A Strong Hand (26 page)

"I do like it. I'd like to consider all these shots before we make a final decision, but you know I trust your instincts,"

Crispin said, looking at the shot. "It's damned fine."

Eddy edged closer to his boyfriend and started nudging his hip. "I'm hungry, I want to eat. And how come you didn't ask me to model?" He looked at Nick with hot, jealous eyes. "Why not put me on the fucking cover?"

"Edward, shut up," Crispin muttered, shoving the younger man away gently.

"NO!" Eddy yelled defiantly. "You've been working late all fucking week, you said we would have dinner out tonight, and I find you hanging out with these faggots pretending they're better than me. Make believe you're the great businessman all you want. I'm off!"

Crispin rounded on Eddy, knocking him flat on his back on a table covered with crops. "That's three! You don't defy
me,
slave. On your knees!"

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Nick and Derek watched with wide eyes as Eddy scrambled off the table and hit the floor, with the crops he'd dislodged falling around him, his head bowed down and his hands clasped behind him.

Crispin reached for the nearest collar, which happened to be a heavy one, studded with silver spikes, and buckled it around Eddy's throat. He attached a leash and yanked. His voice was commanding but calm when he ordered the construction worker, "Head on the floor. I don't want to hear another word out of you or you will wear a ball gag out to dinner."

Eddy bent and touched his forehead to the floor. Nick had to admire his control; he didn't topple over. He simply obeyed in one smooth movement, his hands stretched out in front of him, his ass in the air.

Crispin continued to walk next to Ashley, keeping Eddy's leash short as they strolled the length of the tables, examining every photograph and discussing them intently.

Eddy crawled along behind Crispin without making a sound.

"Gives me the creeps," Derek whispered.

"What's he doing that for?" Nick asked. He was feeling very uncomfortable with this display of power from Crispin, and the uncharacteristic obedience of the other man.

"He's a
slave
," Derek said, his eyes glowing with arousal and fear. "Crispin is his master and he can do anything he wants to him."

"Why would he ever agree to
that
?" Nick wondered, aghast.

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"I don't know, dude, and it makes me think twice about what I'm doing with Ashley," Derek said, giving no details.

Nick was afraid to ask, and besides, he wasn't ready to swap confidences.

Damian, Ashley, and Crispin had reached the far end of the tables and stood talking, with Eddy still in his position of obeisance.

"I'd like a night to sleep on it," Crispin was saying. "May I take these printouts with me?"

"I can e-mail them to you if you'd prefer," Damian said.

"Yes, do, and copies to Ashley as well. They're numbered, correct?" Crispin checked the back of several prints. "Great.

Then when we talk on the phone, we'll all be on the same page. And now, would you care to join me for dinner? Your boys, too, of course."

Nick blushed, wondering how Crispin knew and uncertain whether he was okay with being called Damian's boy.

Damian said, "That's very kind of you, Crispin. I'll just check to see what Nick's plans are for tonight."

He and Ashley came toward the two boys, still standing in the doorway to the kitchen.

Crispin turned to Eddy. "Up. Trousers down. Over the table. Twelve of the best. Six for rudeness, six for attempting to manipulate the situation."

Obediently Eddy stood, dropping his pants and leaning over the nearest table. Nick was amazed to see that he wore some kind of cage, similar to the one Damian had put on him, but Eddy's had a belt, with chains leading to a plug inserted in 248

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his arse, while around the front the chains disappeared under his shirt.

When Eddy's chest hit the table, he gave a little grunt, but gripped the edge with both hands.

Meanwhile, Crispin had picked up a cane, and stood swishing it through the air. He put his hand on the middle of Eddy's back. "What is this for?"

Eddy's muffled voice sounded perfectly respectful as he answered, "Six for being rude to the others, six for forcing you to punish me, Master."

"You are not forcing me, slave, this is for my pleasure and your punishment. I could just chain you and leave you here while I go to dinner. Is that clear, slave?"

"Yes, Master," came the subdued voice.

Crispin walked away from the man bent over the table.

Taking three running steps forward, he struck Eddy's arse with a mighty wallop. Eddy gasped, but made no other sound.

Nick shivered; he was quite sure he couldn't take anything like that, and the thought of being punished in front of other people, people he had never met before, made him feel a little sick inside.

"Thank you, Master. May I have the next one?" Eddy said in a remarkably steady voice.

Crispin wound up for the next strike and Nick turned, stumbling away to the outer door. Damian noticed and followed him at once. He let the door close behind them, muffling the sounds of the scene in the studio.

"Are you all right?"

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"How could he...? Why does he...?" Nick shook his head, hugging his arms around his body, feeling very cold.

Damian stepped closer, noting the boy's flinch, but wrapped his arms around him anyway. "Eddy is a slave, Nick.

It's a very different thing from what we're doing. Eddy is a troubled man; he drank, did drugs, and got into fights. He bratted his way through practically every Dom at the club Crispin belongs to, until he took Eddy in hand. Eddy needs someone to master him, force his submission. That's how he finds peace."

"Peace!" Nick exclaimed. "That's fucking hysterical. Twelve hard strokes with a cane? That doesn't seem like a peaceful way to spend the evening!"

"And it wouldn't be for you. It is for him. It's
his
choice, you know." Damian wondered how he could explain it.

"Remember how you felt Saturday night?"

Nick nodded dumbly.

"Most people wouldn't consider that to be fun either, but you were flying at the end," Damian pointed out. He had a terrible feeling that Nick was slipping away from him and savagely wished Crispin weren't so fucking dominating that he never thought to ask if it was all right to cane Eddy the way he had. "Crispin has a fantasy of being some kind of knight on horseback, swooping in to save Eddy from himself. And Lord knows, Eddy needs someone to answer to; he can't seem to master himself, so perhaps he's better off as a slave. It wouldn't work for me, but it seems to work for them. They've been together for three years."

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"Are you saying ... Eddy wanted to be ... to be ... caned in front of all of us?"

Damian chuckled but his smile faded as he realized how shaken Nick was. "He was pushing for it from the moment he came in. He knows better than to slam doors and mouth off like that."

"Fucking hell," Nick said softly, relaxing and leaning into Damian's embrace, having completely forgotten that he was standing in a hallway, where other tenants of the building might see him.

The door opened and Ashley poked his head out. "Crispin sends his apologies for forgetting to ask your leave to do that, Damian. It's all over and he's hoping you'll both still allow him to buy dinner for you."

Damian looked at his boy. "What about it, Nick? Are you up for it or would you prefer to be taken home?"

"Home, please, I think," Nick said, closing his eyes briefly.

He was hoping that he hadn't just caught a glimpse of his own future.

Damian was disappointed but he hoped that maybe Nick just needed some time alone to think. "I'll just run Nick home and then I'll meet you, Ash. Where are you going?"

Ashley gave the name of the restaurant and Damian nodded. "I'll join you later. I'll just lock up first." He gave Nick one last comforting squeeze. "Come on, babe. Let's get everything shut down and I'll get you home."

Nick followed Damian inside the studio, wanting to see how Eddy was. He felt as if he was looking at an accident: horrified, fascinated, but unable to look away.

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He was surprised to see Eddy kneeling by Crispin's chair.

The older man was stroking his hair and Eddy's face was peaceful, dreamy almost. He'd dropped the truculent voice and his replies to Crispin's questions were inaudible.

Nick followed Damian's orders shutting down the studio and soon found himself in the older man's car. He sat huddled in on himself, staring straight ahead.

Damian sighed. "Talk to me, Nick. Don't just shut me out."

Nick shook his head. "I can't right now. I have to think."

Damian said firmly, "That will never be you and me. I would never choose to hit you like that with a cane. I will never punish you either. I don't do this for disciplinary reasons. You're an adult, and you're in charge of your own life. You will never find yourself in Eddy's place with me."

Nick's cold hand sought Damian's. "I know. And thank you for bringing me home."

"See you tomorrow?" Damian asked hopefully.

"I have school tomorrow. Thursday," Nick said.

For a moment Damian feared that he would get out without even a kiss, but Nick turned and kissed him briefly.

Then he was out of the car, running up the stairs of his building two at a time.

Damian sighed and put the car in gear. Master or not, Crispin was going to hear his opinion of what he'd done that night. He hoped that maybe yelling at Crispin would take his mind off the boy he feared he had lost.

* * * *

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by Catt Ford

Nick fluctuated between missing Damian desperately and wondering if he was insane for trusting the man. He had to admit that although he had pissed Damian off frequently before they started
doing things,
the older man had never showed any signs of wishing to punish him; he was just sarcastic about his shortcomings.

He realized with dismay that he had been a little turned on by watching Eddy's unquestioning obedience once Crispin had pulled him up short. What had disturbed him was watching him bare his arse, bend over the table, and agree to the punishment Crispin decreed. And when the first red line appeared across Eddy's arse Nick wondered what it felt like.

That bothered him more than anything Damian had done to him.

He wondered....

* * * *

"Come here, babe," Damian said, relieved when Nick walked into his arms. "I was afraid you weren't coming back."

"I'm sorry, Damian," Nick apologized. "I just ... it was just so ... I don't know."

"Confusing, I know. I didn't know Crispin was going to do that, or I would have stopped him. As it was, I gave him a piece of my mind," Damian said, his lips grim.

"What did he say?"

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"He said he was sorry but that you'd have to get used to it sometime if you're going to play this way," Damian said apologetically.

Nick wrenched himself out of Damian's arms and went to the window. "How the fuck does everyone know?"

"Everyone doesn't know, but people in this lifestyle do,"

Damian said. He sighed, wondering how to explain it. "There's just a look in a sub's eyes. I guess if you're interested in finding one, you start to recognize them. There weren't that many clubs not so long ago, so you had to be able to spot them."

"Would you cane me?" was the next unexpected question.

Damian gasped and said, "No! Not like that!"

"You don't know how?"

"I know how; I just don't care to. And especially you! Eddy is a tough guy," Damian said, knowing it was the wrong thing the minute it was out of his mouth.

"You're saying I'm not tough?" Nick challenged him, his arms crossed.

"You're different is all that I'm saying. People's nerves are hardwired differently. You're more sensitive." He groaned, realizing he'd put his foot in it again.

"I want to feel it. I want to feel what the worst is like,"

Nick said stubbornly.

Realizing that his boy was terrified, Damian took a step forward to take him in his arms again but Nick backed away from him. "I mean it. I want to feel it."

"I promised I would never hurt you—"

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"I want to feel it," Nick insisted, his lower jaw working pugnaciously.

Surprising even himself, Damian grabbed Nick by the upper arm and dragged him into the makeup room, shoving him at the table in the center of the room. "Bend over that, pants down!" before he whirled around, storming into the studio.

Nick was scared, but he'd asked for this. With shaking hands he took his pants down and leaned over the table.

Damian came back into the room and Nick turned his head to see the evil cane in his sensitive, artist's hands. For a moment he regretted asking the older man to do something that he clearly did not want to do.

Damian looked very stern and sad. "Nicholas, I don't permit my subs to top from the bottom. I can see you've got something going on in your head and I can't shake it loose unless you tell me what it is. We can talk this out; it doesn't have to be this way."

Nick turned his head away from Damian, refusing to meet his eyes or answer him.

"Very well. Maybe this will help clear your mind. This is your one shot. Grab the table. Don't move. You'll be getting three."

Nick started to shake but he grabbed the table so hard that the edges cut into his hands and tensed, waiting and wondering if Damian was going to run at him the way Crispin had done with Eddy.