Trials and Errors (4 page)

But no honeymoon could last forever, and as much as Nikolai hated to say it, it was time to move on to the challenge and drudgery of marriage. Time for Douglas to prove he was committed enough to make this work in the long term. To take the bad with the good. To perform even when the performance was distasteful or downright painful. He’d need to arrange for the boy to prove his dedication to service with a man not his rightful master—a cruel and unhygienic one, to be specific. And then there was Douglas’s debut to consider, although that wouldn’t be for at least another month, depending on the boy’s performance. There was also, of course, the final severing with his old life. In that, at least, Nikolai could kill two birds with one stone.

He’d begin, then, with the most challenging test. Well, he had never been a timid man.

Dougie liked these quiet moments best.

He liked nearly everything, lately, but if he had to pick a favorite, this would be it, just sitting quietly at Nikolai’s feet, letting his mind wander where it would, while Nikolai above him handled everything important and stressful and demanding. He could barely remember what it felt like to be stressed, to be thinking about money and deadlines and assignments and scholarships and Mat’s fights and the job market. That life was a fading dream . . . No, it was a
nightmare
Nikolai had woken him from.

Nikolai’s cock in his mouth was soft but heavy on his tongue, a constant warm weight that he happily took on. He’d suckle on occasion, or steal a swipe with his tongue, and Nikolai would chuckle and let him, or sometimes if he was trying to concentrate, flick him on the ear or pinch his cheek, but never cruelly. If Dougie was very lucky, Nikolai would harden and lengthen in his mouth, and if he was
very
very lucky, Nikolai would let Dougie bring him off, right there in the keyhole of his desk while he worked, and then let him swallow a big gratifying mouthful of cum. The petting and praise that’d inevitably follow was nearly as satisfying as knowing he’d been responsible for Nikolai’s pleasure.

For now, though, Nikolai stayed soft, and that was just fine, too. Dougie lounged between his master’s legs, head pillowed on his master’s thigh, and mentally rehearsed piano exercises to the clack of Nikolai’s rhythmic typing. Sometimes on days like this, when Nikolai’s work went long and he didn’t want to be disturbed even for a moment, the soft cock in Dougie’s mouth would fill his throat with something entirely different from cum. No pleasure, no warning, just a hot bitter flow, endless and choking. (God, the first time he’d vomited, and Nikolai had been so angry that Dougie was
glad
he’d beaten him.) But Dougie was a good boy, and after that first time, he’d learned to endure because it was his duty, and performing that duty made Nikolai happy.

Not today though, luckily. Today was lazy and long and Dougie was warm and safe and happy, drifting yet still anchored.

It was because of this drifting that it took a moment for him to realize Nikolai was speaking, and he flared with panic and self-recrimination—
What if I missed something important? How could I let myself lose focus on my master?
—but Nikolai didn’t sound angry at all.

“—special planned for you today, Douglas. A challenge. I’m afraid that you may not like it, but I have full faith that you’ll make me proud.” A hand reached down, gently stroking Dougie’s hair, which had grown floppy. He’d never worn it long before, but then, he’d never worn women’s underwear or played cock-warmer before, either. “Because you’re my good boy, aren’t you Douglas?”

Dougie hummed around the cock in his mouth and leaned his head into Nikolai’s stroking hand.
My good boy
. They were the sweetest, most joyous words he could ever hope to hear, and yes, of course Dougie would perform, of course he’d make his master proud. He’d be absolutely brilliant. He’d do so well that Nikolai would never doubt him again.

Even if, sometimes, in the darkest, most quiet hours of the night, he occasionally—maybe a little—still doubted himself. That soft insidious voice he couldn’t quite silence, the one he thought of as “Before” Dougie, the frightened, lonely, aimless child striving desperately, futilely, for everything Nikolai gave him so freely. But like most children, its voice was shrill when it was angry, when it demanded attention, when it shouted words like
Stockholm Syndrome
and
he trusts you now, use it to your advantage and run away before it’s too late.

He tapped frantically at Nikolai’s thigh, and the hand in his hair tugged gently back, giving him the permission he’d sought to speak. “It’s happening again, master,” he whispered the moment Nikolai’s cock left his mouth. He missed it already, wanted to chase it back, but this was important, and Nikolai would fix it; he always did.

Nikolai pushed his chair back. Then a second hand came down to cup Dougie’s face, urged him forward out of the keyhole and tilted his head back until he was looking up into Nikolai’s eyes. “Shhh,” his master said. Stroked his hair, his cheek. He didn’t want or deserve this kindness; he wanted,
needed
Nikolai to turn him over his lap and punish him until his screams were louder than that damn
voice
. “Fight it, Douglas. Use your logic. You’re too smart to let it mislead you.”

No, no, he wasn’t, not right now with that gaping chasm of
doubt
the voice had dug in his chest. He couldn’t think, couldn’t focus, couldn’t bring his hammering heart under control. He clung to Nikolai’s pants, closed his eyes, and tried to narrow his world to the feel of his master’s loving hands on his face, the warmth of his master’s body, the residual taste of his master’s cock on his tongue.

“This challenge I’ve planned for you will help, Douglas.”

Challenge. Test. Oh God, how could he perform a test right now? He’d fail. The voice would rise up and distract him and make him doubt and he’d
fail
.

“Easy, Douglas, easy.” Fingers stroking at his hair, thumbs caressing his cheeks. “I’ll give you a correction afterward, if you still need it. But not now.”
Yes. Now. Please.
“Now I need you to find your center on your own. Prove to me you can.”

Dougie squeezed his eyes tight, clenched his hands into hard fists until his trimmed fingernails dug into the skin of his palms.
My master’s hands. My master’s warmth. The taste of my master’s cock. You’re a good boy, Douglas, such a good boy . . .

His breathing slowed. His heart calmed. Nikolai believed in him, and if his master believed in him, then he could believe in himself.

“There, there, good boy. That’s a good boy,” Nikolai recited, hands gentling Dougie down. Once Dougie’s cheek was to Nikolai’s thigh and his breathing had quieted, Nikolai said, “Now. Today you’re going to learn to perform with another slave for your master’s pleasure.”

Well jeez, that didn’t sound so bad at all. Had the real test been Dougie’s reaction to hearing his master say that it was a challenge Dougie wouldn’t like? It was true that Dougie liked sex with his master best, but he could do anything just so long as he knew Nikolai enjoyed it. Besides, Dougie had done plenty of performing with Roger already. Maybe the test this time would be to perform with someone like Jeremy? Even that wouldn’t be too bad; Jeremy was difficult to get along with, but he and Dougie had a pretty good working relationship by this point. Dougie was sure he could handle taking that relationship to another level.

“You will find some things about this slave . . . distasteful.”

Oh. Was he . . . was he ugly, maybe? Dirty? Dougie could handle the first one—
just think of Nikolai, no trouble—
but the second one made him apprehensive. Still, if he could swallow Nikolai’s urine, he could suck sweaty cock. But what if it was worse than that? What if Nikolai wanted him to rim the guy and he was . . . he was . . .

“You’re starting to hyperventilate again, Douglas. Your master needs you to be calm.”

Calm, right. He could do that. He
could
. No point in working himself up over something that might or might not even happen, after all. Just trust Nikolai, and wait to see what his master wanted of him. Stop second-guessing. Stop
worrying
. Nikolai would take care of him. He always did.

“That’s better.” Nikolai reached a hand out to draw Dougie to his feet. He tapped the intercom on his computer and said, “Roger? Is everything ready?”

“Yes, master,” came through the laptop speaker.

Hmm, maybe it was Roger, after all. Well then, that wasn’t bad at all. Dougie liked Roger. The only way he’d ever be distasteful to Dougie was if he’d rolled in shit or something. Which, oh God, maybe he had—

No. Don’t think about it. Just
trust.

Before he could get too worked up again, Nikolai stood too and guided him out the door and down the hall. To the stairs that led nearest to Dougie’s bedroom. Down into the basement. His heart picked up pace again. He didn’t like that; his bedroom was supposed to be a safe space. This whole
house
was supposed to be a safe space. He hated being afraid of it, of any of it.

When they reached his bedroom door—which was closed; he hadn’t left it that way this morning—Nikolai took him by the shoulders and maneuvered him in front of it. Kept his hands on Dougie, nice and firm, and Dougie had to stop himself from leaning back into the touch even as he couldn’t help but think that Nikolai was standing this way to stop him from fleeing when he saw what was behind that door.

“Go on,” Nikolai said. “Open it.”

It’s just Roger. You’re psyching yourself out with all this second-guessing.

Dougie’s sweaty palm slipped on the doorknob.

“I’ll be right behind you,” Nikolai reminded him, and that was all Dougie needed.

The door swung open.

The bed was empty.

A chair by the table . . . was not.

Dougie smacked hard, face-first, into something solid, and only then realized he’d turned and fled and run right into Nikolai.

“This exercise isn’t optional, Douglas.”

“No. No no
nonono
please master, you can’t, you
can’t
,” Dougie blubbered, because it wasn’t Roger tied to the chair, wasn’t Jeremy, wasn’t a man covered in shit and piss, wasn’t even a fucking
dog
.

It was
Mat
.

His
brother
. His brother who hated him and, oh, by the way, was his
brother
. Tied and gagged and naked and struggling and
his brother
.

Nikolai grabbed Dougie by the shoulders,
hard
, and forcibly turned him to face the horror at the center of the room. Someone—Roger, presumably—had sat Mat in that chair and tied his wrists to the back legs and his ankles and knees to the front legs and fitted a cruel black gag into Mat’s mouth—the one with the little penis that reached all the way to the back of your tongue and made you choke if you weren’t careful, Dougie recognized it from his own early days here and it was awful, awful—so that all Mat’s noises of protest, mirroring Dougie’s own, were reduced to drooly grunts and whines.

Dougie planted his heels and clutched at Nikolai’s hands on his shoulders. “Please, please master,
please
, I don’t even want to see him. Please just let’s leave. I’ll do anything you want, you’ll see, anything at all but
this
.
Please.
”

Nikolai was unmoved. His hands tightened painfully on Dougie’s shoulders and shook, rattling his head on his neck. “
This
is what I want. You need to learn to service a man you hate. You need to learn to service an
unwilling
man. And more than anything, you need to learn to let go of all your silly, stupid morality, all the trappings and judgments and pointless rules of your old life.”

Mat howled, jerking so hard at his restraints that he was making himself bleed. Dougie whined for both of them, “No no no, please, please, he’s my—he’s my—”

“Douglas.” Nikolai’s voice was artificially calm, a raging anger rising underneath, an anger Dougie had never seen before.
Just punish me. Punish me and be done with it and then we can be happy again, I’ll be good, I’ll do anything else, anything.
“He’s nothing to you now. You’re not the broken man you came to me as, you’re something new. You’re mine and mine alone now, and you
have no brother
. This slave is nothing to you. Nothing but a means to please me, to prove yourself to me. There’s lube on the table. Kneel in front of this slave and prepare yourself. When you’re done, you’ll use your mouth—just your mouth—to get him hard. He will get hard, Douglas, he’s very virile. When you’re done, you’ll ride him for me. And then the test will be over and that voice in your head will go silent for good. Sever the last thread that ties you to your failures, Douglas. Prove to me you’re ready to be mine.”

I don’t have a brother. I don’t have a brother. I’m Nikolai’s boy now, not Dougie Carmichael at all, and this man isn’t my brother, he’s just a slave, he’s just a slave and he’s not my brother and I’m Nikolai’s boy, I’m not Dougie Carmichael, I’m Douglas Petrovic, Douglas Petrovic, Douglas Petrovic.