The Flesh Cartel - Episode #7: Homecoming

Nikolai moaning into his mouth as Dougie began to ride him again. Dougie smiled against Nikolai’s lips, bounced faster in Nikolai’s lap, closed his eyes, and relished the friction in his own ass, sensation sparking hot and bright in all his secret places, all the parts of him only Nikolai had ever lit with passion, all the parts of him only Nikolai could claim. His cock was downright painful in its cage, pressing hard against the silicone sleeve, desperate to break free, to swell and burst like his nuts would surely do any second now if he couldn’t find release. But he trusted Nikolai to give it to him when it was time, when it would most make Nikolai happy, because that was the only appropriate time for Dougie to feel pleasure now. Because Nikolai’s pleasure was Dougie’s pleasure. And when the time came for their pleasures to entwine that way, Nikolai would make it fucking mind-blowing.
    For both of them, it seemed, judging from the breathy little pants and words of encouragement spilling from Nikolai’s lips. That praise caressed Dougie as surely as Nikolai’s hands on his skin, lips on his jaw, cock in his ass. Made him feel just as good. Better, even. He closed his eyes again, let his head tilt back, let Nikolai’s words vibrate against his throat. “Gods, you feel so good , Douglas, so good, look at you, you’re so ready for me, so eager—” Yes, all those things, I’ll be everything for you, I’ll give you everything, I’ll be everything you desire. “Such a nice tight little hole.”
    Hole.
    Not you have but you are , and hadn’t Nikolai said Dougie wasn’t a hole? And Dougie had believed him—because he’d wanted to, desperately so, needed to because he was trapped here and that little piece of humanity Nikolai had gifted him with was all he had now. Because he was a person, and maybe Nikolai hadn’t even meant it that way— hole, hole, hole —but there was nothing stopping the anxiety that ratcheted Dougie’s stomach as he realized what a fool he’d been, how fucking much of Nikolai’s Kool-Aid he’d drunk, how powerfully and totally he’d lied to himself about who he was, what he was to Nikolai.
    Hole.
    Hot bile choked his throat and every muscle in his body seemed to clench, and all it did was make Nikolai moan—no, fucking roar —as he pounded up into Dougie’s ass and used that weight and leverage on Dougie’s hips to slam him down, and Dougie knew Nikolai was coming, his nails digging into Dougie’s skin and his teeth marking Dougie’s shoulder in primal dominance as he flooded Dougie’s ass with hot seed.
    Just a hole to be used, a dog to be fucked and bred and owned, because if Nikolai wanted willing submission he could find guys like that, but he didn’t, he wanted a pet of his own making, wanted the thrill of absolute fucking domination, of asserting himself, and that was what Dougie was. All that was left for Nikolai to do was throw him to his hands and knees on the floor and bite his fucking neck and knot in him like a dog and this horrible ritual would be complete.
    Nikolai pounded up into him again, teeth sinking past pain into Dougie’s shoulder, and God but he must’ve been a good little hole to make Nikolai lose such control. Nikolai had styled himself to be some kind of god above it all, some new evolution of man, and he was— ha! —he was a fucking animal, just as driven by need and lust and instinct as everyone he looked down on. It took Dougie to bring that out in him, just as it took Nikolai to bring out the scared, submissive animal in Dougie.
    You can’t let him know.
    For a moment the thought froze Dougie— He’ll realize you’re faking, he’ll be furious, he’ll hurt you, he’ll hurt you all over again, all of it, right back to square one —but then the panic rushed in behind it and mobilized him. Fake it ’til you make it , he reminded himself, even if he’d never been farther from making it in his life. He plastered on his smile, his look of desire, his false eagerness to please. Squirmed in Nikolai’s lap as Nikolai rode out the aftershocks. Returned Nikolai’s fervent kiss— believe me believe me nothing’s changed believe me —even as fear gnawed desperately at his guts that he could backslide like this, lose every scrap of progress he’d made toward becoming Nikolai’s good boy. And all because of a single careless syllable spilled from Nikolai’s lips in the heat of his passion. It seemed he couldn’t move