So, its been awhile! Sorry, I'm not back just yet with more Uninhibited Wallflower, though I have been very slowly working on it. A few more chapters are banked, and as soon as I can actually finish it, I will post it all.

This little installment is what I was able to "whip up" for the Fandom for Oklahoma compilation. While it was presented as a one shot in the compilation, I actually wrote it more in the drabble style, so that's how I'm going to post it. We've got almost 20 chapters and I'll do a couple a day as long as everyone's enjoying!

I can't thank everyone enough for their continued support over the years, in particular while I took a break from fanfic writing to try my hand at original. The road has been a little bumpy, but I think everything is about to smooth out, and with any luck, my time will be more my own now. We'll see. LOL.

Special thanks to my girl True for all her help pre-reading and 'graphic'ing for me. Also, a shout out to Mrs. Auburn Cullen for prompting the idea behind this story with her question: "Why aren't there more military Domwards?"

Banner by: True English Rose

Rated: NC17

Warnings: BDSM

Beta: R.E. Hargrave

Summary: Chance brought him to her home town, and into her home. Awakening desires drew her to him, but made him run. However, distance and time can't squelch the knowledge that is coming to light. Magnets drawn to each other, Edward and Isabella share a need for control—he needs to have it, and she wants to give up. Will they get want they want? How far will Isabella go to get under Masen's command?

Under Masen's Command

By texasbella


"Give them to me, Private. Show me you're not too weak to be here." His piercing green eyes bore into mine as his breath — laced with cloves and tobacco — fanned hot across my face while he yelled at me.

"Sir, yes, Sir." Shoulders back, ass clenched tight, and fingers snapping a salute off my brow, I tried not to react to his proximity.

Gravity pulled my aching body toward the ground where I'd just been ordered. The price for being the last one back from the five mile run which completed our morning drills was twenty push-ups — real ones. Girl push-ups were not allowed; you'd be a fool to even think of doing them.

The delicious ache in my body was not from the morning drill, however. Every part of me had been thoroughly ravaged the day before, and each time I moved or stretched, my flesh reignited with the memory. This was why I was here; he was what I had come for.

My name is PFC Isabella Swan, and this is the story of how I came to be under Sergeant Edward Masen's command.