The Flesh Cartel - Episode #4: Consequences

towel away and come sit.”
    Fuck you, don’t tell me what to do. Fuck you, pervert. Fuck you, well rested my ass.
    But Mat said, “Yes sir,” and pulled the towel from his body. Wouldn’t give Nikolai an excuse to
    . . . to . . . He tore his eyes from the needle, back to Nikolai. The man wasn’t even looking at him
    strip. Did he not get off on it? Then what the fuck was this fucking place and why the fuck was he
    here? Mat dropped the towel to the floor.
    “Really?” Nikolai asked. “Are you really trying that? Don’t be a slob. Pick it up and put it where
    it belongs. Now. Consequences.”
    God, Nikolai’s conditioning and mind games must have been working, because just the first
    syllable of that word made him shudder. The needle. The needle on the table. Mat quickly stooped to snatch up the towel.
    “Don’t dawdle in there,” Nikolai called after him. “You can’t avoid this forever.”
    Avoid what ? What have I done this time?
    God, he was going crazy. Turning into a beaten dog. His mind went over the last twenty-four
    hours, trying desperately to come up with an explanation, a reason why he could be punished. He’d
    slept in the bed like he was told. Was he not supposed to shower without permission? Was he not
    supposed to sleep under the covers? Was he . . .
    He fell back into the main room, where Nikolai still waited. “Come sit,” Nikolai said, then
    snapped his fingers and pointed to the empty chair across from him.
    Mat forced himself into the seat.
    “Have you ever injected yourself before?” Nikolai asked casually. “With a needle like this?
    Steroids, perhaps? Blood doping? Heroin? Be honest.”
    God, what the fuck kind of question was that? Mat opened his mouth to speak, but his throat was
    so tight. He shook his head. He still couldn’t take his eyes off the fucking needle.
    Which meant he didn’t see Nikolai’s slap coming until it was too late. Not that he could’ve done
    anything about it, anyway. Maybe it was better that he hadn’t seen; what if his body had reacted on its own?
    “You’ll speak when told to, boy. If I ask you a question, I expect a clear answer. At the very least
    ‘yes, sir’ or ‘no, sir.’”
    Mat rubbed at his stinging cheek. A ridiculous thing to do, as hard and as often as he’d been hit in
    his life. “No, sir,” he managed. “Never.”
    It wasn’t even a very big needle. Like a flu shot, maybe. Or an insulin injection. Certainly not the auto-injector. Why the change?
    Nikolai laid his fingertips atop it and pushed it across the table. To Mat. Casual as could be, like
    it was a mug of beer or some shit instead of pure hellish fucking torture in a syringe. “I want you to inject yourself with this. Do you think you need instructions on how?”
    Mat’s heart dropped into his stomach. “Inject my . . . but why , sir? What did I do? Look, I—
    whatever I did, I’m sorry. I’ll fix it. I won’t do it again. Please. Please, please sir.”
    All pride gone, Mat slid out of his chair, down to the floor. On his knees. He fucking crawled to Nikolai’s feet, pressed his lips to Nikolai’s instep—wasn’t that a thing guys like him liked? He’d
    fucking lick the sole of his shoe if it meant he wouldn’t have to do this. “ Please, sir, I’ll suck you, I’ll do whatever you want—”
    Nikolai grabbed Mat’s wrist—Mat had been reaching for Nikolai’s fly, hadn’t even realized it—
    and twisted it to straining in a simple joint lock. “What I want ,” he said, “is not to have to repeat myself. As any master would expect. Instant, unquestioning obedience, Mathias. Though I’ll grant you
    that my client does want the illusion of struggle. So if you must argue? At least pretend to fight , not grovel like some toothless dog. Now get up.” He let Mat’s hand drop.
    Mat scrambled back to his chair and sat again. The needle was still there waiting for him. Just
    looking at it made him want to puke. He didn’t take it. “Can’t you at least tell me why, sir? I mean, if it’s a consequence, shouldn’t I at least—”
    “You only get explanations for what I do when I think it prudent. Unquestioning obedience. Don’t make me say it again, because then there really will be consequences. Take the syringe. Now. ”
    If I’ve already injected myself with this stuff, what else can he fucking do? What consequences
    could possibly be—
    Dougie. He wouldn’t he said he wouldn’t. But oh God does that mean anything does his