Free The Flesh Cartel #5: Wins and Losses by Heidi Belleau Page A

could think what he wanted as long as he wasn’t mad. Dougie hunched his shoulders, tried to make himself smaller, humble, invisible. Hoped Nikolai was done with him, but no, of course he wasn’t. He gestured Dougie back to the bed. Dougie was no fool; he crawled. Didn’t have to think about that, either. It felt frighteningly natural. Easy. Even if the weight of the chain hanging down between his nipples as he moved made them scream again.
Nikolai had him lie on his back. “I’ll take these clamps off, and then you can go clean yourself up.”
More relief, huge and heady. “Yes, sir,” Dougie managed, and, “Thank you, sir,” because he really was grateful at the thought that this pain would end, that Nikolai would see it ended, so grateful he hardly knew how to contain it and didn’t want to anyway, wanted Nikolai to understand he was sincere, to not be mad at him again, to not punish him, to smile at him and tell him he’d been good because he couldn’t fucking handle any more consequences or he’d shatter like a glass dropped off a fucking roof and then cut himself to ribbons on the pieces.
“Now I don’t know if you’ve ever worn something like these before, though I’m assuming not. This will hurt, Douglas. Terribly.” No, no more pain no more hurt I made you happy didn’t I? I was grateful, I was grateful! “Shhh, it’s all right, it’s not a punishment, Douglas.” Nikolai laid a hand on his chest, gentle, soothing. “But circulation is going to return to some already sensitive and tender tissue, and that isn’t a good feeling. In fact, I’d liken it to torture. But it’s a necessary pain to avoid more serious consequences, and when it’s over, you’ll feel much better. I promise.”
He smiled, the expression kind of half-cocked and weirdly charming and oh fucking God help him, was he starting to rationalize ways that Nikolai was attractive?
“A little like my work with you here, actually. What an apt metaphor for this entire process!” Another smile, more inward this time, as if he were as pleased with himself as he was with Dougie. “Now, I’m a bit concerned that since you’re quite unaccustomed to pain, you may . . . flail a bit at the sensation, and in doing so make things worse for yourself. Since this really isn’t a punishment, I’d rather that didn’t happen. Do you understand?”
Dougie nodded, swelling with that same strange gratitude and relief. Not a punishment doesn’t mean to hurt me isn’t mad at me isn’t mad.
“So in light of that, and at risk of scaring you more by asking . . . would you like me to strap you down?”
No, no, he didn’t want to be restrained again, not ever again, no more ropes or chains or straps or— “You, sir. Please, I . . .” I’m afraid. I’m scared and I’m more alone than I’ve ever been and I’m tired of hurting and I need someone, a drop of kindness, of gentleness, I need—
Good God, Dougie, stop. But it was true. He did want Nikolai’s hands on him. Wanted to be held, even if it meant being held down. Wanted some assurance that his life here didn’t have to be all pain, that Nikolai could be—what, a lover? A protector? A father?
No. God no. None of that. Never.
But the damage was already done. Nikolai grinned, and Dougie’s heart fluttered like he was in fucking love with the guy. Just relief. “You’ve pleased me very much, Douglas. And yes, I will. And hold you afterward too, if you’d like, in reward for your honesty. I can be very affectionate, you know, if that’s what you need from me. I know you’ve convinced yourself I’m cruel, and perhaps sometimes by necessity I am, but what’s the saying?” He spread his hands magnanimously. “I’m large. I contain multitudes. Now, let’s get this over with.”
He climbed onto the bed, then pulled Dougie up into his lap. Wrapped his left arm securely around Dougie’s shoulder and held him close. Grasped the first nipple clamp in the fingers of his right. “Hold