MetaDeprivation - 21. MetaPrompts 604: Tech (MW2 – MW3)

“Colt!” A baritone voice used to being obeyed without question shook the whole floor.

Colt put down the checklist he used to ensure he hadn’t forgotten to pack anything for his travels to France. He still had to snicker that this very pack list nowadays included two individually vacuum-wrapped T-shirts (a rather conventional gray-USMC one and a black one saying: ‘Is sex dirty? Only when it's being done right.’ Strangely, it showed a pickle as well, leaving room for many dirty interpretations), two bars of soap with the most exquisite cherry scent to avoid those ubiquitous ‘high-end’ shower gels of hotels with the olfactory appeal of a women’s locker-room, and – how embarrassing was that – an equally vacuum-wrapped teddy bear in MARPAT outfit. If ever asked he would pretend this was a gift for his nephew. Nobody needed to know CE had been sleeping with that little teddy bear for the past weeks since Colt had returned from his ‘Help! I’m a vampire’-episode, started to work, and learned he would be assigned to a project in Paris for half a year.

He wondered whether he should play Meta and ignore his Alpha ordering him around like a little omega wolf, but given he would be gone for the next two weeks, he decided to be docile and returned: “Coming with a vengeance!”

“Asshole,” Prime barked nearly adorably.

When Colt entered the main room, he met all of his four wolves – Isaac, unfortunately, was back on duty, even though ‘only’ in Twentynine Palms. But he noticed a lot of other stuff laid out on the dining table and the rug. The grins on the wolves' faces strongly suggested they were up to something no good – or very wolfy-good.

“So, as our Meta has decided to desert us again …,” Prime started.

Colt rolled his eyes and decided not to dignify that teasing with any comment but quiet disapproval.

Nearly disappointed the Alpha continued: “… and as we’ve had some unfortunate technical glitches …”

It seemed now Brian decided not to dignify the Alpha’s comment with a reaction.

“… we have taken appropriate measures to avoid a repetition of such events.”

Silence.

“First,” Brian started holding up a new phone. “We have added a little additional firewall to your phone to prevent anyone blocking Wi-Fi or cell signals again.”

“That’s good. You jail-broke it?”

Brian shrugged and continued. “Nonetheless they could stop those signals without your phone, towers and such, so we’ve got you this.” He lifted a little stick that fit perfectly into the audio jack.

Now Colt was intrigued.

Brian smiled proudly and continued. “It reroutes the signal to the 635 MHz ISM radio band frequency and can be picked up by any of our phones the same way within a 15 mi… I mean 20-km-range.”

Colt grinned and couldn’t help himself. “Even you guys know that Paris is further than 20 km away from you.” His brain wanted to tell him something, but he enjoyed the wolves’ efforts too much at this moment.

Brian ignored that not very smartyass smartass comment and continued: “Of course, we also have a base station that you will hook up to your hotel Wi-Fi. And when you land in LAX our base station here is powerful enough to receive the signal and distribute it to us.”

“So, we have our own LA wolf cell net?” Colt asked – he started to get impressed.

“We call it ‘WolfTooth,’” Prime announced proudly.

Colt bit his lip. A warm feeling had touched his heart, and he so wanted to hug them. Nobody else had ever gone through so much effort to protect him. He might not be able to return the protection as a man should, but at least he could express his gratitude.

“Then,” Sam continued picking up a visual order by his Alpha. “We have bought you some new luggage.”

“My suitcases are per…”

Sam lifted his hand to stop him.

Colt tilted his head. It seemed the scrawny little boy had fully recovered from his scent deprivation suffering and used his big boy body to clearly tell his Meta when to shut up. Colt was intrigued about to where that would lead.

“First, this is your check-in luggage.”

“Okay.” Colt didn’t see anything unusual about it. He was relieved the wolves hadn’t decided to brand it with the USMC seal or a wolf head. One had to be grateful for little favors.

“It has a GPS sender in it.”

‘I see,” Colt realized.

“The app is on your and our phones. You can always track its path to find out whether it is at places it shouldn’t be …”

“Nifty.”

“And this is your hand luggage.”

“Let me guess – also GPS?” Colt asked naughtily. He touched the high-quality material and jerked away in the very same second. A painful picture had burnt itself into his head. He took a deep breath and continued to pay attention to the Italian-skinned wolf.

“Of course,” Sam answered proudly, oblivious to what had just happened, “but …” He made a dramatic pause to open a lid. “It comes with a built-in battery to charge your laptop twice and your cell phone six times if needed.”

“Wow.” Colt was impressed. The sweat on his neck had disappeared.

“It is FTA-approved,” Prime added as if misinterpreting Colt’s doubt.

And this was the clue for CE to continue. “We’ve also backed up all your files to our new server.”

Colt bit his lip again; this time because of a hint of embarrassment.

“We agreed with the Espoo pack and the Paparoa Pack …” CE smiled when he sensed Colt had no clue who they were, “… our friends in New Zealand, you know. We agreed on reciprocal back-up servers … So unless the vampires take out us in California, the leading packs in Finland and New Zealand at the very same time, our files should be secured.”

“I wasn’t worried about that,” Colt confessed, though thoroughly impressed about the anal diligence the wolves had displayed again. He nearly got hard on all of that OCD – who was he kidding?

“We’ve backed up all your files,” Prime reassured, not without a hint of disapproval at some of them.

“So none got lost like a certain book or certain shorts during my move?” Colt teased.

CE turned red like a pumpkin.

“So it was you,” Colt stated with satisfaction.

CE nodded like a kid who had just been caught with his fingers in the cookie jar – which was a feeling he surely knew as well.

“Yes, and I saw those pictures with sailors doing unspeakable things,” Prime seemed to protest; not about the fact they were doing unspeakable things, but the nuisance of them being sailors.

“We’ll come to that, Alpha,” Colt threatened in a way that made his waterfall scents cleanse the room and his wine scent fill it with sexual tension that needed resolving soon.

Prime growled knowing it meant his Meta was up to no good. Strangely though, his submission didn’t strengthen the strawberry scent.

“So, you’ll track my phone even if civilization breaks down, you track each of my luggage pieces, I will get angry messages if I don’t report at the very the moment the plane has landed at Charles-de-Gaulle, and I’m pretty sure there is something techy in that innocent teddy CE gave me …”

CE shook his head – vigorously, very vigorously.

“Fine,” Colt accepted the denial.

“We just want to make sure you’re as safe as possible.”

Colt nodded. “Thank you. I really appreciate that.” He made point hugging Sam first, then CE, and finally Brian.

When Prime opened his arms, Colt shook his head. “No. First, we need to go to a surplus store.”

“Why?” Prime asked. “What do you still need for your trip?”

“I don’t. But you!”

“Me?”

“We’re going to get one of those cuty tighty whity sailor uniforms …”

“Why would you need …” Prime played outraged.

“Not me. You! I’m going to face fuck a sailor tonight before I leave for Sartre-depression. Isn’t that what sailors and marines do before they ship out to unknown lands?” He smiled with the satisfaction of a mean cat that had just caught a mouse to play with.

Brian and Sam burst into laughter at the picture of Prime in white on his knees, while CE just sent an apologetic shoulder shrug to his boos – after all CE had ripped the Navy shorts.

“You’ll pay for that!” Prime promised.

Colt smiled evilly. “Are we done now? Or do you have some more techno gimmicks? A remote white stallion carrying me around in Paris? A flying coach? A gold ring linked to a satellite?” When nobody responded, he continued: “Now, hop hop! After all, later I have to completely repack because of all of this …”

He was lucky Prime was too busy bitching about this humiliation of becoming a seaman instead of noticing that Colt had had another premonition when touching the new suitcase: himself old, fat, ugly, along in the house in Palm Springs they had been last year, with the realization that if things were too good to be true, they probably are. But in the meanwhile, he would fuck …