A Strong Hand (22 page)

And it can be adjusted to fit the thighs, with the wrists cuffed to them."

"Very creative," Damian approved. His eyes got a faraway look as he started to compose a shot in his mind. "Perhaps Markie in black again; he might do well with the collar and belt."

"And red for Nick?" Ashley asked slyly.

"Green for Derek?" Damian sniped back.

"Perhaps, in time," Ashley said, his eyes softening as he went to join the younger man in the kitchen.

Markie sulked as he waited to be given his next costume.

He had rather hoped that Ashley might take a fancy to him after the first night they spent together and then this short, pudgy kid with the amazing eyes had come along, ruining everything.

Damian took in the signs of an incipient brat attack and quietly said to Markie, "Don't even think about it. You're being paid to model, not get your rocks off. Save it for a club."

Markie nodded, but couldn't help adding, "Not many can swing a cane like Ashley."

"Left you smarting and sighing for more, did he?" Damian asked, nodding sympathetically. "I don't think you want to make him angry with unprofessional behavior though. That might have a more lasting impact on your wallet than your backside."

"You're right," Markie sighed. "A hard Top is good to find."

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Damian laughed. "Go get into your costume and right back out so we can truss you up."

Markie flashed him a rueful smile. "You have no idea how hard these types of shoots make me."

"We have cages or rings, if you need a little help," Damian said with a grin.

"It's okay. I can hold out." Markie went to change.

"Anything for me today?" Nick asked, his mouth watering as he watched Damian slide the supple leather cuffs through his slender fingers.

"I think I'd like to see you in these," Damian said thoughtfully. "Get Ashley to find you a pair of those low-rise leather trousers. Black is fine."

"They only come in black," Nick sighed. "So unimaginative."

Damian laughed. "What color would you like if you could choose?"

"Well, yellow is my favorite, but even I don't think I'd like to prance about in bright yellow leather trousers," Nick grinned. He reached to touch the wine leather cuff. "Perhaps that dark red might be nice."

Damian brought himself firmly under control. "Well, better get changed. Markie's ready and I have to buckle him in.

Good thing I own horses, what with all this harness to deal with."

Nick almost snorted his water through his nose. "It is a bit

... horsey, isn't it?"

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"Wait'll you see what I can do with a riding crop, pet,"

Damian purred, watching Nick's lashes flicker quickly. "Go!

Get dressed or—"

"I'm going," Nick said, twitching his backside away from Damian's hand and sticking out his tongue. He wondered pleasurably what Damian would do to pay him for that later.

Markie sighed again as he came up to Damian and turned around, crossing his hands behind his waist.

"Bright red?" Damian asked dubiously. "Ashley gave you fire-engine red PVC shorts?"

"No, Derek, that assistant guy, but he said these are the ones Ashley wanted."

Damian strapped the blond's wrists behind him and patted him on the shoulder. "Sorry, Markie, but it wouldn't have worked if Ashley was thinking of someone else all the time."

"I know. It's a bummer but I'm over it." Markie shook his head as though banishing the thoughts of what might have been. "Where do you want me?"

"Just there," Damian said, guiding him into a pool of light.

"I'm going back behind the camera and I'm going to ask you to take baby steps forward until the light is right, okay?"

They got back to business, resuming their roles on opposite sides of the camera.

* * * *

The scent of male arousal was on the air by the time Damian released Nick's wrists from behind his back, where they'd been linked together with a silver chain that wrapped around his waist, leading upward to connect to his collar. Nick 208

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knelt in a pool of light against a dark red mottled canvas. The soft box had illuminated his bent head and the angular line of his shoulders, as he knelt, facing away from the camera, his elegant back narrowing to a slim waist. The lush roundness of his buttocks was highlighted by the reflection from the leather pants.

Damian helped him to his feet and ran his hand down the boy's spine. "Hip okay?"

"Yeah, thanks," Nick said, sighing with relief as his wrists were freed.

"Get changed," Damian said casually. Leaning in close, his lips brushing Nick's ear, he breathed an order. "Leave the cuffs on under your shirt, pet."

"Uh, yes sir," Nick responded stupidly. He felt his blood flow south; his cock started to swell and his brain disengaged.

Damian smirked as he turned away, knowing just the effect his voice was having on the boy.

Ashley observed dispassionately, "You really shouldn't do that to him, Damian. We need him alert and ready."

"Oh, he's ready," Damian said smugly.

"So, are we going for dinner?" Derek asked brightly, knowing he was interrupting something, but not sure quite what. At this point, he was jealous of Markie, Damian, and Nick, in that order.

"Down, boy," Ashley said, watching the little quiver that ran through the boy. Keep them off balance; maybe Damian was on to something with his mind games. "Let's get the models sent off and we'll see."

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Derek trailed after him, as if unwilling to trust Ashley alone with the models, and Damian laughed at his sheepdog attitude.

Nick came to help him shut down the power packs, pulling at his sleeves to hide the cuffs. Damian stopped him, laying his hand over the boy's. "Leave it. I like seeing them on you.

It makes me think about what you would look like, spread over one of those benches, naked and quivering, while I mark your ass."

Nick sucked in a sharp breath, dizzy with the picture Damian had just painted for him out of thin air, using just his voice and his wicked imagination.

"Look at those, pet. I'm going to use every single one on you," Damian said, nodding toward the table where Ashley had laid out a variety of paddles, whips, and crops for the next day. He stroked over Nick's backside and whispered, "I can make the whip sing for you if that's what you desire, pet."

He watched the effect of his words. "And then when this beautiful little bottom is red and hot, I'll take you, bent over that bench, bound and spread, so hard that you'll feel me inside you the next day. You'll remember to whom you belong whenever you sit down. Would you like that, pet?"

"Yes, please, sir," Nick said urgently through trembling lips.

"Perhaps, later then, if you're very good," Damian promised and threaded a finger through the ring of one cuff, leading Nick to the door.

* * * *

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After dinner, a dinner during which Nick didn't say very much but just watched Damian with restless anxiety, Damian led the way into the darkened studio. He locked the outer door and turned to survey his sub.

"Strip."

One word, and his cock was hard and aching as he hastened to strip off his clothing. Finally he stood naked before his Top.

Damian pointed at the floor. Nick sank down gracefully, clasping his hands behind him.

"Pet, so far we have been playing at this. I'm going to take you a bit further. A play spanking can be erotic but I am going to take you flying, so high you'll never have felt anything like it." He paused and strolled around the kneeling boy. Damian pulled his hands together behind his back and linked the D rings on the cuffs. "Feel how helpless you are, on your knees to me, waiting for me to decide what to do to you?"

Nick shuddered and took in a thrilled breath, waiting for whatever would come next. Damian surprised him then, leaning down to stroke his aching cock gently, before slipping a cock ring onto him.

"That will keep you safe, pet," Damian said smugly.

Nick groaned with frustration.

Damian chuckled. "There will be no release for you tonight, pet. Instead, tonight you will serve me. Tomorrow, I'll have you over that bench and I'll set your pretty little bottom on fire. That will give you something to look forward to."

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Damian circled the boy, standing behind him to stroke Nick's curls, running his fingers through the thick glossy hair.

"Have you missed the taste of me, pet? Because I have missed the warmth of your mouth around me."

He unbuckled his belt, drawing it out of his pants, doubling it and making it snap. He smiled as he saw Nick's buttocks flex involuntarily at the sound. "Not tonight, pet. Tomorrow.

Make love to my cock with your mouth."

He walked in front of the boy, lazily stroking the proud flesh, standing out from his body. Nick's gaze was fixed on the photographer's cock, licking his lips. Damian smiled to see the eagerness of his boy.

"I'm inclined to be merciful tonight, for tomorrow you will taste the whip," Damian said throatily. "So I won't make you beg to taste me."

He stepped closer and Nick sighed happily as he was able to reach the other man's erection with his tongue. Tentatively he swept his tongue over the head.

Looking up he saw Damian looking at him with an intense expression that he couldn't quite read. He sucked the head of Damian's cock into his mouth, gratified to see the look on the older man's face change to one of unconstrained lust.

Being bound, naked, and on his knees paradoxically made him feel free. He had only one obligation: to fulfill his master's desires. Nick tried to remember everything that had pleased him in the few blow jobs he'd received in his life and applied his experience. He found the swollen vein on the underside of Damian's cock, pressing it flat with his tongue and feeling it refill. The little moan that accompanied his 212

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action told him he had found a sensitive spot. He swirled his tongue around the head, sucking hungrily.

Varying the speed and tempo, Nick opened his mouth and shielded his teeth with his lips, bobbing his head on the hard length.

The effect of the mere sight of Nick, his lips glistening as he concentrated on providing him with pleasure, caressing his cock with his lips curved so prettily around it, took Damian by surprise. He groaned and cupped the back of Nick's head, thrusting into his mouth.

Nick could do nothing but submit, holding his mouth open and relaxing his throat to receive Damian's thrusts.

The older man lost control and came with a sharp cry, emptying himself into the hot mouth. His trembling hands caressed Nick's hair, keeping him in place until Damian had himself back under control.

He patted Nick's head. "Thank you, pet." Damian turned away to arrange his clothing, uneasily aware that although he was fully clothed and Nick was exposed, that somehow he was the one feeling vulnerable.

He turned back. "If you were an experienced sub, pet, we would negotiate our encounter for tomorrow. But you don't yet know enough to set limits for yourself. What is your safe word?"

"London, sir," Nick said softly. His face looked serene, at peace.

Damian crossed his arms. "I would like to mark you tomorrow, nothing permanent. Just a welt or two, that would be gone within a week. Do you object?"

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"H—how much would it hurt, sir?" Nick asked nervously, wondering what he was letting himself in for.

"As much or as little as I decide," Damian said. "It's not the implement; it's how you use it. I can use a whip to set your nerves tingling or break the skin with my belt. I'll teach you to reach for the pain and ride it to the peak, if you like.

To surf the pain like a wave in the ocean. Do you trust me?"

"Yes, sir," Nick said, looking him right in the eyes. "I trust you."

"Good." Damian smiled. "I hope the anticipation will be pleasant for you."

He bent to free Nick's wrists and helped the younger man to his feet. "Wear these until tomorrow," he commanded, touching the wrist cuffs. "We'll need them."

"But ... I have school tomorrow."

"I know," Damian said with a wicked smile. "Have fun."

* * * *

Damian had released Nick from the cock ring before sending him home, but directed him not to touch himself. To his surprise, Nick found his wrist cuffs drew no attention at school. At first, he kept trying to pull down his sleeves, but so many kids wore leather wristbands of some kind, only the color set his apart.

All day at school, he flushed and chilled intermittently, sometimes terrified of what Damian might do to him, sometimes so excited he had to find a restroom and squeeze his cock to calm himself down.

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The studio was empty, but the door unlocked when he arrived. There was a pool of light spilling over a spanking bench in the studio. Nick shivered when he saw that, imagining himself naked, helpless, bound to it, waiting for whatever Damian decided to do to him.

He stood silently, wondering if he was ready for the next step.

"Nicholas."

He turned to see Damian standing behind him. For the first time, Damian was dressed, not in his usual T-shirt and jeans, but in tight black leather pants. His chest was partially covered by a leather vest, laced loosely across the front, showing his cut shoulders and muscular arms.

Nick shivered in fear but at the same time his cock slowly filled, swelling with arousal at the sight of the beautiful man into whose hands he had delivered himself. Damian seemed to tower over him, powerful and remote. Nick wondered if he was making a mistake even while he knew that he would go through with it.

Damian took a step closer and took Nick's face in his hands, staring at him. He kissed his lips tenderly. "Thank you for your trust, Nicholas. Thank you for submitting to me."