The Flesh Cartel #1: Capture

they meant to do ( don’t think about it don’t think that word ), he’d take it like a fucking man— he’d take the punishment for once, and if he could manage it, Mat would never know how far it’d gone. Some guys came by tonight. No, I’m fine. Honest. But maybe it’s time for you to come clean about whatever trouble you’ve gotten into.
    Then J yanked his fat fingers out of Dougie’s ass and shoved him forward into the waiting arms of his companions, and all of Dougie’s well-intentioned bravado vanished beneath a fresh wave of pain and terror. And another scream. A new hand clamped over his mouth.
    “Gonna make it real hard to fuck your mouth if I gotta keep a hand on it the whole time, hole.”
    “Just gag him with your cock, idiot.”
    “I’ll gag you with my cock,” the guy snapped, but he was lifting Dougie up, swinging him over his shoulder like a sandbag, and someone caught his beating fists and someone else caught his flailing feet but none of those someones seemed to care or feel any of it, and they hauled him in tandem toward the open space of the living room.
    Oh God, all the blinds had been drawn.
    “Stay on your fucking knees,” someone threatened, and then they dropped him onto the middle of the floor on his back. The instruction was pretty much pointless; the impact had winded him so hard he couldn’t even get up to his knees, let alone try to stand. Instead he just lay there, dazed and staring at the ceiling fan, until someone stepped on his dick with a big black boot, hard enough to make him yelp.
    “What I tell you about making noise?” The man crouched, smirking to himself before grabbing Dougie by the hair and hauling him up onto his knees. He yanked Dougie’s hands behind his back. Narrow plastic zip-ties cut into the skin of his wrists as they bound him.
    “Do his elbows, too. Make his tits stick out.”
    “Fuck off, this ain’t a fucking strip tease. Get his mouth open.”
    They all wore black. Black boots, black sweatshirts, black pants. One of them had an earring, a flashy diamond stud that Dougie wished he were brave and strong enough to rip right out of the lobe. But other than that, he couldn’t tell them apart. Couldn’t even remember who J was, or which of them had picked him up and carried him out here. They didn’t look alike at all, except for their massive size, but still . . . they were like four heads on one horrible body, like some kind of rapey Greek myth come snarling and snapping to life.
    “ Open .” Fingers compressed his cheeks, squishing his mouth open. Gloved fingers. They were wearing latex gloves.
    “Put some lipstick on him,” someone muttered.
    “You gonna lend us yours, then, you fucking idiot?” A cock slapped against his cheek and he squeezed his eyes shut, wishing he could squeeze his nose shut as well, not have to smell that cloying-sick stench of crotch and cum. “I said open , hole.” The cock slapped his cheek again, and then was followed by a hand heavy enough to knock him over, ears ringing, when he didn’t comply. He landed hard on his side, cracked his head against the hardwood floor. Lay there dazed as someone straddled his chest. Tasted latex against his tongue, hands prying his jaw open, and then he was filled, gagging, choking , tears streaming down his cheeks as someone rutted down his throat and grunted, “That’s it, hole. Take it, ” like he had some kind of fucking choice .
    The cock was so far down his throat he couldn’t scream when someone pried his knees apart and shoved fingers up his ass again. Less resistance this time somehow, but God it still burned , stung, and his body lurched against it, stomach muscles clenching, trying to force the invader out. He bucked, kicked—his foot connected with something solid and grunty, and the fingers disappeared, came back as a fist to his stomach.
    “Careful! You’re gonna make him bite my knob off.” The cock in his mouth retreated, dragging disgusting, thick ropes of spit and bitter-salty I-don’t-even-want-to-think-about-it in its wake. Dougie’s face was soaked with it. Though he had nothing in his mouth, he still gagged.
    Someone laughed. “So much more fun when they’re straight, amiright?”
    “We should see if we can get two cocks in this straight twink’s ass.”
    “Hell, why not a fist? Wearing gloves, ain’t we?” Fingers shoved back inside him and wiggled, the motion strangely fish-like. Eels. Worms. He gagged again.
    “Find something