Never the Same Again Pt. 02

But he pushed me away, with more force than really necessary, causing me to stumble out of the bed and onto my feet. "I've had enough faggots pawing me for the night, thank you very much."

I held my breath and stared at him. I could not believe Tanner had just said that. The same Tanner who claimed to be totally supportive earlier that day. I know he was upset, but it didn't justify the slur. Not at all.

"Excuse me?"

"These fucking queers actually conspired with each other to do what they did to me tonight," he said, his voice raising. He caught himself and lowered his volume. "Not feeling very sympatric to the faggots right now."

"Tanner!" I called out, more authority in my voice than I expected. "Don't say that fucking word. I don't care how angry you are. It's not okay."

"Oh, you come out and now you're a fag crusader?" I could tell we were just riling each other up, but I was still dumbfounded at this about-face. Maybe these were Tanner's true colors, after all. All straight guys are the same, no matter how progressive they claim to be.

"You know, if you hadn't humped the drag queen and berated them, they wouldn't have done you dirty like that," I shot back at him. "And if you're gonna be a cocky asshole, at least have the cock to back it up."

Tanner's eyes widened. "I thought you were fucking someone in the bathroom."

"Yeah, but I was around long enough to see your microdick first. Really is a pity, that."

Tanner stammered, "Please, please don't tell anyone we know. I'm begging you here."

So many feelings were coursing through me then. I was still riding the horniness of watching Tanner's humiliation, the confidence I felt after Diego gave me that blowjob, and the righteous indignation from Tanner's use of the slur. In that moment, I made a decision -- one I wouldn't have made under even slightly different circumstances -- that would upend everything about Tanner's and my friendship.

I grabbed my phone from the nightstand and pulled up the photos and video I had taken of Tanner. Quickly, I backed them all up to the cloud. I sat back down next to Tanner and showed him the images -- the queens holding up their pinky fingers next to his soft cock; the video of Tanner's tiny load of cum dribbling out of his three-inch erection; the full-body shot after they doused him in cold water, his face recognizable despite the blindfold yet his genitals unrecognizable as a grown man's. It was the first time Tanner was really seeing what happened to him from the third-person point of view -- perhaps the first time he really had to drink in just how pathetic his little cock was.

I put my arm around Tanner again, squeezed him too tightly, and leaned in close. In a low voice, I told him, "I won't just tell our friends. I can show them. And I can make sure that everyone you know, anyone who so much as Googles you -- every potential date, every late-night Tinder booty call -- will know that you have a clit where your dick should be." I locked my phone, and put my hand on Tanner's chest. The hair was warm and wet from glitter and sweat. I could feel his heart racing. "If you would prefer that not happen, then I suggest you start doing exactly as I say from now on. It's about time we did things my way, for once -- starting with you apologizing for using that word."

Slowly, I started rubbing Tanner's chest. I couldn't help myself. I pinched one nipple, just a little, and then the other, with a lot more force. He winced. "You're right. I'm sorry."

"And you promise never to say anything like that again?"

"Yes," he said, emphatically, his voice cracking for the first time since I had met him.

"Yes...?"

Tanner gulped as he realized exactly what was happening. He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them and looked directly into mine.

"Yes, sir."