The Flesh Cartel #6: Brotherhood

the value of pleasure, sir.”
“Very good. I think you’re ready for the second part of that lesson now. After all, you cannot truly know gratitude if I don’t give you things to be grateful for. You must never become entitled, of course, and in time you’ll learn that any attention from your master at all—even if he’s only acknowledging you to punish you by his own hand—is a gift worthy of gratitude. But I don’t expect you to understand that yet. Although . . .” He hugged Dougie tightly, kissed the top of his head, and it felt so fucking good to be held, to feel affection, to not be afraid, even for just a moment. “Although you’re clearly grateful to have my attention now. That’s good, Douglas. That’s very good. But I’ve promised to help make this easy for you, so if you’d like the gift of pleasure now, you need only ask. Tell me what you’d like me to do for you, Douglas, and if I can, I will.”
Make the pain stop. “I . . . I don’t know what to ask for, sir. I don’t—I’ve never—”
“Shhh. We could begin with uncaging you, yes?” Oh God yes, please, that. “Ask me for that gift, Douglas, and you shall have it.”
But it couldn’t be that simple, could it? Just like that? Surely Nikolai wanted more than just words after all he’d put him through, all he’d demanded of him, all he’d tried to take. Surely he wanted . . .
Dougie dropped to his knees at Nikolai’s feet and pressed his lips to the top of one well-polished shoe. He could give him this, could give him this to make the pain end, to keep his affection. “Thank you, sir,” he said, surprised and relieved by how easily the words came. How much he meant them. “Please, sir. Would you . . . would you free my cock, sir?”
Silence. No reply. His stomach went cold with dread, and after a moment or two, he looked up, cautiously cracking one eye open, the other still winced shut. Nikolai was smiling. Not just happy or pleased, but . . . amused?
“You didn’t really need to grovel—I’d have taken a sincerely and humbly made request—but I can’t say the effect isn’t charming, Douglas. Up on the bed then. Feet on the floor, but lie back.”
Dougie got to his feet, puffing with relief as he fell back onto the soft mattress. And then, on second thought, he spread his legs nice and wide. Kept his feet planted to the floor. Draped his arms over his head, like an erotic photograph, and took a deep breath. He hoped Nikolai liked it. If he was . . . if he was going to do this, well, he was going to do it. Or he’d lose his nerve. Slide back again. Make Nikolai have to hurt him again.
No.
Never.
From here on out, he’d be perfect. Give Nikolai no reason to punish him and as many reasons to be happy with him as he was capable of.
Nikolai’s expression was soft, unhurried, blessedly patient and calming as he produced a ring of keys from his pocket, selected a small gold one, and slotted it into the miniature padlock that fastened the cage. His other hand rubbed slow, easy circles on Dougie’s belly, which had cramped so hard for so long under the onslaught of plug and cage that the muscles there burned and quivered, but oh, that touch felt good. Then the lock clicked open and the cage fell away and God, God thank you thank you thank you his cock was free.
And he must have said so aloud, because Nikolai stroked his brow and said, “You’re welcome.”
For a while after that, Dougie just lay back, panting, so overcome with relief he had no idea what to do with himself. But then Nikolai reached for him, wrapping a gentle but insistent hand around his shaft.
Get hard, he willed himself. Get hard for him. His balls throbbed and his ass hurt something fierce and he felt weird and empty and too full all at the same time, still terribly oversensitive and tender and yet desperately needy, so why wasn’t he responding to Nikolai’s gift? Come on, come on come on . . . If he screwed this up, Nikolai would be disappointed again, and he’d put him back in the cage and plug him back up and leave him here to drown in his suffering . . .
“Before you came here, what did you like?” Nikolai asked, pumping him with slow strokes.
Serena Chang. How many times had he fantasized about burying his face in those gorgeous tits and . . . And what? Somehow, he’d never really gotten further than that, never lasted long enough to draw out the fantasy. Honestly, he’d never really had great sex to draw from. That one time in high