm gonna level with you," I breathe hot and heavy, stirring his skin into goosebumps. "I want to make this as awkward as possible as soon as possible." His response turns into a tiny gasp as I plant a suckling kiss on his neck. Triumphant, I feel his body yielding to me, melting in my dominating grip. What did I tell you? I. Get. What. I. Want.

Matteo brings his heel down sharply on my foot. Pain shoots up my leg - fuck! I release him with a yelp, leaping backward as he stumbles forward. He whips around, blue eyes indignant.

"I said no! Maybe everyone else in your life bends over for you, but I have some self-respect!"

His eyes widen as I hold up a roll of dollar bills - oh yeah, he knows exactly where that came from as his hand shoots instinctively to his back pocket and finds nothing there.

"So much self-respect that you sell your body for a couple of bucks? That's what those guys in the cafeteria were paying you for, right?" I challenge him. What a hypocrite. "Because if that's what you're worried about..." I reach into my pocket and make it rain. Singles flutter down around him, landing soundlessly on the carpeted floor. Now back in Clear, that would have at least gotten me a lap dance, but he just stands there, stiff. I see wetness in his eyes as he clenches his fists.

"You're a military brat who thinks he can get whatever he wants just because of his name."

"That's rich, coming from a whore," I say incisively. Does he really think he can preach at me? Matteo flinches but says nothing. He crawls into bed, defeated. I could overpower him, I've done it before. Could shred his clothes, pin him to the hard mattress and force my entry. But those violent feelings are already ebbing away. A guilty pang takes their place. Ah fuck, what did I say? "Matteo, I..." The lean figure wrapped in gray curls up discouragingly. The rest of my apology comes out as a sigh. Come on, the forward approach worked so well in prison!

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