The Flesh Cartel #2: Auction

swiped the sponge so rough over Dougie’s hole he cried out. “I was trying to be nice to you, hole. God knows why I wasted my time. Turn over.”
    “Please,” Dougie said—sobbed, really, if he were to be honest—though he did as told, turning ass-up in the tub. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that, okay? I’m sorry. I don’t think I’m better than you at all. You’re a man. I’m a hole.
    I’m sorry. I’m sorry .” But the man didn’t fuck him, didn’t hurt him again.
    Didn’t even speak to him again. Just scrubbed his back clean, washed his hair, dunked his head underwater to rinse off the soap and then made him turn around and sit up again.
    Dougie obeyed numbly, as sideswiped by relief as he’d so often been by fear. Closed his eyes when the man massaged some goop into his hair, something silky and smelling of coconuts and vanilla, then tugged a comb through it. “Leave that. Five minutes,” the man said. “Don’t touch anything.”
    He stood, revealing a raging erection under his scrub pants.

    Dougie steeled himself to suck it, but the man just left the room and shut the door.

    A few seconds later, the door to the bathroom on the left opened and closed.

    27
    “You ever fuck an unconscious man’s throat?” the assistant asked as he stormed back into Dougie’s little bathroom a few minutes later. Dougie closed his eyes— don’t think about it don’t think about it don’t think about it. “No, of course you haven’t. Well, let me tell you, it’s more trouble than it’s worth. Head down.” He dropped a heavy hand on Dougie’s shoulder and dunked him, scrubbing a hand through his hair to wash away the cream rinse.
    And scrubbing. And scrubbing. And scrubbing. Dougie knew better than to fight back, but his chest was burning and the man was fucking drowning him in a bathtub and he couldn’t help it, he struggled and flailed and grabbed at the arm pinning him with both hands—
    And suddenly he was free. Breaking the surface, no hands on him at all. Gasping for air.
The assistant was a few feet back, the guard’s hands wrapped around his wrists. “You pouty fucking queer,” the guard snarled. “You just about flushed our prize item.
    Just because he didn’t let you fuck his ass? He’s a fucking hole. Bend him over and just fucking do it. Watch this.” He looked over to Dougie. “Hole! Come here and suck my dick dry.”
    Dougie was out of the tub in half a second and on his knees at the guard’s feet not long after. Dripping on the floor, still seeing spots from lack of oxygen, still panting, he reached up, undid the guard’s zipper, and pulled the thick cock out through the opening. He didn’t stop to think about it, just started sucking, licking, bobbing his head, and even moaning a little, more out of desperation than arousal.
    I’m alive. I’m alive because of you. If this is the cost, so be it.
    The guard seemed pleased, groaning out a long “Yeeeeeeah” and combing his hand through Dougie’s hair. 28
    Not gripping it or pulling it. Not using it to fuck Dougie’s face. Just . . . touching it.
    He came not long after. Dougie swallowed it down. Every single drop. Made himself smile and lick his lips,
    beaming right up at the guard like a very good dog. The man hadn’t hurt him. He’d play along for that.
    “See?” the guard said. “Halfway broken in already. If you’re not man enough to rein this kid in, you don’t fucking deserve to get laid. You try to kill any of the stock again, though, and I’ll put you in the cage right next door, you got it? You ain’t good-looking, but you don’t need to be to work a glory hole all day.”
“I wasn’t gonna kill him,” the man mumbled, sullen, like a spoiled teen. “Just teaching the hole a little lesson, is all.”“Well this one’s a prize hole. If you want to teach it a lesson, go get its good-for-nothing brother next time.”
    “I tried —” “Shut up.” The guard picked Dougie up off his knees,
    strangely gentle, grabbed a towel off the cart and rubbed at his dripping skin. “You done here?”
    “Lotion,” the assistant said. He was still pouting. “Hurry up. Madame’s waiting.” Then, to Dougie, “Can you stand, little hole?”
    Dougie nodded like a bobble head, though in truth he wasn’t really sure. He just wanted everyone’s hands the fuck off him, didn’t matter that they weren’t hurting him now.
    The guard took him at his word, letting go of him and standing watch while