The Flesh Cartel #5: Wins and Losses

pain—and snapped, “Be quiet. You had your chance to stop this. You’ll have it again tomorrow, too, and when that time comes, I suggest you carefully consider the consequences of your choice.”
Nikolai buckled the same strap around his waist. Locked it again. “Now stand up,” he said. “And turn to face me. I’ve one last thing for you. One last test.”
“No more,” Dougie moaned, but he still stood and turned. God, this thing was downright uncomfortable, for all the teeth-gritting pleasure it sparked. No ignoring it: it kept him stretched until he burned. Vibrated. Filled him deep and rigid and—God damn the fucking vibration.
“Come now, that plug is no bigger than my own cock. You’ve taken more and shot all over your chest besides.”
Oh God, don’t remind me.
Nikolai took Dougie by the chin, stroking his jaw like they were lovers. And was that true affection Dougie saw in his eyes? How could anyone who claimed to feel for him do this to him? “Now. This training will continue regardless, but you can make it easy on yourself, or you can make it difficult. Today, you’ve chosen difficult. Tomorrow, you can choose again. I’m sorry, but once your choice is made, I can’t let you take it back. Perhaps one day, when you’ve truly learned . . .” Nikolai looked into the distance, like he was daydreaming, then snapped back to reality, that stern fatherly look returning. “But until then, I’d be doing you a grave disservice. So today, the cage stays on your cock, and the plug in your ass continues to vibrate until I see you next. You can, however, save yourself one last indignity, if you choose to.”
It couldn’t be that easy.
“W-what’s the catch, sir?” Dougie asked, eyes drifting briefly to the raging hard-on tenting Nikolai’s thousanddollar suit pants.
“No ‘catch.’ I’m not a used car salesman. A choice. You can get on your knees and ask nicely to suck my cock, or you can face the consequences of displeasing your master. Now. Choose.”
Beg? Dougie swallowed hard. He wanted him to beg for it? Please, Mr. Crazy Kidnapper, would you do me the honor of raping my mouth?
No, it’s not like that. Just suck his cock. It won’t be that bad. You did it once and came out intact.
Don’t suck his cock. Don’t you fucking dare. Give him an inch, he’ll take a mile. He’s smart. He’ll exploit every weakness.
Just get on your knees and look up at him like you’re in a cheap amateur porno and say it. Say, “Please sir, can I suck your big cock?”
“I’ll take your hesitance as a no, then.”
“No! Wait!”
He didn’t look angry, only disappointed. But he wasn’t swayed by Dougie’s “No,” either.
“This is a lesson your brother has had to learn—and learn again, and again, and again—the hard way. I see it’s your turn now.”
Mat. What have you done to Mat oh God please tell me you’re not treating him like this . . .
“You should be less concerned for him and more concerned for yourself, little pet. He spares no concern for you, after all. You disgust him as much as you disgust yourself.”
Shut up. Shut up shut up shut up.
“I’m sorry. It’s the truth. Now, I think we’re quite finished talking, don’t you?”
Yes, please. Anything is better than more mindfucking.
Nikolai gave one of Dougie’s nipples a pinch. He rolled it between his thumb and forefinger, pulling it out. Stretching it. Dougie arched away, whimpering—he’d had quite enough of that awful pain/pleasure, wanted no more of either, thank you very much.
“I love how pink these are. Very beautiful. I once had a boy like you with nipples like this. Probably . . . seven years back? Six? No, seven. I had them pierced with rings and hung with little bells. Quite festive.”
Dougie whimpered again. No, please, no. He couldn’t possibly deserve something so drastic. No no no.
And then, Did he say years? God, how long has this sick operation been going on? How old was that other man . . . Roger, was it? How old was he? Had he been taken when he was Dougie’s age? And never—
Nikolai reached into his pocket, pulled out . . . jewelry? Two pretty little somethings on either end of a short silver chain. Like quarter-sized filigrees, or flat silver pretzels, almost.
Nikolai caught Dougie studying the chain. “Pretty, aren’t they? They’ll be even lovelier on you.” Jewelry after all, then? “Though you may beg to differ. Or”—he smiled, as if at some private joke, and tweaked Dougie’s