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little boy blue

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The very worst part was how it hurt nearly every single time. No amount of foresight or preparation seemed to help, and of course this was what they wanted the most from him, to fuck him raw, until he could no longer hold back the pained cries catching in his throat, until they pulled out, panting, satisfied at the damage they had wrought. Afterwards, if he had been especially good, he might feel their hands on him, rough palms sliding over his wet quivering thighs, sometimes apologetic, sometimes gloating. Never for too long, it wasn’t as if he were a woman, a human being with actual feelings. Just a tool, just one of the many the company provided for the team to help them get through the war.

Though to be entirely accurate, in the general hierarchy of the base, there were several inanimate objects ranked higher than Spy, a fact Soldier took great pains to repeatedly emphasize to Spy, who had not advanced from Private for years.

 

“Private” was standing at attention now, or a sloppy and French version of such, while Soldier paced furiously back and forth in the tiny room post-match, spittle flying from his teeth as he ranted and raved.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice,” Soldier growled as he pushed his face right up against Spy’s. “You were a disgrace out there, an utter disgrace, to the nation, to the company, to the team! We could have gotten that last point, if you had been doing your duty!”

Duty. That was the one thing he had always done for these men, his “duty.” If lying on a bed with your legs spread could really count as a duty. Spy wanted to laugh, and maybe he did laugh, because the next thing he knew, he was spitting out blood and bits of molar onto the floor.

For a second, they stared at each other, and there was just the slightest hesitation, the barest hint of self-knowledge in Soldier’s eyes. Then it was gone, and Spy tried to brace himself for what followed. Still, it took his breath away, the sting of the riding crop against his bare skin, almost hard enough to draw blood. He kept count of them, the welts rising angry red on his abdomen, his forearms, down his hips, but lost track once he caught sight of the obvious bulge below Soldier’s belt, that seemed to grow with each smack of the crop.

“What are you looking at, you spineless worm?” Soldier sneered, tucking the crop below Spy’s bloody chin and lifting it so they were eye to eye again.

“My duty, sir.”

He stared straight ahead, unmoving, while Soldier cursed and undid his belt and fly, the riding crop forgotten for now. Shoved unceremoniously back against the bedroom wall, he let Soldier fumble for him, and did not resist the slide of the thick, meaty cock into his body. Time seemed to drag with each agonizing thrust in, copper still filling his mouth, the sharp scent of Soldier’s sweat in his nostrils, feeling hot breath against his cheek as the other man rammed into him over and over, an endless mad litany muttered at his ear. Yet before too long, he felt hands grasp his hips, and he stood on the tip of his toes as he was half lifted off the ground, as Soldier thrust into him three final times before coming with a loud grunt.

 

“Do not let me down again, private, do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

He tucked himself back in, expression still unreadable, then placed a manly pat on Spy’s shoulder. “Go get yourself cleaned up at the infirmary.”

Which would mean he would have to walk down the hallway of their quarters out to Medic’s domain, naked but for his mask, the blood on his face, the semen down his legs. As long as no one saw him, but… someone always saw him.