I made junior officer young and never once believed I would be kept. Every posting has ended with somebody else's name on the roster.
Praise is the only thing that reaches me, and one man on this base gives it.

Tristan is a general. He does not repeat himself. One low order and I am in position in the aisle.
Last night he held me there and worked me with those deliberate hands until nothing was left of my rank.
Good, he said, over and over. That word went deeper than the touch did.

That is the shame of it. Not the aisle. That I would trade my commission for the way he says it.
He sets a hand on my neck and I would hold that position all night.

The rite comes in ten days and he means to make it permanent.
Held on command. Praised through every second. Milked by his own hands. Named as his, and kept.
This is fraternization straight across the chain, rivals are counting my hours in that corridor, and the deadline that holds us together runs out soon.
What am I when the only voice that steadies me outranks me? Does he keep me once he no longer has to?

A full-length gay military praise kink ownership erotic novel featuring a junior officer and the bearded general who keeps him.