And they usually can.
Because the more excited and determined a Dominant gets, the weaker a submissive gets, and the more they want to give in.
That’s biology. That doesn’t change.
He’s seen it often enough. One doesn’t go around touching a Dominant unless you’re asking for something. Despite the regulations and training, if a submissive touches a Dominant, they should expect to be caged in, ordered to do something, give something up.
The Dominant is likely to be pretty friendly about it since the submissive is asking so sweetly, but one never knows.
He’d put his hand on Robert and waited like a devoted dog and Robert had let him go. Smiled and backed off. Unharmed and unused, when Robert very easily could have told him to go with him to the showers and pushed him to his knees—and Logan would have gone.
And been a disappointment.
He’d be no better than Daniel. Logan and his brother went into the military together, did the same evaluations, training, and treatment, but Daniel hadn’t come out nearly as stable as Logan.
Watching his brother become weak, submissive, and willing to do whatever a Dominant wanted was heartbreaking and frightening.
It’s upsetting to think about how much his brother enjoyed his submission.
He and Daniel were best friends. But then he became submissive. Daniel’s desires and needs replaced their friendship and familial bond. Submission was release and relief, it was love and fun, agony and pleasure. It was an addiction and master.
The only good times after they came into their designation was in that lull after Daniel was satisfied. Then there were hints of the brother he’d lost. His brother would be calm but move slowly.
He’d eye his bruises in the mirror, sigh as he sat down. And no Dominant wanted to keep a submissive like that. Because he was too submissive. His submission hadn’t been good for Daniel psychologically.
As Daniel broke down, became a shell of who he’d been before the designation, Logan got angry. Those were dark days.
Days filled with so much rage at the world, the military, his parents. Dominants. Even Daniel. Because he wouldn’t say no and protect himself when it was so easy for Logan to say it.
He’d always thought Daniel didn’t want to say no.
This is the first time in his life that he wonders if just maybe he couldn’t.
How many times had he begged Daniel to be stronger? Logan had been so self-righteous. So angry and unwilling to understand.
Logan is suddenly in a very bad headspace and he knows it. Thoughts of Daniel are usually a pretty good warning that he might crash. Not just drop or feel like he’s got the flu but fucking fall apart for days.
He’s so unsettled and needing that he takes the submissive shower stall. His heart is pounding in fear that someone might see him going in, but he’s really unsettled by his encounter with Robert and has to get himself under control before he can mix with people again.
Especially if he wants to see Robert tomorrow.
The submissive shower stalls have soap, lube, and hormone wash, as well as a supply of a hormone douche if a submissive is really in trouble. Which isn’t something he’s ever had to use. He knows this is something submissives use if they’re dropping and don’t want a Dominant to help get them out of it. It’s effective and fast, easily absorbed by the bloodstream. Logan gets the douche immediately, but stares at it, intimidated and uncertain. He’s never had to do this before.
He stays away from his hole and his prostate and that whole area of his sexuality unless he absolutely can’t. Daniel hadn’t. His father had told him all about Daniel’s proclivities. A warning of what not to do.
Daniel had been a size queen and a slut. Giving in to his desires so freely is what made Daniel’s life so hard.
Putting something inside his hole is bad.
Right now, Logan doesn’t have a choice.
He checks the shower stall lock again for good measure. There’s a shower bench and he lies down, puts lube on his sphincter, and reads the instructions, although it can’t be that difficult. He inserts the plastic nozzle inside his passage and fills himself up with the water and hormone solution.
Which is when he realizes he’s weeping. Quiet and not noticeable over the echoing noise of the shower, but this is very fucking bad. He doesn’t want to do this.
He lost; his biology won.
The stall fills with steam while he lets the douche work. After a few minutes he’s moved past the awfulness of the experience and gets off the bench to use the toilet. Then he gets back under the shower. He feels very fragile and more than a little off. He doesn’t know how long it’s supposed to take to work. It’s supposed to be almost instantaneous, the drugs absorbed quickly into his bloodstream because of the permeability of the fragile interior lining of his passage.