Authors: Rachel Haimowitz,Heidi Belleau
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Horror, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Thrillers & Suspense, #Psychological Thrillers, #90 Minutes (44-64 Pages), #Lgbt, #Thrillers, #Psychological
“Understood,” Dougie said, not sure whether to call the man “sir” or not. He was a slave, Dougie thought, but his mannerisms were so . . . in control. Maybe even in service, men got to be themselves. Roger was kind. Dougie would be earnest and sweet and a little nerdy, just as Nikolai was encouraging him to be. Just as he’d always been, but better.
Still himself. The thought made him smile.
He was still smiling after Jeremy left, as he opened the drawer with all the plugs. The heaviness in his chest was fading. He hoped Roger was okay. Maybe he’d gotten sick or maybe he’d hurt himself and Nikolai was taking care of him, like he always took care of Dougie, like he seemed to take care of everyone else in his charge. A good man. Like a father, almost. Strict, but loving.
Dougie eyed the wide array of plugs, and his smile faltered a little.
He said you’d know what to do.
Except Dougie
didn’t
know what to do. What was the plug for? Did Nikolai want him distracted while he worked? Happily distracted or uncomfortably distracted? Or did he just want Dougie ready to be fucked when the time came? In which case, stretched to Nikolai’s exact specifications . . . The thought made Dougie’s cock chub up a bit and he gave it a stroke. He liked the thought of that, wearing a Nikolai-sized plug. It would edge on uncomfortable, but he’d be full and thinking of Nikolai. Uncomfortable
and
happy.
Except, this wasn’t
about
him, was it. No, it was about Nikolai. And maybe Nikolai would want Dougie’s ass to be tighter when he breached him, which would mean a smaller plug. And, wow, he should really stop touching his cock, shouldn’t he, because
that
was all about Nikolai, too—it was Nikolai’s cock now, and his pleasure was Nikolai’s decision to make. He pulled his hand away, surprised at the flush of guilt heating his cheeks. Maybe if he admitted to Nikolai what he’d done, how he’d accidentally touched himself thinking about being ready for Nikolai . . . Well, maybe Nikolai would go easy on him and maybe he wouldn’t, but either way he had a sneaking suspicion he’d feel better about himself for the confession. And surely
that
meant he was transforming, too. A good sign. All good signs.
But he still didn’t know what Nikolai wanted. And if he got this wrong, Nikolai might . . . might
beat
him. He’d warned Dougie about that, after all. Just as bad, Nikolai would be unhappy with him. And he might be transforming and growing and getting better, but he still felt enough of his old self to know how
fragile
all that was, and he wasn’t sure he could handle Nikolai being unhappy with him right now. Was afraid of how he might react. Was afraid he’d backslide in the face of Nikolai’s disapproval.
He didn’t want to start fighting Nikolai again. He
had
to get this right.
So what would Nikolai want?
Tight. Ready. And really, with how kind he’d been, would he want Dougie in pain? No, pain was for punishment. The plug was a tool, a way to make sex more convenient, a way to help Dougie remember his place. He stared at the plugs, estimating measurements, eventually finding one that looked the same size as Nikolai’s cock—girth and length—and because they were neatly arranged by size, selected the next one down the line. Just a little bit smaller, almost not even noticeable, but for Nikolai it would feel different for sure.
It was bright blue and curved and soft to the touch, and Dougie shivered with anticipation as he drizzled it with lube, using a little extra to make sure he’d be nice and slick inside for Nikolai when the time came.
If
the time came, he reminded himself. Nikolai was busy today, after all. Nikolai was Dougie’s first and only priority, the center of Dougie’s universe, but Dougie couldn’t be the center of Nikolai’s. Nikolai loved him, he knew that, but he was a man with responsibilities, with people who depended on him, and that meant that Dougie would have to put his own needs and wants aside when they didn’t coincide with Nikolai’s needs and wants.
And be happy for it.
Besides, the fact that Nikolai felt he
could
leave Dougie alone for a day was just one more in a long list of signs that Dougie was getting closer and closer to what he needed to be. To what Nikolai was grooming him to be. Transformed. His best self. After so long spent afraid of never reaching that point no matter how hard he tried, it was finally happening, and all he’d had to do was trust Nikolai, give himself over. Nikolai trusted him. Nikolai trusted him to make this decision. Nikolai trusted him to please his master.
The joy of that filled his chest to bursting.
He didn’t think he could possibly feel happier, but then he was pushing the plug into his body, a little discomfort but no real pain because Nikolai had so patiently taught him how to relax. He fucked himself with it teasingly just as Nikolai had done, picturing that it was Nikolai’s cock inside him, that Nikolai was fucking him and he was so tight and willing, and Nikolai would be so happy. So happy.
And Dougie was happy too.
Roger shifted against Nikolai’s chest, settling a little lower between his legs with a contented sigh. The bed was comfortable and Roger sleepy and warm in his arms, the skin of Roger’s stomach smooth against the palm Nikolai had slid beneath the hem of his T-shirt. He had one eye on the laptop balanced atop the comforter in Roger’s lap, but the other firmly on Roger, who’d so willingly given so very much in service to him yesterday. Who’d more than earned this day of pampering—they both had, truth be told—of lounging in bed with lazy snuggles and unhurried affection.
And a laptop. But then, some responsibilities could simply not be shirked. Anyway, Roger actually seemed more interested in the new pets’ camera feeds than Nikolai was. He supposed the man had earned that too—he’d certainly been instrumental in their growth these last days.
Nikolai pressed a kiss to the side of Roger’s head, then another—and then one more, why not?—as Roger flipped the primary feed from Douglas’s room (the boy had been staring at his collection of plugs for what seemed like hours now) to Mathias’s.
“See, Sir?” Roger said—practically purred, in fact, as Nikolai indulged in another nuzzle, this time to that sensitive spot behind Roger’s left ear. Roger shivered and pointed at the screen, and lo and behold, Mathias was
out of bed
. And more than that, he was
eating.
Nothing too heavy, just broth and apple juice, but still the first nourishment to pass his lips in ten days. Looking grim and determined, too. “I told you it’d all be worth it.”
“You did,” Nikolai agreed—out loud, anyway. Secretly, he still wasn’t so sure; certainly, they’d achieved their ends, but the means had come at a steep price. “What would I do without you?”
“Waste away and die, probably.”
Nikolai laughed at the playful tone, but stilled himself with a mental kick as Roger hissed. He must’ve jarred something particularly painful. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like a stronger painkiller, Roger? Morphine? I can give you something to take the edge off the nausea too. You can rest.”
Roger wiggled a little, settling himself more firmly in Nikolai’s lap, ass rubbing hard—but so briefly it might’ve been unintentional—against Nikolai’s crotch. “You’re the best painkiller of all, Sir.” He wrapped both hands around Nikolai’s forearms where they rested on his belly, and added, “I’d hate to—”
Nikolai wondered for a moment how he meant to finish that sentence, but then Roger blushed clear to the tips of his ears and Nikolai understood:
I’d hate to fall asleep through one second of this.
“I’d still be here when you wake up,” Nikolai tried. He hated knowing that his own workaholic habits had made moments like these so rare and precious that Roger would rather suffer to have them than not suffer and risk missing them. Nikolai might be a good trainer—the best, even—but the hard truth was that he wasn’t a very good
master
sometimes.
Roger made no reply to Nikolai’s attempt to sway him, and Nikolai allowed the silence. He buried his nose in Roger’s freshly washed hair, inhaled deeply, and went back to watching the monitor over the top of Roger’s head.
Despite refusing the stronger painkillers, it didn’t take long for Roger’s breathing to even out and his fingers to go slack on Nikolai’s arms. Nikolai was sure he was sleeping, but then Roger murmured, half-slurred, “Look, Sir,” and pointed vaguely toward the picture-in-picture.
Nikolai had been watching Mathias—he’d practically licked his tray clean and then dragged his ridiculously stubborn ass onto the treadmill, even if it was only going at a slow but grueling walk—so he’d failed to notice Douglas finally picking out a plug. He couldn’t quite tell which one it was from the tiny picture, so he hit the key to flip the images around just in time to see something curvy and blue disappearing into the boy’s ass. There were only two blue plugs in Douglas’s room, and one of them was far too large to have slotted in so neatly without preparation. Which meant the boy had chosen the mid-sized one. The one just half an inch shorter and a sliver thinner than Nikolai’s own cock. The one that would leave him well prepared for Nikolai, but not so loose as to be disappointing.
Nikolai felt a grin spread clear cross his face.
What a good, bright boy you are.
Even poor sleepy Roger seemed to perk up a bit, watching him.
Nikolai slid his hand back up beneath the hem of Roger’s shirt and stroked warm circles on his bare stomach. “Would you like to have him?” he offered. The mere thought of watching Roger and Douglas together made his cock firm against Roger’s ass.
Roger expertly non-answered with, “If it would make you happy, Sir.” And then, when Nikolai’s hand stilled—a clear warning he wanted truth, not pandering, “He’s very, very pretty, Sir. And clever. A thoughtful boy. He has a good heart.” Nikolai started stroking again, and Roger added with a shrug, “But, he’s not . . .”
You. He’s not
you
, Sir.
Nikolai’s heart (and other crucial parts of his anatomy, truth be told) swelled so hard at that he couldn’t help himself—he cupped Roger’s chin, turned his head to the side, and kissed him.
Roger opened so fast beneath him it was as if the man had simply
melted
, all lips and tongue and breathy little moans of
want
and
need
and
please, yes, Sir
, and this time when he squirmed back ass to crotch, there was no question at all of his intent.
Time to put a stop to this. He didn’t want to hurt Roger.
“Be still,” he said, and pulled away, and Roger whined but fell obedient, didn’t chase after his lips or wiggle his hips again. But oh gods, those
puppy eyes
. Had he been anyone else, Nikolai would’ve slapped the attempt at manipulation right off his face. But it
wasn’t
anyone else. It was Roger, his sweet, beautiful, selfless, loving Roger, and the man
wanted
, and he was damn well entitled to want after all he’d been through for Nikolai this week.
“Be still,” he said again, and then he toggled the microphone on his computer and called down to the speaker in the kitchen, “Jeremy, when the new boy gets there, send him to my room.”
He just hoped he and Roger wouldn’t have to wait long.
“There’s been a change of plans,” Jeremy said without turning when Dougie arrived, flushed and buzzing with excitement, at the door to the kitchen. “You’re to go straight up to the master’s suite. Lucky little shit.”
Dougie blinked, not sure whether to apologize or what. Had Jeremy meant to say that last bit aloud? Was it okay for him to talk that way? Would Nikolai approve?
“Don’t think you’re getting out of chores though, little favorite. I’ll be saving my dishes for you. Better hope you don’t have sensitive skin; the last boy I had on dish duty got chapped hands and the master spanked his ass twice as raw for it.” Jeremy may not have been facing Dougie, but Dougie could
sense
his cruel grin. He wouldn’t be surprised if he found out the guy had been spitting in his food while Nikolai wasn’t looking.