Read The Flesh Cartel #6: Brotherhood for Free Online Page B

fuck him in the ass, please sir.
“Douglas?”
He was going to be sick.
“I don’t like to repeat myself, Douglas.”
“Get off me.” Dougie shoved at Nikolai, kicked out of bed. Stumbled to his feet and rushed for the bathroom. Dropped to his knees in front of the toilet.
Nothing came out. He’d barely eaten in days.
Just cum.
Nikolai had made him eat his own cum. Every single day. And finally he’d broken, begged—
He retched. Started to cry.
“Oh dear,” Nikolai said. Dougie whirled around, found him standing in the doorway. Hadn’t even heard him coming. “I don’t suppose you simply ate something that didn’t agree with you?”
“Yeah, you,” Dougie growled, then instantly cringed away, hand flying to his mouth. What the fuck was he thinking, saying shit like that to Nikolai?
Consequences. Consequences. He couldn’t handle any more fucking consequences. He’d break again. He knew it. “I’m sorry,” he said, breathless, retching again. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
Nikolai tsked, shook his head sadly. “No, you’re not.”
“I am. Oh God, sir, I am. I am. I am.” He fell forward, prostrating himself. Crawled up to Nikolai’s bare feet.
“This isn’t remorse, Douglas, it’s fear. I promise I won’t hurt you now if you just tell me the truth.” Nikolai squatted down, cupped Dougie’s chin in his hand and forced him to meet his eyes. “I want to help you, Douglas, remember?”
Dougie shook his head, blinked back tears.
“Do you remember, last night, what you said to me? You said, ‘I want to be who you want me to be. Please, sir, tell me how. Help me.’”
“No,” Dougie moaned, shaking his head, chin stubble rasping against Nikolai’s palm. “No, I didn’t, I can’t have . . .”
“I have a very good memory, Douglas. Perhaps not eidetic, but very, very good.”
Has he ever lied?
Would I even know?
Dougie pulled back, just enough to see if Nikolai would try to hold on to him. He didn’t. Dougie sat back on his heels, hunched his shoulders, folded his arms across his chest. Dougie knew the posture screamed defensive but couldn’t seem to stop himself. Or his fucking tears, either. “You pushed me,” he said, throat tight, words accusing. “You hurt me. You hurt me. What did you think I’d say?”
“Exactly what you needed to say. The right thing to say. You want to please me and make your pain end. You want to accept this. Even now, you’re wishing you could have just stayed in bed in my arms. You’re angry at yourself that you couldn’t. You’re not angry at me. You’re simply placing that anger on me because I’m the only person you have to shift those feelings onto.”
Dougie’s tears dried up with every hateful word Nikolai said. “No,” he growled, and he felt stronger now, surer, because this was wrong, Nikolai was wrong and he knew it. Well, wrong about part of it, anyway. “No. I’m mad at you because you did this to me. Because you’ll keep doing this to me until I’m not mad at you anymore. Until all I see is the gentle hand and not the cruel one.” Or worse, until he believed he deserved the cruel one when it came.
Nikolai chuckled, stood, walked back into the bedroom and sat down on the edge of the bed. Stretched his legs out like a man waiting to be waited on. And Dougie fucking followed. “My poor little psychology student. You think you have all the answers, don’t you. But this is real life, Douglas. Not a textbook. Not a case study. And you are angry with yourself, and you are projecting it onto me. And the fact remains that yes, you do want to see only the gentle hand and not the cruel one, because you know you have no other options. Either you suffer and suffer like your fool brother, or you accept the gift I offer and take my gentle hand.”
Dougie was still standing—a small victory. Last night, he would have crawled. Now, he forced himself to stay standing, to fight the urge in him that called him to kneel at Nikolai’s feet, rest his