Omg slut play hartwin. I’m thinking they both get off on the humiliation and shame of it, Harry casually commenting how eggsy is letting Harry ruin him….

Harry clicks with his tongue in a disapproving manner and slaps Eggsy’s ass once – and sharp at that. Eggsy immediately stills and draws in a startled breath, head turning so he can look back at Harry over his shoulder.

The flush that Harry had seen rising into the boy’s chest earlier had now crawled into his throat and face. Eggsy looks feverish.

“I said you are to remain still,” he reiterates with a dangerous undertone that has Eggsy’s mouth drop open, muscles squeezing down on Harry’s cock. Christ, the lad was feeling like sin; clinging to him like wet silk.

He digs his fingers into the red, plump cheek of Eggsy’s ass and listens to his delirious groan as he slowly starts pulling out, eyes sliding in a leisurely pace from the boy’s face towards where his wet cock was slowly sliding out of the swollen, mouthing muscle.

“It’s hard for you to obey when you have a cock inside you, isn’t it? You want to feel it everywhere all at once. You’re quite the greedy trollop, aren’t you, boy?”

Harry stares at the way Eggsy’s ass stretches around the broad ridge of his cock’s head and feels his balls jerk up almost painfully at the sound Eggsy makes. It is an uncoordinated kind of moan. Groggy and wet – like his boy has started drooling, body going lax and even hotter beneath Harry’s hand braced in the small of his back.

“Christ, but you’re letting me ruin you… would you look at that…” Harry wishes he had kept his glasses on – had a better angle to record how Eggsy’s body was swallowing up his thumb alongside his dick, other than the camera next to the bed.

Eggsy was yowling at the new stretch but didn’t pull away – just let Harry do to him as he pleased, even if that entailed stretching his hole until it was sloppy and gaping; soft enough so Harry could slide back in and fuck another load into him a couple hours later during tea time if he so damned well pleased to do so.

“Why should I pay for a used up specimen such as yourself?” Harry asks finally; almost conversationally. He fucks Eggsy first on his thumb, then with his dick; just to hear the boy howl and feel him clench, trying to force the intrusion out – or suckle him in, which was more likely. When the position gets too awkward, he pulls the digit out in favor of smacking Eggsy’s thighs some more. Get them pink and listen to the boy’s little yapping cries.

Eggsy doesn’t answer. He seems beyond anything other than just taking the abuse – his cock feels almost too hard and too wet against Harry’s wrist whenever he reaches down and drags fingernails across the tight belly, and pulls on the thin hair he finds beneath his navel.

“I think,” he announces, voice a little shaky and breathless, “I shan’t pay. I’ll use you and fill you and leave you lying here for your next… suitor. Just like the slut you are.”

Eggy nearly chokes on his drool as he comes, back bend through like a cat and toes cramping as he pulses around Harry and falls apart.

For the small prompts if you’re still doing it? How about Harry Hart training his sweet virgin candidate Eggsy for future honeypot missions, full of both rimming and hole spanking? Maybe even some humiliation kink if you’d like. Or even some praising? Telling Eggsy how good he is, how good he will be for all those unsuspecting marks in the future? Hope this helps! <3

“Fu-”

The fingers were pressing down harder onto his prostate in warning and Eggsy just about managed to stop the expletive with another one. “Bollocks!” he positively screamed, head falling down and drops of sweat flinging from the ends of his hair.

“I need… I need…” He hunched his hips into the movements of the relentless, patient fingers inside of him. He felt like he needed to… to take a dump or something? No. The feeling was insistent and right there in his belly; behind his pelvis. A pressure that has been increasing steadily until it was nigh unbearable. His balls were hurting and his cock felt like an overstuffed, hot sausage. He wanted to touch it but Harry was keeping him on his toes – pressing enough from behind that he had to actively brace himself, fingers digging violently at the floor.

“Harry, I need-”

“Hold on. Not yet.”

Eggsy felt like crying. His face felt hot and his muscles were trembling from exertion. He wasn’t even feeling horrified anymore – well, maybe a bit – at Harry simply rolling up the sleeve of his primly pressed dress shirt and telling him to drop on all fours. That his “… let us call it stamina is surprisingly abysmal, dear boy. And I feel like having you drop out of the training at this point just because of a lack of experience in the more carnal activities, feels like a dreadful waste of time and disservice to all of us.”

There already was a little puddle of cum on the floor beneath him and he was sure, absolutely certain that there wasn’t any more left in his poor, throbbing balls. Only that he also felt certain that he had to come within the next minute or he was going to go insane.

His prostate was suddenly a constant presence of which he was very aware. He was sure he’d never forget it again – that swollen gland that Harry had been manipulating with clever, long fingers. (He felt like he’d be able to find it again later; in the silence of the barracks he slept with everybody else when the others had already gone to sleep.)

Harry was, as always, infuriatingly calm.

“You are doing so very well. You are a fast learner, just like your father…”

And fuck him if having his father brought up in this situation – the man who had trained him fingering him deep and well – wasn’t making him even hotter; blood boiling and belly tickling with a strange, bubbling sensation that felt like pride and lust all mixed up.

“Sssshhh,” Harry soothed and one hand was gently rubbing along Eggsy’s sweaty back. He hadn’t even realized he was making sounds – a low, desperate keening that sounded so strained and forlorn, he nearly had pity on himself.

His knees were bending, hips bopping up and down. He hadn’t been able to stay on his knees for long; soon after Harry had begun circling his prostate with sure, even strokes, he’d gone up on the balls of his feet, unable to stay still for more than a second.

He could see Harry watching him in the mirror’s in front and to the side of them and he was sure he looked stupid as hell; face red and ass bouncing in the air, trying to fuck fingers that stayed lodged deeply; just tickling him with cruel accuracy from the inside. Eggsy wasn’t even properly getting fucked and he still had come like a train for Harry, and it was embarrassing and making him aggressive – but he didn’t have a breath to articulate it because he was making that fuckstupid bollocks keening sound.

Harry didn’t look put out with it. He simply watched with a poker face – maybe there was a light dampening of sweat around his hairline – and kept fingering Eggsy; milking him….

…and telling him he still had to hold on. Still had to stay put where he was and wait for Harry’s sign.

He could see his dick when he turned his head and looked in the mirror next to them. It was there below his belly, bouncing with him and looking red and chubby and like it hurt – because it did.

And suddenly there was Harry’s voice “Now.”, and his fingers were gone and nothing at all was touching him, and Eggsy could feel something tickling his cheeks as he screamed with a hoarse voice, tendons in his neck standing out as he came one last time.

(Later he realized he’d begun to bawl like a little kid; much, much later when he saw himself on the video feed they kept for a keepsake.)

It felt like he had to come in streams and streams, but in reality just a few watery-clear dribbles were bubbling from the tip of his swollen cock before his shaking muscles finally gave out and he sank to the floor, turning on his side and curling into a tight, shivering ball gasping for breath.

He could feel Harry’s soothing hand slowly petting his drenched hair and then down his side.

“Good boy,” he said and fuck if Eggsy didn’t feel another twitch in his plump, poor cock.

tell us more about your whiny bratty eggsy feelings! :D

I feel like it would have started when he was ill one time and realized that a certain tone of voice would get him just anything from Harry and even a little extra pampering.

It was good enough to make him pretend like he was still sick when in reality he felt pretty good already. He just never wanted it to stop. He always wanted to be able to roll on his side and whimper until Harry came over and started rubbing his belly; or make silent grabby hands at him and not be chastised for being too childish.

Eventually he did need to stop being sick, though, and the following two weeks were some of the worst in his life because he had just such a sudden need for being pampered and someone tending to his every need. It took him a while to realize that the special treatment wasn’t a special thing just because he was sick, but that he could have it whenever he wanted.

That he just needed to pitch his voice just so and Harry’s face would fall – well, as much as that was possible with Harry – and he would get a little special attention.

He’d get his belly rubbed (and, subsequently, if he started rocking his hips into it, his cock), he’d get hand fed all those unhealthy treats he loved, he’d be able to stick his head beneath Harry’s sweater and rub his face against him, just as much as he liked (because Harry always smelled so fucking good)

And on one memorable, magical occasion, he even got carried upstairs; with Harry’s big, long fingered hands under his bottom, holding him – and rocking him just a little