The Flesh Cartel - Episode #4: Consequences

word
    mean anything do I deserve his word I’m a fucking dog to him.
    Mat picked up the syringe with fingers trembling so hard he dropped it almost immediately.
    Picked it up again. Maybe Nikolai didn’t mean Dougie. Maybe he meant . . . who knew, maybe a 24/7
    intravenous drip of this shit? How long could he live like that before his heart gave out? Or worse,
    his mind? How many times had he begged to die today alone?
    “It would help if you took the cap off.”
    God, was that humor in the sick fuck’s voice? Mat couldn’t make his hands work. Why couldn’t
    he make his hands work?
    Nikolai laid one of his own hands across Mat’s, helping to steady him. Mat worked the cap free.
    “A large muscle, if you would. The top of the thigh, perhaps.”
    Mat looked down at his own naked thigh and swallowed back the urge to vomit. It was a near
    thing, never mind that he hadn’t eaten since what he assumed was yesterday. He gripped the syringe in
    his fist, held it over his leg . . .
    “I can’t ,” he said. Begged.
    Nikolai looked none too pleased. Not giving an inch. Firm, like a disappointed father. Ugh, what
    a sick fucking thought. “You can. You will .”
    “Please,” Mat tried again, but was already pushing the needle into his thigh. It bit the muscle, and
    then—
    “Push the plunger,” Nikolai ordered.
    Mat did, squeezing his eyes shut. Hardest fucking thing he’d ever done, and he’d buried his
    parents, lost his brother to the foster system, spent the last few weeks in Madame’s dubious care. He
    ground his teeth, waited for the fire to start.
    It didn’t. He opened one eye, then the other. Looked down at the needle, suddenly unsure he’d
    gotten it into himself. But no, there it was, sticking out of his thigh like some kind of grotesque
    sideshow. He pulled it out, watched a single bead of blood well up.
    “You see?” Nikolai sounded pleased. When Mat looked up, he found him smiling.
    “Unquestioning obedience, Mathias. This was never meant as a punishment.”
    A test? Some kind of sick fucking test ?
    “But it could have been, had you refused me. Do you understand now?”
    “Ye . . .” He blinked, his tongue thick in his mouth, like it was made of toffee or something. No,
    that didn’t make sense. “Yessir.” Oh God, he was slurring.
    Oh. It felt good. His vision swam, his body pulsed with warmth, and he should have been
    frightened or furious at being drugged like this but God it felt so damn fucking fantastic . Christ, he even had the beginnings of a hard-on.
    “Your brother has taken well to this lesson already, Mathias. Life here need not hurt. Well . . .”
    he shrugged. “Yours may no matter what you do, and I’d be remiss to pretend it might be otherwise.
    But there can be much pleasure as a pleasure slave, if you allow it. Embrace it. Or, in your case, don’t fight it too hard. Remember this: you must struggle, but you must always let your master win in the end. And the end comes when he decides it, not when you do. Follow those rules and you may
    find yourself feeling this good again.”
    Token resistance, then give in. Got it. It all seemed so simple when he put it like that. So easy.
    Mat slumped back in his chair. Would Nikolai mind if he went to bed now? He just wanted to close
    his eyes. Float. Bask in this . . . whatever it was. Not hurting. Yeah, that was it—bask in not hurting.
    “I’d like to talk to you now, Mathias. Honestly.”
    Honest. He could do honest. “You suck. Um, sir .”
    Oh God, had he said that out loud ?
    Nikolai laughed. “I’ll forgive that on account of the drug, Mathias. But what I would really like
    to talk about is your brother. Will you tell me about him?”
    “Doan’ wanna talk about him,” Mat replied.
    “I’d prefer if you did.” Nikolai’s tone was warning. Even high out of his mind, Mat picked up on
    that.
    “What d’you wan’ me to say? He’s my brother. I love him. I miss him. I’m afraid for him.”
    “He’s flourishing here, you know.”
    No. “Bullshit. No.”
    “Yes. I think in less than a month, he’ll have learned to be very happy here. With me. With his
    new purpose.”
    “He adapts.” The thought made Mat suddenly, blindingly proud. “He’s a smart kid, no’ like me.
    He does what he’s gotta to get by.”
    “How do you feel about that?”
    “Scares me. Makes me feel like . . . like I dunno him. Can’t know him. Me, I’m always the same
    no matter what. Him, he’s who he needs to