There was just something about Special Inquisitor Mòrag; the way she carried herself, her pristine uniform, even the barest hints of her femininity that peaked out of the all-encompassing ensemble she was adorned with. The days where she'd march through and inspect the trainees would always result in every member regardless of rank pushing themselves beyond their average duties. Jac was no exception.

Ever since that fateful day when he'd mustered up the courage to step forward and risk his life to Resonate with Yachik; the Gormotti's life had been completely changed. The same Empire that caused his father to leave them in a huff was now sheltering him and giving his family the money they so desperately needed. And if there was one thing Jac knew, it was that you should repay the kindness of others with the redoubled effort of your own.

So he did that; putting in the work for himself and three more in honor of his little siblings. Any exercise, any drill or instruction, and any menial task was met with his full attention and determination. His years spent working every possible job he could ultimately paid off as he quickly rose to the top of his class…

And yet there were small things that were making him falter; second-guess himself or make the tiniest mistake. Sure he redirected course almost immediately after and more than doubled his efforts to compensate, but still the fact that such flaws were starting to show when he was so near the end of his basic training merited concern…at least in Mòrag's eyes. Hence why she had called him following the end of evening drills to her office: alone.

"Thank you for coming, Recruit. I trust your trip to the courier went well?" Mòrag asked as she stood up from her desk. Her immaculate uniform in fine order as always with her calculating brown eyes peeking out of the grilled brim of her official's cap. Not even the natural heat of Mor Ardain would compel her to loosen a button or a collar in the privacy of her own office. The sight of her mild suffering in the form of a few beads of sweat… Titan's Foot let this be over quickly.

" Yes ma'am." Jac answered as he snapped to attention as his superiors had instructed. The High Inquisitor returned his salute before offering him a seat. As the Gormotti settled in, the Ardainean noble picked up the file she was reading before his entry. "I was just going over the reports of your progress… and I must say I'm impressed."

Jac was no stranger to being appraised for his work, but he refused to let such praise go to his head. "I'm glad to hear that, Lady Mòrag." He responded, letting just the slightest bit of his humble roots bleed through his professional tone.

"By all accounts you'll be ready for patrol duty in less then a month's time; an admirable feat, all things considered." The Inquisitor continued. She let her words linger just long enough before turning to face him, her thin smile fell to a frown. "However; your superiors have noted a few…hiccups, in your recent performance. The Captain of the Guard doesn't see it as something worth concern, and to an extent I agree with his assessment."

"However, I would be remiss to at least try and find the root of your troubles." The raven-tressed woman concluded as she placed the file down before turning to fully face him. "Are you homesick, recruit?" she probe as her hands went to her back.

Jac mulled her words before finally answering. "A little, my lady; but knowing that my work will improve my little sibling's lot in life is a comfort that drives me further." He explained, being as honest as he could.

Morag nodded, seemingly satisfied with such a candid explanation. "I see. And you seem to have acclimated to Alba Cavanich's climate, especially after living in Torigoth all your life." The Ardanian mused, recalling a few instances of recruits from Torigoth being less-than-effective at adjusting to Mor Ardain's stifling heat. Not that she necessarily faulted them; even denizens born on the Titan struggled to cope with this uncomfortable climate. So that left one other big hurdle when it came to dealing with Gormotti recruits; one that was rooted in their rather…robust, lifestyle…

"So would it have anything to do with your Gormotti… instincts, perhaps?"

…

The silence was deafening, and yet all too telling. In all respects they should've looked into this much earlier, to at least give the lad time to sort out a healthy receptacle for his genetically-boosted urges. Although to his credit she'd not gotten any reports of overly stuffed receptacles from his assigned bunk so maybe he was simply a late bloomer, or one that was better suited to keeping himself in check. Still, she'd be remiss to leave such a matter hanging over the recruit's head, especially with his formal assignment so close at hand. "I see… In that case…"

"Attention!"

Instantly Jac snapped to the call; one hand raised to his brow with the other pressed into his side. Making a note to append his file with such exemplary reactions, Morag stepped forward and looked him straight in the eye. With her slightly taller than him, his green eyes struggled to find her brown orbs behind the brim of her cap. Still he couldn't help but show his confusion as her hand went to the zipper of his trousers before morphing to shock as she dived in to pull out his limp genitals.

"I can see why Gormotti men are so favorably looked upon." She mused as her hand went to his generously endowed groin. Her fingers deftly ran over ever vein, as if trying to probe his cock for any imperfections or weaknesses. The soft touch of her gloves on his shaft sent blood pumping to his penis, especially when she gave a few tentative squeezes. Yet despite the sudden breach in protocol, Mòrag's stoic face remained as she dropped to her knees and began lavishing his dick.

Much like her general attitude, it was purely direct and professional; lacking in passion or risk, intent on results rather than enjoyment. But Jac really couldn't bring himself to criticize her; the fact he was getting serviced by the High Inquisitor herself was simply too overwhelming.

To her credit, her ministrations were quite thorough as her tongue covered every inch in her saliva before rearing up to engulf his glans. All the while her brown eyes kept an even gaze from between the brim of her hat up to the Gormotti lad, watching his clenched face and twitching ears for any sign of his inevitable climax. It was a testament to the recruit's willpower and restraint that he didn't grab her head by her silken raven locks and ram his cock down her throat… or perhaps it was simply fear of the obvious repercussions that would come with manhandling the Flamebringer.

Mòrag's office was filled with the sounds of muffled moans and subdued gurgles as a the star recruit continued to mouth-fuck the emperor's sister. Bobbing her head up and down, she endured the off taste of a (mercifully) clean cock. Jac's hands gripped the metallic pads of his gloves so tight the screeching of metal assaulted both their ears. "M-my lady, I'm-!"

Mòrag's eyes widened as her mouth was instantly filled with a heaping dose of Gormotti spunk. But despite this, her composure held firm as she diligently swallowed as much as she could. All the while she was forced to breathe through her nose; getting a whiff of male musk into her nostrils. Finally her overly taxed throat was granted respite as the torrent of sperm petered out.

Tentatively, the Ardanian woman withdrew from his penis, gathering as much of his seed from his deflating shaft as she could before pulling off with a wet 'pop'. No sooner had she swallowed the last of his offering that one last errant shot blasted into her face, causing her to wince lest her eyes be hit.

Jac watched in numb terror, all but certain he'd be looking forward to a brief flight to the lower half of the Titan. But Mòrag simply stood up with a thin streak of cum gracing her face. "I trust this will suffice?" she asked; her composure unchanged even with the mark of another man's seed on her cheeks. The recruit didn't trust his voice and wasn't keen to press his luck, so his response came in the form of a single nod.

Satisfied, the Inquisitor took out a small cloth and wiped her face. Once she was sure it was clean, she handed it to him to finish cleaning his wilted cock before making himself presentable for his departure. A minor rise came forth as the stoic woman stepped up to adjust his collar, her closeness compelling him to think of anything but the encounter they'd just shared. "If this issue persists, I'm afraid you'll need to find another means to relieve yoursef; there are limits as to what I can reasonably do." She explained as she stepped back.

"I look forward to seeing your progress, Recruit. Dismissed." And just like that it was back to normal; protocol and stations and the respect that such would merit. With a final salute, Jac stepped outside before closing the door once again. He lingered outside her office just long enough to stew over what she said.

The parting words of the Grand Inquisitor rang in his ears, and while disappointing to think that there would be no followup, he could at least take solace that she seemed empathic to his needs and courteous enough to offer a solution. And hey; it's not like Alba Cavanich suffered a dearth of enticing ladies on the streets.

If the choice came down to sending a little less home or a few more drinks with his new Decade, he could spare a few nights' sobriety…