Read The Flesh Cartel - Episode #4: Consequences for Free Online Page A

it was better that he hadn’t seen; what if his body had reacted on its own?
    “You’ll speak when told to, boy. If I ask you a question, I expect a clear answer. At the very least
    ‘yes, sir’ or ‘no, sir.’”
    Mat rubbed at his stinging cheek. A ridiculous thing to do, as hard and as often as he’d been hit in
    his life. “No, sir,” he managed. “Never.”
    It wasn’t even a very big needle. Like a flu shot, maybe. Or an insulin injection. Certainly not the auto-injector. Why the change?
    Nikolai laid his fingertips atop it and pushed it across the table. To Mat. Casual as could be, like
    it was a mug of beer or some shit instead of pure hellish fucking torture in a syringe. “I want you to inject yourself with this. Do you think you need instructions on how?”
    Mat’s heart dropped into his stomach. “Inject my . . . but why , sir? What did I do? Look, I—
    whatever I did, I’m sorry. I’ll fix it. I won’t do it again. Please. Please, please sir.”
    All pride gone, Mat slid out of his chair, down to the floor. On his knees. He fucking crawled to Nikolai’s feet, pressed his lips to Nikolai’s instep—wasn’t that a thing guys like him liked? He’d
    fucking lick the sole of his shoe if it meant he wouldn’t have to do this. “ Please, sir, I’ll suck you, I’ll do whatever you want—”
    Nikolai grabbed Mat’s wrist—Mat had been reaching for Nikolai’s fly, hadn’t even realized it—
    and twisted it to straining in a simple joint lock. “What I want ,” he said, “is not to have to repeat myself. As any master would expect. Instant, unquestioning obedience, Mathias. Though I’ll grant you
    that my client does want the illusion of struggle. So if you must argue? At least pretend to fight , not grovel like some toothless dog. Now get up.” He let Mat’s hand drop.
    Mat scrambled back to his chair and sat again. The needle was still there waiting for him. Just
    looking at it made him want to puke. He didn’t take it. “Can’t you at least tell me why, sir? I mean, if it’s a consequence, shouldn’t I at least—”
    “You only get explanations for what I do when I think it prudent. Unquestioning obedience. Don’t make me say it again, because then there really will be consequences. Take the syringe. Now. ”
    If I’ve already injected myself with this stuff, what else can he fucking do? What consequences
    could possibly be—
    Dougie. He wouldn’t he said he wouldn’t. But oh God does that mean anything does his word
    mean anything do I deserve his word I’m a fucking dog to him.
    Mat picked up the syringe with fingers trembling so hard he dropped it almost immediately.
    Picked it up again. Maybe Nikolai didn’t mean Dougie. Maybe he meant . . . who knew, maybe a 24/7
    intravenous drip of this shit? How long could he live like that before his heart gave out? Or worse,
    his mind? How many times had he begged to die today alone?
    “It would help if you took the cap off.”
    God, was that humor in the sick fuck’s voice? Mat couldn’t make his hands work. Why couldn’t
    he make his hands work?
    Nikolai laid one of his own hands across Mat’s, helping to steady him. Mat worked the cap free.
    “A large muscle, if you would. The top of the thigh, perhaps.”
    Mat looked down at his own naked thigh and swallowed back the urge to vomit. It was a near
    thing, never mind that he hadn’t eaten since what he assumed was yesterday. He gripped the syringe in
    his fist, held it over his leg . . .
    “I can’t ,” he said. Begged.
    Nikolai looked none too pleased. Not giving an inch. Firm, like a disappointed father. Ugh, what
    a sick fucking thought. “You can. You will .”
    “Please,” Mat tried again, but was already pushing the needle into his thigh. It bit the muscle, and
    then—
    “Push the plunger,” Nikolai ordered.
    Mat did, squeezing his eyes shut. Hardest fucking thing he’d ever done, and he’d buried his
    parents, lost his brother to the foster system,