The Flesh Cartel #9: Trials and Errors

Nikolai enjoyed it. Besides, Dougie had done plenty of performing with Roger already. Maybe the test this time would be to perform with someone like Jeremy? Even that wouldn’t be too bad; Jeremy was difficult to get along with, but he and Dougie had a pretty good working relationship by this point. Dougie was sure he could handle taking that relationship to another level.
    “You will find some things about this slave . . . distasteful.”
    Oh. Was he . . . was he ugly, maybe? Dirty? Dougie could handle the first one— just think of Nikolai, no trouble— but the second one made him apprehensive. Still, if he could swallow Nikolai’s urine, he could suck sweaty cock. But what if it was worse than that? What if Nikolai wanted him to rim the guy and he was . . . he was . . .
    “You’re starting to hyperventilate again, Douglas. Your master needs you to be calm.”
    Calm, right. He could do that. He could . No point in working himself up over something that might or might not even happen, after all. Just trust Nikolai, and wait to see what his master wanted of him. Stop second-guessing. Stop worrying . Nikolai would take care of him. He always did.
    “That’s better.” Nikolai reached a hand out to draw Dougie to his feet. He tapped the intercom on his computer and said, “Roger? Is everything ready?”
    “Yes, master,” came through the laptop speaker.
    Hmm, maybe it was Roger, after all. Well then, that wasn’t bad at all. Dougie liked Roger. The only way he’d ever be distasteful to Dougie was if he’d rolled in shit or something. Which, oh God, maybe he had—
    No. Don’t think about it. Just trust.
    Before he could get too worked up again, Nikolai stood too and guided him out the door and down the hall. To the stairs that led nearest to Dougie’s bedroom. Down into the basement. His heart picked up pace again. He didn’t like that; his bedroom was supposed to be a safe space. This whole house was supposed to be a safe space. He hated being afraid of it, of any of it.
    When they reached his bedroom door—which was closed; he hadn’t left it that way this morning—Nikolai took him by the shoulders and maneuvered him in front of it. Kept his hands on Dougie, nice and firm, and Dougie had to stop himself from leaning back into the touch even as he couldn’t help but think that Nikolai was standing this way to stop him from fleeing when he saw what was behind that door.
    “Go on,” Nikolai said. “Open it.”
    It’s just Roger. You’re psyching yourself out with all this second-guessing.
    Dougie’s sweaty palm slipped on the doorknob.
    “I’ll be right behind you,” Nikolai reminded him, and that was all Dougie needed.
    The door swung open.
    The bed was empty.
    A chair by the table . . . was not.
    Dougie smacked hard, face-first, into something solid, and only then realized he’d turned and fled and run right into Nikolai.
    “This exercise isn’t optional, Douglas.”
    “No. No no nonono please master, you can’t, you can’t ,” Dougie blubbered, because it wasn’t Roger tied to the chair, wasn’t Jeremy, wasn’t a man covered in shit and piss, wasn’t even a fucking dog .
    It was Mat .
    His brother . His brother who hated him and, oh, by the way, was his brother . Tied and gagged and naked and struggling and his brother .
    Nikolai grabbed Dougie by the shoulders, hard , and forcibly turned him to face the horror at the center of the room. Someone—Roger, presumably—had sat Mat in that chair and tied his wrists to the back legs and his ankles and knees to the front legs and fitted a cruel black gag into Mat’s mouth—the one with the little penis that reached all the way to the back of your tongue and made you choke if you weren’t careful, Dougie recognized it from his own early days here and it was awful, awful—so that all Mat’s noises of protest, mirroring Dougie’s own, were reduced to drooly grunts and whines.
    Dougie planted his heels and clutched at Nikolai’s hands on his shoulders. “Please, please master, please , I don’t even want to see him. Please just let’s leave. I’ll do anything you want, you’ll see, anything at all but this . Please. ”
    Nikolai was unmoved. His hands tightened painfully on Dougie’s shoulders and shook, rattling his head on his neck. “ This is what I want. You need to learn to service a man you hate. You need to learn to service an unwilling man. And more than anything, you need to learn to let go of all your silly,