Diamond as a Boy's Best Friend

Diamond as a Boy's Best Friend

Diamond as a Boy's Best Friend

This is a slash fanfic based on the short story `The Mud Below' by Annie Proulx, found in the collection Close Range. Note that it's set in an alternate universe and implies, but does not depict, mpreg and male breeding.

Slayton's the biggest guy in their class. Diamond's the smallest. Diamond says it's fate that brought them together, and Slayton replies that fate, and Diamond, can suck his sweaty stones. He's not complaining though. He's really not.

After all, how many other boys his age get their dicks as wet as him?

They fuck every day: in toilet cubicles at lunch, behind gym sheds after school, under piers on the beach, in bushes, park benches, bus stops, phone boxes —basically anywhere that isn't at home.

And when either set of parents aren't home they fuck all day, in every room (and yes, one time when they were both super drunk that included Diamond's parents' bed. Diamond didn't want to, but Slayton made him), only stopping to eat and piss (and sometimes not even that, if Slayton's feeling raunchy).

Everything is absolutely fucking perfect between them. Except for the part where Diamond won't let him bareback him, won't let him breed him up the way he should. Won't let him seal the deal the way his heart as well as his dick so direly yearns to. Diamond's unfilled womb is like a question mark hovering over their relationship. Slayton sees it every time he slides inside Diamond and his cockhead kisses his cervix. It's starting to piss him the fuck off in a way no number of back-of-class blowjobs or car-hood cock-rides can appease. But he's not like Diamond. He was never good with words, or numbers, or anything but his fist and his dick. He can't see a way out of the bind, and the worst of it is Diamond can't even see they're in one.

Friday morning, Redwind High School, first class of the day, last day of the term.

Diamond is wearing a little white collared top, knotted rather than buttoned under his soft brown nipples. He cut away the bottom half with scissors in class one day, and it's so short it shows most of his belly most of the time. Over his ass are plastered a pair of faded Daisy Dukes that show everything but his actual dick and hole (and even those are wont to slip out if he stretches up too high or bends too low).

Just before the bell Diamond bounces up to Slayton in the hall, stands on tiptoes on Slayton's shoes, loops his fingers behind his neck and leans up to give him a messy but all too brief kiss. It leaves his lips slick and strawberry-smelling from Diamond's gloss. His prick belches out a fat wad of precome in his pants.

Diamond's breath tingles on the shell of his ear. `Hey, baby, guess what.'

Slayton's heart is two sizes two small in his chest, surging blood into his two-sizes-too-big cock in his pants. His voice comes out scratchy and low like his throat is made of sandpaper. `What?'

`I wanna get fucked by that big horsecock of yours.' With that Diamond tweaks the tip of his already twitching dick and dances away down the hall, shimmying his ass in little rape-teasing circles that hit Slayton's crotch like a long-distance lapdance.

But by the time Slayton's mouth catches up to his cock Diamond has disappeared around the corner.

Slayton lurches down the hall after him, all of him too big for his clothes now, all of him itching to pin Diamond down and cram his raging turgid self violently inside him. His erection aches like a tumour between his thighs.

But when he bangs through the door of the classroom he finds Diamond already seated in his chair, leaning forward with an arch to his back Slayton recognises instantly even through all the fucking clothes, gazing toward the front of the classroom with such earnestness only Slayton knows it's an act. Sassy little slutbag. Oh boy has he got it coming twelve inches upside his cheeky little cunt. And boy does Slayton want to haul his tight little ass of that seat and give it to him right then and there, with a good ball-spanking thrown in for good measure. He can do that, and he's done it before. Hold Diamond one-handed as he slams him off and on his prick, and slaps him up good with his other hand. He's so itty-bitty Slayton bets he could fuck him hands-free, carry him around supported on nothing but the fat engorged pole of his schlong.

He's already reaching down to unzip himself when he remembers the two dozen other boys in the room, who are looking curiously his way. And notices the grown man in the brown suit standing in front of him, looking straight down his crooked nose.

`Is something the matter, Mr. Digsby?'

Slayton pauses with his fingers on his zipper. His face is burning up like one of his mother's flans, but he doesn't see any way but to tell the truth. And he wants to spit it out. That slut of a sophomore's got him so damn worked-up. `Yes, sir. It's my bitchboy, Diamond.'

`What's he doing?'

`Being a fuckin cockteasing cunt, sir.' The class howls and Slayton blushes. His big hands tighten into fists by his side.  'I—sorry for cussin. But he is.'

`Hmm. Is he?'

`Yes sir. And I'm sick of it.'

The teacher considers the red-faced towheaded oversized schoolboy and his throbbing oversized erection. There is a gleam behind his half-moon spectacles. He taps his long ruler on his polished suede shoe. `Just this once, I will let you address this...problem of yours. On the condition that you do it here, in front of the class, so that they can all profit from the instruction you give your boyfriend.'

Diamond twigs before Slayton does. `What? No way!'

Is Mr Cookton off his bald nut? His parents' bed when they were out is one thing, but right here, right now? With everybody looking?

He looks at Slayton, expecting to meet similar disbelief, but his lover's face has set like stone and his eyes are as hard as Diamond's namesake.

He begins to think that just maybe his little joke wasn't so little to Slayton.

`Get over here, Diamond.'

`Uh-uh. Fuck. No. That is fucking cra—'

`Get over here before I beat your ass!'

There's a slight voice-crack on the last syllable but Diamond doesn't seem to have noticed.

He stands up from his seat, almost falling over the chair, and wobbles over to stand before Slayton. All five foot fuckable of him. He's breathing hard, in that way that could be either a panic attack or an orgasm. Slayton still hasn't learnt the difference, and sometimes, like now, he wonders if there is one with his sawed-off wonder of a boy.

Slayton puts a hand on his belt and unbuckles it with a sharp metal flink that echoes through the avid quiet of the room. Diamond's eyes roll up just a little and he makes the softest of whimpers, the kind he makes when Slayton's punched the fifth or sixth nut out of his little love-socket.

Slayton leans in, and the head of his prick lodges in Diamond's exposed bellybutton. `Get your ass up on that desk and spread your hole.'

Once more, before Diamond's lips can mould their cocksucking plushness around any kind of protest, he finds himself scrambling over his short legs to lay himself across his desk, dick a line of thrumming heat down his thigh, all just from that fuckin tone in Slayton's voice.

He unconsciously arches his back in that deep submissive curve that just begs Slayton to plant his hand between Diamond's shoulders and his cock between his buttcheeks. Looking over his shoulder in that fearful but hungry way, like the world spins around Slayton's cock. Which, as far as Slayton is concerned, right now it does. Spinning so hard he feels dizzy.

He stumbles forward, jeans dropping around his ankles (conveniently, his mother stopped being able to find underwear that fit him the year he met Diamond), knees quivering as they knock against the edge of the desk, either side of Diamond's legs.

One of the best things—no, the best thing—about Slayton being so big and Diamond being so fucking tiny is how many different positions they can try, how easy it is to push and pull him around and put him exactly where his dick wants him to be.

But today, Diamond is already there.

He smooths a hand down Diamond's back, taking time to savour how big it is splayed across the skinny little fuckhandle of his waist. How easily he could strip that slutty little shirt of his back, if he wanted to make his bitch walk home completely naked except for a shiny suit of his spunk.

The heel of his palm hits the belt of Diamond's Daisy Dukes. He bought them for his `sister', he told Slayton while Slayton was trying to see if he could shove his cock up through the leg and into Diamond's hole (the answer was yes, but he could only get about half even his long shaft inside, and the friction kind of hurt, denim chafing his shaft). There's less to them than most lingerie, but just that little bit of a barrier makes the moment when he finally fucks in just that inch or two more satisfying. Makes it feel, if Slayton were talking just to himself, like more of a conquest. More of a rape.

Today is no different.

He could just pull them down. Everything Diamond wears to school is easy to take off. They make sure of that in the store fitting rooms beforehand. Take plenty of time and leave plenty of mess for the clerks to clean up. But Slayton has not forgotten his audience any more than Diamond has.

So instead of sliding them down Diamond's smooth but strong thighs, he hooks two fingers in a hole just below the waistband, and methodically tears them down the seam that runs through the deep honey-crevice of his ass, designer denim splitting as easily for Slayton's strength as cotton wool. Diamond makes a whimper of protest, but claps his top hole shut when Slayton lays a good smack right into the rip he just made.

From there on it's like clockwork. By now he's probably done it a hundred thousand times. Slayton lines himself up and sinks himself deep into Diamond's warm plush heart.

Diamond takes it with only a long fragile sigh, sloppy-soft pussy eating it up, swallowing it, taking it, eating him up to the hilt. Slayton snatches him up by the throat, choking him, not to keep him quiet, but to keep himself from blowing his load right then and there.

It feels too fucking good. It always feels so good, too good to be real. Too good to be his, for the taking whenever and wherever and however he wants it. Warm squelchy wet and squeezing tight. He couldn't count the number of nuts he's busted into Diamond without moving in or out an inch, only with the rippling walls fluttering over and around and up and down his girth, milking up every drop from his overladen come-sack.

The world only feels right right then, and all of it is him and Diamond and him in Diamond and soaking himself in that heavenly-hot bliss.

He starts to fuck in; all thought of an audience is forgotten, and there's only him and Diamond and his dick, and the long, hard lesson it's going to teach Diamond's slutty teasing cunt.

Before, it had always been Diamond who'd taken the initiative, who'd decided the when and where of their mating, and always Slayton who'd gone stumbling after him with his pants down, and his dick in his eyes, just like today. For the last fucking time, he decides, gripping Diamond's hips like a steering wheel and driving in with all he has, till he can feel his own bones shaking from the violence of his love.

For Diamond, it's like being fucked for the first time all over again. He's buried beneath Slayton and the classroom, the teacher, even the other sniggering kids are blotted out by his animal strength and heat and weight on him, man and mountain at once. The all-enveloping fug of sweat and cheap deodorant and that special smell that's pure rank lust.

He thinks of the way Slayton eats barbeque, two hands gripping, strands of meat shearing apart like two open legs, a thin clear membrane stretching briefly between, closing the gap, trying desperately to hold it all together, until all is split, sundered and devoured, ruthlessly ripped apart by tooth and nail, helplessly leaking fat drops of juice like a woman endlessly coming as she's raped to death. That's what it feels like inside him when Slayton pushes in that last endless inch. A skewer slid into tender virgin meat, only it's fatter than the leg of a chair, thicker than a can of beer, and alive and twitching and hot as a curling iron in his cunt.

Even as the suppleness of the all-organic fleshlight he carries between his thighs spreads itself for the invading force of Slayton's prong, Diamond knows that this desktop dicking is just fucking in the finishing blow to a seismic shift in their relationship. Nothing will be the way it was after this, and that dumbslut chunk of Diamond that's drooling out, 'More, baby, more more faster harder give it to me unhhhhh!' doesn't want it to be. Even if Slayton is a good six months younger and was never the brains of any operation, he's taller and bigger; his cock is harder, his balls hang lower, his voice is deeper and when he gives orders, which he does more often these days, something deep in Diamond's boypussy instinctively aches to obey. And rewards him with good tingles when he does.

He's being rougher even than he normally is, fucking Diamond like he's trying to kill him with his cock. Or at least seriously maim him. Diamond feels miserable and humiliated but also turned on because he'd be lying if he said he hadn't fantasised about getting railed in front of their class.

He's gonna be all kinds of fucked-up when it's over but for now, try as he might, he can't feel anything but overwhelming, mind-crushing pleasure.

Some of the other boys who'd had an inclining eye on that half-pint of honeycream boy mourn for the plump little pussy that Slayton is absolutely ripping the fuck up.

Slayton only mourns that it took him this fucking long. He stares down at the place where his cock is roughly, relentlessly making out with Diamond's ruby cunt, fascinated by how the pink muscle ripples over the swelling purple veins, eating up miles and miles of meat with helpless surrendering smooches that only make him harder.

Slayton feels—there's no words for what he feels. Somehow their eyes on his skin make him feel ten times taller, makes his cock feel ten times fatter, buried deep in the warm snug clutch of Diamond's lily-pink cunt.

And Diamond never looked smaller or more like he'd break apart if Slayton thrusts in once too rough.

He's fucked-up for it but the contrast, the fucking sight of Diamond's little heart-shaped cunt-cushion swallowing up the stiff ploughing acres of his cock as he punches it over and over into that plushness—it wrecks him.

The feeling of being nestled up against his love's beating heart with no latex in-between. The way his cheeks colour up a nice shade of cuntwall rose as Slayton spanks him with his hips—both cheeks.

Diamond told him the other day he couldn't even remember what it was like to sit down without it smarting all up the inside of his ass.

And Slayton finds that instead of feeling bad, like Diamond evidently expected him to, he takes a wicked pride in how good he can hurt his baby's hole, how thoroughly and unforgettably he can mark him. He wants Diamond to think of him, to think of his fucking cock, whenever he sits anywhere, or stands up, or walks, or gets dressed or undressed or does anything at all. There's no brakes on this train, and no bottom to the well of ways Slayton wants to possess Diamond and ruin and defile him and beat him down and fuck him up and love him so hard and deep the universe explodes except for the piece of it that holds the two of them together. Right now there's nothing but this, but the drive and the urge and mounting heat, the slick slap and the clinging wet and what's coming, what's coming, what's fuck-ing COMING.

Diamond wishes he could eat himself alive, like one of those widow spiders or whatever they are. He loves their risky fucks, but this is the opposite of empowering. This is him ceasing to be even half a person in his classmates' judging eyes and from now on becoming merely the thing Slayton uses to warm his cock and drain his balls into. Before today, it was different. They had something special. Slayton didn't treat Diamond the way other boys treat their bitches.

Everybody has their phone out, filming. Some of them are jerking off, the pricks, or making their own slutboys ride or suck them. But it seems like most are just staring, grinning in awed disbelief, unable to believe what's before their eyes. That one of their own could sink so low. Could be such a shameless, brazen, wanton whore.

In less than five minutes the social life he's so precariously cultivated is uprooted and overturned, gone. Those vids are gonna go everywhere, only words anyone will say to him now will be sneering epithets and mocking invitations. Even if he wore turtlenecks and sweatpants every day from now to graduation, the staff and students of Redwind High won't be able to look at him without picturing him bent over his desk, tiny ass taking a giant dick.

He's often told Slayton that he's his whole world. Now he's made it true.

He flicks his gaze away to the front of the classroom, fleeing from the other boys' gleeful rapacious stares, and catches the eye of their teacher.

Whoops.

He breaks the eye contact and tries to tuck his head under the desk. But then he realises Mr Cookton is walking toward them.

He hears the man's slightly laboured breath, feels his hand hovering over Diamond's back, skin bare with Slayton's hand rucking his shirt up the nape of his neck, over the spot where his cockhead is throbbing red and raw like a wound in his throat, or at least, that's how it feels.

Before Diamond can even gasp, Mr Cookton's hand darts down, dry smooth skin like fake leather cleaving their coupled bodies to grip both pairs of testicles where they're mashed together, Diamond's small high and tight, Slayton's fat swinging low, chafing them together in his spider-fingered hand.

Slayton curses and his thrusts pause, dick buried almost all the way in Diamond's torso. He breathes so hard into Diamond's hair he can feel the heat on his scalp.

`Are you going to come inside him, Slayton?' Mr Cookton asks, like it's a fucking math equation. Like he doesn't have two sets of sweaty teenage testes nestled in his dry palm.

Slayton makes a groan, like a noise of actual pain. Diamond can feel how fiercely he's straining to hold himself back. He's vibrating everywhere, including in the core of Diamond innards. Diamond is almost about to come himself.

`I—I don't know, sir.'

Diamond cranes to turn his head, to meet his boyfriend's glassy dilated gaze and shakes his head furiously. No.

As hot as that cuntwhore part of him gets at the thought of Slayton spunking him up with that hot sticky baby-batter of his, Diamond doesn't want kids, and he sure as hell doesn't want them at fifteen.

`It's your decision to make, Slayton. Yours alone.' Mr Cookton's voice is perfectly cool. He's still holding their balls.

Just as Diamond's about to speak, to remind his lover that so much more than an orgasm is at stake, the teacher gives their sacks a firmer squeeze. And, for Slayton at least, that seems to decide matters.

When Slayton first felt his teacher's spidery hands inching toward his nads, he wanted to deck the creep. Now he thinks he'd punch the old fucker if he let go. The pressure on his balls from the man's hand somehow makes the pressure on his shaft from Diamond's asspussy more intense. God fuck the child it's weird but it's good.

The very strangeness of it is exciting. It was like when they tried a new thing in sex, like the first time he'd stuck his cock in Diamond in front of other people, or in a place where other people usually were. At first it had just been weird, but then as they'd done it more and thought about it more, the more he wanted to do it, until he had to do it.

And right now, he had to breed Diamond's fertile cunt full of his young and finally make him properly his bitch.

`Shut up and take my seed.'

As he says it, he's already coming.

The shells blast through the cannon, making supernovas in Slayton's mind. His legs buckle, his asshole squints up to a microscopic dot, his nuts squeeze together like a pair of wrinkly old-woman tits, and his breath rushes out in half a grunt and half a roar as all that nasty squidgy pasty warm teeming wet that's been brewing in his balls since he woke up with is firing out so fast it makes him dizzy, so fast and so much it actually stings his piss-slit but fuck if it ain't the best fuckin feeling the world.

BOOM
BOOM
BOOM

Jesusfucking_shit_ he's never come so much in his life.

He feels Diamond tremble, then fall still beneath him, slumping across the desk. Slayton can't stop himself from following after, crushing his limp overheated form hard into the wood as he fucks in those last few sadistic inches, just to make goddamn sure it took. Diamond's cunt sucks and slobbers around his pulsating shaft like a dribbling senile mouth, drooling wads of frothy sperm to the floor. Slayton can feel the come-bubbles bursting over his stones, can hear the obscene squelches and smell the stink of his own nut splattering over the floor. Diamond's sex has never sounded so disgusting and Slayton has never been so aroused by him.

Shit. He's still coming. He can't fucking stop.

It has to be at least a minute of a more-or-less continuous climax before Slayton's gut unclenches and his prick finally stopped twitching. Fuck. He feels kind of light-headed, or maybe it's just the triumph of having finally claimed Diamond, and in front the teacher, too, and all the other boys who ever side-eyed his bitch.

Diamond can't ever be anything but his, now. He's gonna have his fucking babies.

Part of him wants to cry at the thought; a bigger part wants to throw back his head and beat his chest and howl.

What he doesn't want to do is hurt Diamond, not anymore, or even punish or humiliate him. The furious need for domination, the cruel gloating triumph, has departed him with his load, leaving only a tender exaltation.

His love is sniffling, fussing a little as Slayton rocks his still- prick into his slimy, puffy come-chute. Slayton becomes abruptly conscious, as he always is only at the end of their coupling, of his own size and weight, of how uncomfortable Diamond must be, trapped between him and the unforgiving surface of the desk.

But he doesn't pull back or straighten up. Instead, he bends down to kiss Diamond's neck and stroke his prick to milk out the last dribs of the climax that must have started of its own accord while he was coming. Since he is victorious, he can afford to be magnanimous. Diamond is his, now. Completely his. There'll be no back-and-forth, no push-and-pull or give-and-take anymore. This is it, this is them, forever.

These were Diamonds thoughts as well.

This is it. It's done. It's over.

The thought of what's happened, and even more of what's to come, is as much for his mind to contain as Slayton's cock is for his ass. It can't be done. It's too massive, too unyielding. He struggles against the weight of his new destiny but in end just has to lie there and take it. Whatever will be is up to Slayton now. He's big enough to carry both of them.

Slayton groans lightly, his breath rustling the sweat-damp locks clinging to Diamond's ear. His cock swells again, stretching Diamond's sphincter for the umpteenth time as he spills yet another scalding load into Diamond's forever-fucked-open womb.

Diamond feels his insides heat as his true love's cock plasters them with yet more of his future children and wonders what the rest of his life will be.

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