The Flesh Cartel #5: Wins and Losses

horizontal. When had he become such a fucking coward? When had he started letting fear of pain rule his life?
You think you don’t fear pain, but that’s only because you don’t truly know what pain is yet.
Oh, how he’d scoffed at Madame’s doctor when he’d said that. But Mat had clearly been the fool the man had thought him. He’d learned his lesson about pain all too well since that day, hadn’t he.
Jesus, he made himself sick. He’d probably make Coach Darryl sick, too. The man would kick him right out of his gym if he ever saw Mat cowering like some beaten dog at the thought of a little suffering.
A little? Hah.
He kicked the bag again. Threw a hard punch on the backswing. Stupid without his hands wrapped, but he didn’t give a fuck right now. Hit it again, again. And more, until his hands throbbed, until the skin over his knuckles split. See? He could take pain. It was nothing. Didn’t mean anything. Wouldn’t stop him. Not again. Never ag—
A hard hand closed over his shoulder and he whirled around, elbow out at face-height—
Nikolai.
Mat couldn’t stop the momentum of his arm in time, so he threw himself back a step, lost his balance and stumbled into the heavy bag.
Jesus, how had Nikolai gotten in here without Mat noticing?
Nikolai said nothing as he folded his arms across his chest and raised an eyebrow at Mat’s bleeding knuckles.
“What?” Mat snarled, and before he could react, Nikolai caught him by one wrist, twisted his arm up behind his back until his hand was between his shoulder blades, and grabbed him by the neck to shove him down face-first into the bed. Once he was bent over the edge of the mattress, the hand on the back of his neck let go—wasn’t necessary anymore since the one twisting his arm was pinning him just fucking fine— and tore away his flimsy athletic shorts.
“Your new master won’t be able to control you like this.” Mat snorted. Nikolai was only managing it because he was letting him. “You must make the choice to go willingly. As you’re making the choice now not to fight back, despite us both knowing you could win.”
“What choice?” Mat snarled. “After what you said you’d do to Dougie if—”
Nikolai wrenched his hand up higher. “Forget about Douglas. Did you have a good think, Mathias? Did you make your list? Have you found something of your own to live for?”
After a sort, he supposed. And now he wished he hadn’t written it down. What had he been thinking, giving Nikolai ammunition like that? He said nothing. Let the man find the paper if he wanted to. At least then he’d have to let go of Mat’s arm.
Nikolai smoothed his free hand over Mat’s ass. Not a warm touch. Assessing, maybe. Mat shuddered beneath it. “You’re very muscular here, compared to your brother. But then, I’m keeping him soft.”
Provoking you. He’s trying to provoke you. Don’t speak. Don’t move. Don’t let him win.
The stroking hand grew firmer, slipped between his cheeks, spread him apart.
“Good,” Mat said. “Rape me and get it over with.” Better him than Dougie. Always better.
“I’m not a rapist,” and holy shit, was that a chink in Nikolai’s armor? Had Mat upset the fucker? “You’ll come to me of your own accord. I’ve no need to force.”
Mat snorted again. “Yeah, which is why you’ve got me bent over the bed in an arm lock with your hand wedged in my ass crack.”
Mat could imagine no response to that jab that wouldn’t end in violence, but Nikolai surprised him by . . . laughing? “I see you’re back to your old self again,” Nikolai said. “How delightful.” And weirdly, he sounded like he meant that. The hand in his ass crack left, scraped over Mat’s bloody knuckles. Mat hissed. “And in answer to your accusation, no. I have you bent over the bed in an arm lock because I intend to whip you. Do you remember what I said about damaging my property?”
“Wh—”
“Do keep up. You are my property. Your body is my property. I gave you the things in this room to help you stay fit and strong and healthy. Not to damage yourself out of some pathetic teenage boy’s rebellion. If you’re determined to be in pain, then I’ll give you pain, but on my terms. No lasting damage. Absolutely no scarring. But pain. Did you break your hands?”
“I don’t want to be in pain.”
Nikolai wrenched Mat’s hand up so high between his shoulders he cried out.
“Did. You. Break. Your. Hands?”
“No! No, they’re fine, just cut,