Everett Fags for Martius

by Caius Martius <Caius_martius@hotmail.com>

Everett shuffled nervously in the cold and draughty corridor, hesitatiing to knock on the heavy wooden door before him. He had no idea why he had been called to Martius' study so late in the evening, nor how the handwritten instruction from the prefect had got into his locker. He only knew that from the day he had been dropped off at the school gates, the dark boy with the piercing blue eyes from the Lower Sixth had transfixed him.

Martius was not from a particularly good family, Everett knew. His scolarship had won him entrance to the school almost five years before and since then he had worked relentlessly - both in the library and on the rugger pitch. Martius held an almost hypnotic sway on most of the school - neither a Head of House nor a Senior Prefect it was amazing how he managed to have almost every one of the boys bend entirely to his will. It was as if his natural authority overcame all title or rank.

Having survived almost a whole term of his first year, Everett had spent vast tracts of his time in an attempt just to glimpse Martius in a corridor. He knew every single slot in his hero's timetable: knew exactly when to bump into him in the library, catch a stolen glance at his firm, slightly hairy buttocks in the showers or find him battling it out on the rugger pitch in his role as captain of the school's famously aggressive rugby team. Everett had even started to attend rugby matches, just to see Martius marshall the other boys in the squad, and walk off the pitch - usually victorious and usually with some form of bravely won injury. Only two weeks ago, Everett had been shocked when, during a friendly between Martius' House and his own, captained by the vile Wilson, Martius has sustained a broken nose and had to be carried off to the hospital wing.

Everett's first glimmer of hope had come last Sunday. Plucking up courage to send what he thought was an anonymous bunch of flowers to Martuis, still convalescing, the first year had almost passed out in chapel when Martius had turned round and there was one of the flowers in the buttonhole of his morning coat. Stalking out after the service, Martius had actually looked at Everett and, he fancied, smiled - his usually cold grey eyes turned to a deep shade of blue. Everett had dared not hope, but then this note had arrived...

Gingerly, he knocked.

'Come.' The voice was gruff, but quiet, and as he pushed the heavy door into Martius' study open, Everett saw that the room was dimly lit. Soft silk handkerchiefs had been placed over every lamp so that he could only see the broad-backed silhouette at the window, nothig more.

'You asked to see me, Martius?' he said quietly.

Martius whirled round, obviously incensed.

'No I _f_u_c_k_ing didn't Everett, I demanded to see you. Now close that door and step in.'

Everett, clad only in his regulation white PJ's and dressing gown couldn't help but notice that Martius was wearing jeans - strictly forbidden in the school - and a rumpled rugby jersey. The older boy's feet were bare and Everett, head bowed, just stared at them.

'Good. Sit down.'

Everett, scared witless by now, made for the nearest armchair.

'And take that _f_u_c_k_ing faggot dressing gown off. It's boiling in here.' Everett obeyed, hands trembling and fumbling with the cord. As his dressing gown fell to the floor, the chill in the room hit the first year. He was no longer sure whether he was trembling with cold, fear or anticipation.

'Right. As you know, I need a new fag. The last one - shall we say - burned himself out. I thought I'd give you the honour of interviewing for the post.'

'Th-thankyou, Martius.'

A small smile. 'You can call me Marsh.'

Although his eyes were still lowered, Everett could feel the older boy's own cold stare fixed on him. He looked up, and took in the broad chest and well defined thighs of the school's finest ever prop forward. He had never been this close to Martius before. He had seen him naked in the shower, knew that his chest was already covered with an thick covering of dark hair, knew that his nipples stood proud and erect, knew how the weight of his _c_o_c_k_ and balls made them swing slowly and lazily as he moved. But he had never smelled Martius before. The heavy musk of incipient manhood was cut by some gentle citrus scent Everett could not define. He was already feeling his own dick swell in response. He tried not to think about it, knowing how revealing these blasted school PJs could be.

When he looked up next, Martius was right in front of him. The older boy's thick thighs were straddling his own slighter ones and all Everett could see was a large and swelling bulge against the worn denim. He dared look no higher than the thick, black leather of Martius' belt.

'I have a somewhat unusual interview technique, Everett,' was all he heard before he saw Martius' hands unbuckle the belt and pull the zip down slowy. A large, thick and already moist _c_o_c_k_ was hefted into his view.


'But Martius, I...'

'And you can cut all the crap about never having done this before. I hear from the other prefects that you're quite good at it.'

It was true. During his first few weeks, Everett had been subjected to being on his knees in fromt of most of the Upper Sixth. Crude brutish boys who spat their come over his face and walked off, laughing. Then it had stopped, inexpicably.

'I sent them Everett. To break you in. To make sure that you were right for me. Do you think for a second you would have gotten off with stealing my rugger shorts, with staring at me in the showers all that time, unless I had wanted it? What did you do with them, by the way, the shorts.'

'I'm so sorry Martius, I just wanted to feel...'

The broad dry palm stroking his face was surprisingly gentle.

'It's all right. I know what you wanted. I still know what you want. Now suck.'

Everett did his best. Tried harder than ever before. He licked up the broad shaft, took the thick head in his mouth and, when instructed, lapped at Martius' balls until they were dripping with his saliva. Then Martius stood back, reaching a hand down into the flies of Everett's PJ's. He found the hard, straining _c_o_c_k_ that he had been expecting.

'Quite impressve, for such a small boy,' he grunted. 'Now take off the trousers and lie face down on my bed.'

Everett complied instantly, not knowing what was going to happen next, but hearing the unmistakable swish of a belt being removed from the loops of the illegal jeans.

'Even though I let you do it, Everett, I have to punish you for stealing my shorts. I got a detention over the fact that they were missing.'

Everett had only just opened his mouth to beg forgiveness when the first crashing blow landed on his buttocks. Martius was used to the knocks of the field and clearly was not aware of his own strength. Everett saw stars, but he bit down on the pillow, determined to show Martius that he was man - or boy - enough to take this. Fagging for his hero was his dream and he wasn't going to fall at the first hurdle.

Only when Martius was satisfied that Everett's arse was as hot and red as he wanted did he stop. Only when real tears of anguish were running down Everett's cheeks. Almost gently, he brushed the now hot leather of the belt against them, before savagely running his chin over the red mounds of Everett's arse. Martius had started to develop stubble, and Everett winced as it raked roughly over his tender cheeks.

Then Martius did something completely unexpected. Parting Everett's arse cheeks roughly with both hands, he thrust his hot toungue inside. Everett didn't know whether he was in heaven or hell, but didn't care, thrusting himself basck to impale himself more fully on Martius' tongue.

He heard, almost under Martius' breath: 'This is just the start of your training boy. Next it's my fingers, then my dick'. Martius' hands began gripping Everett's by now aching _c_o_c_k_, yanking roughly.

It only took a few seconds for the first year to shoot heavily on the blanket covering the bed. Martius scooped the clean, white jism up with the fingers of his right hand and fed it to his fag - for Everett had passed the interview.

'Don't you want to..?' said Everett, well mannered as ever.

'Plently time for that,' grunted Martius. 'You're staying here tonight,' the older boy said, lying down beside Everett.


'Wilson isn't expecting you back tonight. No-one's going to know. Most nights you'll have to go back to your dorm, but no-one else will touch you from now on. You're safe here now. You have an exeat this weekend - you're spending it with me.'

'You're nice, really, aren't you Martius?' whispered Everett as he snuggled down on the broad chest, its muscular hardness tempered by the layer of hair.

Ther reply was gruff.

'I like my toast buttered when it's still warm, Everett,' but Everett heard the smile in his hero's voice, and felt the gentle squeeze of the well honed biceps around him as he received his first ever real hug.

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