The Flesh Cartel #5: Wins and Losses

That’s your brother. Fear, maybe? Fear of giving in? Fear that you might like what I do to you?”
He would like it. He knew that, and that was worse than anything.
“Ah,” Nikolai murmured, drawing the word out like a sigh. “Not fear. Surety.”
“Please, sir,” Dougie begged. For what he had no idea—he just needed this to stop, needed everything to stop.
“There’s no shame in pleasure, Douglas. No call to feel humiliated or embarrassed, or to think it’s wrong or that you’re not entitled.” Nikolai splayed his hands across Dougie’s chest, cool and dry against overheated skin, and flicked both nipples with his thumbs. Dougie arched beneath him again, desperate to escape, to make it stop, to—
To come, God, to finally ease this burning ache and—
No. No. “Please,” he begged again, heedless of the tears in his voice. He had no more space for shame. Was filled to the brim with it.
“Please what, Douglas? I’m not a cruel man.” One hand left his nipple, trailed down his flank and slid between his legs to fondle his too-heavy balls. The touch was unbearable, a nauseating swirl of pain and pleasure and hunger and shame and oh God please stop don’t stop. Dougie clamped his legs around Nikolai’s hand, but that didn’t deter the man; his fingers massaged, massaged. “Ask me for something I can give you, and you shall have it.”
Dougie shook his head, but his body stopped fighting, his legs unclenching, his fisted hands going limp beneath Nikolai’s knees. He’d endure this because he had to, because despite everything he wanted to live, but he wouldn’t be complicit in his own rape. He wouldn’t.
“No, not yet?” Nikolai asked, and he was glib, not really angry at all. “Maybe tomorrow, then.”
No no no, not again. Not another day of this. No.
“No,” Dougie gasped, chest heaving.
“No, what?”
“Don’t leave me like this, please don’t leave me like this, please—”
Nikolai smiled. A wicked, terrible smile, the most unsettling expression Dougie had ever seen on his face. “Oh pet, I don’t plan to.”
Dougie wasn’t stupid enough to be relieved when Nikolai helped him up off the floor, walked him to the edge of his bed, and bent him over it. But part of him hoped. So fervently. As fervent as his need, which had, somewhere along the line in this hellish place, become as potent and all-consuming as his hatred and fear.
And then he was relieved, because he felt and heard a key in the lock at his waist. The straps fell away.
“Thank you, sir, thank you, thank you,” he moaned into the blankets. If Nikolai fucked him now, he wouldn’t mind. He’d let him. He wouldn’t fight or cry or complain. Anything to get the plug out. Anything.
Nikolai chuckled. “Don’t thank me yet,” he replied, but Dougie felt him grabbing hold of the base of the plug. Not pulling it free yet, but God, soon, he would do it soon. Dougie moaned again, lifting his ass up, presenting himself like some kind of animal in heat, hoping the show would tempt Nikolai to move faster. Can’t fuck me if I’m plugged, sir, and I know you want to fuck me. I can feel it. He moaned again. It wasn’t for show.
Another chuckle from Nikolai. The plug torqued inside Dougie, forcing the curved nub right over his prostate, back and forth and back and forth and oh God I’m gonna come I can’t even get hard and he’s gonna make me—
Stillness, God damn him. No more movement, and no vibration for the first time in God knew how long. One more second and he would’ve . . . Would’ve what? You’d have come at your rapist’s hands and rejoiced for it? God, he disgusted himself. Couldn’t bear to be in his own skin. How was he going to survive this?
The stillness felt so strange—like a residual buzzing, a sense memory of what’d been before. The abject need dialed back a step, but he couldn’t stop clenching his ass around the plug, couldn’t stop reaching for something he’d almost had, even as the sheer relief nearly brought him to tears again.
Then Nikolai slid the plug free, and for one breathless moment Dougie knew he was going to explode—
But he didn’t, and then it was more of the same strange stillness but a thousand times worse, a needing, a reaching, a relief so strong that this time he did cry. The pressure in his nuts eased the tiniest fraction, and for what seemed the first time in days, his cock stopped trying to break its cage. He sucked in a huge, trembling breath, blew it back out