The Flesh Cartel - Episode #4: Consequences

you in front of a mirror, or maybe have someone else fuck you so I can savor
    you. The view is just as good as the experience, in your case.”
    If those words brought the boy any pleasure, he didn’t show it. In fact, he looked closer to tears
    now than he had before.
    “I want you to touch yourself, Douglas. You must never do this without permission— explicit
    permission—do you understand? And you must not come without the same. But this, here, now, is all
    about teaching you pleasure. So take yourself in hand. Show me how you like to stroke yourself.”
    Douglas’s eyes widened. Yes, there were the tears, streaking down his temples to his ears. He
    shook his head. “Please no. I can’t. I can’t. Just fuck me, sir. Please just fuck me. Fuck me hard with your big cock, please.”
    Wrong answer.
    Nikolai seized Douglas’s hand with crushing force and mashed it against the boy’s cock, pinning
    the shaft between his palm and his belly.
    “Do not try to trick me. I am not an animal at the mercy of my base urges or my ego, and I won’t be treated like one.” He pushed harder, until he knew the boy’s erection would be withering from the
    pain. “Do you understand me?”
    More tears. Douglas nodded, as rapidly and urgently as he’d been shaking his head.
    “You’ve gone soft,” Nikolai told him coolly, as if it were a simple observation, rather than an
    effect of his own actions. “Get yourself hard again.”
    Nikolai let go of Douglas’s hand, but the boy made poor use of his freedom; he flexed his
    trembling fingers, then stroked the tips of them halfway down his shaft, as if petting a newborn kitten he was afraid of harming. Then his fingers clenched into a fist, and a sob broke free from his lips.
    “I can’t , sir, please .”
    “Your brother said the same thing to me, and I’ll tell you what I told him: you can and you will.”
    He allowed himself a single thrust with his own cock, pulling out nearly all the way and then
    slamming back in. He didn’t expect it to hurt very much, if at all, but it no doubt shocked—the boy
    wailed. “Do you remember how I told you this didn’t have to hurt, Douglas?”
    A shaky, sniffly nod, a wobbly, “Yes, sir.”
    Nikolai thrust again, gentler than the last time. “The choice is yours, Douglas. You may choose
    pleasure, or you may choose pain. You’ve endured much pain since your procurement, and scant little
    pleasure. I can give you both like you’ve never known. You must learn to grab hold of pleasure when the opportunity presents. Such opportunities may be few and far between. Do you understand?”
    Another shaky nod. “Y-yes, sir.” But still the boy didn’t take himself in hand. Perhaps Nikolai
    was being too subtle for his fragile state of mind.
    “Should I hurt you now, Douglas? Or will you grab hold of your pleasure?”
    “Please don’t,” Douglas said, tears flowing free now, and ah—there was his obedience. He
    wrapped his fingers around his soft cock, gave it a tug, another. Adjusted his grip and tried again.
    “There’s my good boy.” Nikolai smoothed both palms across Douglas’s chest, gently tweaked
    his nipples. “Here, let me help you.”
    And at that, he gave himself over to their shared pleasure, thrusting slowly but steadily, deep and
    careful. The boy moaned in time to his thrusts, his cock firming up again in his experienced hand.
    “Enjoy this,” Nikolai whispered into his ear. “Touching yourself is a pleasure afforded to very
    few in your position. In fact, I may cage this cock when we’re finished here, just to teach you the true value of my kindness.”
    Douglas’s reply was unintelligible, a high whining moan through tightly sealed lips.
    “Mmm, yes,” Nikolai groaned, hips stuttering a little now. “I like the idea of that. How long do
    you think you can go without coming before you rethink your lack of gratitude? Sucking me, having my
    cock in your ass, every single day and never finding your own release. You’ll cry to let me touch you
    like this. You’ll do anything to feel this pleasure and freedom.”
    “No,” Douglas whimpered back, still jerking himself, hand flying over his shaft making lovely
    wet slapping noises, the sound of a thoroughly abused cock. “I won’t beg, I won’t, I won’t, I—” Like
    a skipping record. Close to orgasm, then.
    No, not close. Done already.
    The boy’s fingers were webbed with cum. Cum on his heaving stomach, even on his chest. His
    strokes were