The Flesh Cartel (8 page)

He was having some difficulty keeping up, though. No wonder—they’d had themselves quite the long day, full of excitement and challenge, and his boy’s exhaustion was stamped in every line of his body. Not to mention his unsated desire. Nikolai debated scolding him for his slowness—any other master would, or worse, and Douglas needed to learn that—then debated simply telling him to rise, but in the end he merely slowed his own pace, let the boy show his devotion as best as his weary body allowed.

You’re too soft, Nikolai.

He half grimaced, half smiled at the familiar voice of his mentor in his head. Yes, perhaps he was. But he always got the job done, and done exceptionally well. Perhaps a touch of softness was an asset in this line of work. Or perhaps he was just rationalizing away his faults. Ah well.

Nikolai’s bedroom door was already open, the curtains drawn, the bed neatly made, one window cracked an inch or so to the crisp autumn air—precisely how he liked it. The whole room smelled of falling leaves, and vaguely of Roger, who hadn’t spent the night here in days but who came in to clean and straighten each morning. It was a comforting scent, one Nikolai had come to associate with
home
. Soon Douglas would feel the same.

Nikolai strode to the bed—four posters, of course, and an open canopy for all the binding points a man could ever desire—and the boy crawled along behind him, breathing hard, flushed and a little sweaty.
Beautiful
. And clearly exhausted, but that wouldn’t matter to his future master, so Nikolai couldn’t let it matter to him.

“Up you go, Douglas.” Nikolai patted the edge of the bed, and Douglas climbed up, grimacing. Clearly relieved to be off the hardwood floor. “Up on your knees, back straight, facing the headboard.”

Dougie arranged himself as ordered, more or less, arms hanging limp and exhausted at his sides. Nikolai put a hand over his spine and used his other hand to force the boy’s shoulders back. “Be proud in your service, Douglas. Sit tall.”

Again, Douglas obeyed, staying in place when Nikolai took his hands away. But he looked strained, too focused. Nikolai had pushed him hard today. And would push him harder still. A necessary lesson. One they’d have to work at again and again until the boy regained his stamina.

“Stay, just like that,” he said, then turned to fish a bottle of lube from his dresser, watching as Douglas tried to observe him from the corner of his eye without moving his head. “Eyes forward,” Nikolai ordered, because cute as it was, it simply wasn’t appropriate behavior. Douglas’s gaze snapped back to the headboard like an overstretched rubber band. Fine tremors ran through his shoulders and thighs. Frightened? Or merely straining to keep his balance on the soft mattress? Or perhaps he was simply cold; the room was on the cool side, and sweat was drying on his skin. “That’s good, Douglas,” Nikolai said as he stepped in close again. “No need to be afraid. I only wish to make you feel good.” A well-earned kindness. The boy sighed out his relief.

“Thank you, sir,” he murmured, eyes drifting momentarily closed, then opening again, pupils wide in the fading afternoon light.

“Don’t thank me yet.” Nikolai reached down and slowly twisted the plug free of the boy’s ass, heat flaring up in his sated cock at the sight of his cum drizzling down Douglas’s inner thighs. Such a primal, animalistic thing, to feel so satisfied at the sight, some leftover urge to breed and mark. He swept his fingers through the smear of cum and lifted them to Douglas’s lips. “Open,” he said, and Douglas did, eyes still distant as he licked and sucked away the stickiness from Nikolai’s fingers. No complaint, but no joy yet, either. “I love seeing you full of my cum,” he whispered into the boy’s ear, trying to bring him the rest of the way.

“I love making you happy, sir,” Douglas murmured back. He sounded so dazed. Still trembled softly.

“Is that so?”

“Yes, sir. More than anything, sir.” He didn’t sound dishonest so much as absolutely exhausted, wrung out, and Nikolai felt pity curl through him again. Too soft, indeed. Well, knowing his own weaknesses as a master simply meant he could adapt for them. He could walk the line, be both understanding and firm at the same time.

“Take this, then.” He picked up the discarded plug, sticky with lube and cum, and gently nudged it into Douglas’s mouth, pushing until the boy gagged and his nostrils flared. “I’m doing you a favor, understand? No need to talk anymore. No need to beg or apologize or explain yourself. Just let yourself take the pleasure I give you. Now . . .” He reached around, opening up the boy’s cock cage with practiced fingers. Gave the newly freed cock a slow pump.

Nothing. Flaccid.

If the boy could talk, Nikolai knew he’d be saying, “I’m sorry, sir, I’m just tired, sir, please let me rest, sir.” Instead, he whined and twisted. The effect on Nikolai’s mood was the same as if he’d complained aloud. “Douglas,” he warned. “I know we’ve had a long day, but being too tired to perform is a privilege not afforded to slaves like yourself.”

Douglas nodded, but still his cock didn’t rise.

How very disheartening. He’d never had trouble getting or maintaining an erection before, not even when he was new.

“Too much ‘contraband,’ perhaps? Sugar crash?”

Douglas mumbled something around the plug that sounded to Nikolai like
I don’t know, sir.

“You must learn discipline, Douglas. Stronger self-control.”

Another mumble, longer than the last. The boy clearly wished to make something known, but Nikolai had no intention of permitting excuses, not now.

“If ever I deign to treat you again, I expect you to know your limits and stop before you make yourself useless.”

No mumble this time, just a nod. The boy hung his head, the gesture contrite, but kept his shoulders squared and his back straight. Nikolai felt his irritation fade a little at that.

“You’ll push through it, Douglas. It’s bad enough you’re letting it show; I should punish you for it.”

A shudder. It looked like he’d started to shake his head, to beg, but then stopped himself. Lifted his chin, set his jaw.
Yes, sir
, that expression said.
I deserve it, sir. I’ll submit and be grateful.

Gods, Nikolai couldn’t stop himself from loving the boy. Wasn’t sure he even wanted to. “Shhh now. Shhh.” He stroked Douglas’s back. “I’ll help you. Do you want help to obey?”

A quick, fervent nod, and were those tears in the corners of Douglas’s eyes? Nikolai leaned in to kiss them away, tasted salt and exhaustion and . . . sadness? “I’m here for you, Douglas,” he murmured against the boy’s temple. Stroked Douglas’s cheek, then pulled the plug from his mouth and laid it on the bed beside them. “Talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Douglas sniffed back his tears, licked at sore lips, cleared his throat, and shook his head. “N-nothing, sir, I’m just . . . You’ve been so
good
to me and I’m letting you down and I’m sorry, I don’t want to let you down, sir, please . . .”

Nikolai waited for Douglas to finish his thought, but the boy fell silent, lips pressed tightly together, chin wobbling.

“I’m not angry,” Nikolai tried.

“T-thank you, sir. That’s m-more than I deserve.” Lips tight again. Chin still wobbling. Not fear, then. Was he truly so upset at his failure to perform for his master? So early in their training? Could Nikolai be that lucky?

No. Probably not. And whatever this was, it seemed unlikely to be a problem kindness could solve. There’d been nothing
but
kindness today. A firmer hand, perhaps. Nikolai stepped away, turned toward his walk-in closet. “No more tears, Douglas,” he said as he opened the closet door, rummaged through the shelves for what he needed. “You’ll make me think you’re unhappy to serve me. We wouldn’t want that, would we?”

“N-no, sir.” The boy’s watery voice drifted in on another sniffle, but then he took a deep breath, let it out slowly, loudly. Nikolai found what he was looking for and took it back to the bed.

No more tears had fallen in his absence. Even more pleasing, the boy was still holding position, arms tense at his sides and legs trembling with effort, but back still straight, eyes still forward, not tracking Nikolai’s movement—though the tension in his shoulders and neck made it clear that he wanted to. Nikolai opened his mouth to praise Douglas for his discipline, then thought better of it. It was time to be stern now. He laid the toy in his hand at Douglas’s knees—pleased again to see Douglas not trying to peek—and picked up the plug again. Lifted it to the boy’s lips and held it there, barely touching. Douglas unclenched his jaw and opened his mouth wide without needing to be told, even though he clearly took no pleasure—yet—from sucking on the silicone. “No more tears,” Nikolai reminded him as he swallowed hard around the plug, adjusting to its presence. The boy shook his head minutely.

Nikolai picked up the other toy, held it where Douglas could see it. “Do you know what this is?” The boy studied it, blue eyes wide and still shining with wetness (and now fear, Nikolai was sure of it), and shook his head.

“It’s a penis pump. Nothing to be afraid of—it should feel good. A bit strange, perhaps, but good. It will make you erect for me. Now be still.”

He leaned in close to Douglas’s groin, lubed the boy’s cock—not the slightest stirring of interest at his slick touch—and placed it inside the tube. Twisted the tube a few times to form a good seal against the boy’s freshly waxed groin, careful to keep his balls out of the way. Then he squeezed the pump once, twice. Douglas made a little startled noise around the gag, and his hips twitched, but he checked himself and went still and silent.

“This is a onetime free pass, Douglas. You must
always
be ready for your master, no matter how tired you are. If ever I need to make you ready again, there will be consequences, do you understand?”

The boy nodded, mumbled what Nikolai assumed was a
yes, sir
around the plug. Nikolai squeezed the hand pump again, one eye on Douglas’s filling cock and the other on the pump chamber’s pressure gauge.

Sweat pricked up Douglas’s face, and he blinked rapidly, obviously in an effort not to wince. Good, at least he was trying.

“Some masters buy slaves to use their cocks, but you probably will never be one of those. That doesn’t mean a master won’t want to see you hard or give you pleasure. Just remember that if he does, that act of giving is not selfless. He wishes to
see
your pleasure, take visual enjoyment from you. And you must perform.” Another slow squeeze of the hand pump. Douglas’s cock was swelling nicely, turning a deeper shade of red than its usual bright, healthy pink. “Tonight you’ll show me you understand. You’ll show me you’re stronger than your exhaustion. I’ll give you the gift of your pleasure, but you must unwrap it. Take it. Be active. And never forget who it’s really for.”

Douglas nodded again, but he was blinking too much, fingers clenching nervously at his sides. “Hands behind your back,” Nikolai snapped. The boy hastily obeyed. “If you can’t be still, I’ll bind you. You won’t like it.” Nikolai gave the pump another squeeze. Up to 4 inHg, and Douglas’s cock was bigger than ever, flush with blood, no doubt achingly hard. Enough for a first-time pumping session. The big question, of course, was whether it’d stay hard when the pump came off. Nikolai could warn the boy of the consequences of failure, but that might spark erection-withering fear or nerves. Then again, Douglas needed to learn to perform through all sorts of distress. Might as well start now.

“You’ll stay hard when this comes off,” Nikolai ordered, “or you’ll be punished. Understand?”

The boy’s nod this time was half frantic. He squeezed his eyes closed, clenched his teeth around the plug. As if he meant to hold his erection through sheer force of will. Gods knew it was possible. Hopefully the boy wouldn’t disappoint. Nikolai very much wished to see his face in orgasm tonight; he had less than no desire to turn the boy over his knee and stripe him red.

But he would if he had to.

Fortunately, he didn’t have to. He disengaged the pump, and Douglas’s erection sprang free, proud and leaking.

“Beautiful,” Nikolai said. “Absolutely beautiful. What a good boy.”

A lovely pink flush came to Douglas’s face that. Flattered? Nikolai hoped so. He meant it.

“That’s a cock I’d love to suck, but I think I’ve spoiled you enough for today. Time to perform for your master.”

Douglas nodded, the motion making the engorged cock between his legs bob.

Nikolai retrieved the bottle of lube from the bed and slathered both hands with it. “Good. I’m going to put my hand behind you, now. Three fingers out. You’re to push back, find those fingers, and fuck yourself on them.” He could have done this more easily in the bathroom, with a big dildo suction-cupped to a wall or the floor, but he wanted the intimacy of it being his hand. The dildo would have to wait. “And make it good for me.”

The alternating threats and encouragements seemed to have done the trick. Still with his hands clasped and his back rigidly straight, Douglas bent at the knees and waist and thrust his ass back, seeking Nikolai’s hand. Nikolai waited, palm up, until his fingertips brushed against that sweat-slick skin.

“That’s it. Just about there,” he coaxed, and after a little bit of slipping up and down, Douglas finally pushed back, Nikolai’s middle finger hitting his hole first and breaching easily.

A slow stretch, and the other two fingers followed.

“Make it good for me,” Nikolai reminded, and Douglas moaned on command, the sound muffled and sweet and just a little bit frightened, which gave Nikolai an extra thrill.

The second knuckle. The third. Nikolai’s hand was flush with that perfect, stretched ass, now. Another moan, and Douglas began to move, timidly at first as if he were afraid of losing the fingers so painstakingly found, and then faster, especially when Nikolai gently crooked his fingers.

“Sit up, back straight,” Nikolai ordered, and Douglas lifted carefully from his crouch, still holding Nikolai’s fingers in his ass as he returned to his old position. Nikolai curled his free hand around Douglas’s lube-slicked erection, squeezed, gave the boy a nice tight hole to fuck. And he would fuck it: Nikolai wouldn’t be jerking him off tonight. Douglas’s moan at the contact was much louder than the others, free of artifice. Sweat popped on his flushed skin again, giving him an enticing glow. He fucked forward into Nikolai’s hand, back onto his fingers. Back and forth, from pleasure to pleasure like a quick game of tennis. Panted hard. His thighs trembled. Behind his back, his fingers clenched and tangled around each other, white-knuckled. He bared his teeth around the plug, screwed his eyes shut. Exhausted as he was, he looked ready to blow any moment.