The Flesh Cartel #9: Trials and Errors

stupid morality, all the trappings and judgments and pointless rules of your old life.”
    Mat howled, jerking so hard at his restraints that he was making himself bleed. Dougie whined for both of them, “No no no, please, please, he’s my—he’s my—”
    “Douglas.” Nikolai’s voice was artificially calm, a raging anger rising underneath, an anger Dougie had never seen before. Just punish me. Punish me and be done with it and then we can be happy again, I’ll be good, I’ll do anything else, anything. “He’s nothing to you now. You’re not the broken man you came to me as, you’re something new. You’re mine and mine alone now, and you have no brother . This slave is nothing to you. Nothing but a means to please me, to prove yourself to me. There’s lube on the table. Kneel in front of this slave and prepare yourself. When you’re done, you’ll use your mouth—just your mouth—to get him hard. He will get hard, Douglas, he’s very virile. When you’re done, you’ll ride him for me. And then the test will be over and that voice in your head will go silent for good. Sever the last thread that ties you to your failures, Douglas. Prove to me you’re ready to be mine.”
    I don’t have a brother. I don’t have a brother. I’m Nikolai’s boy now, not Dougie Carmichael at all, and this man isn’t my brother, he’s just a slave, he’s just a slave and he’s not my brother and I’m Nikolai’s boy, I’m not Dougie Carmichael, I’m Douglas Petrovic, Douglas Petrovic, Douglas Petrovic.
    He sucked in a huge, wet breath and stepped out from the sheltering force of Nikolai’s grip. Toward Ma— No, the slave in the chair, just some slave in a chair . Toward the bound slave. A foot closer. Another foot. Nearly there now. He was crying. Powerfully, helplessly, endlessly. Didn’t matter. He’d performed through tears before; he could do it now. The tied-up slave was crying too, but silent, stoic, like Dougie wished he could be. Just tears and tears and tears, soaking his trembling cheeks and jaw. His teeth were bared around the penis gag. He wasn’t making any more noise. He looked . . . resigned. Sick. Helpless. All the things Dougie had put behind him—forever, he’d thought. This slave was an animal. Untrained, wild. Dougie wouldn’t be like him, not again. Never again. He wouldn’t .
    He dropped to his knees between the slave’s bound-open legs. Stared at the soft cock resting, forlorn, against the firmness of his left thigh. Uncut, like his own. Of course it was, they were broth—
    No. Shut up shut up shut up don’t think about it he’s nothing to you he’s nothing he’s nothing he’s nothing.
    Dougie picked up the lube in one trembling hand. Fought with the cap. Lost. Felt a sob overtake him, and next he knew, somehow, he’d thrown himself into Mat, chest on his lap, cheek pressed to his stomach, arms around his waist and the chair back, sobbing and sobbing and wishing Mat’s hands were free so he could shove Dougie away ( stroke your hair ), show him how much he hated him ( hug you back ), how vast the differences between them had become ( he’s still your brother, always your brother, nothing will ever change that ). But Mat’s hands weren’t free, of course, and Dougie’s master was looming over him now, and the anger was coming off him in waves. Anger, but also disappointment, which was so much worse, God, but as much as Dougie wanted ( don’t want at all, you fucking monster ) to please his master, he couldn’t. He couldn’t do this to Mat. He’d take the punishment, he would. He’d take the punishment for both of them, he’d take another baseball bat up the ass, he’d even bear Nikolai’s disappointment and go back into the dark room alone and slowly starve to death. He’d let himself be sold to a master who’d castrate him and break his feet and make him crawl every day for the rest of his life.
    “Douglas, you have one more chance to please your master. Get back on your knees right now and put that slave’s cock in your mouth. Consequences, Douglas. Worse than you’ve ever known, do you understand me?”
    Mat arched his back, bumping their chests together, as if trying to knock Dougie off him. “ Hws ,” he grunted through his gag, the sound so high-pitched there was nothing it could be but “Please.”
    Oh god, he wanted to, he wanted to. Wanted to obey, to make Nikolai happy, to show him he was a good boy, such a good boy . Wanted to throw