The Flesh Cartel #6: Brotherhood

tricks on him, it was better than this horrible emptiness. But when he turned, only one man was standing there: a man wearing a suit—why was he wearing a suit on the beach?—with one hand tucked casually into his pocket.
“Who—who are you?” Dougie asked, even though he felt like . . . he felt like . . . like he should know the answer, or maybe a piece of the answer. “Where’s my father?”
The man reached out, and even though they’d been separated by at least a couple yards just a second ago, now they were toe to toe, and the man’s hand was clasped around Dougie’s upper arm, holding him tight enough to hurt. “Right here, Douglas. I’m your father now, remember?”
No, that wasn’t right. That wasn’t right at all. He jerked away, but the man just caught him again, held him tight, and not one of the things Mat had taught him about making people let go of you did a lick of good.
And then suddenly they were in the ocean—far, far out in the ocean, farther than Dougie had ever been and the beach was just a speck in the distance and the waves were so tall and the current was so strong and he was drowning, he was drowning—
“Shhh, it’s all right, Douglas. Hold on to me. I’ll save you.”
“No!” he wailed, and water gushed into his mouth, choking him. “No, this isn’t right, this isn’t right!”
But the arms around him were warm and steady and strong, and the body holding his kept the ocean from swallowing him whole. He was too tired to swim anymore. Too tired to keep fighting. The water was so cold it burned, ate through him like acid, and he didn’t want to hurt anymore, and he didn’t want to die.
“Will you let me help you, Douglas?” the man asked.
“Yes,” Dougie said, almost too weary to form the word. “ Yes.”
The man kissed his wet hair and towed him back to the shore. The sun didn’t shine again—might never shine again— and everyone he loved was dead, but at least the man’s body was warm. It was enough. It had to be.
Dougie woke gasping.
Had he even been asleep? Consciousness washed in and out, in and out, in and— Oh, Nikolai was here, wearing his latex gloves again. Milking him. His fingers sliding in and out. How many days had it been now with the plug and the cage and Nikolai’s gloved fingers and eating his own cum? Three? Four? He couldn’t remember. It was all just one blurred wash of agony and humiliation, hopelessness and helplessness, and everyone he loved was gone and he was too tired to keep fighting anymore and he wanted it—needed it—to end.
“Stop,” he whispered, and Nikolai must have heard him, because his fingers stilled.
“What was that, boy?”
“Stop. Stop. Please stop. I give in. I want . . .” I want this suffering to end. “I want to do what you want. I want to be who you want me to be. Please, sir, tell me how. Help me. Please.”
Nikolai’s latex gloves snapped, and then his bare hands were on Dougie’s shoulders, helping him to his feet, turning him until he was crushed against Nikolai’s broad chest. Warm. Solid. Not drowning now, he won’t let me drown. He even smelled good. Dougie sighed, relaxing into Nikolai’s grip. “Of course, Douglas,” Nikolai said to him, indulgent as a father on Christmas. He tilted Dougie’s face up by the chin and planted a soft kiss on his mouth. “Of course I will.”
Dougie realized he was crying when Nikolai swept the tears from one cheek with his thumb.
“No more crying, now. I know you’re still in the most painful part of your transition, but from now on, you must try to be happy to serve, Douglas. Overjoyed, even. And one day soon, you won’t have to try at all. But you must trust me. Do you trust me?”
“I . . .” He won’t let me drown he wants to keep me too much he won’t let me drown. “I want to, sir. But I . . .” He buried his face in Nikolai’s chest, clung to Nikolai’s jacket with both hands. He’d be punished now, he knew that. But he was too raw to lie anymore, and maybe, just maybe, whatever came next would help him get where he needed to be to stop hurting for good. Maybe all this pain served a purpose. Nikolai couldn’t reshape him, after all, without breaking him first. How strange for that thought not to frighten him anymore. It was almost . . .
Relief.
“Shhh,” Nikolai said. “Do you remember why I caged your cock, Douglas?”
A question with an easy answer. Thank God. Dougie could kiss the man for that. “Because you wanted me to learn