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"Hey! Fifi!"
Barin cupped his hands to shout down the hallway. He noticed Felix's head twitch, and barked out a laugh. "What, are you actually answering to that now?"
A few other students tittered. Barin sauntered over, shoving his hands in his pockets and shoulder-checking the guy as he passed. He staggered slightly—hard not to, when he was a head shorter and built like a dandelion. Unlike Felix, Barin was over six feet, broad-shouldered, and packed with muscle. He was the king of Sorrett Military Academy, and he made sure everyone knew it.
"Well? That your name now, Fifi?"
"You're loud."
Barin snorted. "Yeah? Should I keep it down for your sensitive ears?" More chuckles from the onlookers.
Felix looked him dead in the eye and said, "It would be nice."
He was a little taken aback by that. Felix had been different, lately—not so much the cowering crybaby he'd been when they were thirteen and freshly admitted to the Academy. Both would turn twenty-one and graduate by the end of the year. Barin had already been chosen to lead a squad in the Paladin Core, one of the highest prestige entry-level ranks in the whole army. The kind that meant he'd be kicking ass, busting skulls, and letting the peons lick his shiny metal boots for the rest of his life. Maybe Felix had gotten into the Fighter Core, and thought that was worth acting high and mighty about just because he wasn't a Grunt. Barin would have to teach him otherwise.
Grabbing the front of Felix's uniform in his fist, he gave him another shove and knocked him on his ass. Other students were starting to gather around them, snickering at the scene. "Not everyone's as much of a whiny bitch as you, though, so maybe you should try growing a pair instead."
Felix tried to get up, but Barin kicked him in the side so that he fell back down. "You get up when I let you. Maybe if you say pretty please, I'll even give you a hand."
A year ago, that would have brought Felix to tears. Today he tilted his head a little to the side, reached up, and said, "Pretty please."
Barin laughed. He was the only one—the watching crowd was muttering nervously, some shifting from foot to foot. That had been so easy the other students literally couldn't believe it, but he could. How long had it been since Felix had actually pushed back? He really was this pathetic.
So he grabbed Felix's wrist and pulled him up, and without warning his arm twisted around at an excruciating angle and his back slammed into the row of lockers. His head soon followed. Dazed, he struggled to push back but found he had no leverage—Felix still had one arm in a lock, and the other pinned to the wall. He leaned forward until they were almost nose to nose, their bodies pressed flush together, and his dark eyes were all Barin could see. They glittered with cruel amusement.
He felt the flush first. It went from his cheeks to his ears and all the way down his chest, spreading like wildfire until it felt like his whole body was burning. And that would have been fine, no one would have noticed, Barin's blushes were never very obvious and the lighting wasn't good. But then the heat flowed down into the pit of his stomach, and he felt his cock stir.
No. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening—
Felix's eyes narrowed, and a tiny smirk played at the corners of his mouth. "Interesting." Without another word, he released Barin and walked away.
"Dude," said one of the onlookers. "You okay?"
"I'm fine," he snarled. "He surprised me, that's all."
Had he felt it?
That was the thought that consumed Barin for the rest of the day. He stumbled over himself more than once in drills, going over and over that moment, the look in Felix's eyes, trying to convince himself that he hadn't. It hadn't been that hard. And even if it had—he had to stop that line of thinking cold. He couldn't let himself consider the other reason Felix might not have noticed. Not when he was still out on the field with dozens of other cadets. He could not start blushing again right now.
By lights out, he was certain that Felix hadn't noticed. If he had, it would have spread. People would be laughing at him. He had to shake himself, take a few deep breaths. It was fine. Nobody had said anything. Felix didn't know. Nobody knew, and he was going to keep it that way. He lay down in bed... and heard a crinkle. His heart leaped into his throat. With shaking hands, he retrieved the slip of paper from under his pillow. Midnight, it said. You know where.
Back when they first got to the academy when they were thirteen, Barin and Felix had been fast friends. Neither had really wanted to come here—Barin's father had sent him in the hope that it would make a real man out of him, and Felix's parents had done it to settle some kind of debt. They'd gone exploring together, enjoying the thrill that came with rebellion, even when it was as small as being out of bounds. There, in the far reaches of campus, they'd found an unused classroom with a door that didn't lock right. If you knew just how to jiggle the handle, you could get in without a key.
That was where Barin went at midnight. He crept out of the barracks, his heart hammering in his ears as he padded down long, empty hallways. They weren't kids anymore. They would get in real trouble for this—he might lose his place in the Paladin Core. But if he'd left that note, Felix knew his secret. He couldn't ignore it.
The room was dark and silent when he eased his way in. Barin let out a little sigh of relief and relocked the door behind him. If he was here before Felix, that meant he'd have a little time to try to get his thoughts together, come up with a way to make him—
"Hello."
Barin nearly jumped out of his skin. He yelped and whirled around, fists raised, and found Felix leaning casually against one of the desks. He definitely hadn't been there a second ago.
"How the fuck—?!"
Felix just smirked.
It took a deep breath for Barin to steady himself. He balled his hands into fists and said, "What do you want."
"Simple. You stop the petty bullshit. The next time you fuck with me or anyone else like that, I let slip what you're packing." He let out a dry chuckle. "Or, I guess what you're not packing."
Seven years. It had been seven years since anyone had known Barin's secret—but the words still cut right to his core. His face burned and his eyes stung, but the really awful thing, the sick thing, was the bolt of heat that shot to his dick. He swallowed hard, willing his erection to go away. As usual, it did not obey. Still, he forced himself to relax. Felix couldn't feel it, now, and... and it was too small for him to see any tenting. His blush deepened at the thought.
"Fine," he gritted out.
"You know, if I didn't know any better I'd say you were getting off on this."
Barin struggled to keep a straight face as his cock stiffened even more. "Just shut up. I'll stop, alright? From now on, as far as I'm concerned you don't exist."
"Good." Felix strolled over to where he stood, then started to circle around Barin. "Consider my silence bought and paid for."
His mouth went dry. "There's a catch."
"No. We're done here, if you want. I won't tell." Felix leaned over his shoulder, so that his mouth was only inches from his ear. "It's just that I still haven't seen it."
"S-seen—!" Barin stammered. His stomach clenched, and he felt his cock throb.
Felix boosted himself up to sit on one of the desks. "Don't get me wrong, I know what I felt. But I'd like to get the full picture. Really let it sink in."
Barin couldn't speak. He could hardly breathe. He could only stand there, paralyzed with fear—and something else. After years of making sure he put his underwear on in the shower, of stuffing socks into his pants whenever he had to wear the tighter dress uniform, of starting fights with the other boys whenever they played comparison games, to distract them from the fact that he never, ever played...
His hands drifted down. They shook so badly he almost couldn't open the button on his trousers. He fumbled for a moment, his face bright red, while Felix looked on with that same lazy smirk. Finally, it came loose. He slid the zipper down, shivering at the sound of it. At the reality of what he was about to do. His pants slid down to pool around his ankles. Then he hooked his thumbs through the waistband of his boxers, and pushed. There was a soft rustle, as his last layer of protection slipped away.
Barin's cock was hard and leaking, flushed red from base to tip, twitching slightly in time with his frantic heartbeat. Even now, swollen as big as it would ever get, it was only an inch and a half long. His balls were just as tiny, dangling between his thighs like two peas in a pod.
Felix burst out laughing. Tears stung at Barin's eyes, even as the sound went right to his tiny dick. It quivered with it, leaking a drop of precome as he squirmed with embarrassment. "I knew it was pathetic," the other man said, when he finally got his breath back, "but I'll admit, I didn't think it was that pitiful."
Barin had nothing he could say to that. So he bore it, his head a confused jumble of shame and arousal, his heart hammering against his ribs.
When Felix had looked his fill, he stood up. Barin was almost a foot taller—but here and now, with his pants around his ankles and his tiny cock naked on display, he felt much, much smaller. The other man came closer, standing in front of him and leaning in to whisper in his ear.
"Tell me if it gets too much." His voice was soft, almost kind—and it dripped with dark promises. Barin felt his cock twitch.
Felix crouched down in front of him. "Look." He reached out—not touching, only holding out his pinky to measure it against Barin's dick. "Why don't you tell me what you see."
It was only the haze of arousal flooding his mind that let Barin manage any answer at all through his embarrassment. He looked down. "Your pinky." Felix waited, smirking. A tear slid down Barin's cheek as he whispered, "It's bigger than my dick."
"Longer and thicker," Felix agreed. "Tell me, what exactly do you think you're going to do with that if you ever get a woman into bed?"
"I—" Barin imagined another voice laughing the way Felix had. His eyes fluttered shut, and a low moan slipped out. "I don't know."
"Do you think you could fuck her with it?" Felix flicked Barin's cock, making him yelp. "Do you think she'd even feel it?"
Barin shook his head.
"Say it."
"N-no."
"That's right." Felix stood up. "You know, I'm still so curious. How could you possibly get off with that tiny little thing?"
"I—I, um—"
"Don't tell me. Show me."
With fresh tears in his eyes, Barin reached down. He took his cock between his thumb and index finger and started to stroke it. He was so hard already that another drop of precome beaded on the tip as he worked his fingers up and down.
"Aww," Felix jeered. "Can't even use your whole hand, can you?"
"No..." Barin rubbed frantically at his dick. He could feel it now, the hot pressure building in his gut. He was so close—
"Stop."
He couldn't contain a needy whimper as he drew his hand away.
"I don't think we've been honest with ourselves, here." Felix leaned in close and started to toy with him—tugging at his cock, rolling his balls in his hand, every languid movement bringing him closer and closer to the brink... and always, always stopping short.
"Huh?" Barin could barely speak. His eyes were half-lidded, and he felt as though his thoughts were floating somewhere far away. All he could focus on was how good it felt to be touched like this, and how shameful it felt to be mocked like this, and the guilty thrill of both.
"We keep calling it a dick," Felix purred, as he teased it with the tip of his little finger. "But let's face it. This isn't a dick."
Barin's breathing hitched into a sob. He caught Felix glancing up at him, a glimmer of concern on his face—but then he mouthed, more, and it vanished.
"Do you know what it is?"
His whole body was trembling. He shook his head jerkily.
"It's your little clitty."
Barin groaned. His cock—his clit jerked again, and if it were a real dick it might have spurted precome. As it was, it only oozed another droplet. He started to cry in earnest, even as his hips thrust forward against Felix's hand, desperate for more friction. He was so close...
Felix took his hand away. "Get on your knees."
He sank down so that for the first time in his life, Felix towered over him. The sight sent another rush of heat to his neglected clit.
"I'm going to show you what a real cock looks like." Felix didn't unbutton his trousers at all—he just opened the zipper. "Go on. Pull it out."
He reached in and wrapped his hand around something long and thick. Soon Felix's cock and balls jutted out from his uniform, and Barin could see the full scale of his erection. There was no comparing it to his own clit, but even he knew enough to know that it was enormous. Nearly as long as a standard-issue combat knife, and as thick around as a spear shaft.
Felix twisted, and the full weight of his cock slapped Barin across the face. "There. You feel that?"
"It's huge," Barin groaned. "How..."
The other man hummed critically. "I don't think the lesson's really sunk in. Maybe I should show you what you and that little clitty are good for." He grabbed Barin roughly by the hair and pulled his face forward, so that the flared tip of his cock brushed against his lips. "Open up."
Barin didn't know what to do—he'd never done anything like this before. He let his jaw go slack, and yelped as the cock thrust into his mouth. "No touching," Felix warned. "I want you focusing on what you're doing. You think about how pathetic you are, on your knees for me."
His keening whine was muffled against Felix's cock as it slid deeper into his mouth. He gagged as it struck his throat, then choked as the hand in his hair thrust him roughly forward. It wasn't gentle. Tears and snot ran down his face as Felix fucked it, yanking ruthlessly on his hair, grunting every time his balls slapped Barin's chin.
"That's it," Felix growled, as the tip of his cock struck the back of Barin's throat. "Make me feel good."
Barin sobbed around Felix's dick. His clit was aching now, he was so desperate for release. But he did as he was told. He swirled his tongue around the shaft, lapping at his balls and sending drool running down his face. All the while he could feel Felix's eyes fixed on him, drinking in the sight of him like this, weak and humiliated.
Felix's cock pulsed. Barin tasted something salty and bitter—it wasn't enough to be his load, but he must be close. The grip on his hair tightened, and Felix pulled out. Barin let out a needy whimper, his tongue lolling out, and the man standing above him laughed.
"Such an obedient slut, aren't you?"
"Please," Barin groaned, "I need to touch!"
"Tell me what you want to touch." Felix gripped the base of his cock, his jaw clenching.
Barin shuddered. He was crying so hard now that it was hard to speak. "P-please, let me touch it, let me touch my little clitty!"
Felix's hips jerked. His head tipped back, and his cock spurted all over Barin's face. It covered his cheeks, his nose, his chin. Some even got in his hair and his eyes. He writhed where he knelt, his hands clenching and unclenching with the effort of holding back, of not touching himself.
"Please," he sobbed.
With a contented sigh, Felix let go of his cock. He crouched down, so that he and Barin were face to face. And then he said, "Permission denied."
Barin hadn't thought he had any pride left to lose. But at those words, something inside him broke. He fell to the ground, prostrating himself at Felix's feet, sobbing and begging for him to please, use him again, use him however he wanted only please, please let him touch his pathetic little clitty—
Felix only laughed. "That's my clitty, now. You don't get to touch unless I say so."
Barin could hardly breathe through his desperate sobs. Speech was beyond him, now.
"Get up."
He stumbled to his feet. Felix took him by the shoulders and bent him over one of the desks, knocking his legs roughly apart. Barin groaned. His clit was only an inch from the edge of the desk, so close to touching it. He needed something, any kind of friction, he needed it so bad...
"I think it's time I show you the other thing a slut like you is good for," Felix told him. "And this time, I'm not gonna listen if you say no. If you want me to stop, you'll say white flag. Got it?"
Barin nodded.
"Say it."
"White flag."
"Good. You remember the War-Ready March?"
His stomach clenched. They'd had seven War-Ready Marches at Sorrett Military, but he knew instantly that Felix was talking about the third. The day that had ended their friendship.
"You tied me to a bench so that fifth-year chucklefuck would let you hang out with him and his friends. It took almost an hour for me to get loose. You know how many people came and drew shit on me? I had a dick on my forehead for almost a week."
This time, there was no confusing mix of emotions rushing through Barin—it was all shame. "I remember."
"Close your eyes." Barin did. "You're tied to that bench, now. Right out in the open with your pants around your ankles. I put you there, and everyone can see your puny little clit. They're laughing at it. They can see how hard it is for me."
He groaned.
"What are you gonna say? Hm?"
He imagined it. The rough wood underneath him, the pressure of dozens of eyes on his bare ass. "You fucking bastard," he snarled, bucking against Felix's hold. "Get off me!"
"Aww. Still acting like a big man, huh?" Felix gave his ass a pat. "You think you can stop me? Maybe if you beg like a good little bitch, I'll untie you."
"Fuck you!"
There was a popping sound behind him, like a cap opening. Felix reached down and, to Barin's horror, started to spread his cheeks apart.
"What are you doing?" he demanded, with a real desperation creeping into his voice. Then one of Felix's fingers slid up the cleft of his ass, cold and wet and slick with some kind of oil. His face burned. This was insane. No one had ever touched him like this. He'd never touched himself like this—he was the king of Sorrett Military, not some kind of sissy. "Wait! You can't—!"
The finger breached him, and Barin let out a pathetic little mewl. There was a sharp sting as it stretched him, and then it slid deeper and deeper in one hot, wet, filthy stroke. He writhed, his tongue lolling out as he panted.
"Having fun, slut?" Felix purred. "I'm sure our audience is."
"You—you—!"
Felix started to tease his hole with another finger. Barin tried to push back against it, but the man held his hips firmly in place. "Aww," he cooed. "Such a desperate little whore."
Barin couldn't say anything to defend himself. He could only grunt as the second finger slid inside and they started to scissor him open. "I'll kill you for this," he gritted out, but halfway through Felix's fingers curled and he had to swallow a moan.
Felix laughed and withdrew his fingers. A whimper of loss slipped out, and Barin felt his ears burn imagining the crowd hearing that and knowing how good he felt being taken like this. Behind him, there was another pop, and then the slick slide of skin on skin. "Last chance," Felix said, and spread his cheeks. The tip of his cock teased against Barin's rim. "Beg. Maybe if you act pathetic enough, I'll leave you alone."
Barin started to cry again. "Please, don't," he whispered.
"That's it?" growled Felix. "Come on. You'll have to do better than that."
"I—I'm sorry," he sobbed. "I shouldn't have tied you up! I won't do it again, please!"
Felix pressed harder, so that Barin could feel his asshole starting to give way.
"You're better than me!" he blurted, desperate now. "You're better, I'm pathetic, I'll do anything, only please let me go!"
"Oh, yeah!" Felix grabbed his hips and pushed. The tip of his cock popped inside Barin's ass. "Squeal, bitch."
And Barin did. "It's too big," he moaned, "I can't—!" He let out breathy sobs and half-formed pleas as Felix forced his cock into him, slowly and steadily splitting him open. Then he started to move, thrusting faster and faster. Soon the room filled with a filthy sucking sound, and the sharp slap of his balls striking Barin's ass.
Barin couldn't stop the noises he was making. Every little whine made his ears burn—they were so desperate, so needy. "You know," Felix said, as if addressing a crowd, "I really thought this would be harder. Turns out the king is a filthy little cockslut. Aren't you?"
"Yes," Barin whimpered. And then, when Felix reached around to pinch his nipple, "I'm a filthy little cockslut!" He felt so much dirtier when Felix made him say it himself.
"Maybe I'll let some of them have a go when I'm done. Huh? We could leave you out here all night, see how much come you can fit in this tight little ass."
Barin's clit throbbed. "Please..."
"Please what, whore?"
"Please... I need to touch." Barin swallowed hard, imagined all the eyes on him as he said, "I need to touch my clitty."
"Yeah?" Felix slapped his clit, making him cry out. "You don't deserve to touch. You're my fucktoy, understand? If you can't come while I use you, you don't come at all."
For the second time in one night, Barin dissolved into desperate groveling. Felix ignored him. "Well?" he asked. "Are you?"
"Wh-what?"
"Are you that pathetic? Are you going to come on my cock while I show you how weak and worthless you are?" He pulled at Felix's hips. Something about the angle changed—something that made his next thrust strike something secret and vulnerable and so sensitive that it made his clit jump.
He arched his back, panting and drooling and pushing himself back against Felix. "More, please, more!" Again and again, Felix's cock struck that same place, until he was delerious with pleasure and leaking precome from his tiny clit.
Felix started to speed up, his thrusts getting harder and more erratic. "Gonna pump you full," he groaned. "Gonna show you whose filthy bitch you are."
Barin groaned. He clenched down, and that was enough for Felix. He yanked him in close, burying himself as deep as he could go. His load spilled into Barin, hot and wet and filthy.
"Don't stop! Please! I'm so close!"
"I should leave you like this," said Felix. "I should make you go to bed, right now, and not give you permission to touch yourself tonight."
"No!" Barin wailed. "No, please, I'll do anything!" Violent sobs wracked his body. "Don't make me wait, I can't do it, I can't! You can show them, you can show everyone what you did, show them you made me your bitch! I don't care! Only please—!"
He cut off with a moan as Felix started to thrust into him again. He wasn't soft yet—each stroke hit Barin right where he needed it, coiling the tension in his lower belly tighter and tighter until he came undone. His legs went out from under him. Only the table and Felix's grip on his hips kept him from falling to the floor as he writhed and babbled thank you, thank you for letting me come, thank you for using me.
In the aftermath, Barin lay facedown on the table, too stunned to move. He heard a rustle of fabric as Felix tucked his cock back into his pants. "I'm leaving tomorrow," he said.
"What?" Barin's head was still hazy. "But I don't graduate for another month."
"I do." Felix walked around to the other side of the table and leaned down on his elbows, a lazy smirk on his face. "I got into the Assassin Core."
Barin froze. "You what?"
"So I outrank you. And just about everyone." Felix tickled the underside of Barin's chin with a finger. "I have ways of turning up in unexpected places. I'll see you soon. I'm nowhere near finished punishing you, yet."
Barin shuddered. "I... I really am. Sorry, I mean."
"No, you're not. You only stopped when I showed I was stronger than you." Felix stood up and went to the door. Then, over his shoulder, "I'll believe you when I see you be kind to someone who isn't."
There was a click, and he was gone.