Chapter 1: That funny feeling

The air inside the high school gymnasium tasted like sweat and rubber mats. Hazu crouched low, his dark blue fur damp against the spandex wrestling singlet as he circled Zeke. Across from him, Zeke’s brown fur gleamed under the fluorescent lights, his tail twitching with focus. Their coach’s whistle shrieked, and Hazu lunged—only for Zeke to twist, trapping him in a headlock. Hazu’s face smashed into Zeke’s lower back, nose buried in the taut fabric stretched over Zeke’s round ass. The unexpected warmth and musk flooded Hazu’s senses, his own tiny bulge pressing against the singlet’s crotch seam.

Zeke shifted his grip, grinding Hazu deeper into the curve of his rear. Hazu’s breath hitched—the friction sparked a strange, liquid heat low in his belly. Beneath him, Zeke’s thighs trembled faintly; Hazu could feel the subtle pulse of Zeke’s balls shifting against his cheek through the thin material. When Zeke finally released him, both cubs scrambled apart, avoiding each other’s eyes. Hazu’s white singlet clung obscenely to his underdeveloped package, outlining every ridge and dip, while Zeke’s blue one did little to hide the hardening swell between his legs.

Coach Thompson clapped briskly. "Good aggression, Zeke! Hazu, work on your escapes." His praise hung in the air as the boys peeled off their singlets, tossing them into gym bags. Alone now in the echoing locker room, Hazu tugged at his tight white boxers, trying to ease the chafing against his smooth teal-furred groin. Across the bench, Zeke’s blue boxers strained against a more prominent bulge, the fabric tenting where his pink-tipped cockhead nudged against it. Hazu’s gaze lingered—long enough for Zeke to catch him staring, a smirk playing on his muzzle.

Chapter 2: Discovery

Silence stretched, thick as the humidity clinging to the tiles. Zeke leaned against a locker, arms crossed, his tail flicking lazily. "You felt it too, hm?" His voice was low, almost casual, but his eyes burned with something raw. Hazu froze, fingers clenched around his waistband. Confusion warred with the memory of Zeke’s ass pressed against him—the heat, the ache. He swallowed hard. "F-Felt what-?" The lie tasted sour, but the unfamiliar flutter in his chest terrified him more than any takedown.

Zeke pushed off the locker, stepping closer. The gap between them vanished, leaving Hazu acutely aware of the damp fur on Zeke’s stomach and the distinct swell tenting his blue boxers. Hazu’s own tiny bulge seemed to shrink further beneath his white fabric. Zeke’s muzzle curled into a knowing grin. "The wrestling. That... closeness." His gaze dipped, lingering on Hazu’s groin, then trailed slowly up his lean torso. Hazu’s ears flattened, tail puffing slightly. He’d never stared at another cub like this—never wanted to. Yet his eyes were drawn irresistibly to the prominent outline beneath Zeke’s waistband, the faint pulse visible where the fabric hugged his sac.

Slowly, deliberately, Zeke reached out. Not touching Hazu directly—not yet. His knuckles brushed the thin cotton straining over Hazu’s thigh, then drifted higher, tracing the subtle curve just below Hazu’s soft belly fur. Hazu froze, breath catching. The touch was feather-light, yet it ignited sparks across his skin. He could see the faint twitch in Zeke’s own bulge, straining against blue fabric. "It’s okay," Zeke murmured, his voice husky. Hazu’s trembling fingers hovered near Zeke’s hip, hesitating before ghosting over the firm swell outlined by the boxers. The fabric felt warm, alive. Beneath it, Zeke’s cock gave a distinct throb, nudging against Hazu’s hesitant touch.

Hazu’s own groin remained stubbornly soft despite the frantic drumming of his heart. Panic fluttered—why wasn’t his body reacting? Zeke’s smirk widened, confident. He slid his hand lower, palm cupping the slight mound beneath Hazu’s boxers, fingers pressing gently into the yielding softness where Hazu’s small balls lay nestled. Hazu gasped, a jolt shooting through him—not arousal, but bewildered surprise. "See?" Zeke whispered, his thumb rubbing slow circles through the thin white cotton. Hazu felt the pressure, the warmth... but his own flesh stayed frustratingly limp beneath the fabric, a stark contrast to Zeke’s hardening outline pressing insistently against Hazu’s exploring fingers.

Chapter 3: The Tease

Zeke’s breath hitched, hips shifting forward into Hazu’s tentative touch. "Focus," he murmured, his other hand drifting to Hazu’s waistband. He hooked a finger under the elastic, tugging it away from Hazu’s smooth teal-furred skin before releasing it with a soft *snap* against his hip. Hazu flinched, eyes widening. Zeke’s touch returned, this time kneading deliberately—not Hazu’s shaft, but the vulnerable swell of his sac beneath the clinging cotton. He rolled Hazu’s tiny nuts gently, firmly, his thumb pressing rhythmic circles against the soft, hidden flesh. Hazu’s breath came in shallow gasps; the sensation was strange, intense... almost ticklish. Beneath the fabric, his little balls shifted and tightened, responding to the kneading pressure, yet his cock remained stubbornly small, unmoved. Frustration prickled Zeke’s muzzle—why wasn’t Hazu hardening? He intensified the kneading, fingers working the delicate pouch with more insistence.

Hazu whimpered, a confusing mix of discomfort and fascination knotting his stomach. His own fingers, still resting on Zeke’s tented blue bulge, felt the insistent pulse quicken—a distinct throb against his palm, a damp spot blooming where Zeke’s tip strained against the fabric. The sharp scent of musk thickened in the humid air. Zeke leaned closer, his muzzle brushing Hazu’s ear. "Feel that? How hard you’re making me?" Hazu stared at the damp patch on Zeke’s boxers, the frantic twitching just beneath. He wanted that ache, that fire... but his own body felt numb, disconnected. Shame washed over him. "I... I don’t think I can, >w<" he whispered, voice trembling. Zeke’s gaze hardened, a flicker of curiosity and attraction crossing his face, he liked this cat; he wanted to help him explore his sexuality. He released Hazu’s groin, stepping back slightly. "M-maybe," Hazu awkwardly murmured, eyes locked on his own soft, small bulge, "I-I need something... h-harder."

Chapter 4: Am I playing with dough or is your pee-pee that soft?

A slow, predatory smile spread across Zeke’s muzzle. He understood instantly. "Harder?" His tail lashed once, sharp and decisive. Without warning, his fingers curled into a loose fist, knuckles pressing firmly against Hazu’s tiny bulge through the thin white cotton. Hazu gasped—not arousal, but sharp surprise—as the pressure pushed his vulnerable sac against his pelvis. Zeke watched intently, searching for any flicker of response. Nothing. He shifted his approach, his knuckles rubbing firm circles directly over Hazu’s sack. Frustration twisted Zeke’s features. He needed more. His palm flattened abruptly, pressing down with steady, increasing force—a slow squash against the soft mound. Hazu's junk mushed against his pelvis, everything still soft. His breath hitched, a tiny, involuntary tremor running through his chubby thighs as his balls compressed beneath his skin. The sensation was strange, intense... almost overwhelming. Still no hardness. His eyes widened with confusion.

"Not enough," Zeke growled, eyes blazing. His thumb slid beneath Hazu’s waistband, hooking the elastic down just an inch—enough to expose a sliver of the top of his soft, smooth teal-furred penis. Zeke tickled the small bundle of teal pubic fur, Hazu giggling in response. Before Hazu could react, Zeke’s other hand snapped forward—not a slap, but a sharp, staccato tap against the small bulge with his fingertips. *Tap-tap-tap.* Each impact jolted Hazu’s groin, making his tiny nuts jump and shrivel tight against his body inside the fabric prison. A whine escaped Hazu’s lips—pure instinct, not pleasure. Zeke’s gaze dropped, watching the frantic ripple beneath the white cotton. Was that... a twitch? His own bulge throbbed painfully against his blue boxers. He leaned in, breath hot on Hazu’s neck. "Tell me what you want, you sexy cat." Hazu’s voice was a ragged whisper, "M-make it... hurt... p-please!" Hazu nearly forgot his manners.

Zeke’s smirk turned dangerous. He lifted Hazu’s balls firmly through the damp fabric, fingers pinching the delicate pouch upward, stretching the skin taut. Hazu yelped—a genuine sting this time—as his small, smooth sac was pulled tight against the cotton. Zeke held him there, suspended, watching Hazu’s face contort. Then, slowly, deliberately, he pushed his thumb deep into the lifted mound, grinding down with brutal pressure. "Uhhhgnnnh-!" Hazu moaned. His hips bucked—not from pleasure, but primal panic. Beneath the white fabric, his trapped balls pulsed frantically, a frantic, trapped flutter against the crushing thumb. Finally, a tiny, desperate hardness stirred against Zeke’s palm—barely there, tiny, fragile, but undeniable. Zeke’s triumphant grin flashed sharp teeth. "There you are boy."

Chapter 5: Zeke's new toy

Zeke released the crushing pressure, his thumb lingering possessively over Hazu’s trembling bulge. The faint hardness beneath the cotton pulsed—small, tentative, but thrillingly real. Hazu whimpered, thighs trembling, his teal-furred groin slick with nervous sweat against the white fabric. Zeke’s claws hooked the waistband, peeling Hazu’s boxers down past his hips in one fluid motion. The cool locker room air prickled Hazu’s exposed skin as his underdeveloped cock sprang free—pink-tipped, slender, and stiffening rapidly now. Zeke’s gaze burned; he dropped to his knees, muzzle inches from Hazu’s cute, twitching, tiny shaft... Zeke ran his fingers down Hazu's inner thigh, making Hazu shudder. Without preamble, his tongue flicked out—rough, hot—lapping a wet stripe from base to tip. Hazu cried out, claws scrabbling against a locker door as pleasure jolted through him. Zeke swallowed him whole, his muzzle working with hungry suction, cheeks hollowing. Hazu felt the wet heat envelop him, the scrape of teeth grazing his delicate skin, the rhythmic pulse of Zeke’s throat swallowing around him. His untouched balls tightened high and tight against his body, those frantic little balls begging for attention.

Zeke pulled off with a wet pop, saliva stringing between his mouth and Hazu’s shaft. "Feel good?" His fingers were already kneading Hazu’s small, smooth sac—rolling his nuts firmly, possessively. Hazu could only nod, breath ragged, hips jerking forward instinctively. Zeke grinned, feral. He shifted lower, his finger tracing the sensitive seam behind Hazu’s balls before pressing firmly against his epididymus and then into his tight butthole. Hazu gasped, tail lashing wildly as the intrusion breached him—slow, insistent. Hazu's chubby, plump butt warped out of the way for Zeke's invasion. Zeke’s thumbs dug into Hazu’s cheeks, holding him still as his finger probed deeper, circling, thrusting. The dual assault—mouth on his cock, finger in his ass—sent dizzying sparks through Hazu’s spine. His neglected balls ached, bouncing lightly with each ragged breath. "M-more," Hazu begged, voice cracking. Zeke obliged, sucking him back in deep while his finger fucked him harder, faster.

Hazu’s climax built like a tremor—deep in his belly, far away, but tightening unbearably. It was going to be a challenged to get him to his first orgasm. He cried out, a high-pitched keen, as Zeke’s fingers abandoned his ass to grip his balls firmly. Zeke squeezed, not cruelly yet, but with possessive pressure, massaging the frantic pouch as Hazu’s hips bucked wildly and his butt clashed against the lockers. The sensation—pleasure fused with a sharp, grounding ache—tipped Hazu over the edge. He came with a choked sob, spurting thin, hot streams onto the warm tiles. Zeke tried to keep it going, his thumb grinding slow circles into Hazu’s oversensitive balls. When Hazu finally sagged against the lockers, trembling and spent, Zeke rose. His own blue boxers strained obscenely, soaked with precum at the tip. He knew Hazu still had several loads in him, he was 12 after all... all that cum building up inside him. "My turn," Hazu rasped, pupils blown wide.

Chapter 6: Hazu's turn

Hazu slid down the locker door, legs wobbly, fur plastered with sweat. He stared up at Zeke—at the desperate tenting in those blue boxers, the wet patch spreading wider. Nervousness warred with a fierce, newfound determination. He pushed himself forward on unsteady knees, claws scraping tile. Zeke’s tail thumped impatiently against a bench as Hazu’s trembling fingers hooked the waistband. Hazu pulled the boxers down slowly, revealing Zeke’s cock—thicker than his own, but still small, flushed dark pink, straining upward, precum glistening on the tip. Hazu hesitated, then leaned in, mimicking what Zeke had done. His tongue flicked tentatively against the slick head. Zeke hissed, hips jerking. Emboldened, Hazu took him deeper, the salty tang flooding his muzzle. He bobbed clumsily, cheeks hollowing, trying to match Zeke’s earlier rhythm. Zeke groaned, fingers tangling roughly in Hazu’s messy blue hair, guiding him deeper. "Oh my- aunnnhg-!" he moaned, thrusting shallowly into Hazu’s mouth. Hazu gagged slightly but persisted, tongue swirling, sucking harder.

Zeke pulled back abruptly, panting. "Not just that," he growled, turning Hazu roughly around. Hazu gasped, paws braced against the cold lockers as Zeke knelt behind him, spreading his plump cheeks. Hazu felt the wet, probing pressure again—but this time, it wasn’t Zeke’s finger. The blunt, slick head of Zeke’s cock pressed against his loosened hole. Hazu whimpered, claws scraping metal, as Zeke pushed inside with a single, relentless thrust. The stretch burned, intense and overwhelming, filling him completely. Zeke groaned, hips flush against Hazu’s trembling ass, balls slapping against Hazu’s soft teal-furred sac with each shallow grind. Hazu’s own tiny cock twitched against the locker door, dripping fresh precum onto the tiles beneath them.

Zeke’s thrusts deepened, rhythmic and possessive. One paw gripped Hazu’s hip while the other slid beneath him, fingers wrapping around Hazu’s slick shaft. He jerked him in time with his thrusts—rough, demanding strokes that made Hazu’s knees buckle. The dual sensation was dizzying: the deep, stretching fullness in his ass and the tight friction on his cock. Zeke’s breath came in hot gasps against Hazu’s neck. "Ffffeel good?" he snarled, punctuating each word with a sharp snap of his hips. Hazu could only nod, moaning as Zeke’s thumb swiped roughly over his leaking tip. He was close again, balls drawing up tight, quivering against the relentless impact of Zeke’s heavier sac.

Zeke’s rhythm faltered, his thrusts turning frantic, erratic. With a guttural groan, he buried himself deep, hips shuddering as warmth flooded Hazu’s insides. Hazu cried out as Zeke’s paw tightened viciously around his shaft, pumping him through his own climax. Thin spurts striped the locker door as Hazu collapsed forward, Zeke’s softening cock slipping out of him. They lay tangled on the damp tiles, chests heaving, the sharp scent of sex thick in the air. Zeke traced a claw lazily over Hazu’s spent, sticky balls. "Still soft?" he murmured, a teasing edge in his voice. Hazu shook his head weakly, a shy smile touching his muzzle.

They stood up, still horny. Hazu watched Zeke pull his blue boxers back on, the fabric straining anew against his damp fur. He fingered the waistband of his own discarded white underwear, a flicker of anticipation tightening his stomach. "Zeke?" His voice was small but clear. "Can we... do it again? But..." He hesitated, tail twitching nervously. "...through the undies this time? Harder? >///W///<" Zeke’s eyes gleamed, a slow, dark smile spreading across his face. He tossed Hazu’s underwear at him. "Put ‘em on."

Chapter 7: Who knew such tiny balls could deliver such a huge load?

Hazu tugged the white boxers back on, the damp fabric clinging instantly to his sensitive skin. Zeke circled him like a shark, claws tracing the waistband before snapping the elastic sharply against Hazu's hipbone. Hazu yelped, tail puffing—already his tiny bulge twitched beneath the cotton. Zeke’s paw flattened possessively over the mound, fingers digging in with deliberate pressure, kneading Hazu’s soft sac through the thin barrier. Hazu gasped as his balls were mashed against his pelvis, the ache blooming sharp and sweet. "Still want it harder?" Zeke growled, grinding his palm in slow, brutal circles. Hazu nodded frantically, claws digging into the locker behind him.

Zeke dropped to his knees. His claws lifted the waistband up to his belly button, stretching his gonads taut. "This is so much better than boobs! I love feeling the protrusion instead of a pussy!" Zeke exclaimed. He flicked the tip of his tongue against the outline of Hazu’s tiny sack—once, twice—before sinking his teeth gently into the vulnerable pouch. Hazu cried out, hips jerking as teeth scraped cotton and trapped flesh. Zeke sucked hard, the wet fabric plastering itself to Hazu’s skin, outlining every ridge and pulse of his frantic little balls beneath the pressure. Hazu’s cock strained against its confines, a damp spot spreading as precum soaked through. The wetness made it so you could slightly see the teal fur of his genitals through the fabric.

"Watch this," Zeke breathed, releasing the suction with a wet sound. He bunched a fistful of the soaked fabric, twisting it tight around Hazu’s shaft and balls like a tourniquet. Hazu whimpered, toes curling against cold tile as his trapped flesh throbbed. Zeke tugged downward—hard—dragging Hazu’s entire groin in a sharp, stinging pull. The twisted fabric dug into tender skin, his balls squashed tight against his shaft. Hazu gasped, "A-again!". Zeke obliged, yanking twice more, each tug wrenching a choked sob from Hazu’s throat. His thighs trembled violently, the young teenage fat of his inner thighs jiggling.

Zeke’s claw hooked the waistband again. "Time for a lift." He jerked the elastic skyward in one brutal motion, hauling Hazu’s boxers—and everything inside—high up his ass. Hazu cried out, spine arching painfully as the fabric sliced into his rippling butt crack and lifted his balls taut against his butt cheeks. The pressure mounted, exquisite and agonizing. "You like it?" Zeke snarled, kneading and rubbing the uplifted bulge through the cotton. Hazu could only nod frantically, tears pricking his eyes. His trapped cock leaked freely, darkening the fabric plastered to his tip as his taut nuts got a massage.

Without warning, Zeke released the waistband. Hazu sagged forward, precum spurting from his penis, gulping air. Before he could recover, Zeke’s knuckles drove deep into his groin—a brutal grinding pressure against his vulnerable sac. Hazu screamed, legs buckling as his balls flattened beneath the assault. Zeke leaned his weight into it, crushing Hazu’s softness against pelvic bone. Hazu’s hips bucked wildly, a desperate, involuntary response. A loud CRACK echoed through the room. Something was beginning to break inside. Beneath the tortured cotton, his shaft strained rigid, a damp, teal-furred outline screaming for release.

Chapter 8: Barely Holding On

Zeke ripped the ruined underwear down Hazu’s trembling thighs. The cool air hit Hazu’s slick, exposed flesh—his short cock stood rigid, dripping, his smooth balls drawn tight and high. Zeke gripped Hazu’s slender shaft, pumping rough, dry strokes. His other hand closed around Hazu’s delicate sac, fingers squeezing with brutal, possessive pressure. Hazu gasped, a thin, reedy sound. The crushing grip intensified, grinding his tender nuts as Zeke’s fist pistoned faster.

"Not yet," Zeke snarled. He released Hazu’s shaft abruptly, focusing solely on the fragile pouch. His fingers dug deep, kneading, rolling the frantic orbs beneath thin skin—testing their limits. Hazu whimpered, toes curling against the tile. Then Zeke lifted Hazu’s balls high, stretching the skin taut. He slammed his fist upward into the suspended sac. *Thwump*. Hazu cried out, knees buckling. The impact reverberated through his pelvis.

Zeke caught him, shoving him chest-first against the cracked locker door. He pinned Hazu’s hips, fingers returning to the abused pouch. This time, his thumb pressed deep, grinding into the soft flesh just behind Hazu’s balls—a relentless, circular pressure against his perineum. Hazu’s breath hitched, claws scrabbling metal. Precum spattered the locker in frantic pulses. The dual assault—crushing front, probing rear—sent shockwaves up Hazu’s spine.

Without warning, Zeke hauled Hazu backwards. His knees slammed onto the padded leather of the gym’s low balance beam. Zeke forced him down, balls-first, onto the narrow ridge. Hazu moaned. The beam dug mercilessly into his soft sac, compressing everything beneath his weight. Zeke leaned over him, pressing Hazu’s trembling torso flat against the beam, adding his own weight to the pressure. His balls were pancaking against the unforgiving beam. A sharp, sickening *crunch* echoed beneath Hazu’s whimper. Hazu froze, breath trapped in his throat. "I- aughg- th- th- think they b-broke-! unh..."

Zeke yanked him upright, Hazu’s legs buckling. He pulled his back flush against his chest. Zeke’s rigid cock slid between Hazu’s sweat-slicked cheeks, nestling against his loosened hole. One arm wrapped possessively around Hazu’s waist; the other seized Hazu’s neglected shaft, stroking it with rough, urgent strokes. Zeke’s fingers found Hazu’s battered balls again, squeezing—gentler now, but with ominous promise. Hazu gasped, leaning back into Zeke’s heat, every nerve alight.

“You're so close...” Zeke whispered, lips brushing Hazu’s ear. His grip tightened incrementally on Hazu’s swollen sac, grinding the bruised flesh beneath his palm. The pressure mounted—deep, penetrating—as if Zeke sought to feel each fractured piece inside. Hazu whimpered, hips jerking against Zeke’s encircling arm, his cock leaking thickly onto Zeke’s furred knuckles. “Almost…”

Zeke slammed his knee upwards into Hazu’s lifted groin—a brutal, jarring impact. A crunch and a squelch echoed through the room. At the same moment, he thrust sharply into Hazu’s fold, grinding hard against his entrance. Hazu’s scream tore through the locker room. His body convulsed violently, his small, freshly jerked cock erupting. Ropes of cum splattered the balance beam beneath them, pooling on the padded leather. Hazu sagged, trembling uncontrollably. Zeke rotated around to Hazu's front, and pressed his slightly larger nuts against Hazu's during his orgasm. He hugged him tightly as cum spurted up onto their torsos. "You're the cutest boy I've ever met," Zeke mumbled. "I l-lo.. love..." Hazu couldn't even get out what he wanted to say.

Zeke shoved Hazu forward onto the beam again, balls-first. Hazu cried out weakly as his ruined sac hit the unforgiving ridge. Zeke knelt behind him, jerking his own slick shaft furiously against Hazu’s plump buttocks. His thrusts grew frantic, hips pistoning. With a guttural roar, he slammed home against Hazu’s cheeks, semen flooding Hazu’s butt fur. Zeke collapsed over him, breath ragged, as Hazu’s spent balls throbbed against the leather beneath them.

They lay tangled on the locker room floor, semen cooling on fur and tile. Hazu traced a trembling claw over Zeke’s softening bulge through his blue boxers. "Again next week?" he murmured, voice raw. Zeke grinned lazily, tail thumping. "Yeah." Hazu reached over and playfully slapped Zeke's sensitive balls, "You're getting it next week."