The Flesh Cartel - Episode #4: Consequences

shall we say, much more cooperative than you.”
    Right on cue, Mathias’s face contorted—not in pain, but in animal fury, like the fighting dog he
    was. “You fucker! Don’t you fucking dare tell me you . . . you . . .” His voice cracked again, clenched fists relaxing. Out of strength.
    “He was quite willing, I assure you. I didn’t have to resort to any kind of violence with him at
    all. He has a keen sense of self-preservation . . . unlike you.”
    Mathias’s body jerked, but without direction, more a spasm than an attack. Then he stilled again.
    The anger passed in favor of . . . tears? No, not quite. Just a shining in his eyes and a wobbling at the corners of his mouth. “Please. Please, sir . I’ll suck you from now on. I’ll do a good job. You’ll love it. You can have my ass, too. Don’t make Dougie do what you want from me .”
    Nikolai thought on that for a moment—Mathias’s fear had returned, but fear for his brother or
    fear of the needle? Both, most likely. A fine line indeed he was walking. The trick would be
    discovering how to keep him there, hateful but pliant, without pushing him too far again.
    He reached out, stroked the flat of his palm ever so gently over Mathias’s buzzed hair. Like
    petting a cat, almost. A decidedly pleasant sensation. Mathias even held still for it—so still he’d
    stopped breathing.
    “What I want from you and what I want from Douglas are two very different things, I’m afraid.
    And neither of you can provide for me what the other can.” Stroke, stroke. “I know you cannot
    conceive of this now, Mathias, but you must learn to let your brother go. You cannot care for him
    anymore; his fate is out of your hands.”
    Ah, now Mathias jerked his head out from beneath Nikolai’s hand. Eyes narrowed, teeth
    clenched. “You have no idea what it means to love someone, do you,” he spat, though the effect was rather lost to his rasping whisper.
    “Of course I do. But your brother will be letting you go. This I promise you.” Nikolai stood, fetched a cup of water from the en suite, brought it back and held it just out of Mathias’s reach.
    “You’d do well to learn from his example.”
    “His example,” Mathias echoed, although it sounded much more ominous the way he said it.
    “Yes. Look out for yourself. Serve me to save yourself.”
    “Fuck you,” Mathias said, but it lacked venom. He was too tired. But that was all right; even
    from the floor, he was swinging.
    “Sit up or I’ll fuck you .” Not a threat, merely an . . . encouragement. It did its job. Mathias spent the next minute or so peeling himself off the floor and climbing onto the bed.
    “There’s a good boy.” Nikolai handed him the water. “Drink this. I’ll have Roger remove your
    stitches and bring you food. You must keep your strength up these next many weeks.”
    The water was gone in three seconds. He could see Mathias fighting not to ask for more, not to
    hold the glass out. Well, the sturdy plastic cup. He’d be a fool to give Mathias anything he could use
    to slit his own wrists.
    “You can ask for more. You’ve suffered so much already; do you really wish to continue
    suffering for your pride?”
    “Pride’s all I have,” Mathias replied, purposefully tossing the cup aside. Nikolai watched it roll
    under the bed. “Pride, and Dougie. And you can’t take either of those away from me.”
    Nikolai laughed, patted Mathias a little too hard for comfort on one cheek. “That’s good,
    Mathias, that’s very good. Never stop saying that. Of course . . .” He bent over, hooked his arms in
    Mathias’s armpits; the man was far too weak and tired to struggle, knew better than to try in any case
    lest he accidentally harm Nikolai. Nikolai dumped him face-first over the edge of the bed, pressed a
    hand to the back of Mathias’s neck to hold him in place, and unzipped his pants with the other. “. . .
    What you say and what you believe may end up being two very different things. So tell me, Mathias.
    Will you spread those beautifully muscled ass cheeks and offer me your hole, or will you face the
    consequences?”
    A moment’s furious pause, as expected, while Mathias, fists and jaw and eyes all clenched,
    weighed his choices. And then, equally expected, two trembling hands reached back, unfisted, and
    gripped white-knuckled around the flesh of his ass. Parted it. Offered himself, his much-abused hole.
    Madame’s pear had absolutely ravaged him, not to mention his