The Flesh Cartel (7 page)

“Please, sir,” he said, nodding his head and trying very, very hard not to squirm in Nikolai’s lap, on Nikolai’s cock, trying so hard not to chase both their pleasure. “Thank you, sir,” he added, because, God, he really
was
desperate, and he’d probably explode in seconds if not for Nikolai’s generous consideration.

Nikolai nodded once and kissed him, forceful but fast, then placed both hands back on his waist and rocked up into him. Dougie had thought he’d been fully seated, taken every inch, but God, there was always more with Nikolai, wasn’t there? More pain, more pleasure, more joy, more grief, more religious fucking ecstasy.

The minor discomfort of being breached by that impressive cock was gone by the third thrust beneath an onslaught of
fullnesspleasureyesexactlywhatIneedyes
, and Dougie pressed the soles of his feet against the rungs of the chair for leverage and rode Nikolai in time with the man’s urging hands at his waist. Rocking his whole body, his back and chest and ass all following the curve of Nikolai’s cock.

Nikolai bared his teeth in a feral grin and growled his approval, stilled his own hips but urged Dougie harder with his hands. “That’s it, Douglas,” he panted. “Ride me. Fuck yourself on your master’s cock.”

Yes
, Dougie thought, or maybe he whimpered it or even shouted it, because Nikolai seemed to reply, lapping at Dougie’s throat with his tongue, wetting the sweaty skin even more and then cooling Dougie’s fever with his panting breaths.
Bracing, like autumn air. Clear. Cold. Death, and then comes rebirth, and I’ll be his spring.

“So good,” Nikolai panted against Dougie’s throat. “You’re such a good boy for me, Douglas, always such a good boy, such a happy accident, so perfect . . .”

God, it was fucking pillow talk. Not a lecture, not a teaching moment, just sweet loving words, like they
were
lovers, like Dougie was Nikolai’s precious thing, and if Dougie was a pet or a toy or a doll, he was a beloved one.

Maybe I really am.

And strange how in that moment he wanted so badly to whisper back, to say all the things he was feeling—and holy hell, he
really was feeling
them: acceptance and warmth and affection and pride in his service. All he wanted in that moment was for this to last forever, to always feel this good, to always make Nikolai this happy, to always be this useful and wanted and loved, and he could see it now, he could
love Nikolai back
, he
could
, and he gripped Nikolai’s neck tighter and begged, “May I kiss you, sir?” because if he didn’t,
right now
, he felt quite certain he’d wither away and die.

Nikolai didn’t say yes, just let his dark hungry eyes bore into Dougie’s, reached up and grabbed him by the chin and yanked him forward, crushing their mouths together like they were a couple in an old noir romance, a rough seduction in black and white and in the end everyone knew their place. Dougie lost his balance, hips stilling as he fell forward against Nikolai’s chest, and Nikolai didn’t seem to care, but Dougie knew better, knew it was selfish of him to just
sit
there and let Nikolai tend to Dougie’s needs over his own. It was so hard to think, to focus on things like planting his feet and coordinating his muscles when Nikolai was kissing him this way.

But he forced himself to pull his shit together, drew on everything Nikolai had taught him to make it good, to be perfect, to service his master above all else, and was rewarded by Nikolai moaning into his mouth as Dougie began to ride him again. Dougie smiled against Nikolai’s lips, bounced faster in Nikolai’s lap, closed his eyes, and relished the friction in his own ass, sensation sparking hot and bright in all his secret places, all the parts of him only Nikolai had ever lit with passion, all the parts of him only Nikolai could claim. His cock was downright painful in its cage, pressing hard against the silicone sleeve, desperate to break free, to swell and burst like his nuts would surely do any second now if he couldn’t find release. But he trusted Nikolai to give it to him when it was time, when it would most make
Nikolai
happy, because that was the only appropriate time for Dougie to feel pleasure now. Because Nikolai’s pleasure
was
Dougie’s pleasure. And when the time came for their pleasures to entwine that way, Nikolai would make it fucking mind-blowing.

For both of them, it seemed, judging from the breathy little pants and words of encouragement spilling from Nikolai’s lips. That praise caressed Dougie as surely as Nikolai’s hands on his skin, lips on his jaw, cock in his ass. Made him feel just as good. Better, even. He closed his eyes again, let his head tilt back, let Nikolai’s words vibrate against his throat. “Gods, you feel
so good
, Douglas, so good, look at you, you’re so ready for me, so eager—”
Yes, all those things, I’ll be everything for you, I’ll give you everything, I’ll
be
everything you desire.
“Such a nice tight little hole.”

Hole.

Not
you have
but
you are
, and hadn’t Nikolai said Dougie
wasn’t
a hole? And Dougie had
believed
him—because he’d wanted to, desperately so,
needed
to because he was trapped here and that little piece of humanity Nikolai had gifted him with was all he had now. Because he
was
a person, and maybe Nikolai hadn’t even meant it that way—
hole, hole, hole
—but there was nothing stopping the anxiety that ratcheted Dougie’s stomach as he realized what a
fool
he’d been, how fucking much of Nikolai’s Kool-Aid he’d drunk, how powerfully and totally he’d
lied
to himself about who he was,
what
he was to Nikolai.

Hole.

Hot bile choked his throat and every muscle in his body seemed to clench, and all it did was make Nikolai moan—no, fucking
roar
—as he pounded up into Dougie’s ass and used that weight and leverage on Dougie’s hips to slam him down, and Dougie knew Nikolai was coming, his nails digging into Dougie’s skin and his teeth marking Dougie’s shoulder in primal dominance as he flooded Dougie’s ass with hot seed.

Just a hole to be used, a dog to be fucked and bred and owned, because if Nikolai wanted willing submission he could find guys like that, but he didn’t, he wanted a pet of his own making, wanted the thrill of absolute fucking domination, of asserting himself, and that was what Dougie was. All that was left for Nikolai to do was throw him to his hands and knees on the floor and bite his fucking neck and knot in him like a dog and this horrible ritual would be complete.

Nikolai pounded up into him again, teeth sinking past pain into Dougie’s shoulder, and God but he must’ve been a
good
little hole to make Nikolai lose such control. Nikolai had styled himself to be some kind of god above it all, some new evolution of man, and he was—
ha!
—he was a fucking animal, just as driven by need and lust and instinct as everyone he looked down on. It took Dougie to bring that out in him, just as it took Nikolai to bring out the scared, submissive animal in Dougie.

You can’t let him know.

For a moment the thought froze Dougie—
He’ll realize you’re faking, he’ll be furious, he’ll hurt you, he’ll
hurt
you all over again, all of it, right back to square one
—but then the panic rushed in behind it and mobilized him.
Fake it ’til you make it
, he reminded himself, even if he’d never been farther from making it in his life. He plastered on his smile, his look of desire, his false eagerness to please. Squirmed in Nikolai’s lap as Nikolai rode out the aftershocks. Returned Nikolai’s fervent kiss—
believe me believe me nothing’s changed believe me
—even as fear gnawed desperately at his guts that he could backslide like this, lose every scrap of progress he’d made toward becoming Nikolai’s good boy. And all because of a single careless syllable spilled from Nikolai’s lips in the heat of his passion. It seemed he couldn’t move forward, and he’d kill himself before he let himself move back again. So where did that leave him?

God help him, where did that leave him?

Nikolai will know. Nikolai will help you. Just be honest with him. Tell him. He wants to help you.

But no. No. He was too afraid. Too many
consequences
. And he wasn’t so sure he believed anymore, either. If Nikolai really
could
help him, why hadn’t he already? He’d been here
forever
already. And if Nikolai really was as good as he claimed to be, why was he still kissing Dougie like a proud teacher, murmuring praise into Dougie’s ears as he pulled out from Dougie’s ass, reaching down to shove the plug back in to stopper his cum? Couldn’t he
see
? Didn’t he
know
? How was it that this master trainer of men couldn’t read the turmoil, the fear, the despair screeching through Dougie’s head?

Well, maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing, after all. There’d be no consequences if Nikolai didn’t realize something was wrong. Lest Dougie give himself away, he slunk down to his knees—the action completely calculated this time, as rehearsed as dance choreography—and gently nuzzled against Nikolai’s musky groin. Lapped the taste of his own (thank God, clean) ass off of Nikolai’s cum-sloppy, half-hard cock.

The position made him think back to that first day he’d met Roger, when Roger had laid his head in Nikolai’s lap and told Dougie how happy he was, how in love and fulfilled. Had that all been a lie? Was Roger screaming inside like Dougie was now? Was that all he had to look forward to for the rest of his life—pain and suffering and fear and degradation and a perfect mask to hide it all behind, as placid and flawless as the one Nikolai had worn in the audience at Madame’s?

God,
all of this
hinged on the fact that if only Nikolai helped him, then one day Dougie would be
happy
. Would live every single day steeped in that sweet, simple joy of service he’d tasted, just for a moment, this afternoon. Share that look Roger had worn on his face as he’d sucked Nikolai’s cock, that feeling Dougie had felt when he’d climbed into Nikolai’s lap and kissed him.

But what if it was all a lie?

Roger would never say. Dougie couldn’t blame him; he wouldn’t tell either. Couldn’t bring himself to say anything even now, alone with Nikolai, even after Nikolai had shown him so much patience and kindness, had urged him repeatedly to open up, be honest, share his weaknesses and fears so that Nikolai could help him conquer them. Who would open themselves up to a relative stranger with unseeable motives when they couldn’t even talk to Nikolai?

There was no way to know. No way at all. The years here would pass, and either Dougie would become the happy pet Nikolai had promised him he would be, or he would become an empty shell, hating himself and smiling all the while.

And the worst part was, he wasn’t sure he had any say in the matter. Maybe nothing he tried or didn’t try, did or didn’t do, mattered. Maybe the one man—the one self-proclaimed
master
of men—who thought he could save Dougie was as delusional as Dougie had been to believe he could ever be saved.

Nikolai combed half-numb fingers through Douglas’s silky hair. The repetitive motion, combined with the soft lapping of Douglas’s tongue on his balls, nearly lulled him to sleep. He could sleep, if he liked. He was the master, after all, and it was his right to use his boy’s ass to his satisfaction and then leave him wanting.

But no.

Douglas did need to learn that lesson, needed to learn the hard way that his pleasure could be an inconsequential thing to his master, but today was not the day for that. Today they’d shared such affection and joy and sweetness and had fucked like the happy lovers they were, and Nikolai wanted to carry that lesson and that glorious feeling through to the end of the day.

Not here, though. He pushed Douglas off him, noting the glassy look in Douglas’s eyes, the flush on his face and the dazed droop of his lip, and stood. Tucked himself back into his trousers—a little bit of lube stained the fabric; he’d show Douglas how to hand-wash the spot tomorrow—and patted Douglas’s head. “Come along now, boy.”

He strode out of the kitchen, not needing to confirm that Douglas was following, and headed for the staircase that led up to his private rooms. Not down, not tonight. His well-fed little pet had truly earned his right to the warmth and comfort of Nikolai’s bath and bed. And Nikolai didn’t fancy being alone tonight, not after what they’d shared. He wanted to go to sleep with his perfect new boy, and wake up beside him tomorrow morning for another round. Bliss. Nikolai had earned it. They both had.

Douglas especially when Nikolai happened to look over one shoulder and saw that Douglas was not only following, but doing so on his hands and knees, crawling up the stairs with such adoring and complete submission it made Nikolai’s heart squeeze. Nikolai hadn’t commanded that, hadn’t asked for it, had barely even trained the boy to it; Douglas had given it to him like a gift.