Spy Training in a Matriarchal Society, Chapters 1 and 2
By korbona69
Jason limped in through his door, kicked off his shoes, and fell down on the couch in the living room. He let out a low groan as his collapse jostled some sensitive areas.
“Hi honey, welcome home! How were your classes today?” Came a voice from the kitchen. He looked up to see his older sister come in holding a glass of water, wearing nothing but a bra and panties.
Gynland was a country that believed fully in meritocracy, and all children were raised communally in creches until the age of twelve, at which point they were all tested in various ways. Those who exhibited the highest potential and drive for a specific career were placed with couples who were judged to be the best possible nurturers who could help them achieve those goals, bettering the country. Only a small percentage of people were thus placed, and Jason had been with the Clark family for the last 6 years. Lily, his older sister, had been with them for 9. Looked at side by side, they were clearly not related. Jason was almost 6 feet tall and had a functional muscular frame; he trained hard, but not for show. He had olive skin and black hair. His sister was also in fairly good shape, but was more lithe than muscular, and was about 5 feet and 8 inches tall. She was naturally lighter in skin tone but tanned and had light brown hair down to her shoulders.
Gynland was also unique in the way they selected their leaders. Men had always been judged to be uniquely susceptible to emotional manipulation, especially seduction, and historically male leaders and advisors were eunuchs. Many decades ago, with advances in biology and medicine, people had realized that this practice was removing the most dedicated and competent men from the gene pool. A concerted push in biotechnology had led to the advent of new organ cloning techniques which allowed for all organs, like kidneys and testicles, to be regrown in the case of illness or injury. Today, while men were eligible to work in any field, there were special requirements for them to take positions of power. A man could serve as a politician, judge, police officer, and so on, as long as he completed special training on resisting his urges. Those who failed this training could still take up those roles, with few recriminations, as long as they volunteered to be temporarily castrated. The most respected men, a vanishingly small minority, were able to control those urges and maintain their manhoods at the same time. Most chose other professions. There was nothing stopping them from becoming successful in ways that didn’t require them to sacrifice that part of themselves.
Jason was aiming to be one of those men and had been placed in this family because the husband, Daniel Davis, had also been one of them. More than that, he aimed for a role in the country’s intelligence services, and men were always sought after due to unfriendly nations largely being patriarchal. Daniel had been fairly high up in the Federal Intelligence Service before he had been killed in action several years after Jason’s adoption, and his mentor’s death drove him to push himself even harder.
In any case, Jason’s eyes were instantly drawn to the expanse of skin Lily was revealing. His family had always supported him; unfortunately for him, the support he needed was in dealing with his male weaknesses. She stretched leisurely, grinning at his reaction to the way her C cup breasts were thrust forward. He was wearing somewhat tight workout shorts and she smirked as she saw him harden and wince in pain.
“Did you get hit in the balls again? Poor baby,” she mocked. Her hazel green eyes sparkled with humor.
“Ugh, yeah,” he groaned. “I was sparring with Heather today, you know how much of an asshole she is. I actually had her pinned to the ground and our instructor called it, so I let her up. Then she fucking slammed her foot into my balls. Coach Wallace took her down immediately, of course, but the damage was already done at that point. I was down for a couple minutes.” The embarrassment of rolling around clutching his groin after having his weakness exploited was something he had long been accustomed to, as a man trying to enter a combat field. Protective cups were controlled and hard to get. Athletes could use them because it slowed down the game to have them taken down like that, but anyone wanting to fight was required to do so without that kind of defensive gear. Almost any injury could be healed these days and when deployed he could be required to fight in any condition. He had been forced to fight naked in the past and would be again in the future, though that had its own challenges for women. On the other hand, their bounciness could serve as a distraction, a lesson he had learned painfully.
“What the fuck?” Lily exclaimed. “That is not acceptable! She better have gotten in serious trouble for that.” She set the glass down on the table and approached him.
“Yeah, she did. She got a failing grade for today and several demerits; she’s going to be cleaning the toilets this weekend. And if this happens again she’ll fail the class.” Coach Wallace was in no way opposed to targeting of testicles, and in fact had used Jason to demonstrate such attacks in the past. He was one of only two men in that entire class and of less than a dozen in the program. There were a few others with more men, but the one in the capital city was the best, just like with other programs. Lily was in medical school there and they shared an apartment since their family home was too far away.
However, failing to control herself after losing the spar was an almost masculine anger issue, something which had to be corrected. Jason himself had very good self control. If he hadn’t, he’d never have been allowed into the FIS program at all.
“That’s good to hear, I guess. Now, drop them,” Lily commanded. She reached over and tugged at the waistband of his shorts.
“Come on, Lily, is this really necessary?” He protested.
“I’m a doctor —”
“In training!” he interrupted.
“In training, whatever,” she conceded. “Let me see the damage. You just got them back, do you want to lose them again?”
He shuddered and raised his hips so she could pull them down and look him over. Every male was required to experience a nonmedical castration in the program, so they would know how it would feel. They weren’t expected to push through it of course, no more than anyone could be expected to walk on a shattered leg. But it was required nonetheless. In fact, they had to be on both sides of it, which he hated. He had to admit the theory behind it was sound, though: unlike his female classmates, he could very much empathize with other men in that position, so he had to be trained out of his instinctive reluctance to avoid attacking the groin.
That excruciating class had been last month. It was very early on in the program to weed out those who didn’t have the guts for it. In order to balance out the ratios, male prisoners who had committed serious crimes were brought in so the women could get to try it. Having to do it himself had only heightened his anxiety and his poor balls had tried to retract in sympathy. Even worse, it was Taylor, one of his friends, who had taken his balls. It took several weeks to have them grown and implanted, though it was a common enough procedure. It was also easy to get hormonal supplements to make up for the lack of testosterone.
“Looking good,” Lily said, shaking him out of his memories. His hard cock had bounced up and was now up by his abdomen. She was kneeling on the soft carpeted floor next to his crotch, about eye level with it. She used her soft left hand to hold it up to his stomach and with the other lightly traced his balls. He shivered, in pleasure this time. From his angle he had a perfect view down her top and his cock twitched, which her smirk showed she clearly noticed. He was a bit larger than average, about 6 inches, and his balls were slightly swollen from earlier.
She lifted them up and rolled them around her hand before gently squeezing each one. He moaned, in pain and pleasure, as she did so. Her hand almost reflexively began to slide up and down his shaft. After thirty seconds or so, she gave them a light tap and jumped up to her feet, breasts bouncing in a way that Jason couldn’t appreciate, as he had hunched forward slightly. “Yeah, I think you’re good to go!” She declared cheerily.
“You’re so annoying,” he complained. He pulled his shorts and underwear back up.
“You know you need this!” She teased and walked away, putting an extra sway in her step until she reached her room. At her door, she paused. “If Heather ever pulls any more shit like that again, let me know and I’ll kick her ass.” She punched one hand into her other palm and went inside, closing the door.
Jason laughed. Lily dabbled in some martial arts and she wasn’t bad, but she wasn’t anywhere near their level. Still, her concern for him warmed him, and after her little bit of torture it was a nice reminder that she was truly in his corner. He lay on the couch for a few more minutes before grabbing an ice pack and going to his room to study. Combat was only a small part of his training; their academics were rigorous as well. He had to know domestic and global politics as well as the politics of enemy nations. On top of this, he already knew three languages fluently and was expected to learn two more during his time at the academy.
The ice pack helped and a few hours later he was famished and ready for dinner. He and Lily were both meal preppers so he wandered over to the kitchen and warmed up his food. After eating, he was washing up the dishes when he heard someone try to sneak up behind him. In the reflection of a spoon he could see it was just Lily so he didn’t react.
She pressed her body into his back and he inhaled sharply before he could help himself at the feel of her breasts. She was still barely clothed. Her mouth was right under his ear and he could feel her breath on the back of his neck. One of her hands went under his shirt and rubbed his stomach while the other went down to his crotch, over his pants. “You’re a little pent up today, aren’t you?” She whispered with a little giggle.
Male students didn’t have restrictions placed on their orgasms. The suggestion came up quite frequently but with current technology it was still far too difficult to actually monitor something like that. However, Jason was truly dedicated to mastering his body and had asked Lily to help him with this as well. She had happily taken the opportunity to tease him and controlled his releases. She was, perhaps, too kind, but even Jason had never managed to actually complain that she let him cum too often. For example, it had been three days since she had last let him actually finish.
“Yes, ma’am,” he moaned. The way she was rubbing his bulge had left him erect almost immediately.
“Strip,” she ordered, and he did so rapidly. She snickered at his desperation. “Now me,” she said. He spun around and reached around her to undo her bra, but she stopped him. “Ew, your hands are wet!” She said, pushing him away. He turned to dry them off and returned to her, stripping her naked as well.
She reached down and pulled him forward by the cock. They stood with their bodies pressed together, his erect dick trapped between their stomachs while her naked tits pushed into his chest. Her hands traced down his sides until they met at his sack and she paused, considering. “I think that deserves a demerit, little soldier,” she said. She clapped her hands lightly, squashing his balls in between. He let out a little noise and bent over a little before straightening up again.
“Good job,” she said to congratulate him on his self control. She dragged him by his dick again to his room and fell backwards onto his bed. Lily let her legs spread and commanded, “Make me cum.”
He would eventually learn to seduce women (he was unhappy to not be bisexual as that would have expanded the scenarios he could be used in, but there was no helping it) and hoped that all of the training his older sister had put him through would help with that. He had only dated one woman before and she had certainly never had complaints.
He kissed his way up her legs, his arms massaging her upper body. He knew she had sensitive nipples so he pinched them while she moaned. After he judged sufficient time had passed for her to be ready, he gently pushed two fingers into her vagina while his mouth finally found her clit. Lily moaned loudly and used her hands to push his mouth further onto her. At this point, he knew her body well enough to bring her to orgasm quickly; he slowed down a little as she recovered and then lavished his attention on her again, making her cum a second time. This made her too sensitive and she pushed him off and beckoned him to lie next to her in bed. He got in and she cuddled into him.
Her face was still flushed and she bit his ear before whispering, “Good boy.” She turned to face him. Her tits felt so nice draped over his left arm and he moaned as her hand lightly traced his still rock hard cock. “Do you think you deserve to cum today?” He stayed silent; the question was just her thinking out loud. Her hand dipped to his full and heavy balls and she said, “These little guys did take a battering today. I suppose you’ve earned it.”
Jason smiled at this. Lily sat up and swung a leg onto him, turning so her ass was in his face and her mouth on his cock. She arched her back and pressed her tits into his abdomen before taking him into her mouth. He moaned and she got to work, sucking his head while one hand jerked up and down his shaft and the other fondled his balls. After days of teasing he was perilously close to the edge and he barely found the strength to gasp out, “I’m close!”
Immediately, she stopped and he almost cried out in frustration. “Don’t be a baby,” she admonished, slapping his balls. He jolted in pain but stilled quickly. After a ten second break she kissed the tip of his cock before taking him back in, almost all the way down. She bobbed her head up and down his dick until he had to warn her again, but this time she just gently squeezed his balls until he erupted, shooting his cum down her throat. After she had milked every last drop out of him, he lay in bed, spent.
“You’re not done yet,” she called. He sighed and sat up. In order to combat the drowsiness that came with an orgasm like that, Lily had come up with the idea of making him exercise immediately afterwards. It wasn’t anything super strenuous as she couldn’t interfere with his assigned routine, but it exhausted him further. After he was done with his pushups, situps, and squats, she pulled him into a hug. “I’m proud of how far you’ve come,” she told him. She looked up at him supportively before suddenly kneeing him in the balls. As he bowed over, she guided his head into her chest. They stayed like that for a moment, her knee still crushing his balls into his pelvis while her tits smothered his face. “Goodnight!” She cheerily called before shoving him onto the bed and flouncing out the door.
Jason lay there in a mixture of pain and pleasure that he had long gotten used to. Distantly he heard the shower come on. “Goddamnit,” he muttered. Whatever, he decided. It had been a long day. He could shower in the morning. Another tough day of training lay ahead of him, but he knew he could make it.
Chapter 2
“Welcome to your first day of the Federal Intelligence Service’s agent training program, everybody! You all have worked very hard to get to this point and we have the highest hopes for all of you. As first year students, you will all be working closely together and building the next generation of our great nation’s intelligence service. We have many enemies in the world and we are counting on you to safeguard our future.” With these words, the director of the program, Nicole Barns, inducted Jason and his cohort into what would be the toughest years of their lives so far.
The first day was easy, just an overview of all of his classes. The program was more like the high school classes he was used to than college, in that they were heavily regimented. Each of them was to be working personally with trainers to help keep their body in top condition and there was a medical team dedicated to the program. They had rigorous coursework as well. FIS agents were meant to be the best of the best. There were other tracks for those more interested in analysis or otherwise incapable of reaching the physical peaks Jason could. His father had been on track to become one of the first non eunuch - the term for men who agreed to be temporarily castrated to hold positions of power - leaders of the FIS before his untimely death shortly after Jason’s adoption. This drove him ever onwards, even with the weakness he knew he had to overcome.
There were only eleven men in the entire cohort of 100. Historically, only half had made it through the entire program. There were rarely fatalities in training and injuries were almost always fixable with the advanced medicine Gynland pioneered. However, the mental and emotional toll the program took was harsh. Even one third of the women failed to keep up and dropped out or failed out. They were provided alternative pathways, as just getting here was a sign they were a cut above the rest, but Jason refused to follow one of those. While his family had been supportive - he groaned to think of some of the training his mother and sister had forced him into after he grew older - many of those around him had thought he was insane for trying to do this.
He was shaken out of his thoughts during the mandatory mixer after their orientation when someone came up to him. “Hey, Jason, it’s great to see you again!” A tall woman with long black hair said to him. She was slender and muscled, with a small chest but nice long legs and a tight ass.
“Taylor!” Jason exclaimed and pulled her into a hug. “It’s been ages, how are you?” Taylor was one of his friends from high school who had shared this dream with him. Because of the way Gynland was organized, by high school, everyone had been through enough testing to know what career they were most likely destined for, so his school was mostly composed of people wanting to go into the military, police, or intelligence services as well.
“I’m doing great, super excited to start classes tomorrow,” she said, smiling. “What does your schedule look like?” They each took out their phones and looked. They were all required to learn two of the most commonly spoken languages in the world and had chosen the same ones as they had studied the other options in high school together, and they also happened to be in the same combat class. “Ooh, that’ll be fun. For me, not you,” she smirked, looking at his crotch.
Jason laughed a bit uncomfortably, but he was used to it. “Oh please, even with these, I’ll kick your ass.” He was ready when, a moment later, she tried to sack tap him. He blocked her hand and turned his hips away from her, smiling proudly.
“You know they don’t let you use cups here, right?” She teased. “Anyway, I’m looking forward to the politics classes. We’re going to go so much more in depth than before, it’ll be so interesting.”
The two chatted for a few more minutes before moving on to try to make new friends. There was one class that only Jason, and the male students had to take. It took the spot of one of the free periods everyone had to study and go to office hours. It was ominously just called “Male Weakness Mitigation” and he was very nervous about it, even as he knew it was necessary.
The next day, Jason began to have his actual classes. A diligent student, he took detailed notes in his first few classes. There was only one issue, so far. There was a girl named Heather who loudly talked to her friends about how useless the male students were when they introduced themselves and how she would destroy them in their combat training. Jason picked up that she was unfortunately in his combat class as well as history. There were always a few who thought like her; most people believed that men just had self control issues but were otherwise as capable as anyone, but some were female supremacists. Heather was about 5’5 and was unfortunately beautiful. She had a sculpted body, like everyone else, but large breasts that she flaunted in a low cut top. Unlike high school, there were no uniforms here except for combat training. Jason had heard that the women would coordinate on exam days to try to distract the male students, but he believed that he would be too focused for that to impact him.
They had combat training every day, but the actual topic would differ. They were not doing hand-to-hand combat that day, but learning how to use firearms. Jason paid close attention to the instructor and was unsurprised to find that he had a talent for it, as he had always had good hand-eye coordination.
After that, they had lunch and then a free period. Jason and the other men had their first Male Weakness Mitigation class then, and they nervously banded together and left the cafeteria, trying their best to ignore the catcalls from the women who stayed behind. They were allowed to mingle with the other cohorts, but their seniors were strictly forbidden from telling them anything at all about their classes.
The classroom they were in was smaller than the rest, as it was not a lecture hall. There were three tables, each with enough room for 4 students, lined up in the back, and a whiteboard with a projector in the front. There was also a good bit of room between the instructor’s podium and the tables where the floor was made of the same cushioning that martial arts rooms used. At the back of the class was a door leading to another room. They had, as was expected of them, arrived a little before the appointed start time of the class. At precisely 1:00 p.m., a woman in her mid thirties walked in.
One would expect there to be a range of attractiveness in the FIS; being physically fit is a large part of beauty, but not the entirety of it. However, because they were expected to be able to seduce targets, even the plainer looking members were above average in looks. Jason had felt bad about this in the past but he understood the reasoning, and those who were equivalent in skill and intelligence but not appearance had other opportunities. All this is to say that even those already inflated expectations were blown out of the water when Instructor Sofia Santiago walked in. She was a tall brunette with a toned body. She wore a dress that emphasized her curves and had a welcoming smile that sent shivers down the class’s spines.
“Welcome to Male Weakness Mitigation,” she said. “My name is Instructor Santiago. I am a 15 year veteran of the FIS and will be teaching you how to cope with the weaknesses you were born with. We in the Service have a lot of respect for the men who attempt this path, but no sympathy; sympathy in our line of work can be as crippling as a kick to the testicles.” She laughed a little at her own joke.
“You may have heard rumors that we will somehow strengthen your testicles through conditioning, much like you do with your muscles. This is, unfortunately, not the case. With training, adrenaline, and dedication to the cause, you may be able to power through a hit to your weak spot for a time. We aim to instill this in you, so you can keep fighting rather than curling up in the fetal position, but our expectations are low. In your hand-to-hand combat training, you will be learning how to avoid being hit there at almost all costs. Here, you will learn to cope when a blow inevitably does slip through your guard.”
The students looked uncomfortable. Jason knew he wasn’t the only one shifting in his chair at that.
“Alright then!” She clapped her hands and jumped in place, which sent a ripple down her body. Most of the eyes in the room involuntarily went to her bouncing D cup tits. “Today, we will be establishing baselines.” She opened her laptop, which had already been set up on the podium. On the whiteboard, the projector showed a spreadsheet. As Jason read it, the nerves he was feeling worsened immensely.
It was a table with each student’s name alongside a list of variables like “stayed standing yes/no”, “time to stand up (seconds)”, and “damage severity.” The door in the back opened, and another woman in her early 30s wearing short-sleeved scrubs walked in. She was short, around 5 feet tall, but curvy and had long black hair down to the middle of her back.
“Hi everyone, my name is Dr. Megan Bowey, and I am one of the members of the medical facility for the program. I’ve been working here for the last five years, and while I have not gone through your training like Instructor Santiago has, I have seen all kinds of injuries as a result. I know that men are always worried about this, but I have never misdiagnosed a testicular injury. After you get back on your feet, come through this door and I’ll check you over.”
Through the door, they could see that there was a small nursing station inside with first aid equipment and two hospital beds that were curtained off, along with a small waiting area with a few chairs. The thoroughly nervous students acknowledged her words and she went back through the door, closing it behind her.
“We’ll go in alphabetical order, just for today. After this I’ll make sure to switch things up.” Jason tensed; his name started with a D so he was sometimes the first chosen, but he was dubiously lucky today. “Christopher Allen, please come up to the front.” A huge guy, 6’6 and rippling with muscles, walked to the front. “By the way, do you prefer Chris or Christopher?”
“Chris, usually,” he said. It should have been comical; Instructor Santiago stood most of a foot shorter than him and while she had muscle, she didn’t have the body of a bodybuilder like Chris. However, he was clearly tense and wary, eyes tracking her every movement with far more fear than lust.
Due to the lack of a dress code, each of the men were wearing different clothes. They hadn’t changed into their exercise gear for this class as they hadn’t known what they were going to be facing. Jason, like half the class, wore jeans. Cups were banned but jeans would provide a little bit of protection that could help reduce the impact of a light hit, which could help in daily life.
Their instructor looked the large man up and down, noticing that he too wore jeans, and frowned slightly as she looked back at the class. “Since you didn’t know that you’re supposed to change into exercise gear, I won’t hold it against you this time. But keep that in mind for next time,” she announced. “To keep things fair, I’m going to ask all of you to take off your pants and wear just your underwear when you get up here.”
Chris gulped but did as commanded, having a fatalistic look in his eyes. He knew what was about to happen - he had experienced it many times before. “Perfect,” Santiago said. “Now spread your legs and keep your eyes open. Do not attempt to dodge or block my blow. Try to stay standing, if you can.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said and spread his legs wider. He tensed his core and kept his arms behind his back to avoid any temptation to block. The instructor smiled. Her expression was both fear inducing and almost gentle, as if she knew what she was about to do would be extremely painful but was fully determined to do it anyway. Her long, strong leg went back, and the entire class watched as her professional heel - with a luckily not sharply pointed toe - drove into the muscular young man’s crotch.
His resistance was worn away as soon as she took her foot off his groin. As she stood, smirking slightly, he crumpled. His hands went to his balls and he curled up around himself, letting out weak moans. Jason’s heart jumped to his throat and his testicles tried to retract into his body as he felt sympathetic pains. He hadn’t noticed but the instructor had clicked a stopwatch in her hand at the moment she kicked him, and she stood casually above his twitching body looking at it. Finally, after more than two minutes had passed, Chris was able to force himself up. He was sweating and nauseous, still bent over, but just barely able to stand.
“Well done, Chris,” Santiago commented. It didn’t sound false, but to see her compliment him for something that pathetic rang hollow for the men in the room, even though they doubted they could do as well. “Go see Dr. Bowey. Next, Aiden Bell.”
A short man stood up, wearing his underwear and a button down shirt; he had been dressed more formally than most. He tried his best to not betray his nervousness, but Santiago’s expression gave it away; she could tell how he was feeling.
“Same drill, Aiden,” she said before noticing something. “Chris! You left your pants here. Please pick them up.” He had barely made it back to the row of tables and now torturously came back. Aiden picked them up for him to avoid him having to bend down, and Chris muttered out a weak “thanks” before starting to make his way back up.
Santiago waited until he made it into the other room, updating the spreadsheet, before she turned back to Aiden. Another kick and another man was down, this time letting out a shriek of pain before collapsing. While Chris had curled into a ball and stayed there, Aiden rolled around on his back, one hand clutching his balls and groaning loudly. He took almost 4 minutes to get back up, but was in slightly better shape, remembering to pick up his pants before clambering to his feet and walking towards the door.
“Jason Davis,” she called. Jason stood up, having already slipped off his pants with the rest. He left them on his chair and walked to his doom. But he didn’t delay; he stood in front of her, spread his legs, and looked her in the eyes. There was a slight hint of approval there, or maybe he was just seeing things to make himself feel better.
He saw her leg swing back; her dress didn’t restrict her mobility at all, and it always went back the same amount. As it came forward he marshalled his will, all of the training with his sister and others, and stood as firm as he could. Her foot hit him like a train and the pain exploded a second later; first in his balls, as they loudly screamed in agony, and then quickly up his abdomen. It wasn’t the worst hit he had taken - she was clearly moderating herself at least a little, but it was brutal nonetheless. He staggered, bending over, and his legs shook. His hands had already involuntarily reached for his balls and he felt them over, making sure they were still intact. Somehow, though, he still stood, the first to do so. Hunched over almost double and a stiff breeze away from kissing the ground, but still on his feet. He raised his head to look at Santiago as much as he could.
She was smiling, the widest they had seen so far. “Well done, Jason! We’ll have to see if this was a fluke, of course, but excellent work. Go see the doctor.” He tried to straighten up and salute but gave up, just nodding and walking to the door. Behind him a Caleb Hawk stood and walked nervously to his own doom. When he got in, he collapsed into a chair. The waiting room was empty so the doctor was probably examining Aiden. He let himself be swept under the pain, letting out a moan of his own.
After an unknown amount of time - it felt like forever but only one more person entered, so probably just a few minutes - he was called in. He hobbled behind the curtain and sat on the bed. “I’m sorry, but please stand so I can properly examine your testicles,” Dr. Bowey said apologetically. He stood back up and dropped his underwear. Reluctantly, he let go of his balls so her gloved hands could feel them instead.
She asked his name and he gave it. Dr. Bowey then began to very gently feel around his testicles, but the lightest touch sent lightning bolts of pain throughout his body. He forced himself to stay quiet and she was done after a few seconds, marking down “no permanent damage” on the spreadsheet that she also had open. “They’ll hurt all day, and probably for the next few days, but that is something you’re going to have to get used to. Painkillers will become your best friends, but just know that there will be a point at which you’ll have to stop using them to better simulate conditions where you don’t have access to medicine. For now, swallow this and apply this ice pack. Behind there is another little room. Stay there until you feel like you can walk back to the room and then return.”
Jason swallowed the pill and followed her instructions, thanking her. The room was occupied by the two who had preceded him. Each was immersed in their own pain and didn’t acknowledge him. He sat in a chair there for several more minutes holding the ice pack to his groin, long enough that Caleb Hawk and another student had also taken their seats, before he felt that he could stand up straight and walk back to the classroom. The room was empty and he was the first one to return, which made him feel a little proud.
He wasn’t walking normally, but he tried his best to hide it as he got into his seat. The instructor was doing something on her laptop but it was no longer projecting, so he sat there, trying not to think about what would be next. Over the next half hour, the rest of the class came back, limping, red faced, still holding the ice pack on their balls. When the last student came in, Santiago looked up from her laptop and clapped her hands to get their attention.
“I know you are each feeling miserable now,” she said, looking over the class full of masculine pain. “This is what you have signed up for, and what you will have to learn to live with until you graduate, if you do. Weakness Mitigation is not graded like regular classes, as this isn’t something that we have yet figured out how to improve. One day our scientists will crack the problem, but it hasn’t happened yet. You will instead be graded on effort and improvement. For example, Samuel here was on the ground for almost 6 minutes, the longest in the class.” She pointed at a medium height man, who blushed in embarrassment. “At the end of the semester, as long as you shave even a few seconds off that time and keep following orders, you will pass. Jason -” she pointed at him and he straightened in his chair “was the only one in this class to remain standing. As a reward, the next time we do this, I’ll have to kick him twice.”
His blood ran cold and he cursed his past self’s pride for not just giving in. Then, she laughed suddenly and said, “Just kidding! But for him, improvement would look different and be more about his immediate response. Even though he was standing, he was completely vulnerable to any follow up attack, so we would hope to see him improve on his ability to react after the injury. Does that make sense?”
Jason slumped back into his chair in relief and nodded with the rest of the class.
“I want all of you to close your eyes and take in some deep breaths. Focus on your body and your sensations,” she continued. After a few breaths, she said, “Do you feel that deep ache in your gut and your balls? The nausea in your stomach, from the kick and from the fear of the next time this will happen? That will be your daily companion for the rest of your time here. If you can’t handle it, there’s no shame in that. We are all bound to our bodies; one of the best analysts I ever knew was paralyzed, but she still made meaningful contributions to our nation.”
Sophia Santiago looked each of them in the eyes, trying to convey the sincerity of what she said. Men were weaker in this way, but their pride often got in the way of admitting it. Far better for them to realize their limitations now than after a year of suffering.
“For today, class is dismissed. We will meet again in a few days, after you’ve had your regular combat training. Best of luck with everything.”
The students got up slowly and put their pants back on before picking up their bags and leaving. When Jason got to the door, she pulled him over to the side. “I truly am impressed, Jason,” the instructor said. “I wasn’t expecting anyone to make it; I’ve only had a few in all my years here. Even from your grades and record, we are expecting great things from you.”
Jason managed a thank you and then excused himself, awkwardly walking back to the cafeteria with the others. While most of their seniors already knew where they liked to spend their lunch and free periods, their cohort still didn’t fully know the campus, and were still hanging out there. When the women watched them limp back in, there were a few laughs and catcalls, but mostly sympathy.
“Rough day, huh?” Taylor asked as he sat down next to her.
“You have no idea,” he said. He was tempted to brag that he was the only one who had managed to stay standing, but knew immediately that she would mock him for it, friend or not.
She smacked her crotch and laughed, saying, “Of course I don’t!”