The Flesh Cartel 5 by Rachel Haimowitz; Heidi Belleau

Author:Rachel Haimowitz; Heidi Belleau [Belleau, Rachel Haimowitz; Heidi]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: erotic MM, Romance MM
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

chapter

four

he hours passed in absolute agony. Dougie couldn’t sit,

Tcouldn’t stand, couldn’t walk, couldn’t eat, couldn’t

piss, couldn’t do anything but suffer. His whole body was one unending ball of pressure, like instead of a plug up his ass, there was a pump filling him inch by inch with concrete. A heavy,

expanding mass carried in his belly, and he couldn’t make it go away, couldn’t relieve it for even a second.

At some point, he slept. And dreamed, as he always did

these days, of hands and mouths and cocks, of being pinned,

fucked every which way. And of Nikolai. Always of Nikolai,

in his perfect suit with his perfect manners and his perfect

fucking control.

He woke to a damp spot on the bed beneath his caged

cock—no relief, hadn’t come, but he’d leaked that clear fluid again—and a breakfast tray on his little table. How the hell

did he keep sleeping through the food deliveries?

That bothered him less than he thought it should’ve.

Every-fucking-thing else was slipping away here, so losing his situational awareness hardly rated. Maybe that was for the

best. Who knew what he’d do to whoever brought his food, if

he saw them. What he’d beg to have done to him.

He should eat. He wasn’t hungry, but he should eat. If

he let himself get weak or dehydrated, it would only make

things worse. He needed to be strong. Not let Nikolai beat

him at this. Be strong for Mat. Prove . . . prove what, exactly?

Something. Something to Mat. That he could be strong too.

43

That he really wasn’t the revolting, sniveling little creature Mat had seen him as since they’d been taken.

Eat. Get up. Table. Food.

He struggled to his knees, balls hanging unbearably hot

and heavy and sensitive between his legs. Tried to shuffle to

the edge of the bed without touching his thighs together,

without accidentally brushing his nuts. Impossible. The

chain on his nipples, which had seemed so delicate before,

felt as if it weighed a hundred pounds, swinging pendulously

underneath him as he crawled. And of course there was the

plug, in this position angling into him like a man fucking

him from behind, and God, he wished it were a man, because then it could be over soon, the man could fuck him and pump

him full of cum and let him come, and he’d happily clean the taste of his own ass off the guy’s cock if it would mean a little rest, a little sleep without dreams or pain or weird wet spots, a chance to move without feeling that fucking thing so fat and rigid inside him, buzzing endlessly, shaking him to fucking

pieces.

Stop thinking so fucking much. Get up. Eat.

Standing, walking seemed impossible. He swallowed a

sob and crawled. Pathetic, but at least there was no one here to see him. At least he was moving. He pulled himself up by the chair, the lip of the table. No way could he sit. He fumbled the tray onto the floor instead, spilling the glass of orange juice.

No napkin on the tray. Toilet paper in the bathroom might as

well have been six states away. Couldn’t clean the mess.

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