The Flesh Cartel #5: Wins and Losses

slowly through pursed lips. A few more minutes of this and he might actually be able to think again.
“Absolutely beautiful.” Nikolai massaged Dougie’s ass cheeks, almost absentmindedly, like a cat kneading a blanket. “You have no idea how beautifully you suffer. Pain, pleasure. From the very first time I saw you . . .” As he trailed off his fingers swept inward, the tip of one touching just outside Dougie’s aching, twitching hole.
Fill me, some fragmented part of Dougie inwardly shouted.
God, was that him?
“Sir . . .” he said instead, not sure what he intended to continue with. Fill me, please. Stop touching me. Let me go home. Where’s my brother.
“Shhh. You had your chance to beg. Quiet, now.”
Dougie clamped his lips shut, afraid of being gagged again. It had been days since he’d been freed from that dark hell, and his jaw still ached sometimes.
The finger teasing around the rim of his hole suddenly plunged inside him, passing so easily. God, it felt good. He bit into the sheets to try to smother any noises.
And suddenly it was over. Gone again.
Empty.
He rolled his hips, trying to tempt Nikolai into continuing. God, he was completely fucked. Not a person anymore, just a tightly wound wire figure made up of tangled nerves and need.
Exactly what Nikolai had made him. When had he stopped fighting? Started encouraging the man instead? Disgusting, Dougie. You’re fucking disgusting. A coward. Weak. Snap out of it. Right the fuck now.
“See how hungry your ass is now?” Yes, the finger returned. Plunging into him again, pulling away, rubbing at the rim of his hole. Tracing the outside edge of it. He clenched his eyes and teeth and fingers and tried not to want it, not to need it, not to let Nikolai control him this way.
As if sensing his resistance, Nikolai redoubled his efforts, one finger becoming two, sliding inside him to the knuckle, homing in on his prostate like a fucking bloodhound and rubbing firm little circles there, over and over. Dougie felt his resistance crumbling with every stroke, with every twinge in his screaming cock and balls, with every white-hot flash of pleasure racing up his spine. But he held on. He held on.
“For you, Douglas, pain need not be a daily occurrence. Which means this virgin hole needs . . . training. To accommodate whatever whims your master has for it. I know you’ve taken two cocks at once before—seen it for myself, in fact—but it needn’t hurt the way it did then. Not if you’re properly prepared.”
“No,” he murmured into the bed. What Nikolai was proposing . . . it wasn’t just training a behavior, it was training his body, physically remaking him. “What are you . . . But won’t I be . . . My ass . . . I don’t want—”
The hand in his ass pulled out, slid down, grabbed him hard around the ball sac and gave a cruel twist. “What did I say about talking? Or what you want, for that matter?” Dougie yelped, and the hand released him. Back to stroking his hole. Pushing him to the edge again. “Yes, this training means you’ll be stretched. Yes, in this and in other ways I intend to change you. But it’s not as bad as it could be, I want you to understand that. You aren’t a custom job, merely a happy accident, so I’m molding you according to my own tastes. When I buy for a client, I follow his exact instructions, and . . . let’s say some of the boys of your set don’t leave this house the way they came in. Piercings on a few, scarification, tattoos. Hobbling injuries to the feet and ankles.” He paused. “Castration.” Dougie shuddered. “Be grateful I’m so gentle with you. Be grateful I have the foresight to teach you now how not to suffer when one day your master takes his pleasure with his fists inside you.”
His fists? Plural?
“Don’t look so shocked, Douglas. We’ll get you there, I promise. But for now . . .” Those questing fingers left his ass again, and for one horrible moment, Dougie’s body angled up and clamped down, chasing after them, trying to hold them, until his brain caught up and told it to cut that shit right the fuck out. He wanted to bury his head in the pillow and never come back out again.
Might as well smother yourself and get it over with. He’s killing you anyway. Save yourself the pain of dying by inches.
“Come, Douglas.” Nikolai curled a hand around his biceps and pulled him upright, guided him into the bathroom. “Defecate. Then clean yourself well. This will be your last