The Flesh Cartel, #10: False Gods

Nikolai was trying to sell him. To someone who, apparently, didn’t even want him. But Nikolai thought he’d be a good fit for this man, and Nikolai knew best.
    Master knows best. Master knows best. Master knows best.
    Besides, Nikolai needed him. Needed him .
    “I understand that you’re bored with complacent pups, Allen. And I promise, the man I’m training for you now will fit your exact specifications in that regard. But this other boy is so much more than just complacent, Allen. He’s exquisite.” Nikolai took a quiet sip of his tea; the right corner of his mouth quirked up in brief satisfaction, and Douglas’s whole center pulsed with pride, relief, though equally brief given the circumstances. “Yes. Yes. I understand.”
    No mistaking the disappointment in Nikolai’s tone. Did this Allen man not want Douglas even after Nikolai’s reassurances?
    God, he shouldn’t be feeling so thankful right now. What would happen if Mat went to Allen alone? Who would keep him under control then? Who would stop him from doing all the stupid shit he’d done here and worse? And what would happen to Nikolai, then? Would people still trust him to train their slaves? He was the best—the best . Douglas couldn’t allow Mat to ruin that. He needed to convince Allen he was worth taking. Not just a complacent pup.
    “Well, listen. Let me make it up to you. I’m having a debut party for this new boy, with all the usual clients. Show him off, find him some interested buyers, you know how it goes. Jeremy will pull out all the stops on the hors d’oeuvres, of course, and I’ll pull your favorite Château Margaux out of my cellar. Best of all, your little investment will be there. Not quite ready to go home with you yet, but I think I could arrange a private preview for you. Supervised, of course, but that shouldn’t affect your enjoyment, I don’t think?” He laughed at whatever Allen said in reply, but when Douglas darted his eyes up to Nikolai’s face, the little furrow was still marring his brow.
    A couple more minutes of small talk, a few more sips of tea, and he hung up with a sigh.
    Douglas shuffled forward on his knees until he could lay his head on Nikolai’s thigh. Despite how the conversation had just gone, he couldn’t help but think that this might be one of the last times for a very long time he’d be able to do this, and he didn’t want to miss a single moment while it lasted. More than that, Nikolai was upset. And if Douglas could do anything at all to make him feel better, he damn well would. “Master? Would you like to get your frustration out? My mouth, maybe? My ass?” A pause—was he asking this for Nikolai or for himself?—and then, “Or should I fetch a cane for you?”
    Nikolai shook his head. He didn’t like hurting people, and he clearly wasn’t in the mood for sex.
    “Foot rub, Master? A massage? A drink? Should I find Roger and we can create some distraction for you? Master?”
    Nikolai sighed, the sound no different than the one he’d made at the conclusion of that unpleasant phone call. Pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger. Douglas shut his mouth, ducked his head. He’d pushed too hard. “I’m sorry, Master, I shouldn’t have—”
    Nikolai’s hand came to rest on Douglas’s head. For a moment he’d been certain Nikolai was going to strike him—God knew he deserved it for getting in his master’s face like he just had, even if all he’d wanted was to help. It wasn’t his place to help. Wasn’t his place to push. And certainly wasn’t his place to be so fucking needy . He was going away because Nikolai needed him to. He had to accept that.
    Nikolai didn’t strike him, though. He just carded his fingers through Douglas’s hair, then guided Douglas’s head back to his thigh. Douglas pressed his cheek against fine fabric and firm muscle and closed his eyes, all the better to remember this moment, this sensation, Nikolai’s nails scratching lightly across his scalp.
    “I love you, Master,” he murmured. No matter what .
    “I know, Douglas. Which is why I know I can count on you to change Allen’s mind at your coming-out party.”
    Douglas’s stomach clenched. “Of course, Master.”
    “Good boy. Now you can fetch my cane—but only once you tell me what you’ve done.”
    I wanted to stay. I needed you. “Thank you, Master.”

Roger tugged a comb through Douglas’s increasingly unruly hair while Douglas tried very, very hard not