The Flesh Cartel #6: Brotherhood

suffered.
God help him, he was so alone.
Except for Nikolai. Nikolai, who hadn’t wanted to send him here, but who’d prepared him for it anyway. Who’d made sure it wouldn’t hurt him quite so much when the time came. Who’d helped him, in his own fucked-up way. Who’d held him when he’d cried. Who’d promised to love him. Who never looked away from Dougie’s suffering like it wasn’t happening. The man brought Dougie’s wandering mind back sharply with a slap to his much-abused ass, and Dougie lurched and shouted beneath the man’s knee. Fingers parted his cheeks. Cold lube drizzled down his crack. Lots of it. One small kindness, at least. Or maybe Nikolai just wouldn’t abide the man tearing him. Yeah, probably that.
Which meant, again, that it was Nikolai protecting him. And you refused him.
The hard roundness of the bat’s wide end touched his hole. At least three times as fat as the hilt on the other side was, much bigger than anything Nikolai had tried to prepare him with and oh God this was going to split him in half, rip him to shreds, he couldn’t he couldn’t—
“You gonna scream nice and loud for your brother to hear?”
The man didn’t wait for an answer.
Just shoved it in.
Dougie screamed.
White hot pain blanked out all thought. When he resurfaced, it was to his own screams. Screams in his head too: Nikolai didn’t prepare me for this nothing could prepare me for this it’s so much bigger than anything else and he’s tearing me I’m fucking tearing and Mat is just fucking standing there watching like this is some kind of fucking movie and it’s too big how is it going in is he going to put it all the way to the handle is that even possible—
Another shove, another scream. Something hot and wet ran down Dougie’s perineum, the back of his balls—bleeding oh Jesus Christ I’m bleeding he’s torn me fucking open it hurts it hurts make him stop God please Mat help me help me help me— “Your brother’s a good boy, Douglas.” Shove. “He’s not”— shove—“going”—shove— “to help you.” Another shove, and over the blinding burning agony in his ass, he felt his gut cramp, screamed again, sobbed into the blankets, tried to escape but couldn’t move, couldn’t move at all and everything hurt so much and he was dying, he was sure of it, there was no way he could live through this much pain and the man was fucking rearranging his internal organs with a fucking baseball bat and he was bleeding, he was bleeding— “Mr. Thompson, what are you doing to my boy?” The bat jerked out of Dougie’s ass with a twist and a squelch and another white-hot blast of pain. The knee lifted from his back.
“I thought for the next five hours he was—”
The sound of a fist hitting a face. The baseball bat hit the floor.
Dougie was on fire, but not even the agony could tamp his relief at the knowledge that Mat was finally making a move, finally saving him—
No. Not Mat. Mat was still leaning against the dresser, watching Nikolai shake out his hand. Nikolai’s reddened knuckles. Nikolai had punched his own client. For me. “You were borrowing him, which I allowed you to do out of the goodness of my heart and the generosity afforded me by my very privileged position. A position I have earned. A position I will now use to deny you any access to him again. You may not buy him. Not if that is how you plan to treat him.”
Dougie’s breath left his lungs in a hard, shuddery huff, settling the churning in his chest. He’d forgotten . . . Forgotten Nikolai had planned to sell him to this monster. Planned to let this man take him and Mat and do this to them all the time. But Nikolai wasn’t letting it happen. He was saving them from this terrible fate, and if Dougie hadn’t hurt so unbelievably much he would’ve fallen to his knees, sobbed all over Nikolai’s feet instead of this hateful bed and let him know how thankful he was. Shown him his gratitude, like Nikolai had wanted, like Nikolai deserved. Give him no reason to ever, ever, ever try to sell him again and every reason he possibly could to keep him. Let him know he’d try so hard now to be what Nikolai wanted him to be.
Because Mat wasn’t going to save him anymore, and he couldn’t save himself, and there was no one else to worry about them or look for them and if someone was going to rescue them, they’d have done it already. Nobody loved him at all anymore, no one but Nikolai, and so what if it was fuckedup love