Loyalties (7 page)

Nikolai didn’t acknowledge the needy little noise at all. Maybe hadn’t even heard it. But Dougie was too chicken to try again.

He turned his focus back to Roger’s cock instead, wrapped his lips over his teeth and nipped up some foreskin between them, sucked very, very gently and swiped his tongue across the flesh. Roger thrust up into his hand and mouth, a short, abortive motion like maybe he wasn’t supposed to be moving at all, and Dougie grinned to himself and repeated his nip-suck-lick, delighted at the thought that he was doing something right enough to make a man like Roger—possibly the best-trained and most devoted slave in the world—lose control.

Nikolai was teaching him well. Was he making Nikolai proud? He cast his eyes up again, hoping to draw the man’s attention, but Nikolai was still busy working a mark onto Roger’s throat. And yes, it was hot—God, was it ever hot, both their faces nearly
transcendent
with love and pleasure. But it also made Dougie, for one agonized moment, want to do something
stupid
, like maybe bite Roger’s cock. And then that moment passed and he was left with nothing but the burning desire to prove himself.

He redoubled his efforts, twisting his grip on Roger’s cock as he pumped and sneakily giving Roger’s foreskin a downward tug, exposing that sinfully sensitive head. Roger was starting to squirm in earnest, pushing forward into Dougie’s mouth and grinding back against what was no doubt Nikolai’s hard cock nestled up against his ass. If Dougie could make this good enough—draw it out long enough and make Roger move enough—maybe he could get Nikolai to come too. Like a secondhand orgasm. A chain reaction. Dougie’s hands and mouth getting them both off.

Roger whimpered, biting his lip, and his hands left the mattress, snaking up to curl around Nikolai’s arms. Much to Dougie’s surprise, Nikolai’s hands abandoned their torment of Roger’s nipples to twine with Roger’s fingers, and they clung to each other through their pleasure, hand in hand like real lovers.

No, not
like
lovers, they
are
lovers, just
look
at them.

The thought crushed something small and delicate in Dougie’s chest, but then he reminded himself he could have this too if he tried hard enough, was patient enough, good enough, trusting enough. He could be a lover to Nikolai. They could share moments like Nikolai was sharing with Roger. He just had to earn it first, that was all.

He tore his eyes away from their joined fingers and set about to earn this and more. Freed the arm he was propped on so he could take Roger’s balls in hand, cup them both and press his middle finger between them like Nikolai had taught him. Dougie almost didn’t hear Roger’s gasp over his own at the shocked jolt of pleasure he felt as he laid out flat on the bed and his cock pressed into the mattress. He knew it was wrong to chase that—this wasn’t about him and Nikolai hadn’t told him he could—but listening to Nikolai and Roger, watching the two of them together . . . God, he
needed
, and it wasn’t like he was neglecting Roger at all, could totally multitask here, and Nikolai probably wouldn’t even notice—

A sharp crack echoed in his ears, and half a second later, an equally sharp sting bloomed across his left ass cheek and he yelped, pulled back from Roger’s cock, glanced up at Nikolai with wounded eyes to see a crop in his hand and a . . . a
smile
on his face?

“Naughty boy!” Nikolai chided, but he didn’t seem angry, not at all, even if the warning was clear in his eyes—
Do it again and I really
will
be mad.
Maybe he was willing to give Dougie a little leeway after how well he’d served him today. Or maybe he was just feeling too good right now to get too worked up about anything as minor as Dougie humping the bed without permission. Whatever the case, Dougie wasn’t going to push his luck. He stilled his hips and put his hands and mouth back to work.

“Got carried away, did you, boy? My little pet?” Nikolai grunted as Roger ground back against him, Roger’s cock bumping the roof of Dougie’s mouth as he did. God, Nikolai really was going to come. He wasn’t instructing, he was
dirty talking
. “My sweet fuckable little boy, so turned on by the big plug in his tight ass and the big cock in his slutty mouth . . .”

Turned on? Yeah, actually, he really, really was. Well, maybe more by knowing how good he was making Nikolai feel than by the feel of a cock stretching his mouth, but still, tomato, tomahto, whatever.

“I should beat you for taking liberties,” Nikolai panted, and Dougie’s whine at that was pure instinctive fear, but of course it felt great against Roger’s cock and Roger just ground against Nikolai harder. “But I think—” Whatever he was thinking, Dougie (well, Roger) drove it right out of his head for a moment. “—I think you’ll learn your lesson well enough by the time this day is through.”

Dougie didn’t want to think about what that meant, but at least it seemed to mean that Nikolai
wouldn’t
beat him, so he counted that as a win and pushed it out of his head. No room in there for stray thoughts anyway, not between all the focus he was putting into making Nikolai (and Roger) come and all the focus he was putting into keeping himself from fucking the mattress. God, Nikolai looked so gorgeous like this, simultaneously completely in control and completely fucking losing it.

And right in the middle of that moment of adoration, Nikolai’s brow stitched together. “Don’t look at
me
, Douglas. Look at the man you’re servicing.”

Yes, sir.
Dougie forced himself to tear his gaze from Nikolai’s flushed face, down to the cock in front of his nose, just like the good little pet Nikolai wanted him to be. Knew that he was already.

Someone’s hand came down on the back of his head then—he didn’t know whose, didn’t really matter—and drove him down into Roger’s crotch, chin to balls, Roger’s fat cock filling his mouth and his throat and his fucking nose and sinuses and brain pan and everything else and he choked around it but didn’t panic,
didn’t panic
, because he’d done this enough now and Nikolai had taught him well and as unpleasant as it was, he knew Nikolai wouldn’t let Roger hurt him and he wanted to be good be good
be good.
The hand fisted so tightly in his hair it brought tears to his eyes, and from above him he heard Nikolai growl, “Come on his face,” and Roger panted out an eager, “Yes, Sir,” and then the hand was yanking his head back and Roger’s balls were pulling up beneath Dougie’s fingers and that thick cock filled his vision and blew all over his nose and lips and eyes.

He was surprised to discover that he didn’t mind it at all. Even poked his tongue out to lick at the cum dripping down his lips. It wasn’t the cum he
wanted
to taste, definitely wasn’t the cum he wanted soaking into his skin, but Nikolai had asked for this, wanted it, was so hot for it he was grinding out his own orgasm right now against Roger’s ass as Dougie’s tongue lapped at Roger’s jizz, and for that, Dougie was happy to be blinking the stuff out of his eyes.

Maybe next time, if he was lucky, Nikolai would stripe Dougie’s face instead.

He cast Nikolai a hopeful look, and had to bury another surge of jealousy when he realized that Nikolai was still fawning over Roger, kissing him now, hands stroking Roger’s bruised face, turning him to just the right angle for Nikolai to fuck Roger’s mouth with his tongue.

But that didn’t mean Nikolai didn’t love Dougie, or even necessarily that he loved Roger more. Because maybe this was all just a test, a chance for Dougie to prove that he could function on his own, that he wouldn’t fall apart without Nikolai supporting him every second of the day, that he knew his place in the hierarchy and wouldn’t ever push for more than he was entitled to. And if it
was
a test, he damn well meant to pass. So, as unobtrusively as possible, while Roger and Nikolai were still fucking each other’s mouths like a pair of teenagers, he licked Roger’s cock clean and then shimmied Roger’s sweatpants back up his hips. He couldn’t reach Nikolai, which was a shame because Nikolai was probably feeling pretty gross in his cum-drenched pants right now. Was it okay to go get a warm washcloth for him? Or shouldn’t he leave the bed? It wasn’t like either of them was paying him the slightest attention right now; would they even miss him? What was he supposed to
do
here? Why hadn’t Nikolai prepared him better?

He only realized he was starting to freak out a little when a hand landed on his shoulder and he jumped half out of his skin. “Easy now, little pet,” Nikolai soothed. His hand rubbed at the tense muscles in Dougie’s neck. “It’s all right. You’ve done well.” The strain in Dougie’s body eased at those words, and he darted a glance up to Nikolai, no longer lip-locked with Roger. No, now that mouth was turned to Dougie, formed into a swollen but approving smile. Dougie’s muscles went downright noodly at that. His jaw and wrist were sore. He hadn’t even realized. “Tell me, Douglas, what I’ve taught you to do after you service your master.”

A simple question he could answer. His mind settled at that. Cleared. No more panic. “Clean and attend him, sir.” Nikolai nodded, but said nothing more, and the panic began to creep back in. “But . . . But you were . . . I mean, I didn’t want to—”

“Interrupt?” Nikolai punctuated his question with a kiss to Roger’s earlobe. Roger’s eyes drifted shut.

“Yes, sir.”

“That was very smart of you to realize. No man wants to be pulled from kissing to answer a slave’s questions. If you find yourself in such a position in the future, where it’s clear you’re not needed for the moment, you may go to fetch a washcloth and fresh clothes for your master without waiting for permission. But don’t dawdle; if he wants you and turns to find you’re not there, it will not end well for you.”

Why did it seem like almost
everything
held the potential to end poorly for him? It hardly seemed fair. How could he know what to do when the master
might
want one thing or
might
want another thing but didn’t always want the same thing and couldn’t be bothered to tell him? He wasn’t a mind reader. He needed
orders
. Clear, no-interpretations-required orders. He’d fill them to the last, and happily, but all this uncertainty made him downright queasy.

“Do you have something to say, Douglas?” His master’s expression
dared
him to lie.

“I just— God, I’m sorry, sir, but sometimes I feel like it’s just a lose-lose situation.” And his unloved erection, hanging heavy and burning between his legs, didn’t exactly help with that.

Nikolai shrugged. “Sometimes it is.”

“Wh—”

“Sometimes it is a lose-lose situation for a slave. That’s the nature of your place in the world.”

My place.
Dougie couldn’t help it, he shuddered at that. Because
his place
, which had seemed so comfortable, so
safe
just a moment ago, suddenly seemed so fucking
terrifying
again. And even worse than the fear of being beaten for no fucking reason at all at any fucking time without any fucking way to predict or stop it was the fear that that fear might make him backslide. That it’d strip the thin veneer of civility and comfort from the life he was building here and remind him afresh of the ugliness underneath. And sure, he
knew
there was ugliness, but he’d been finding ways to live with it, hadn’t he? Ways to be
happy
with it, even—or at least happy despite it. But it was fragile, still—so fucking fragile—and he didn’t want to lose it.
Couldn’t.
Getting it back again would be too hard.

Nikolai studied him as he processed, as the fear in his head no doubt disseminated across his features. Roger was watching him too, silent and sharp. Nobody was judging him, he could tell that much, but beyond that, he couldn’t read either of them, and that uncertainty in the men who were supposed to be his rocks, his anchors, just made everything worse.

It was Nikolai, of course, who finally broke the silence. “But consider this: if a master is of a mood that he wishes to punish you for something you couldn’t predict or prevent, then perhaps taking the punishment is the best way to serve him, after all?” Dougie had no idea what to say to that, wasn’t really even sure what to make of it. But Nikolai took pity. “Think, Douglas. Haven’t you ever been so angry or so frustrated or wound so tight that you just wanted to
hit
something?”

Ah. Yeah, that made all kinds of sense. Just, a normal person threw their pillow at the wall, not their fist at a slave’s face. But the kind of men who owned men, well, they weren’t normal people, were they?

“Sometimes your master will be looking for an excuse to let out that aggression, perhaps without even knowing for himself that that is what he really wants. You will give in to him, and you will serve him, as happy in your suffering as in your pleasure when he takes your ass.”

Dougie nodded, trying to ignore the shame he felt at the wetness in the corners of his eyes.

“Just look at Roger.”

Roger leaned back into Nikolai’s chest, sated eyes closed, completely oblivious to the seriousness of the conversation going on around him. His expression and posture were so at odds with the horrible markings all over his body. The bruising. Brutal.

“He doesn’t enjoy being beaten, Douglas. He isn’t a masochist. But he is a
good
slave, so when I needed this from him, he undressed without being told to and stood still for me, and he did it with a kiss.
He
comforted
me
. And look at him now—look at
us
now. Look how happy we both are. Look how well I’m taking care of him.”

Dougie studied Roger again, who
did
look undeniably happy. Didn’t even seem to be in pain, though like Mat or anyone else who made a living being hard on their bodies, he’d probably just learned to not express it or pay it much mind. Then again, he had just gotten an expert blowjob, if Dougie did say so himself. And was lounging in his master’s arms, a whole day of tasks and orders replaced with affection and pleasure. A day he’d probably only earned
because
he’d taken some random punishment like a champ.