Dedicated to my dearest friends Liriel and Kennedy, who believe in me, love me, and are always in my corner.

 

To Liriel, who asked for the story because without her utter belief that I could do it, this story would never have been written.

 

And to Kennedy, who encouraged me and held my hand all the way through, even though this is not his cup of tea.

 

And to E.N. Thank you.

 

 

 

Prologue

 

 

AT THE sound of the crash, Damian rolled his eyes heavenward and wondered for the hundredth time whatever had possessed him to hire such a clumsy, surly, irritable, annoying, immature, and inexperienced assistant.

Taking a deep breath to quell his irritation, he raised his voice to ask, “Are you all right, Nicholas?”

“Yeah,” came the muffled reply. Even at a distance Damian could tell that the boy was frustrated and angry.

“What was it this time?” he asked.

Ashley’s eyes crinkled in silent laughter as he sat, perched on the stool, where he’d been watching as Damian set up the shot.

“Nothing breakable,” came the defensive answer.

“Have it cleaned up by the time I get out there,” Damian instructed, before muttering, “to save me from having a heart attack.”

The response was indecipherable, but the resentful tone was clear.

“Why do I put up with this?” Damian sighed to himself.

“Why do you?” Ashley asked, chuckling. He was quite sure he knew the answer; after all, the hapless assistant was by far the most beautiful young man that Damian had ever hired. They never seemed to last long, but Ashley was certain that all of them had “skills” outside the arena of photography.

“He was better than the rest of the lot that applied after Derek left,” Damian grumbled, his gaze fixed on the viewfinder of his camera.

Today’s shot was just a still life, but it still took Ashley’s breath away. There was no better photographer at work in London today; Damian Wolfe could make the simplest object compelling and exquisite.

It had taken forever, and all the weight of a long friendship, for Ashley to convince Damian to shoot his catalog. Although Damian was American by citizenship, with a French father and Italian mother he was fairly cosmopolitan; he and his parents had lived all over the world before he finally settled in America as an adult. After a case in which his work had been taken to the Supreme Court in America as an example of indecency but was vindicated as freedom of expression, Damian had found it more comfortable to work in Europe.

He was fond of saying that although the Supreme Court was on his side, the U.S. was simply too young a country to appreciate erotica. They preferred sentimentality to beauty. Treacly calendars with ivy-covered cottages and flowers in vases, or even worse, babies in animal costumes were all that some Americans deserved in Damian’s opinion.

He was welcomed to the London art scene with open arms, the much-publicized court case having made him an instant celebrity. Although he disdained the renown, he did appreciate the fact that it brought his work to the attention of collectors such as Ashley.

Working almost exclusively in the area of his own personal interest, Damian created beautiful male erotica; he could photograph a nude with all the delicacy of a rare orchid, and yet use the same model to produce a shot of graphic sexual power, so raw that it raised disturbing doubts in the minds of men who had never considered another man’s body as sexually arousing.

Of course, that just amused Damian to no end.

Ashley Winthrop was an entrepreneur in high-end erotic toys and a noted patron of the arts; he was also a connoisseur when it came to erotica. He had already purchased several of Damian Wolfe’s pieces before he had finagled his way into meeting the artist at a gallery opening.

Recognizing their similar interests, they soon became friends. Ashley wasn’t shy about badgering Damian to shoot several of the items he offered for sale, and when he’d seen the results, he continued to pressure the artist until he’d agreed to photograph the entire catalog.

Already, Ashley knew that this catalog was destined to become a collector’s item. Taking an ordinary item such as handcuffs, Damian had created a simple but elegant set and lit the cuffs so that the metal dazzled with a seductive promise that Ashley knew no submissive would be able to resist. He could hardly wait to see what Damian could do with a whip.

Damian moved forward to adjust the angle of one of the cuffs, donning a pair of sleek black leather gloves to ensure that he transferred neither fingerprints nor dust to the highly reflective surface.

Ashley’s groin tightened as he watched the sure, graceful hands stroke the metal. The first time Damian had picked up a crop in Ashley’s office, running the braided leather absently through his fingers, Ashley had recognized a fellow Dominant. He had no desire to feel the bite of the whip himself, although he found the photographer extremely attractive, but he greatly desired to see Damian in action, with a slender submissive body drooping in front of him, eagerly surrendering to whatever delicious punishment he was sure Damian could devise.

Damian returned to his stance behind the camera, completely oblivious to the other man’s train of thought as he took the shot. He was somewhat pleased with it. He wasn’t sure it was the best he could do, but at least it was a starting point.

“I don’t know why you badgered me into this,” Damian grumbled, pushing back his shoulder-length hair while still looking through the viewfinder. “I’ve got to be at least twice as expensive as any product photographer, and three times as slow.”

“Four times slower and five times more costly,” Ashley said gleefully, rubbing his hands together. “I’ve worked it all out, Ian, but the cost-benefit ratio is on my side.”

He couldn’t see the photographer’s face, hidden behind the curtain of his glossy hair, but that wasn’t where he was looking anyway. Damian really had a lovely body: broad shoulders, narrow waist, and quite a fine arse, if he did say so himself. Ashley knew that he would never get his hands on it, but a man could dream, couldn’t he? Although the charm of demanding the submission of another man would be lost with Damian, Ashley still rather fancied him. Holding him back was the fact that he was not at all sure that he might not end up in the encounter with his own arse in the air, awaiting either the kiss of the whip or the surge of what looked to be a massive cock, if Damian’s package was anything to go by.

“How can that possibly be a good thing?” Damian asked, exasperated by his own slowness. His standards were incredibly exacting but ordinarily he didn’t have a client hanging over his shoulder; he simply worked out his own vision to his satisfaction.

“Not only will people in the lifestyle be fighting to get their hands on this catalog, they will pay for them,” Ashley said. “And they’ll buy. Those handcuffs have been a staple in my line for over five years and even my mouth is watering over them. I would buy them from me right now, if I had someone to put them on.”

Damian laughed. “Surely you have someone awaiting your… kind attentions.” His eyes raked insolently over Ashley’s body.

The tawny-haired man shivered under the intense scrutiny of an alpha Top, but the little smile that curled his lips didn’t change; Ashley was experienced enough to know how to stand his ground.

“I can’t imagine that you haven’t… ahem… tested these items thoroughly before offering them for your customers’ consideration.”

Ashley grinned, his teeth gleaming white under the modeling light. “I know what they’re all used for, yes.”

“I’ll bet you do.” Damian smirked, before going back to concentrate on his shot. He was perfectly aware that Ashley was an enthusiastic player, not merely a dabbler who sold toys. Not that Damian himself played anymore; he’d grown weary of demanding subs who misbehaved in order to earn whatever punishment they desired. He’d decided that empty was better than half full and had lived a celibate life in the five years since he’d come to live and work in London: ironic for a man who made his living creating erotica. An irony that he fully appreciated, but by now he had convinced himself that he was more suited to the purer gratification to be derived from the visual stimulation provided by his models.

At that moment, Nick pushed the studio door open, letting the light pour in just as Damian was about to release the shutter.

“Fucking hell, Nicholas, can’t you remember to knock?” Damian snapped without looking up.

Nick pushed the door shut hurriedly, irked at being berated when the studio lights were still on anyway; he’d checked for the sliver of light under the door, not that he was going to mention that. In a sullen voice, he asked, “Just wanted to know whether you wanted your tea now.”

Ashley watched with interest as the boy’s velvety dark eyes flicked nervously between the photographer and the glittering handcuffs, displayed like a jewel on a bed of soft dark feathers.

“Turn off the modeling lights, Nicholas.”

Dragging his feet, the tall, slender young man made his way to the power pack, crouching beside it to press the button. There was a click and the room was plunged into darkness. In that moment, the erotic tension in the room roared in Ashley’s ears. Everything was silent. Not one of them made a move in the dark, but he felt strongly that at least one of the people in the room really wanted to.

Then the sudden flash of Damian’s lights split the darkness with a series of soft explosive pops. The photographer took several shots, bracketing, Ashley remembered him calling it.

“Okay, Nicholas. Lights,” Damian ordered tersely.

A click and the modeling lights were back on. Ashley had continued to look in Nick’s direction to avoid being blinded by the lights, so he was in the perfect position to observe the soft, liquid look in the boy’s eyes as he gulped in some air and stared avidly at the cuffs before his usual impassive mask slid back into place.

Ashley glanced at Damian to find that he was still fussing with his camera. Finally Damian stood upright. “I think that’s it for today,” he said in a dissatisfied tone.

“Tell me again why you were shooting in the dark?” Ashley asked.

“Star filter,” Damian said. His laugh lines sprang into being as he smiled and reached up to sweep his hair out of his face. “We’re going to make your old police standards sparkle like diamonds.” He suddenly seemed to realize that Nicholas was still crouched by the pack. “Why are you here?” he demanded bluntly.

“Came to ask if you wanted your tea, yeah?” The husky voice was soft and yet still communicated Nick’s insolence clearly.

“Go boil it, or buy it, or whatever you do with it,” Damian said, losing interest.

“What would you like in yours, Mr.…,” Nick asked Ashley, with a bare modicum of politeness.

“Winthrop,” Ashley supplied amiably, although he had told Nicholas his name at least twice before. “I am in the mood for a bite of something sweet, perhaps an éclair or a napoleon. And get me a latté, large, cinnamon decaf. With whipped cream. Low fat!”

Before he slouched from the room, Nick muttered, “You really think that’s going to help?”

Damian chuckled under his breath at Nicholas’s jibe, still standing with his hands on his hips, glaring at the handcuffs as if they were a recalcitrant model, refusing to hold a pose.

“Dreadful baggy trousers,” Ashley muttered fastidiously, looking after Nicholas. If he had the dressing of the young man, he’d be wearing something tight and form-fitting, depending on what kind of arse he had. It looked as if it might be quite a pert one, but those loose jeans were so deceptive, as Ashley knew to his cost. Not only had Damian’s last assistant Derek turned out to be a tad on the pudgy side, but he didn’t even like to play.

“What was that?” Damian asked abstractedly.

“I asked your boy for something sweet,” Ashley said, grinning inwardly at his choice of words. Sure enough, they caught Damian’s attention and he smirked appreciatively. “He seemed a bit dismayed.”

“That’ll be because I don’t usually run to cakes for tea. I expect he’ll have gotten into the petty cash and gone down the street to the pastry shop,” Damian replied in resignation. “Well, come along. The young twit has either put the kettle on with no water or forgotten it altogether. I’d better check on it.”

Ashley slid off the stool and followed Damian out of the studio into the kitchen area, his eyes bright with curiosity. Something was brewing here, even if it wasn’t the tea, and he was interested to see how it all played out.

 

 

Chapter 1

 

 

NICK RACED up the stairs of the tube station two at a time, hoping he wouldn’t be late for work yet again, but the train had been held up and he had to run for it. He pelted along the street, stopping in front of the warehouse building that housed Damian’s studio to try to catch his breath. It would never do for his boss to know that he’d hurried so as not to be late. Bad for his image.

He pushed open the outer door and took the lift to the top floor instead of the stairs, hoping he would have caught his breath by the time it arrived.

“Late again?” Damian asked sardonically when he heard the loft door open. He didn’t bother to turn around so he didn’t see the guilty look that flitted over Nicholas’s face.

The voice was surly as usual, with no trace of the regret that shadowed the large dark eyes. “Not very late.”

“Well, it hardly matters; the model is even later,” Damian fumed.

“What do you want me to do?” Nick asked, dumping his backpack in the doorway where anyone coming in would be sure to trip over it.

“See if Gabe needs anything after you move that damned bag,” Damian said. “I’ll be in the studio.”

Nick kicked the pack out of the way and went to the makeup room, well fitted out with lights for the stylist to do his work. The man was short and bald, dressed in a frilly pink shirt, tight shiny jeans, and high-heeled, pointy-toed boots. He was sitting in the makeup chair reading a magazine and looked up at Nicholas with teasing eyes when he entered.

“Hey, beautiful. Come to cheer a lonely girl’s vigil?” the makeup stylist lisped.

Nick shook his head. “Not bloody likely, Gabe. Need anything?”

“How about a flute lesson?”

Nick looked puzzled and then flushed when he caught the import of the comment. “Fuck off, wanker.”

“I wouldn’t have to, if you helped a girl out,” Gabe called after him and snickered as Nick scuttled away quickly. He did so enjoy tweaking the pretty little straight boys.

After a few phone calls to the agency and another half hour’s wait, Damian finally emerged from his office to dismiss the stylist. “Sorry, Gabe. You might as well go home. The model seems to be lost or something. He’s a no-show.”

“You know I get paid for the time just the same, right?” Gabe said, beginning to return his brushes to his kit. “I canceled another shoot to do this one.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ll make it good with the client. We’ll have you back again next time,” Damian promised.

Gabe nodded and packed up his case. Damian signed his voucher, and Gabe said, “Thanks for understanding. Some people in the biz—”

“I know,” Damian said. “Say no more; not your fault.”

“Ta ta then, love,” Gabe said, returning to his usual manner.

Damian watched the studio door swing shut quietly after the stylist left. He jumped when he heard Nicholas fling open the door to the bathroom, letting it smack against the wall. “Fuck it all to hell! You don’t have to break the fucking door, do you?”

“Sorry,” Nick said, and he flushed to the roots of his hair. His eyes dropped, and Damian suddenly noticed how very beautiful he looked when he was ashamed.

“Come into the studio,” he commanded, striding into it without looking back to see whether Nicholas was obeying him.

Nick complied, following the photographer silently, hoping desperately that he would know how to do whatever Damian told him to do next.

A strong hand landed on the small of his back and propelled Nicholas forward to where Damian had set up a painted canvas backdrop and what looked to be a ballet bar. “Just kneel there for a minute, will you? I need to check the lighting.”

Sighing, Nick got to his knees and crossed his arms, scowling defiantly at the camera.

Ignoring the defiant expression, Damian called out, “Turn around. No, all the way. Away from me, you dolt.”

Nick shuffled around on his knees until his back was square to the camera.

“Back toward me. To the left. Your left! Your other left!” Damian sighed in mounting frustration as Nicholas first turned to his right, away from the main light, and then back into his original position. He strode quickly forward and took the boy by the shoulders, jerking him into the position he wanted. “There! That’s where I want you. Stay right there and don’t move.”

He raced back behind the camera, cursing softly to himself. He wondered why he’d never noticed the sculpted cheekbones and elegant jawline of his young assistant. Damian had noticed his eyes, of course; they were hard to miss with their long lashes, but somehow he’d become fixated on Nicholas’s nose, directing all his irritation with his incompetent assistant at his nose. The slight asymmetry seemed to take up Damian’s entire vision when he looked at Nicholas, but something about the way the lights were caressing the young man’s face made his beauty spring to life for him for the first time.

“Nicholas,” Damian said softly in a moment of recognition. How could he have been so blind?

“Yeah?” Nick responded, not daring to move from his position.

“The model bailed. And I have this idea, a concept; it’s gnawing at me. I want to take the shot. I need to,” Damian started to explain.

Nick swung around to face him and nodded. Damian was startled. It looked as if Nicholas understood just what he was saying about his need to create the image in his head and was agreeing with him! What did he study at university again? Whatever. Damian couldn’t remember ever asking him.

“I need a model to pull this off. Can I use you?”

“What do I need to do?” Nick asked, his voice interested and bright for the first time in Damian’s memory.

“I need to work out the pose, and it’ll be cheaper to use you than a model. Just with some of these things of Ashley’s,” Damian said, waving a careless hand at a table holding various whips and strappy-looking things.

“All—all right,” Nick said faintly, looking at the table full of implements with nervous fascination.

“Right. Get up and out of your kit, then,” Damian ordered. “I need your bare skin.”

He grinned impishly, expecting to have to convince the young man when he refused, but was surprised as without hesitation, Nicholas started stripping right there in the set, tossing his T-shirt off to the side. He stood up to toe his sneakers off and unzipped his pants, only to realize that Damian was staring at him. His hands hesitated. “Am I doing it wrong?”

Damian laughed. “There’s no wrong way to get undressed. Especially if….” He trailed off, thinking it might not be wise to bandy racy comments with his assistant. On the other hand, the way things were going, Nicholas wouldn’t be around that long anyway. “Especially with a tight little ass like yours,” he resumed, figuring it didn’t make much difference if Nicholas ran screaming into the night. No model, no shot, at least for today. “Green socks?”

“Oh. I thought maybe I shouldn’t be throwing my clothes on the floor,” Nick muttered, ignoring the comment on his brightly colored socks.

“Throw them wherever you like, other than in the set,” Damian said generously, excited by the prospect of a compliant model to play with for a couple of hours. This way he could get his idea worked out before the expensive model arrived.

Nick continued to strip, feeling a bit flustered, but Damian was no longer looking at him, so he made short work of it. He stood there naked, waiting for the next instruction.

Damian came over and took him by the arm, leading him to a lump under the canvas. “Kneel on that; I put some packing foam under there. It’ll be easier on your knees.”

“Away from the camera?” Nick asked.

Damian rolled his eyes. “Yes, away from the camera. Right there.” He pointed insultingly.

Nick dropped to his knees, grateful for the soft cushioning under the backdrop. His knees were bony, and the concrete floor had hurt when he knelt there earlier.

Damian came back to him making a clanking noise, and Nick darted an anxious glance at the photographer. He was carrying black leather restraints of some kind, linked together by a length of silver chain.

“Give me your hands,” Damian ordered.

Silently, Nick held out his wrists.

The leather cuffs were long, almost like a gauntlet, running nearly to Nick’s elbows. Damian fastened the various buckles on the right arm, passing the chain over the bar in front of Nick. It was quite high, almost to Damian’s shoulders, and Nick had to raise his arms for Damian to attach the second restraint.

After Damian had him securely bound to the bar, he stroked the smooth, honey-toned skin of Nicholas’s bare shoulder. “Okay?”

“Yeah.”

Damian thought Nicholas’s voice had sounded a bit breathless, but he was so excited to see his artistic vision come to life that he paid it no heed, bounding back behind the camera to check angles and lighting.

He suppressed a gasp, swallowing it when he saw the lithe form, lean muscles taut in the slender shoulders, buttocks round and tempting, and the glossy dark curls shining under the sole light source. He really was blind, Damian marveled. It was a mercy that the insipid blond model actually hired for the shoot hadn’t turned up. Nicholas was perfect for this. Damian enjoyed the sight of the muscles in Nicholas’s thighs twitching slightly as he fought to remain still.

Damian checked his focus and snapped off a couple of quick shots. “You doing okay?” he called out.

“Yeah, fine,” Nick said, turning to look back over his shoulder just as Damian snapped the shot.

“Now don’t do that again if you don’t want a recognizable shot of you naked in handcuffs. Stay… fucking… still,” Damian snarled.

Nick turned away quickly. His heart was beating so hard and loud; he was surprised that Damian couldn’t hear it. The thought of Damian owning a shot of him, naked and restrained to a bar, made his cock twitch, and he wasn’t even gay! Was he? No, Nick thought resolutely, he wasn’t and he wasn’t going to be converted. He was just helping his employer. Nothing more.

His heart slowed when nothing more happened and the lights didn’t flash again. It was quiet so long, he wanted to turn around again and see what Damian was up to, and he was just about to when he felt something chilly at his ankle.

“Wh—what’s that?” Nick asked nervously, flinching as he felt cold metal close around his ankle.

Without answering him, Damian pushed his legs apart with his foot. Nick suddenly felt very vulnerable and exposed, his cock swelling but not hard yet, his balls dangling where he was sure Damian could see them. Hell, Damian could probably see everything that was to be seen about his arse!

Nick jumped when Damian spread his legs even further and a cold cuff was clamped about his other ankle. When the strong hands released him, Nick tried to move his legs together but found he couldn’t.

“No need to worry; it’s just a spreader,” Damian said in a very pleased tone of voice. “Excellent. You were born to wear one. You look great in it.”

Faint sounds told Nick that Damian had retreated behind the camera once more. It made him feel a tiny bit safer, but not safe enough. Trussed the way he was, he could barely move. Nick had never been able to please Damian before and hearing approval in his employer’s voice was… heady. On the other hand, he had also never had his legs held apart and trapped before, and it was disturbing. He was just trying to calculate whether he could manage to get to his feet with the spreaders on when the lights flashed, practically blinding him because he wasn’t ready.

“You could warn a person!” Nick yelled with an energy that surprised even him.

“Sorry,” came the distracted reply.

Somehow Nick knew that Damian wasn’t going to remember to warn him the next time either. He squirmed uncomfortably; wearing these restraints somehow made him feel more naked than when he’d just taken off his clothing. He wondered how long Damian—

The lights blinded him again, but he didn’t say anything this time.

“Stick your ass out a little. No, back, toward me. More. No, too far, go back to where you were. Okay, back it up again. There! Hold it right like that!”

The lights flashed in quick succession, and Nick’s hip twinged. He hoped he’d be able to hold the pose as long as Damian wanted without his back cramping up.

“What’s the scar from?”

“Oh, sorry,” Nick muttered. “Uh, an accident. Had to have an operation.”

“It’s beautiful,” Damian responded.

Nick was outraged; how dare Damian say that? He knew it was ugly, and it sure as hell hadn’t been beautiful acquiring it. “Har fucking har,” he retorted sarcastically.

“Shut up,” Damian said, in his dreamy, crazy-artist voice.

Nick shut up accordingly. He knew Damian wouldn’t hear whatever he had to say anyway. His arms were falling asleep as the blood drained from them.

“Okay, straighten up a bit. Now turn your head to the left slightly. Oh, very good, you remembered which way left is. I want the light to just catch the edge of your cheekbone and the line of your jaw. Right there. Hold it.”

Again, the flurry of lights. By now Nick knew to close his eyes, seeing as Damian wasn’t shooting his face anyway. When the sequence of flashing lights ended, he pulled on his arms to stretch his back, trying to ease the building tension in his shoulders.

“Will you stop wiggling around? Just stay where I put you until I say you can move,” Damian demanded irritably, striding forward and pushing Nicholas back into position. “Do as you’re told, boy.”

“Yes, sir!” Nick hissed angrily.

“And stop talking, or I’ll swat you,” Damian instructed.

Nick froze into position, except for his cock, which rose in a slow steady swell of blood. The heat pooled at his groin made him fidgety but he didn’t want to know whether Damian was serious about his threat. He sounded as if he would do it.

Nick jumped as he felt warm hands land on his hips. Something brushed across his arse and he yelped, even though it hadn’t hurt at all.

“Stay still, dammit!”

Fuck, Nick thought, he sounds serious. He concentrated on keeping his body positioned exactly as Damian had left him.

Finally his back and hip were signaling dire distress and Nick had to move, letting out a little groan. He yelped and flinched as a hard hand cracked against his arse, sending a burst of heat through his left cheek.

He turned instinctively just as the flash went and heard a click.

“Will you hold still now, or do you want me to swat you again?”

Damian’s voice came from almost directly behind him, where he was standing with the cable release in his hand. Nick fell silent and turned away from the camera again. He could see the handprint in his mind, red against the whiter skin of his arse. He was suddenly very embarrassed and humiliated to know that Damian had taken a picture of him that way and wondered what insanity had led him to yank off his clothes and kneel here unresistingly while Damian took more photographs. Not that he had much choice now that he’d let Damian tie him up. The words alone sent a shiver of arousal over his bare skin.

“Got it,” Damian breathed, when he’d captured the final shot. He came to himself then and chuckled as he took in the slim body of his assistant, stretched and bound, muscles moving under the smooth skin as he strained to remain still; a picture of sensual promise.

“Sorry, Nicholas. I got a little caught up in my vision,” Damian apologized as he came forward to release the young man. He chuckled as he saw the palm print on the boy’s round, enticing cheek. Had he really done that?

He knelt behind Nicholas, leaning just a little closer than necessary to take in a whiff of the faint vanilla scent that clung to the boy as he released the ankle cuffs on the spreader bar.

Nick shivered and the fine hairs on his back stood up as he felt the heat of Damian’s body so close to his. For a moment, the man was kneeling behind him and Nick was trapped there, cuffed and spread. If Damian were to try something, take his pleasure, Nick wouldn’t be able to do a thing to defend himself. He was terribly frightened, and yet his cock was betraying him by remaining achingly hard.

Damian noticed that the boy was trembling and gently released one arm, hanging on to the other one, sensing that Nicholas was about to bolt with the restraint still buckled onto his wrist. Once he had set the boy free, Nicholas sprang to his feet with a coltish grace, keeping himself turned away from Damian. He ran for his clothes, scooped them up, and headed straight for the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him.

Damian remained where he was, running the leather restraints through his fingers, still warm from Nicholas’s heat. He could smell a hint of arousal on the air. So the boy had been turned on by this? Until now, Damian had been so involved with making the shot in his head a reality that he hadn’t even considered the ramifications of having the beautiful young man, naked and bound, kneeling before him.

He heard the outer studio door slam shut violently and smiled. Probably that meant he’d seen the last of Nicholas, but damn, the boy was delicious. His cock was pressing uncomfortably against his zipper, so Damian unzipped to relieve himself a little. When he pulled his cock out, the air was cool against his heated flesh, and his hand felt good. He closed his eyes, kneeling there, right behind where he’d had Nicholas restrained and spread, and he stroked himself off, gloating over the beauty that they had created together. He came with a stifled groan, shooting onto the canvas right where Nicholas had knelt.

 

 

NEVER HAD Nick been so grateful that he followed the fashion of his peers. It was one thing to be an independent thinker and go against the tide, but sometimes it was better if one wore baggy pants, giving one a fighting chance of hiding a raging hard-on.

He could feel his erection sway with every step he took, his boxers softly rubbing against the swollen head of his cock. He hoped he wouldn’t come in his pants before he got back to his shabby little cold-water flat.

He took a seat in the train, because the tube was fairly empty at this hour. And then he stood right back up again when he saw how his erection tented his pants. Only a blind man could miss it. Soberly, he studied the advertisements over the windows, willing his prick to go down, but with minimal success.

He usually had several hard-ons and jacked off a minimum of once over the course of a day, but now he was hard enough to pound nails. When he got off at his station, every step was an effort. For the first time he wondered whether briefs might not actually be better. Surely they’d be more… restrictive when one was in a state? Nick groaned; just thinking the word “restrictive” made his cock jump again.

There was nothing for it but to hurry. He made it to the outer door of his building and raced up the stairs. At least that effort made his erection go down a bit. By the time he unlocked his door, he was in hopes that he had it under control because he was not going to give in to this—whatever it was.

He went into the tiny bathroom and lowered his pants, pulling his boxers down with them. He stood on the edge of the tub, twisting and craning until he could get a glimpse of his own arse in the mirror, with a handprint blooming rosily on his cheek.

“Blooming idiot, Nicky,” Nick muttered and then laughed at himself. “What the hell was I thinking? If I was thinking.”

But there it was, a blush-red mark with a paler edge all around it. As he looked at it, the palm print began to throb, sending a rhythmic pulse straight to his groin. His cock rose up again, hot and hard, pointing to the ceiling. He couldn’t remember ever being this hard before, and it was killing him.

He tried to think of his last girlfriend’s breasts, or failing that, the girlfriend before as he stroked himself, rubbing his thumb over the head slippery with his precum. He panted as he stroked faster, adding a little twist with each pass, but he couldn’t quite…. Suddenly the sound of Damian’s hand cracking against his arse filled his mind and he imagined how the other man must have looked when he delivered the smack, and then he was coming with a hoarse cry, harder and longer than ever before.

He was on his knees when he recovered his senses, one hand clutching the sink, the other wetly wrapped around his limp dick, gasping at the memory of what had happened between him and his employer.

“Holy fuck,” he whispered.

 

 

AFTER DAMIAN had cleaned up and put himself tidily back together, he took his camera into the darkroom to unload the film. He shot digital on occasion, but he still preferred the older, manual single-lens reflex; it gave him so much more control over lighting, depth of field, and focus.

He couldn’t wait to develop these shots and see what he had.

Patiently he mixed a batch of chemicals and got the developer up to speed. He fed the film into the spooler and waited at the other end to see what came out. When the leading edge of the negative appeared, he bent closer, getting a nose-full of the acrid smell. He lifted the end to peer at it against the red light and began to smile.

Once the entire length of film had rolled out, he took it to the light box, although it was still damp. Even without a loupe, he could tell this was the perfect pose to show off the spreaders, with the added benefit of the chained cuffs. Ashley would be thrilled.

The lines of submission in the bound body coupled with the undeniable elegance of the curves and planes of his form made Nicholas the perfect model for this job.

Except, Nicholas wasn’t a model. In fact, Nicholas was most likely not going to be coming back at all. Damian smiled ruefully as he surveyed the rest of the shots. He paused, arrested when he came to the shot where he had spanked Nicholas.

He licked his lips as he looked at it. It was delicious. The camera had caught the moment when Nicholas looked back over his shoulder, his lips parted with surprise, his eyes wide, showing fear, shock, and an arousal that Damian felt sure he would have preferred to hide.

The way his body was angled revealed one dark nipple, large and luscious, begging to be pinched. Nicholas had managed to twist his body enough that his cock was barely backlit, outlined against the backdrop, a cock that was hard and standing upright, hungry for attention.

Damian’s hand brushed over the bulge in his jeans when he saw his own handprint on Nicholas’s ass, like a brand of ownership, the reddened skin contrasting with the pale, subtly curved flesh.

“I must have a print of that one,” Damian muttered. No matter what, that shot was going to be a permanent and prominent part of his own private collection, the one he never showed the world.

He reached for his cock and stroked himself to another massive orgasm, his gaze glued on the best shot he’d ever taken, until he closed his eyes as ecstasy washed over him.

 

 

NICK WOKE up with a start. The alarm hadn’t gone off but he had. He smiled ruefully. After jacking off in the bathroom, he’d settled down to study, only to have to yank his mind back to his books every two seconds.

Now he was lying in a puddle of his own rapidly cooling cum. And yet his cock was still half-hard.

“Dude,” Nick said out loud, but softly. “You’re going to have to stop thinking about it.”

Instead, he thought about it some more, his stomach fluttering with the thrill that rolled through him whenever he went over the entire afternoon, step by excruciating step. He thought he knew what he was doing when he took his clothes off. He was an art student, and he’d modeled for pay before; besides, he’d watched Damian at work, and the man never laid a hand on his models.

It must be something about him, he thought miserably. Something that he didn’t know about himself but that Damian could see that would make the man tie him up. No, not merely tie him, but put those leather restraints on his wrists, stretching him to trap him at the bar. And then the spreaders. The cold metal had contrasted with the enticing warmth of Damian’s fingers, barely brushing his skin as he locked Nick into them.

He rolled onto his knees. Without realizing it, Nick’s left hand was fondling his balls as he stroked his cock with his right. He thought about Damian’s hands on him, caressing his arm gently, and finally that strong hand chastising him with a hard swat to the arse.

And then Nick cried out as he came yet again, arching his back so his throbbing backside was raised up, offered to the man he imagined to be standing behind him.

 

 

Chapter 2

 

 

ASHLEY WAS impatient. “What, the little bugger didn’t show up?”

“No, and his agency can’t seem to locate him. We’ll have to book a different model,” Damian said. He was a little distracted. Nicholas hadn’t come in either, and he himself had had a restless night. Every time he tried to fall asleep, he’d found himself rolling over to turn on the light, gloating over the one print he’d made of Nicholas, staring at him in shock.

He resolved that he would burn the negatives. After all, the young man hadn’t agreed to this so it wasn’t right for him to keep them. He would definitely burn them.

Just not yet.

“So who d’ya fancy? A blond, a brunet?” Ashley asked looking through a number of headshots. “We’ll have to see them in person, won’t we?”

“Of course. You never can tell from their card. Hell, they even lie about their measurements,” Damian said.

“They list their measurements?” Ashley asked with excitement, peering at the card.

“Height and weight, Ash, not length,” Damian said with a smirk.

He turned at a slight creak of the door. Nicholas was standing there, neatly placing his backpack in a corner, out of the way.

“Hi, Damian, Mr. Winthrop. Do you want a coffee?” he mumbled, looking at the floor. He didn’t dare look at Damian’s face, for fear the other man would make fun of him. Or even worse, Damian might know just by looking at him that he had spent the entire night jacking off thinking about him… and, even more humiliating, doing things to him.

“Yes, please, go down and get three, and some muffins,” Damian said happily, handing over some money.

“Latté for me,” Ashley piped up. “Large, cinnamon—”

“I remember, Mr. Winthrop. Large, cinnamon decaf, whipped cream, nonfat.” Nick took the bill, carefully not touching Damian’s fingers, and vanished to the café that his employer favored.

Ashley looked after Nicholas in disbelief and then at Damian, who was grinning stupidly after his assistant. “What did you do to make him behave?”

“Oh, I just gave him a little spanking,” Damian said.

Ashley laughed heartily. “If only, but in this day and age of lawsuits, we can’t do that to employees anymore. Pity, really. Lots of boys would be improved by a strong hand. Well, whatever you said to him, it seems to have worked.”

Damian laughed, wondering what Ashley would say if he knew what had really happened. “Brunet,” he said.

“What, what—oh, the model. Yes, I tend to agree, except for some of these black leather bits. They always go better on a blond,” Ashley said, bending his head to scrutinize the cards again.

“I was thinking of maybe using Nicholas for a few shots,” Damian said casually.

The carefully noncommittal note in his voice alerted Ashley that something was up. He decided to tease Damian. “I don’t know, my dear Damian, you can’t just pitchfork an innocent into something like this,” he said, stroking his chin. “He would be shocked. Very shocked.”

Damian grinned, remembering how easily Nicholas had stripped for him. “I wasn’t thinking of the out-and-out kink shots. I was just thinking he might do well for some of the leather clothing.”

Ashley considered. “All right, he is a pretty boy, if annoying. We’ll ask him. Pay him the base model rate?”

“If he does well. I’ll need to do a test shot first, of course.”

“Of course,” Ashley agreed, amusement twisting his lips.

The door opened, and Nick came in, carefully balancing a box containing a selection of pastries and three coffees. He set everything out on the small table in the kitchen, bringing napkins and paper plates. He retrieved the cream from the refrigerator and placed spoons for the sugar.

“Sit down with us, Nicholas,” Damian said.

Nick glanced up through his lashes, without raising his head, startled into silence. He wondered if he was about to be fired or propositioned as Damian pushed one of the coffees across to him.

“Ashley has a proposal for you.”

Nick blushed furiously, wondering if Damian had told the attractive blond man what had happened the night before. He started to get up, but a hand clamped around his wrist, holding him in place.

Damian pitched his voice soothingly, to calm the boy down. “It’s not that scary, Nicholas. He just wants to know if you’d be willing to show off some of these clothes.”

Ashley pushed an older catalog across the table, and Nick could see ordinary leather trousers, such as he might wear to go dancing in a club if he had the money for either the pants or the club.

He looked up to find Damian smiling reassuringly at him. “I’d want to take some test shots, to see if you’re suited. After all, Ashley will need to see you on film before he comes to a decision.”

Nick nodded slightly and sighed in relief. He understood that Damian was telling him that Ashley hadn’t seen the shots from yesterday. “Okay, I guess… I could do that.” Very faint stress on the “that.”

Damian smiled broadly in satisfaction. If he got Nicholas to agree to that much, he had no doubt he would soon be able to convince him to model some of the more outré oddments. Considering that he had photographic evidence of how much Nicholas had enjoyed himself, he figured it was a sure thing if handled delicately.

Ashley licked the whipped cream off his straw, watching the byplay between the two of them. Damian was up to something; Ashley was sure of it. He’d enjoy watching this play out, because yesterday, Nicholas had been defiant and rude. But today, he was polite and wary. Something must have happened between them.

“Nicholas, call the agency for these boys and arrange a cattle call for tomorrow. When you’ve done that, join us in the back. We’ll find a pair of those leather trousers to fit you and snap a couple of shots,” Damian directed.

He got up and strolled into the studio with Ashley, without checking to see whether Nicholas was following orders.

“Come on; you can tell me,” Ashley said persuasively.

“Tell you what?” Damian asked.

“What happened between you and the boy? You didn’t really spank him… did you?” Ashley unconsciously adjusted himself in his shrinking pants.

“If I did, would I be likely to tell you?” Damian teased. “And if I didn’t, maybe I’d lie to impress you.”

Ashley guffawed at that, bending over so far, he slid off his stool. Damian stretched out a hand to steady him, smiling to see his friend so amused.

“As if you give a damn about impressing anyone,” Ashley gasped.

Nick came in, watching silently until Damian had nudged Ashley into good behavior, and asked, “All set?”

“Yeah, the agency has most of them set up for nine to twelve, but a few models can only come in from one to five. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” Damian said. “What size waist and inseam?”

Nick mumbled his size, and Ashley quickly sorted through the stacks he’d brought, pulling out all the trousers in Nick’s size.

Nick reached out to stroke a pair of dark, wine-red trousers, made of the softest leather. “I like these.”

“They’ll go with your coloring, kid,” Damian said, remembering the smooth, honey-toned skin that had been exposed fully to him the night before.

Nick looked up guiltily, wondering what Damian was thinking. He hoped that nothing of his arousal was showing, unaware that his wide eyes and parted lips spoke volumes to both men.

“Put this on with it,” Ashley said, tossing a white shirt at Nick.

Nick caught it, his fingers sliding against the silky fabric.

“Go get dressed, boy,” Damian urged. “We’ll take a few shots so Ashley can make a decision.”

Nick went to the bathroom to change while Damian set up his digital camera on the tripod standing right where he’d left it the previous evening. It amused him to direct Nicholas to the same set, and he wondered maliciously how uncomfortable it would make the young man.

Ashley gave a wolf whistle when Nicholas emerged from the bathroom. The silk of the shirt was thin and the flat dark circles of his nipples showed dimly through the fabric. The leather pants clung to his slim hips, outlining each cheek of his arse, the smooth lines telling the two older men that he was going commando.

“Nicholas,” Damian said, his husky voice purring with power, “go into the set. Put both hands behind you and lean on that bar.”

Nick felt his cock twitch at the tone in Damian’s voice; the slow drawl was commanding, but promised a rich reward for obedience. Automatically, he walked to the canvas, shivering from the cold of the painted concrete floor under his bare feet. The canvas was a little warmer, although he stumbled as he tripped over the forgotten lump of foam under the cloth.

When he reached the bar, Nick faced Damian, not fully, but turned into the light, his eyes flicking questioningly to the photographer to see if he was posed correctly.

“Hands behind your back. Lean on the bar,” Damian directed encouragingly.

Ashley moved abruptly to stand behind the cart that held Damian’s computer monitor tethered to the camera, in order to hide his burgeoning cock. At Damian’s order, Nick had put his hands behind him, grabbing the bar, making him arch his chest out, the buttons pulling a bit. His nipples were hard and the little peaks were shadowed as the white silk pressed against them.

“Good boy,” Damian said softly.

Even from where Ashley stood, he could see how the soft leather outlined every ridge and vein of Nicholas’s cock as it stood erect in sharp relief. Damian’s voice had had its effect on Nick. No matter how he tried to make it go down, Nick’s erection continued to grow.

The pose he had taken had the effect of making him look as if his hands were bound behind him, but his eyes were defiant and his mouth sulky. His dark curly hair swept almost to his shoulders.

Damian strode onto the set and tousled the boy’s hair, making him look as if he’d just rolled out of bed. He pulled out his own lip balm, smearing it onto the pink curved mouth until it glistened. Damian pretended not to notice how Nicholas jumped whenever he touched him, panting softly through parted lips. As a final touch, he opened one button of the shirt, dragging his fingertips deliberately over the exposed skin to pull the shirt slightly open. He smiled right into Nicholas’s eyes as he heard a small groan of desire, inaudible to Ashley.

“Good boy,” he said again, and he returned to his camera.

Nick was acutely aware of every feather-light brush of Damian’s fingers against his skin, the thumb smearing the salve on his lips, fingers drawing along his chest, and hands on his shoulders positioning him just so. He forgot that Ashley was even in the studio with them.

“Damian,” Ashley said in a breathy voice. “That looks good.”

“Good enough to eat?” Damian asked softly, so Nick couldn’t hear the words, only his voice.

“Good enough to beat,” Ashley concurred, laughing as Damian frowned at him. Having got his cock back under control, he sauntered up behind Damian. “Don’t worry; he’s yours. You have first dibs.”

“Mine?” Damian was shocked. “I don’t want him. I’m done with all that.”

“No, you’re not,” Ashley said confidently. “Besides, this one’s yours, whether you want him or not. He jumps to attention when you speak. Watch.” Raising his voice, he called to the boy, “Nicholas, turn to your left just a bit.”

“All right,” Nick called back confidently, moving as Ashley had requested.

“See? Nothing. Now you try.”

Damian looked up and smiled at Nicholas. “Slide down the bar camera right.”

“Yes, sir.”

Ashley smirked as the boy who’d been so defiant yesterday slid obediently and unerringly in the correct direction, anxiously watching Damian to make sure he was doing right.

“Thank you,” Damian said courteously.

Nicholas looked as if he’d just opened his Christmas present.

“See? He’s yours,” Ashley nudged Damian.

“Don’t want him. Don’t want anyone,” Damian grumped as he started shooting.

Sure you don’t, but someone wants you even if he doesn’t know it yet, Ashley thought shrewdly. And I don’t think you’re going to have much to say about this one.

Out loud, he said, “Quit acting such a hermit, Ian. You’re only thirty-two! You have many years left to you. Do you want them all to be empty?” He held up a hand to forestall the photographer’s hasty retort. “I know; you have your art. But are you really going to turn down a chance to bed that lovely creature?” He licked his lips as he turned to look at Nicholas.

“Unbutton the shirt all the way,” Damian called out harshly. He cringed at the wounded look on Nicholas’s face as he started to unbutton the shirt.

Damian strode forward and pulled at the shirt so it lay open over the boy’s chest. He muttered, “Sorry, Ashley’s taking the piss with me.”

“It’s all right,” Nick said softly.

Damian patted the young man’s hip absently, looking straight into the questioning brown eyes when he heard the sharp intake of breath. “Take it easy, kid. Not now.”

Nick nodded, his pupils dilated and his breath panting from him. He just knew his cock was outlined by the tight leather for the two men to see, but he didn’t dare to look down to check.

Damian was all business as he went back to shooting. “Okay, Nicholas, take off the shirt now.”

Nick did so, his dark skin gleaming under the lights like dull silk with the slight sheen of sweat.

“Nice tattoo, Nicholas. When did you get that?” Ashley called out.

Nick glanced at the bird partly visible on his hip, noticing all at once that the dark trail of hair leading down from his navel was very noticeable in the low-slung pants. “When I came to London to go to school,” he answered, and then his gaze flew to meet Damian’s.

The older man was smirking. “Need to take a break, Nicholas?” he teased, but his eyes were serious, questioning whether the boy was really in distress.

“No!”

Well. That came out stronger than he’d intended. Nick averted his gaze and realized Ashley was laughing at him too. When Damian ordered him to turn around, he did so gratefully. He glanced back over his shoulder to see both sets of eyes glued to his arse, but at least turned this way, they couldn’t tell how turned on he was when he obeyed Damian’s orders.

Ashley was hard-pressed to keep his hand off himself. The way the pants cupped the two perfect globes, hugging the taut flesh and creeping into the valley between them, made him very sure that he needed to visit one of his favorite clubs and soon. Preferably this afternoon.

“Stick your butt out, Nicholas,” Damian said.

Ashley glanced sidelong at his crotch. Damian always looked tightly packed, but surely, surely, he was a little bigger than usual? He would have to be superhuman to resist a lovely boy like Nick. He was a born sub if Ashley had ever seen one, and his hands itched to have the training of him.

But he was an honorable man, and he really liked Damian. He’d invited him to his favorite club and tried to set him up with some cute boys, but Damian had always smilingly refused. Ashley suspected that he had now met his match. The boy had spirit, but he needed a responsible person to look after him, and he seemed to have attached to Damian for some reason. It might take time, but he was sure that Damian would eventually succumb to the boy’s charms.

“Uh, I have to get going, Ian,” Ashley said, shifting impatiently.

“Wait. Let me download these shots, and you can take a look. This was all for you to decide whether you wanted to use him,” Damian insisted. “It’ll only take a moment.”

Oh, I’d have a use for him, Ashley thought, but he followed Damian to the computer.

“Come on over, Nicholas. See what you look like.”

Nick approached the other two men, curious to see how he looked on film in these clothes.

“Fuck,” Damian said, low and husky, when he saw the images enlarged on his screen. “Nicholas, you’re a natural.”

Natural sub, Ashley thought, but he said, “Good job, Nicholas. I think we can use you; that is, if you agree?”

Nick wrapped his arms around himself, feeling a little exposed to be standing so close to the other two men without his shirt. He was uneasily aware of Ashley’s eyes, which seemed to be drawn to his nipples as if they were targets. He looked up through his lashes at Damian for approval.

Damian was nodding and smiling. “I’d very much like to photograph you, if you’re willing.”

“Okay,” Nick said, his eyes sparkling, although Damian did not understand why.

“Well!” Ashley clapped his hands together, startling the other two, who were lost in their examination of each other. “I’ll be off then. Later, Ian, see you tomorrow. Thank you, Nicholas. You’ll be an asset, I’m sure.” He bustled to the door, heading gratefully to his club, which was located not too far away. He needed a little relief.

Nick stood with his arms wrapped around himself, wondering if he should go and change.

“Well, go take those off,” Damian said, pointedly looking at the bulge distending the front of the pants. “We don’t want you stretching them so they’re too baggy for the shoot.”

Nick blushed hotly and ran for the bathroom, unaware that Damian was pressing a hand over his own crotch at the sight of those perfect buttocks flexing under the thin leather.

When he was safe in his own baggy clothing again, Nick came out and hung the leather trousers on the rack Damian had provided.

Hearing some noise in the darkroom, Nick went to the door, looking in questioningly. “Anything else today?”

Damian whirled around guiltily, hiding something behind him. “Oh! No, I don’t think so. You can go, Nicholas.”

“Okay, then. See you tomorrow?”

Damian smiled, enjoying the answering hopeful smile on the boy’s face.

“Tomorrow. Don’t be late.”

“Yes, sir!”

Damian looked after the slim figure, startled. Maybe Ashley was right.

Both he and Nick slept very little that night.

 

 

Chapter 3

 

 

NICK WENT through agonies of jealousy the next day, although he didn’t recognize it enough to call it by name. Damian and Ashley were ensconced on stools in the studio, leaving it to Nick to check the names off the list as the models turned up. They were almost all good-looking enough to be considered beautiful, Nick thought sadly, wondering how a regular guy like him could hold a candle to some of these men. Almost all were taller than he, most had awesomely muscular bodies, and their faces were uniformly handsome.

Gloomily he crossed his eyes, trying to get a glimpse of his nose. He couldn’t remember exactly what it had looked like before he broke it, but even if it had been perfect, he was still nothing compared to the professionals.

He got to watch as Ashley poked through the boxes of his products, selecting various items for the men to model for test shots. All of the models seemed to feel supremely comfortable walking around completely naked, and they were not embarrassed in the least by the collection of manacles, leg irons, cock cages, and masks that they wore for their various shots; most of it made Nick blush, although he couldn’t turn away from the sight.

And yet, he wondered if Damian would like to see him in any of those items. He’d heard about this kinky stuff, of course; with the Internet being what it was anyone could see things that would shock their mothers, but he’d never given any thought to ever being in the same room with any of these items, let alone wearing them. The leather trousers he had worn yesterday were tame compared to most of the “clothing” he saw today.

Ashley and Damian teased and joked with the various boys, who all appeared quite at ease. Only two had stalked out indignantly when they’d seen the kinky gear, refusing to audition for the job. Nick had to wonder why they’d even shown up; the agencies had been informed just what type of project this was.

He slipped surreptitiously into the bathroom twice, unable to keep his hands off himself; once when Ashley had laughingly smacked a willing blond model’s arse red with a leather paddle, and the other time when Damian had helped a young man into a leather harness, complete with a cock cage and ball spreader. The blond had appeared to enjoy his paddling, but it was the mere sight of Damian’s hands on the model and imagining them against his own skin, strapping him into that harness, that made Nick cling to the towel bar, gritting his teeth to remain silent when he came.

It was even worse when the female models arrived in the afternoon, as they were a complete shock to Nick. He hadn’t even known that Damian intended to shoot women as well. If he’d known enough to give it any thought, Nick might have assumed that most men fantasized about women in the submissive role, but the two girls selected to play dommes terrified him. Once in costume they seemed to take entirely too much pleasure in snapping their whips around as if they had some experience behind them.

It was all very confusing. Nick would have thought that the sight of shapely women in kinky, revealing costumes might have turned him on, but his most fervent hope was that he not be paired with any of them for his shots.

When the models had all gone for the day, Damian and Ashley sat down to analyze the test shots with Nick hovering in the background, trying to compare them to his tame photos from yesterday. Despairingly, he decided that now that the pros had shown their stuff, Damian would most likely forget about using him.

Ashley and Damian sorted through the shots quickly, discarding some, putting some in the maybe pile, and others into the final.

“Do you like this boy?” Ashley asked, contemplating the blond he’d paddled. “He would look well in the black stuff, I think.”

“Yeah, he’ll do,” Damian said, contemplating a muscular black man with dark hair on his chest. “You don’t mind a bit of fur, do you? It would make a nice contrast to Nicholas.”

Nick jumped at his name. Maybe Damian still meant to use him after all.

“Yes, and this blond as well. Then we can mix and match, dark with light, or two darks and two lights,” Ashley said.

“Yeah, that works for me. What about this guy as a backup?”

“Red hair?” Ashley said dubiously. “Always makes me think of Carrot Top. Not hot at all.”

“But he’d be a contrast. And Crispin likes gingers,” Damian teased gently.

“That’s true, and we have to keep Crispin happy, don’t we?”

“No,” Damian said. “I don’t. You do.”

“Touché.” Ashley laughed.

“And these two girls in the domme outfits worked out rather well, I thought.”

“That dark one reminds me a bit of Bettie Paige,” Ashley commented.

Nick made a note to himself to Google Bettie Paige when he got home, hoping it might shed some light.

“She’s got the bangs right, but she doesn’t have that innocent joyousness that Bettie Paige had,” Damian said regretfully.

“Pity, really. I’d love to have seen what you could have done with the original.”

“Yeah, but I was born too late. Bettie recently passed away. She’ll be missed.” Damian shuffled through the Polaroids. “What about this blonde woman with the faux tits? She looked right at home as a submissive.”

Ashley gave the Polaroid a brief glance. “You know I’ve no interest in the female of the species. Do we really need to include ladies in the catalog?”

“Their money is just as good as a man’s,” Damian said. “You’re cutting off half your potential buyers if you leave them out.”

“Very well. Choose the ones you like, and I’m sure you’ll be right. They all look the same to me.” Ashley got up and stretched, and then realized Nick was still hovering behind them and clapped him on the shoulder. “I shall be hoping to persuade you to model more than just those leather pants, my lad. You’re more beautiful than all the rest of these boys put together and most of the girls. Between you posing and Damian doing the photography, this catalog is certain to go down in history.”

“Th—thanks, I think,” Nick stuttered, bewildered at this turn of events.

“You’re still at uni, correct? I expect you’re the poor student type; otherwise you wouldn’t be working for this maniac,” Ashley said, smiling at his friend. “I shall expect to pay just what I pay the others, provided you put out your best effort.” He named an hourly sum that made Nick gape at the munificence of it. That was almost enough for him to quit his job and focus on his studies. Only he didn’t want to quit his job now.

Nick nodded weakly, and Ashley clapped him encouragingly on the shoulder before leaving. “Excellent. We’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“So are you going to let me see you in any of these wicked costumes?” Damian asked with a grin.

“Well, some of them are a bit… a bit…,” Nick floundered, at a loss for words.

“Extreme?”

Nick nodded.

Damian smiled. “You’ll get used to it. The human animal is the most adaptable one on Earth. What shocks you today will be commonplace tomorrow. You’ll see.” He nodded encouragingly.

“I wouldn’t want my mum to see me in any of these,” Nick blurted.

“Somehow I doubt she’s on Ashley’s mailing list. And if she is, she probably won’t mention it. But if it’s any comfort I could show you the shots I took the other day. You’ll see; no one will see enough of your face to recognize you,” Damian said matter-of-factly, hoping it would calm the young man. “The allure of the unknown is always more powerful than dull reality.”

“I would like to see them,” Nick said boldly. “I didn’t think you’d show them to me.”

“You need to learn to ask for what you want,” Damian scolded gently. “How will anyone know how to please you if you don’t make your needs known?”

Nick didn’t know what to say to that, but luckily Damian had placed his hand on his back, guiding him into the darkroom.

“Have a seat,” Damian said, turning down the lights. “I haven’t shown these to Ashley, in case you’re wondering.”

Nick blinked as his image flashed up onto the large plasma screen. Damian must have scanned in all the images. He nearly jumped up and ran when he was confronted with his own naked body. It was one of the early shots; he was naked and only his hands were bound to the bar.

He gulped quietly. He had no idea he could look like that, every curve and dip of his muscles taut under his skin, glowing like burnished gold under the artful lighting. His face was turned far enough away to be concealed in shadow, yet enough light played over it to reveal the shape of his cheekbone and the defined line of his jaw.

Damian started the slide show, watching Nicholas’s reactions carefully as the photographs became progressively more graphic. Damian had been holding the cable release while he locked Nicholas’s ankles into the spreaders, accidentally pressing the button while he worked. He heard an audible gasp when Nicholas saw the shot; the photographer, biceps bulging the short sleeves of his black T-shirt, bending to spread Nicholas’s legs.

Nervously Nick flicked a glance at Damian, flushing when he saw the older man looking straight at him. He returned his gaze to the screen, thankful for the darkness.

“Fuuuuck,” Nick let out on a slow breath when the last shot came up. The expression on his face, showing shock, submission, and hope, combined with the reddened print of a hand on his arse, made his cock hard in seconds. His arse started to throb again with the memory of it.

He jumped when he felt hands press down on each of his shoulders, holding him still in his seat.

A husky voice whispered in his ear. “Do you know how hot that photograph made me, Nick? I couldn’t sleep that night, thinking about you. About your tight little ass, about you, naked, kneeling in front of me.

“That’s what you want, Nicky, isn’t it? You want to be naked in my presence, on your knees. You’d like it if I just took my pleasure of you, used you any way I liked. Are you wondering what it will feel like when I kiss you, take your mouth, and fuck it with my tongue?”

Damian was pleased with the low moan that answered his words. Nick was facing away from him, so the tension in his shoulders and the quickened sound of his breathing were Damian’s only clues as to how his verbal seduction was being received.

“What if I found your nipples and pulled on them with my fingers, twisting and pinching until those dark circles were pointed, aching little peaks, ’til you thought you couldn’t take it any longer? Do you like it when someone plays with your nipples? Do you like having them bitten?”

Nick’s entire body shuddered.

“And if I told you I was going to take down your pants and warm your bottom for you, would that give you a thrill? Did it make you hard when I spanked you, kneeling there, tied and bound into a spreader, completely at my mercy? Only able to move if I moved you, only able to do what I gave you my permission to do? Does that excite you?”

“Yes,” Nick whispered. For a moment his body became malleable in Damian’s hands, his rigid spine relaxing enough for him to lean back against the hard, solid body behind him. He felt Damian’s arms move to circle him, and he panicked.

He ran.

Damian heard the outer door slam shut and closed his empty hands, smiling as he gazed, mesmerized, at Nick’s image on the screen. “You’ll be back, boy,” he said.

 

 

AFTER TOSSING and turning all night, Nick got up in the morning, exhausted and with dark circles under his eyes. He had jacked off six times during the endless sleepless night, replaying that sultry voice making sinful suggestions hotly in his ear while he looked at his own debauched image, and two strong hands held him in place.

He knew that Damian had let him go; the man was strong enough to hold him against his will if he so desired. It was the very fact that Damian had allowed him to escape that made Nick trust him all the more.

He had never even had fantasies like this before, but Nick admitted to himself that it turned him on unbearably to think of Damian holding him down, turning him over his knee and spanking him. He even wondered how that leather paddle might feel.

He had never even suspected that he might be harboring a desire to go to bed with a man, but all he could think of was his desired reward, of being on his knees, under Damian’s control, with the other man’s hard cock filling his mouth.

Nick dreamed of the scent and taste of the other man. He knew Damian was big; he filled out his pants very adequately, and he wasn’t the type of guy to stuff. Had a nice arse too. Nick awoke to the fact that he was, yet again, stroking his poor sore dick, and stopped himself, horrified that he’d taken notice of another guy’s arse. The thrill of the unknown was turning him on like he’d never been turned on before, even through the succession of girls that he’d pursued and dated; even after the visual stimulus of the beautiful female models clad in S&M outfits.

But there was no question about not going to the shoot. Nick didn’t consider himself unusually brave, but there was no way he could run away from this. He had to know. He had to face Damian again.

 

 

Chapter 4

 

 

DAMIAN WAS surprised when Nick arrived a little bit early, reflecting that his assistant’s punctuality had certainly improved since that memorable night, but today the young man was walking taller, proudly looking Damian in the eye for the first time in a week.

The makeup artist arrived with his assistant, stopping any confidences that might have been forthcoming as Nick helped Gabe carry his gear in. Then Nick was occupied with organizing the models to get them ready.

Ashley arrived, and Nick was sent to fetch coffee and pastries for breakfast.

“Don’t you think you should hire a temporary assistant to help Nicholas?” Ashley asked, looking after the young man. “I’ll stand the nonsense; I don’t want him so tired he falls over asleep whilst we’re shooting.”

Damian looked at Ashley with his mouth open. “I never thought of that.”

“Dense,” Ashley quipped, knocking Damian’s head. “I’ll have someone sent over from my office. Don’t want the lad thinking that he’s being replaced. We’ll have my assistant over.”

“You mean my former assistant,” Damian sniped.

“Ah, you’re not missing much, trust me,” Ashley said breezily. “Derek doesn’t even fancy a little spanking. I’ve moved on. But he is an efficient assistant, and I don’t have to hide anything from him.”

“Good,” Damian laughed. “Glad to hear Derek can schedule your kinky appointments for you without hindrance.”

Nick kicked the door open, his hands full, and Ashley sprang forward to help. “Let me get those, lad. I’m calling my assistant over to help out for the duration, so perhaps you’d better get into the makeup chair now.”

Nick realized the first two models were already in the studio and hesitantly went to the makeup room, relieved that none of the female models were scheduled to arrive until the stylists were finished readying the men.

“Take off your shirt,” Gabe and his assistant chanted to him. The assistant looked very similar to Gabe, except he was a little shorter, rounder, balder, and even more flamboyant in his wardrobe choices.

Gritting his teeth, Nick stripped to the waist, knowing that Gabe was just loving this. “Keep your hands off me,” he told the shorter man.

“Oooh, honey, don’t worry. I don’t want a spanking from your master,” Gabe taunted.

Nick blushed in agony; the mere words turned him on and embarrassed him. And Gabe was the last person he felt safe around now that he had this huge secret.

Gabe swept a plastic cape around Nick’s neck and patted his shoulder gently. “Don’t mind me, honey. I just like to tease a bit. Your virtue is safe with me,” he said quietly, so the other model couldn’t hear.

Nick was surprised at the sincerity in the other man’s voice. “Thanks, Gabe. I’m just… a bit nervous. I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“Don’t worry, sweetie. I’ve shot with Ashley before. If you don’t play, he won’t use any of his toys on you. And I doubt Damian would allow you to be hurt anyway.”

“Why?” Nick asked, hoping that maybe Gabe knew how Damian felt about him, because he certainly didn’t have a clue.

“Lawsuits, honey. Can’t let the models get hurt on the job,” Gabe simpered. He nudged the other model with his hip, raising his voice. “Unless they beg for it, of course.”

“Did someone mention begging?” the blond asked, smiling. Nick recognized him as the one that Ashley had given a play spanking to at the cattle call. “It’s my specialty.”

Gabe bent to whisper in Nick’s ear. “Markie will be going home with Ashley tonight, if I know Ashley, and he’ll show up tomorrow with some lovely stripes on his arse. Fancies the cane, and Ashley’s an expert with it. Probably ride him screaming ’til dawn.”

Suddenly Nick wondered if he were making a terrible mistake.

 

 

MODELING WAS made up of long boring stretches of time, Nick decided, except for the exciting bits. And the terrifying bits. After starting the week out positive that he was straight and never even having heard of some of the devices he’d seen modeled today, Nick had been held in another man’s arms for the first time.

And enjoyed it.

But perhaps it was more because of the fiercely possessive look that ignited in Damian’s eyes as he watched the two models twine themselves together. Ashley had been right; Nick’s dark beauty was positively exotic next to the larger blond, whose tawny good looks and pale skin made a perfect foil.

Markie was taller and more muscular than Nick, who looked almost delicate in his arms. Both wore black leather chaps over a black thong to cover their genitals. Nick had been turned away from the camera while the blond man held him in position, gripping his upper arms, so that his face was mostly hidden, but his arse fully exposed except for the single strand of silk emerging from between the curved spheres.

Usually Damian had no trouble with these kinds of shoots—he’d done so many; but seeing Nick in various revealing outfits with other men’s hands on his body was a horrible tease for him. He was careful to isolate Nick from the female models, and at least he managed to ensure that none of the males touched Nick’s ass; that belonged to him.

He caught himself short, thinking furiously. Where had that come from? Was he really ready to make himself emotionally vulnerable again, let alone to someone ten years younger, and a boy who had never been part of the scene and didn’t know the first thing about playing?

It was probably just passing curiosity on Nick’s part, he reminded himself. Even if something did develop, he would not get emotionally involved with the younger man. The inevitable parting would be so much easier that way.

Ashley walked onto the set to make some slight adjustment and called ready to Damian when he finished and skipped out.

Damian looked up and growled; the blond had dug his fingers into Nick’s luscious ass, pulling the slighter man against him so their crotches were ground together. Nick was twisting slightly, leaning his upper body away, his hands pushing at the other man’s bare chest, as if he were an unwilling participant.

It was a great picture, so Damian shot it, his mind clearing as he worked. Nick was unwilling, with anyone but him. As if to provide confirmation, when Nick was released by the blond model, he staggered slightly in his haste to get away, and for the first time he wasn’t filling out the soft cup that covered him.

Damian strode over to Nicholas and grabbed his arm to steady him, handing him a towel to cover himself for modesty. “Last shot for the day. Go get dressed.”

Nick nodded in relief and whispered, “Sorry. I didn’t know he was going to do that.”

Damian nodded and gave him a little push in the direction of the changing room. “Get dressed. We’ll talk later.”

When Nick and Markie had left the room, Damian turned on his mischievous client, eyes blazing. “What the fuck did you do that for?”

“I didn’t do anything, dear boy. I wasn’t in the shot,” Ashley said airily. He picked up a rattan cane and swished it through the air, making it whistle threateningly.

Damian caught his arm, stopping the larger man’s swing. “You told that blond model to grab Nick’s ass. Tell him to keep his hands off my—” He stopped short, shocked at what he was going to say.

“Don’t worry, Ian. Despite looking the part of a top, Markie is strictly a bottom. And tonight he’s going to feel his bottom, trust me,” Ashley said, swinging the cane again. “It’s about time you came to your senses.”

“I came to—what are you talking about?” Damian asked angrily.

“He wants you. You want him. Nick’s curious. Claim him before someone else does. He’s an innocent, and he could easily get hurt. He’ll never be a heavy player, but he’s so beautiful, if you don’t train him, he’ll stumble into some seedy club and get torn to pieces,” Ashley said seriously. “You have a responsibility to him.”

“Why me?” Damian sighed, rubbing his hands through his sandy hair. “I don’t want this.”

“You’re lying, and you’re most generally an honest man,” Ashley pointed out. “Look, Ian, you don’t have to tell me a thing, although I’d love to hear every juicy detail, every moan and groan, with a full description of what his arse looks like nicely reddened, but you own him. Even worse, he’s beginning to own you.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Damian agreed with a sudden rueful smile.

Ashley laid a hand on Damian’s shoulder. “We like to think we’re in charge, but we poor Tops are the real slaves. We have to do all the work and still deliver the sensations the bottom is looking for, or they complain and we’re drummed out of the life in disgrace,” Ashley ended dramatically.

“Poor Ashley,” Damian mocked.

The blond came into the studio in his street clothes and slipped his arm around Ashley’s waist. “Ready, lover?”

“That’s sir to you,” Ashley said sternly, before giving Damian a big grin. “Duty calls. This arse will be nicely striped tomorrow for the cane shots.”

“Keep them even,” Damian teased.

“I always do,” Ashley boasted, squeezing Markie’s arse and then giving him a brisk swat. “Get going, you.”

“Yes, sir,” the blond said meekly, but he winked at Damian before he followed Ashley out.

Nick was standing there in his usual baggy jeans, his mouth agape as he watched the two men leave.

“Lock the door, Nick,” Damian said.

Silently Nick went to do as he was told. He came back and waited quietly for Damian to say something more.

Damian puttered around, taking no evident notice of Nick’s discomfiture. Finally he led the way to his office, saying “Follow me.”

Nick complied, walking quietly behind the older man.

Although the office was designed in a spare and modern style, there was one old-fashioned, wooden straight chair. It always stood in the corner, and Nick had wondered what sentimental associations it held for Damian, because it clearly did not go with the clean, modern lines of the other furnishings.

Damian pulled the chair to the middle of the room and sat on it. He pointed at the floor and instinctively Nick dropped to his knees, awaiting whatever might come next. His heart started the trip-hammer beat again, and his breath came faster. He looked up at Damian anxiously.

“Eyes down, boy,” Damian ordered.

Obediently, Nick dropped his eyes. His hands were trembling, and Damian said, “Clasp your hands behind your back.”

Nick did so, hoping that would still them.

“What is it you want from me, Nicholas?”

Nick nearly looked up at the odd, almost pleading note in Damian’s voice. “I’m not sure.”

“Sir. You will address me as sir when we are alone like this,” Damian instructed, the tremor in his voice gone now. “Last night I asked you some questions. Do you remember what they were?”

“Yes, sir,” Nick said docilely enough, but his quickened breathing betrayed him.

“I want an answer to each one of them.”

Nick drew a deep breath. If he was ever going to know, he would have to own his own desires, speak them out loud. And he trusted Damian; he might hurt him, but somehow Nick knew that no matter what he asked for, Damian would know how much he could bear.

“I don’t know how hot that photograph made you, but I hope that it did. I do want to be naked in your presence, on my knees. I want to give you pleasure. I want you to use me any way you like. I’ve dreamt about what it would feel like for you to kiss me.

“No one has ever bitten my nipples, so I don’t know if I’d like it. I want you….” Nick gulped and breathed hard. “I want you to… to… take down my pants and warm my bottom. I think it would give me a thrill.”

“Bravo, you remembered,” Damian said slowly. “But you didn’t answer the last one. Does it excite you to be under my power, to surrender your pleasure to me, to trust me to give you enjoyment when you deserve it, to be under my control?”

“Yes, sir.” That answer was little more than a breath, but Damian had no trouble hearing it.

“What is the most populous city in the EU?” he demanded next.

“London,” Nick answered, startled.

“How would that be for a safe word?” Damian asked.

“What’s a safe word?”

Damian was shaken at how nearly he had decided to ignore Nick’s obvious interest. Perhaps Ashley was right; Nick did need someone to take him in hand. The innocent kid didn’t even know what a safe word was.

“Look at me, pet,” Damian said, raising Nick’s face with a finger under his chin. “Listen well now. You’re telling me that you’re ready to take a step into the world of kink, and you don’t even know what a safe word is. If I’m doing something to you and it’s too much for you, you give me your safe word, and I’ll stop whatever we’re doing to make sure you’re okay. It’s not safe to play with anyone, no matter how safe they may appear to be when they’re negotiating with you, without a safe word.”

“If I spank you, you can moan and squirm and say no, and I won’t stop until I decide that you’ve had enough, but if you say ‘London’ I will stop whatever I’m doing at once. Do you understand that?”

Nick nodded, his eyes shining with fear and excitement.

“Ask me for what you want,” Damian said, releasing Nick’s chin.

Nick squirmed but remained silent.

Damian stood up and walked to a window, looking out at the lights of London in the night. “If you don’t learn to ask for what you want, you will not get it, pet.”

“But it’s embarrassing!” Nick exclaimed.

“Sir,” Damian reminded him with a feral grin.

Nick suddenly wondered if he’d gone mad, kneeling on the floor with his hands clasped behind him in front of this man who had a body as sleek and muscular as a panther. A dangerous glitter in Damian’s eyes reminded him of his lapse.

“Sir, it’s embarrassing,” Nick said earnestly.

“Then you don’t want it enough yet,” Damian said dismissively. “You may go.”

Nick squirmed desperately; if he didn’t ask now he might never get up the courage to come back, and he didn’t want to end this flirtation with danger or whatever it was they were doing.

He took a deep breath, and blushing awfully, he managed to whisper, “Sir, would you please… please… spank me?”

“What have you done to deserve a spanking?” Damian teased.

Nick looked dismayed and confused. “I don’t know, sir?”

“Perhaps I’ll just spank you because I feel like it then,” Damian mused. “I haven’t yet given you any rules, but I would have hoped that you would know better than to let Markie grab your ass like that.”

“I didn’t know he was going to do it!” Nick protested.

“Then it’ll have to be just because I feel like reddening your sweet little behind,” Damian said silkily. He returned to the straight chair and sat down. “Stand up.”

Nick scrambled awkwardly to his feet, embarrassed that his cock was again tenting his jeans in a most obvious way. Damian’s lips twitched when he noticed it, but he preserved his severe expression.

He grabbed the loose waistband, sliding his fingers inside, pulling Nick closer to stand at his right.

“And now,” Damian said, his husky voice drawling the words out slowly and deliberately, “I’m going to take your trousers down and put you over my knee and give you a real ass warming. Obviously you need a good spanking, and you’re due one, my pet. Have you anything to say to that?”

“Please… sir… please…,” Nick whispered incoherently. He was so excited that he was trembling, hoping that Damian meant what he said about taking down his pants. He was quite sure he would not be able to undo them himself.

Damian reached out and slowly unbuttoned the top button and slid the zipper down, relishing the little hiss of the metal. The pants fell to Nick’s knees as soon as Damian let them go, allowing Nick’s cock to rise even higher, confined only by his plaid boxers.

“This spanking will be on bare skin, pet,” Damian continued. He edged the waistband of Nick’s boxers down a little, circling the small tattoo now exposed on the boy’s hip with a gentle finger. “I wonder if I should have you count each swat? But this is your first spanking, and you might forget, and then I’d have to start from the beginning again. I think we’ll wait on that. But I will tell you that I may give you ten swats, just enough to warm up those cute little buns nicely.”

Nick thought he might pass out from anticipation as warm fingers inserted themselves into the elastic waistband of his boxers, sliding around his waist before pulling the boxers down to his knees. He was in an agony of embarrassment at the thought of Damian looking at his dripping cock.

“That won’t last too much longer,” Damian said mockingly. He pulled Nick over his knees by his arms, tipping him over to arrange him so that his ass was presented high in the air, with the boy’s head down by the floor, his feet off the ground, so he could get no leverage to push himself up. He pinned Nick’s left arm between their bodies and grabbed his right wrist, twisting it up behind him and holding it at the small of his back.

Nick squirmed, feeling both humiliated and excited. Damian had not touched his cock, but when he guided Nick’s body down, he had trapped it between his muscular thighs. The rough denim rubbing his cock as Nick pumped his hips slightly was almost enough to push him over the edge.

He waited, not knowing quite what to expect, but suddenly feeling quite safe being held tightly in place by the older man.

“Remember, I’m just spanking you for my pleasure. And I will spank you whenever I like,” Damian announced.

“Yes, sir,” came a muffled voice from close to the floor.

Without any warning, Damian’s hand cracked down on his arse, and Nick yelped in surprise.

“Ow!”

“Yes, spankings hurt, pet,” Damian said calmly, surveying the lovely handprint he’d left on Nick’s right cheek.

His hard hand swatted Nick’s left cheek firmly, and he watched as the rounded flesh flattened for a moment, before bouncing back into shape. Damian felt his own cock stir. This was even more exciting than he had fantasized it would be. The sight of that incredibly beautiful body squirming over his lap, ass reddened with two symmetrical handprints, made him harder than he’d been when fantasizing about this. He must really remember to thank Nick for this exquisite pleasure.

His hand came down again, and Nick jumped, feeling his erection begin to fade. He was beginning to think that he really didn’t like this nearly as much as he’d thought he would. He jumped as the fourth crisp swat landed.

“You’re looking nicely warm around back,” Damian observed. “I think I had better make sure to distribute the heat evenly over your entire seat or you might find it a bit sore to sit down tomorrow.”

Nick was suddenly terrified that tomorrow his arse would still be flaming hot, as it was already, and everyone would know he had been spanked.

As if he’d read his mind, Damian said quietly, “Don’t worry. No marks. No one will know, unless you tell them.”

Why would he ever tell anyone about this, Nick wondered, as he squirmed under the next hard swat. Damian was working his hand all over his bottom, even in the crease at the top of his thighs where it really stung. Nick kicked reflexively as Damian swatted him on a particularly tender spot.

He hadn’t thought he would be able to concentrate on counting, but he had, and when the tenth swat had been administered, he relaxed over Damian’s knee, thankful it was over.

He yelped in shocked disbelief as Damian delivered two harder slaps, one on each cheek.

Damian laughed. “So you were counting, pet. I’ll remember that. I did say it may be ten, remember?”

Nick relaxed as the hard hand that had punished him began to stroke his heated skin, soothing away the sting. He was aware of the throbbing warmth of his backside starting to flow toward the front, and his cock slowly filled again. Nick couldn’t understand why, but now that the spanking was over, suddenly he was getting hard again. He shifted surreptitiously, trying to hide his arousal from Damian.

Damian tipped him off his lap, onto the floor, before pulling Nick up to sit on his knees, his sore bottom hanging safely off his thigh. He wrapped his arms around the younger man.

“You did very well, pet. For a first spanking, you bore it well, and you didn’t cry. Now, would you like a little reward?”

“Yes, please, sir,” Nick said meekly, not altogether sure that his and Damian’s ideas of what constituted a reward would be the same.

He stiffened and gasped when he suddenly felt Damian’s hand on his rigid shaft. The hand was warm and rough, slightly calloused, but Damian stroked him as if he knew just what Nick wanted.

Nick spread his thighs helplessly, allowing Damian better access, moaning when a thumb swiped firmly over the head of his aching cock, sliding in the precum that dripped to the carpet.

Damian’s hand sped up, and Nick’s hips started to pump, thrusting into the fist that surrounded him. It had been a long time since a mere hand job thrilled him, but this one did. Whether it was because it was a man holding him or the spanking or a combination, Nick didn’t know.

His climax hit him like a freight train, dwarfing his efforts at home when he couldn’t sleep for thinking of Damian. He spurted high, catching Damian under the chin, although he never realized it, for his eyes were screwed shut with the almost painful pleasure as he cried out helplessly, feeling like a ragdoll in the strong hands holding him.

Damian smiled, watching his beautiful boy as he gave him the first orgasm. He decided that it would be one of many if the boy proved willing; Nick was incredibly sensitive and responsive. Besides, there was something else about the young man that struck a chord deep within him. Nick’s eyes were still closed when Damian wiped off his chin, sucking his fingers sensuously to enjoy the taste.

He held Nick, cuddling him through the aftershocks of his orgasm, smiling when the liquid eyes opened, glittering when Nick turned his eyes to him, full of wonder.

“That was fucking phenomenal, sir!” he said enthusiastically.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it, pet,” Damian said, amused. “But now there’s a little matter of my satisfaction.”

“What do you want me to do, sir?” Nick asked uneasily.

Damian gave him a soft kiss on the mouth, and Nick leaned into him, parting his lips, but Damian kept his tongue to himself. Nick would have to earn that privilege.

“I want you to kneel. I’m going to jack off on you. I want to mark you, pet,” Damian directed. While it amused him that Nick had actually marked him first without knowing it, it was only right that he stake his own claim.

Obediently, Nick slipped off his lap, kneeling on the floor.

“Take off your shirt.”

Nick obeyed, allowing his shirt to slide off his arms to the floor.

“Hands behind you,” Damian reminded him.

“Yes, sir,” Nick said in his soft voice, clasping his hands behind him, resting them above his flaming arse.

Damian stood up and opened his pants, easing his erection out. It was such a relief that he sighed, and heard the echoing sigh from his young protégé. Nick’s eyes were fixed on the awesome tumescent organ.

“It’s so big,” he breathed.

Sensing the fear in his voice, Damian sought to reassure him. “We’ll take it slow, Nicholas, and you have your safe word if I do anything that scares you.”

“Yes, sir.”

Damian kept his eyes on the beautiful face. Nick clasped his hands behind his back, kneeling with his torso naked, his pants pulled down to his knees, and his face upturned to watch.

It didn’t take long; Damian stroked himself to a quick release, anxious to see his cream on Nick’s body. When he came in three long spurts, the white fluid covered the boy’s chest, glistening on his smooth skin. Nick gasped at the heat of Damian’s release, leaving a burning trail as it slid down his chest.

“Very good, pet. Stay there for a moment.” Damian went to the bathroom and wet a small towel, using it to mop himself off. He put himself back together and went back to Nick, wiping his body clean.

“Okay, baby, stand up,” he said, pulling Nick to his feet. Now that the excitement that carried him was spent, Nick staggered. His knees hurt, and he’d stiffened up while on the floor.

Damian led him to the desk and pushed him down so his chest was flat against the surface. Nick knew his arse was exposed to Damian’s view, and he trembled nervously. One hand on the small of his back held him in place.

“Nice and hot,” Damian observed, placing his hand on Nick’s flaming bottom. Suddenly Nick felt sure his face was equally red.

“There is much you need to learn about submission,” Damian said. He took his hand away and said, “Stay right where I put you, pet.”

Nick remained in position and relaxed.

“You like that, don’t you? When I give you an order?” Damian asked. He picked up a tube of cooling gel and squeezed some onto his hand. Nick jumped at the chill when Damian smoothed it over his arse.

“Yes, sir,” Nick admitted humbly.

“Do you know why?”

“Because you’re so hot?” came the naïve answer.

It startled Damian into laughter. “Well, that isn’t quite what I was thinking of, but thank you. You may stand up now.”

Nick stood and his hands went to his pants, but he looked at Damian questioningly.

“Go ahead, get dressed,” Damian encouraged him. “So was it what you hoped for?”

“I didn’t like the spanking while it was happening; it hurt,” Nick said. “But I liked how it felt afterwards. And I like when you tell me what to do.”

“Have a seat, if you like. Not that one,” Damian said, hastily moving the straight chair. “Preferably something more cushioned.”

Nick sat on the couch and bounced up again. “I think I’ll stand.”

“We need to talk, Nicholas,” Damian said. “If you got all you wanted and satisfied your curiosity, say so, and we’ll never speak of this again.” He waited but Nick slowly shook his head, while a satisfied smile spread over his face.

“I don’t think so,” Nick said. “I want more.”

“Then we need to have some rules. We’ll set them up together as we go along, and see how they work for us, okay?” Damian sat behind his desk. “I like to play. All those toys of Ashley’s out there, I’ve worn every one of them, used every one of them, had them used on me. I’ll want to take you deeper into this, and I hope you’ll start to want more when I show you different things.

“Right now, some of those implements scare you. We’ll be trying them all, and if you truly don’t enjoy something, we won’t do it again. Just because other people like something doesn’t mean you will. Understand?”

Nick nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“You can stop calling me sir. I only require that when we’re in a scene. Do you want to continue working for me?”

“Well, yeah, sir, Damian, I mean,” Nick answered in honest bewilderment. “I still have to work my way through school.”

“Very well. I won’t embarrass you in front of clients or the other models, but I’m probably going to surprise you; that’s a part of this. And I may require your submission in places and at times that you’re not expecting. If I push you too hard, your safe word is….”

“London,” Nick said promptly.

“Good. I think we’ll get along just fine,” Damian said, privately wondering where this was going to lead. “Now you’d better get off home. We have a full day of shooting tomorrow, and I have work to do yet.”

“Yes, sir,” Nick said submissively. “And thank you.”

“You’re very welcome,” Damian said kindly. He waited until he heard the outer door close and went to lock it. He turned off the light in his office so Nick wouldn’t see him if he looked up, and then he waited.

The younger man did look up, and Damian took a quick step backward, not wanting to be seen. Nick turned and started to jog to the tube station. Suddenly he gave an exuberant leap, jumping up to tap a hanging sign in triumph. Then his hands went to his rump, giving himself a comforting rub.

Damian laughed softly. Ashley’s little trick that afternoon had alerted him to the fact that he was going to have to be very careful. His own fierce possessiveness when the blond model had grabbed Nick and pulled him close told him that some part of him had already laid claim to Nick, probably right at the moment of that first swat he’d aimed at the boy to keep him still. Something had sparked a fire deep inside, when for so long Damian had remained resistant to arousal, and now he wanted to keep the young man by him always.

He sighed. It was unlikely that Nick could ever love an old fart like him, even though he was only in his early thirties; Nick was young, he had his whole life ahead of him. He was curious and wanted to experiment. Damian reminded himself to keep his heart under wraps; this could be a very nice liaison for a while, and then when Nick had learned all he needed to know about himself, he would move on and Damian would no doubt be in for another dry spell.

Driving home, Damian found himself wondering what Nick was studying and why he’d never asked before. He’d have to find out.

 

 

Chapter 5

 

 

NICK WAS exhausted emotionally and physically when he arrived at his flat. He brushed his teeth hastily and fell into bed, wincing as his arse made contact with the lumpy mattress. He turned onto his stomach.

For the first time in a week, he was deeply asleep in seconds, never waking until the alarm went off the next morning.

He balanced precariously on the edge of the tub, trying to see what his arse looked like in the medicine-cabinet mirror. Despite what Damian said, he was afraid that it would still be as red as a signpost and everyone would know. He wished that he’d thought to look at it the previous evening, but he’d just been so tired.

Damian was right: not a mark. His skin was the same shade as usual. Nick was almost disappointed when he took his cold shower. Experimentally he aimed his bath brush at his arse, giving himself a swat. “Ow!”

He’d forgotten that it hurt and didn’t do a thing for him to swat himself. “Why the fuck do I want to do this again?” he grumbled, and then he hoped desperately that he hadn’t left a mark on his own. He checked and relaxed when he found only a faintly pink area, knowing that it would fade by the time he got to work.

Hitting himself didn’t work at all. He thought it must be something connected to Damian. When his handsome boss gave an order, it sent a thrill throughout Nick’s body, and he hastened to obey. There was something unbelievably exciting about being on his knees in front of Damian. He would have to ask why it was.

 

 

ASHLEY WAS amused to see that some of Nick’s brashness was back, although he was no longer sullen. In fact, he seemed to be glowing with satisfaction, like a cat who’d gotten into the cream, and the dark circles under his eyes were gone. So he could only suspect that Damian must have made some kind of move on him last night.

Ashley looked forward to coaxing details out of Damian but first he hovered in the doorway of the makeup room, wanting to see Nick’s reaction to the decorations he had left on Markie’s arse last night before fucking him to their mutual satisfaction.

Gabe seemed to catch on to what Ashley was up to, and he turned the makeup chair Nick sat in to give him a good view when Markie dropped his pants. Nick paled when he saw the six evenly spaced stripes of a purplish hue.

Markie looked back over his shoulder and wiggled his arse. “Ask me if I got lucky last night?” he said provocatively.

“I don’t need to ask, you lucky dog,” Gabe said. “You look like a happy man.”

“I am.” Markie sighed, and he winced as he sat on a towel in the other chair.

Ashley walked away, laughing quietly to himself.

Damian was in the studio waiting for the models to be readied when Ashley came in still chuckling. “What did you do now, Ash?”

“Nothing at all. I just… er, watched when Markie dropped his drawers and gave Nick an eyeful,” he laughed.

“How many?” Damian asked with a wry smile.

“Six of the best. How many did you give Nick?” Ashley asked irrepressibly.

“If I had, I wouldn’t tell you, and if I hadn’t, I would lie,” Damian said.

“You are so frustrating,” Ashley complained. “I tell you about all my conquests, while you’ve bored me to tears these last five years. At last you get—”

“Shut it!” Damian ordered. Ashley swung around to see Nick come in, clutching a towel around his waist, following Markie, who was naked and strutting proudly, showing off his marked bottom to the shocked young man.

Ashley busied himself dressing Markie in a mask and ball gag. He led the blond to a spanking bench, securing his ankles and bending him over to cuff his hands to the front legs.

He found a pair of tight, low-cut leather pants and handed them to Nick. “Put those on, pet, will you?” His practiced eyes saw the little flinch Nick gave, and he smirked with satisfaction.

Damian called out, “You weren’t very even with your spacing, Ashley. One of the stripes is a little too close.”

His pride stung, Ashley turned around, sulking. “Markie jumped at the last minute. It wasn’t my fault.” He came to stand by Damian’s shoulder, behind the camera.

“I’m warning you, Ashley: no tricks,” Damian said with quiet menace.

Ashley shivered, remembering that Damian, for all he was a bit shorter, was by far still the more powerful, and he could force Ashley to submit if he made him angry.

“I didn’t do anything.”

“You called him pet. You don’t call boys ‘pet’; you were fishing. Stop it. I won’t have him scared or embarrassed,” Damian said firmly but quietly. “If you do that again, I won’t shoot your catalog.”

Ashley squirmed but he knew Damian was right, and he honestly liked Nick. He didn’t really want to humiliate or hurt him. Besides, all that could safely be left to Damian if he was already taking Nick in hand.

“Just tell me this: are you claiming him?” Ashley asked seriously.

Damian drew in a huge breath. “Yes,” he said, realizing he was committing himself.

“Good,” Ashley said. “I really don’t want to see him get hurt. Well, you know what I mean.”

“I know,” Damian said with a slight smile.

Ashley smiled in relief. “I won’t tease your boy, but you are fair game.”

“Just not when he’s around. Deal?”

“Deal.”

Nick emerged from the bathroom, the light reflecting off the tight leather pants creating a burnished gleam on his thighs as he walked. He looked at Damian. “Is this okay?”

“Very okay,” Damian answered, catching his breath. “Ever handle a cane before?”

“No, I’ve never touched one,” Nick said, stretching his hand out to touch it with anxious fascination.

“Look here, Nicholas, I need you to hold this cane and be standing here in the shot,” Ashley said. “I want it to look like you’ve just laid these stripes on Markie’s arse and you’re giving him a right hiding.”

Nick took the cane awkwardly, handling it as if it were a snake that might bite him.

“Nicholas!” Damian said. “You’re supposed to look as if you’re a Dom, so straighten up and think about the power you wield over this man who is bigger than you, but is bent over begging for you to punish him. It’s like acting. You don’t have to actually hit him. In fact, I’m quite sure that everyone here would vastly prefer that you didn’t. Just pretend he’s made you angry or betrayed you, and you’re quite justified in punishing him.”

“I’ll do my best.” Nick dragged in a deep breath and took up a commanding stance. When Ashley had showed him how to hold the cane, he said, “I’m ready.”

Damian snapped some shots, but he wasn’t satisfied. He was shooting digital, instead of Polaroids, trying to get his idea to work, but something wasn’t gelling. Ashley remained silent. He would have been satisfied with the first shot, but he respected Damian’s expertise. That’s why he collected Damian’s work: when it was right, it wasn’t merely a beautiful picture; the image sent a visceral charge through viewers, and that intensity was what Ashley was after for this catalog.

“This isn’t working,” Damian said. He was scowling at the monitor.

“Can I see it?” Nick said.

“Sure, knock yourself out,” Damian said in surprise. Nick rarely spoke up like that during a shoot and he wondered if their little encounter had made him feel a bit more sure of himself.

Nick walked to the monitor, and Damian growled softly as he noticed Markie watching the roll of his buttocks in the tight leather pants, although the young man was completely oblivious of both he and Ashley.

“So what do you think?” Damian asked when Nick had studied the image.

“Well, if you don’t mind my saying so….” Nick hesitated.

“I wouldn’t have asked if I did,” Damian said sardonically.

“I think it would be more effective if I weren’t in it, for a start. I’m wearing what he is, practically. I think you should use Ashley’s arm, dressed as he is, but only show his hand, holding the cane. And if you put a rim light there,” Nick pointed, “it would highlight Markie’s, um, ars—uh, backside, uh—”

“His ass. We get it. Go on,” Damian interrupted as Nick floundered around, flustered for a moment.

“It would provide separation from the shadows in the background,” Nick finished.

Damian studied the frame and turned to look at the set. “I’d have to cut a hole in the backdrop.”

“Not if you had a small slave,” Nick pointed out.

Ashley was looking back and forth between them as if at a tennis match, his mouth hanging open, but at that comment, he burst into laughter. “Would that small slave be you, Nicholas?”

Nick flushed angrily, but Damian ignored the interjection. “That’s exactly what this needs. Nick, you know where I keep the small lights?”

Nick nodded, already moving. He thrust the cane into Ashley’s hand as he passed him, causing the older man to laugh even harder.

“So now I’m to be a model as well?” he asked. “What shall I wear?”

Nick called back over his shoulder, “Just what you have on. Markie is naked, but your dark suit and white shirt will lend a contrast that should give it—”

“Erotic tension,” Damian finished for him. He dragged Ashley to the set. “If you stand just here, most of you will be out of frame. We’ll see only your arm. I’ll add a spot so that your hand, the cane, and the stripes on Markie’s ass are the focus of the shot, highlighting the product and the desired end result.”

Loving the pun, Ashley started laughing again, while allowing Damian to push him into position. “Fancy that. I’m going to be featured in my own catalog, after all these years!”

“Think of it as a cameo, like Hitchcock,” Damian suggested.

Nick carried the small light onto the set, carefully positioning it where Markie’s legs would hide it, making Damian consider the practicality of always having his assistant dressed that way while he worked.

“Get a C-stand, Nick,” Damian called out, uncoiling the cord on another small light with barn doors. Together they set up the spot and tested to make sure the slave light went off at the same time as the other lights.

Nick stood behind Damian as he verbally guided Ashley into the proper position. Damian was acutely aware of the younger man’s scent and warmth, but his attention was focused mostly on his shot. He clicked the shutter and the image came up briefly on the screen on the camera. In that split second, Damian saw that he’d captured what he’d envisioned.

“Okay, Ashley, stay right where you are. Nicholas, the other camera!”

Damian started shooting, directing Ashley’s arm to be angled several different ways before he let out a satisfied sigh. “Got it.”

Ashley let his arm down and sighed with relief. The way he’d had to stand, with his body out of the shot but leaning forward so that his arm was in the frame, had strained his back a bit. Suddenly he had a whole different slant on how painful it could be to model. “You all right, Markie?”

“Mmmph,” the blond said around the ball gag.

“I’ll take that to mean ‘I’d like to get up off this bench, if I could’,” Ashley said sympathetically. “Let me just check with Damian. Oi, Ian! Can I let Markie up?”

“Sure,” Damian said. “We’ll get set up for the next shot.” He turned to look at Nick, who was standing slightly behind him and to the right. “Can you stay after work for a bit?”

Nick nodded, his lips parted and stars in his eyes.

 

 

THE MODELS were gone, Gabe was packing up, and Ashley was speaking with Damian when Nick emerged from the bathroom, clad once again in his own clothes. He found some busy work to do, wanting to look occupied with something rather than slavering for Damian’s attention when Ashley went to leave.

Ashley kept going to the door and coming back to say one last thing to Damian, but finally he made it out the door, holding it open for Gabe to pass through.

“Everyone gone?” Damian asked.

“I’ll check.” Nick made a sweep of all the rooms and came back to report. “All clear.”

“Good. Lock the door. Go to my office and wait for me, pet.”

“Yes, sir,” Nick said quietly, but his heart started pounding and his breath came quicker with anticipation. He was standing in the middle of the room staring at the wooden chair when Damian came in and closed the door behind him. He was holding a black velvet bag, which he set on the desk.

“Are you mine, pet? Do you belong to me?”

Nick looked a little alarmed, but he ventured an answer. “Yes, sir?”

Damian chuckled. “You don’t sound very sure. Let me put it this way: do you want to do any of this with anyone else?”

“No, sir,” Nick breathed.

“Strip!”

Nick started panting at the command thrown at him in the husky voice. He pulled his clothing off hastily, as if this opportunity might never come again, throwing each item onto the couch behind him.

“Kneel.”

Nick dropped to his knees, automatically clasping his hands behind his back and lowering his eyes, although he wanted to watch Damian. The devilish smile when the older man had ordered him to strip was very arousing, and yet very frightening. Nick wasn’t sure whether it was the arousal or fear that got him going the most.

His cock slowly filled out, and he tingled with desire as he knelt. The fact that he was completely bare in front of Damian, who was fully clothed, sent a thrill to his groin and his stomach fluttered with anxiety.

“Look at me,” Damian said. He sat on the edge of his desk, swinging one foot. “What are you studying at school?”

“Um, art, sculpture,” Nick answered, surprised.

“What year are you in?”

“Senior. I graduate this summer,” Nick said, with a little shiver. He didn’t know exactly how things would go after that; he would need to keep this job, or at any rate, a job until he figured out how to sell his work. That was something they didn’t teach you at uni.

“I wondered. That lighting idea of yours today, that must have been your training in form, light, and shadow kicking in. The shadows were very sculptural with that extra light. I expect it’ll be a great shot.” Damian’s eyes raked over the boy kneeling naked in front of him. He had more questions, but he decided to inspect his new acquisition at the same time. Always multitask when you can, he thought.

He got up and slowly circled Nick. Beautiful skin, flawless really, smooth and warm and altogether delectable. Amazing ass, round, firm, pert; begging to be spanked. Every outline and angle, perfectly formed and elegantly refined. Nick’s hair was thick and shiny, and from here Damian could see that he barely needed to shave. His chest must be naturally hairless.

“Will you be coming in tomorrow?” Damian asked.

“I have school tomorrow. It’s one of my full days,” Nick responded.

“Sir,” Damian reminded him. He decided there and then that he would schedule most of the work with the female models for days when Nick wasn’t there. He’d already noticed the Bettie Paige lookalike giving his assistant the onceover.

“Sir.”

“Have you been keeping up with your homework?”

“Um, actually, I have an assignment due tomorrow, sir. A paper on Picasso,” Nick muttered.

“Then you should get to it,” Damian said briskly.

“You mean, we’re not going to….” Nick faltered.

“I’m not going to spank you, if that’s what you mean. But I am going to tell you exactly what you’re going to do because I know how you like it when I give you an order. Right, pet?”

“Yes, sir,” Nick said breathlessly.

“Stand up. Hands clasped behind your head.”

Nick rocked his weight back and rose smoothly.

Damian looked at him in surprise. “Very nice. Did you practice that?”

“Um, yes,” Nick blushed, shuffling from foot to foot in embarrassment. “I thought you might not like it if I staggered around when I got up.”

“Initiative. I like a little of that in a sub. Just not too much. Head up. Close your eyes.”

Nick jumped as he felt Damian’s hands stroke the length of his thighs. He shuddered as he felt warm breath on his cock, wondering if Damian was kneeling in front of him! And then Damian’s hands, handling him, fastening something onto him. Nick’s cock was hardening until he felt a tug on his balls; it was uncomfortable but not really painful, although it had the effect of making his erection wilt.

Damian’s hands gave him one last pat and he said, “Open your eyes, pet.”

Nick did so, staring at Damian for a moment before dropping his head to look down at himself. His cock was barely visible for all the black leather and silver buckles strapped around him and he felt a stirring at his groin. A moment later he groaned as his hardening member was constricted by the leather.

“It’s a cock cage,” Damian announced with satisfaction. “You’re not to come until I permit you, pet. This will keep your mind on your studies and off your dick.” He lifted Nick’s trussed penis and stroked his balls, allowing Nick to see that there was a strap dividing and surrounding them as well.

Damian’s breath was hot in Nick’s ear. “Remember how you enjoy it when I give you an order?”

“Yes, sir,” Nick gasped.

“And that you have agreed to submit yourself to me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Go do your homework. I’ll see you Friday.” Damian turned and sat behind his desk, swinging his feet up onto it. “Scene over. You may go.”

“Sir!” Nick exclaimed, outraged. “I have to wear this until then?”

“I believe I warned you that you weren’t always going to like everything I require of you, or didn’t I?” Damian asked mildly. He was enjoying the sight of his young assistant, indignantly taking him to task, having completely forgotten he was standing there naked, with his hands behind his head.

“No, you didn’t,” Nick gritted between clenched teeth.

“Well, that’s the deal. I might tell you to bend over or I might tell you to wash the dishes,” Damian smirked.

Nick dropped his hands and turned to pick up his clothing, while Damian ogled his round buttocks. “What if this thing causes major significant damage?” Nick groused as he dressed.

He straightened up and squeaked in alarm as Damian swung his feet off the desk and lunged at him. The man was unbelievably fast and Nick didn’t have time to react before Damian’s forearm pinned him against the wall.

“I would never do anything to harm you permanently, Nicholas,” Damian said, his eyes intense and commanding. “I didn’t even lock it. If it causes you pain, you may phone me and I may, may, allow you to take it off. If you can’t reach me and you’re in dire straits, you take it off yourself and explain it to me later. You have a brain; use it. What I expect from you, however, is that you will control yourself. I’m trying to make that order easier for you. You will not come until I allow it. Understood?”

“Y—yes, sir,” Nick squeaked. He could barely breathe with Damian’s arm across his chest and yet the sensation of being pinned, not being able to free himself, was unbearably erotic. He could feel his cock pushing at the cage, but the constriction kept him from getting hard.

“Fine.” Damian dipped his head to take Nick’s mouth for the first time and thrilled to feel the boy submit eagerly to him before he released him. Nick’s eyes were dazed and his lips swollen and wet, parted as he tried to catch his breath.

“Go home and do your homework. Attend your classes and pay attention. Those are my orders. Go!” Damian stepped back, watching the boy’s hands search blindly for the wall to steady himself.

“Yes, sir,” Nick muttered and ran for it.

Damian heard the outer door close quietly and sat at his desk for a quiet laugh. Only one week and Nick’s manners had improved immeasurably already.

 

 

THAT EVENING was torture for Nick. He kept starting to get hard whenever he thought of kneeling naked in front of Damian while the other man inspected him. The sensation of firm hands stroking his thighs lingered but each time he had an erotic thought, the discomfort to his dick had the effect of refocusing his mind.

Finally, he gave up thinking about Damian at all and applied himself to his homework. He was surprised at how quickly his paper was written. He proofread it, but he’d made remarkably few errors. He printed it out and put it in a report holder.

The moment he was finished, thoughts of Damian’s hands on his cock came surging back. “Ow, fuck, ow,” he complained out loud.

He decided to go to bed early, hoping his usual dreams weren’t going to make the night a misery. In fact, he did have to get up several times to piss, but that seemed to relieve the pressure a bit and he was able to get back to sleep.

Why do I want to do this again? he wondered, but the thrill of not knowing what Damian would do next was too alluring to resist.

Once at school, he found it easier to concentrate in his lectures, but trips to the restroom made him nervous. Obviously he couldn’t use a urinal out in the open with that device strapped to his dick, so he had to use a stall.

The cage made him conscious of his penis all the time, the way it felt when his trousers brushed over it while walking frustrated him. He couldn’t remember speaking to anyone at school; his thoughts were firmly fixed on the symbol of his submission to Damian and his own cock.

By the time he arrived home, Nick was so tired, he didn’t even eat; he simply went to bed.

 

 

FRIDAY MORNING, Nick was waiting for Damian outside the locked door, fuming and pacing.

“Take this fucking thing off me!” he demanded.

“Good morning to you too, Nick,” Damian said mildly. He unlocked the door without haste and went to his office, Nick dogging his every footstep.

“Did you—?”

“I didn’t touch it or myself. Take it off right now!” Nick said angrily.

Damian sat down and motioned Nick closer. “We’re going to have to have a talk about topping from the bottom. I don’t allow that, pet.”

“Yes, sir,” Nick gritted, without knowing what Damian was talking about. He sighed with relief as Damian unbuckled him and rubbed at his limp organ.

Damian inspected him; a few reddened areas, but no damage. “If it bothered you that much, why didn’t you just take it off?”

“You said not to,” Nick said, as if that was self-evident.

Damian nodded. “I’m very proud of you. You did well.”

Nick’s lips curved in a tremulous smile. “Thank you, sir.”

“Go make me a coffee,” Damian said, and gave him a little swat.

Nick’s eyes darkened with desire but he turned obediently and made for the door.

 

 

ASHLEY ARRIVED with a young man in tow, with tufty dark hair and amazing green eyes. His voice was noticeably colder as he ordered, “Make yourself useful, Derek.”

“Sure,” the young man said agreeably, although his gaze was resentful. “How’s it hanging, Damian?” he asked the photographer with a familiarity that stunned Nick and also made him jealous.

Then Derek came up to Nick and asked, “Are you one of the models?”

“No, I’m just the assistant, but they asked me to model a couple of things for this catalog,” Nick answered modestly, wondering if he would ever be able to talk to Damian with such familiarity. “My name is Nick Sayers.”

“Oh, the assistant. You have my old job. I’m Derek Stearns. Boy, you wouldn’t catch me dead wearing any of that gear,” Derek declared, glancing over his shoulder to see if Ashley was within earshot. “Eyeball those chicks. Man, they’re tough.”

“You fancy the birds then?”

“Not really. I’m more of a man’s man, if you get my drift.”

“You’re an American, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. Came over to get some life experiences before I buckle down to real work. I’ve traveled all over Europe; it’s a real lark over here. Hey, doesn’t this stuff of Ashley’s give you the willies?” Derek asked curiously.

“No, not at all,” Nick lied boldly.

“Well, better you than me then,” Derek shrugged. “Want me to do that?”

“No, I know how Damian likes his coffee, but you could go downstairs to get the pastries, and Ashley usually takes a latté,” Nick suggested.

“Yeah, I know. Okay, where do I go and how many do I get of what?” Derek asked.

Nick told him and handed over some money. After Derek left, Ashley came into the kitchen and said, “I hope you don’t mind wearing something a little unusual today, Nick. I had it made just for you. I’m starting a new line, and I think it’ll be a hit.”

Damian strolled in and said, “I think perhaps you should have consulted me first on that, Ashley.”

Ashley nodded vigorously. “You’re right, but I was sure you’d agree. I had this one made especially for Nicholas, in his color.”

He led the other two men to a carton he’d dumped in the studio. He took out a red leather box, opening it reverently.

Nick peered in to see a supple red leather collar. It didn’t look like a dog collar, as most of them did. This one was designed to lie flat at the base of the neck.

Ashley was speaking to Damian. “I find that a collar is mostly a symbolic accessory; depending on one’s tastes, it doesn’t need to withstand much force, such as a dog tugging at his leash. I thought for the discriminating master, one who wishes to enhance the beauty of their sub, rather than yank him around, this would be eminently desirable.”

Ashley lifted the collar out of the box. “Nicholas, turn around, please.”

He buckled the collar onto the boy, smoothing it into place. The front of the collar formed a “V” that nestled in the little hollow at the base of Nick’s throat.

Nick reached up to touch the soft leather with one slender finger, his eyes fixed on Damian’s.

Ashley smiled with delight. “You look lovely in that, Nick. Look at yourself.” He drew the younger man into the makeup room to look in the mirror. It took Nick’s breath away to see how he looked with the deep red of the collar next to his glowing skin.

“Nicholas, follow me,” Damian commanded tersely.

Apprehensively, Nick followed Damian to his office and stood, shifting from one foot to the other.

Damian said sternly, “You’ve not earned that collar, not from me. You may wear it for the shot, but it’s not yours, understand?” He unbuckled the collar and took it off, laying it carefully on his desk.

“Of course,” Nick burst out, not taking Damian’s meaning at all. “None of this stuff is mine. I wouldn’t steal anything!”

Damian laughed, his nerves a bit unsettled by the sight of his beautiful boy with the collar that he longed to make permanent. “I’m glad you realize that but I didn’t really think you would steal it.” In order to divert Nick from his own overreaction to the symbolic scrap of leather, he continued. “I like to see my sub in jewelry, and you don’t wear any. So let’s try these on for size. Unbutton your shirt.”

Nick’s fingers flew to undo his buttons, pulling the turquoise striped shirt open. Damian walked over to him and pointed to the floor. Nick dropped to his knees uneasily, aware that although the office door was closed it was unlocked.

“Close your eyes, pet.”

Nick did so and gasped as warm fingertips circled his nipples. He trembled as he felt the delicate caress make his nipples harden.

“Very responsive, my pet,” Damian crooned softly. He pulled gently at the dark nubs held between thumb and forefinger, watching Nick’s head fall back and his mouth open.

Nick suppressed a squeak as Damian began to pinch and twist his nipples, the little frisson of pain skittering along on the edge of his nerves, making his cock stand up and take notice. Blood rushed to his nipples and his groin, setting him awash in a sea of pleasure.

Damian tugged firmly on the dark peaks, deciding that they were as hard as they were going to get. He was extremely tempted to kneel in front of Nick and take them in his mouth, to see if they tasted as sweet as they looked, but he had a different plan.

Nick shook as Damian’s hands left him and he swayed forward, as if searching for the sensuous touch that kept him so on edge. Then he yelped quietly when he felt one nipple pulled and captured in something cold that pinched. He almost opened his eyes, but remembered in time that he was to obey Damian. The older man hadn’t said that he might open his eyes, and he didn’t want to get a spanking with everyone just outside the door where they could hear.

A pinch at his other nipple, and Nick felt something cool brush his ribs.

“Open your eyes, pet,” Damian said, sounding extremely pleased with himself.

Nick did so and looked down to see two small silver clamps glittering on his chest, with the chain that linked them swinging slightly between his nipples, brushing against his torso. “What is it, sir?”

“Nipple clamps,” Damian said with a wicked grin. “We’re shooting them today. I didn’t think you’d want Ashley or Gabe to put them on you.”

Nick shuddered in horror. “No, I wouldn’t. Thank you, sir.”

“That’s a good pet. You must remember to thank me for whatever I give you: pain, pleasure, or both,” Damian said, holding Nick’s chin, caressing his jaw with his long, slender fingers. “How does it feel?”

“Pinched just at first. Now it’s kind of numb,” Nick answered after a moment.

“It will hurt a great deal more when they come off, understand?” Damian said. He was pleased with the look of apprehension that sprang into Nick’s eyes. “But you will be able to bear it. In fact, I’m sure you’ll enjoy what I have planned for you. Now put your shirt back on. It’ll be a while before we get to this shot.”

Nick buttoned his shirt and remained on his knees, waiting for Damian to release him.

“You may go, pet. Scene over.”

“Thank you, sir,” Nick said, and got to his feet.

 

 

Chapter 6

 

 

NICK WENT to the makeup chair, refusing to take his shirt off. “Damian’s orders,” he explained to Gabe, who smiled knowingly and proceeded to powder the shine off the young man’s face.

“Well, we mustn’t disobey him, must we?” Gabe teased.

“He’s the photographer,” Nick said, hoping not to betray his uneasiness.

By the time Damian was ready for him, only he and two blond males were still in the studio, with Nick to be sandwiched between them. The other two men wore only leather pants, and Nick couldn’t drag his fascinated gaze from their nipples. They wore clamps like his, and he wondered if their nipples were throbbing like his, keeping time to his pulse.

He was given black leather pants to wear and came out to the set barefoot with his shirt hanging over them, thankful that Ashley had ordered the female models to bugger off. They’d wanted to stay and watch, but Ashley had teasingly claimed that they were trying to hold him up for a higher fee.

Damian positioned the three men in the set, with a blond model standing to either side of Nick. He adjusted the lighting, so that the lower half of their bodies fell into shadow, with just a tantalizing hint of shine reflecting off the leather.

He caught Nick’s gaze, and in a measured tone commanded, “Take off your shirt, Nicholas.”

It was his Dom voice, and Nick shivered with the illicit thrill of obeying his orders in front of other people who didn’t know. “Yes, sir,” he said huskily. He took off his shirt, expecting gasps of surprise, but the other two models were completely blasé about the clamps on his chest.

“All right, Markie, I want you to grab Nick’s hair and pull his head back, so that only the lower half of his face is in the light. Right, like that. And you, Craig, grab Nick’s wrist and hold it right about there.”

Damian guided the other model to hold Nick’s arm back and slightly away from his body. “Now Markie, when I tell you, reach over and take the right clamp off. Let your hand leave the shot very slowly. I’m shooting film with a motor drive in tandem with the digital so that I can catch the exact moment I’m after. Understand?”

All three nodded their understanding. Nick felt Markie’s fingers thread through his hair, getting a firm grip.

Damian looked through the viewfinder. “Craig, can you hang onto Nick’s other hand as well, so he looks trapped?”

“Sure thing,” the blond called out cheerfully.

Nick did feel trapped, and so did his cock as it started to grow under the tight leather. He couldn’t see beyond the lights, but he knew that Damian and Ashley were looking directly at him, and he bit his lower lip nervously.

“Don’t you dare bite your lip, Nicholas!”

Nick released his lip and licked it nervously.

“Good, and action,” Damian directed.

Nick’s body jerked when Markie’s hand landed on his stomach, sweeping smoothly up his torso until his fingers found the clamp. His head was pulled back, and he swallowed hard. Then Markie released the clamp and the combination of a rush of pain along with the knowledge that Damian was watching flooded Nick’s senses. He cried out as the explosion of blood returning to his nipple sent shockwaves throughout his body, and his cock got hard enough that he was afraid he might come right there, in front of everyone.

Damian stopped shooting when Nick was sagging limply in Markie’s arms.

Ashley exclaimed, “That was brilliant! Fucking brilliant!”

“Let’s see if I caught what I wanted. Otherwise we have to do it all over again,” Damian said wryly.

The blond models released Nick, Markie patting him on the back as he staggered. “First time with those?”

“Yeah,” Nick admitted, although he had the impulse to lie and imply that this was nothing new for him.

“Don’t worry; you’ll soon be a pro like me,” Markie assured him before swaggering off to stand beside Ashley to look at the monitor.

That only made Nick writhe even more; was everybody in on what was happening to him? What made them think he wasn’t merely modeling this shit?

Nick walked over to stand behind Damian, feeling incredibly self-conscious as the chain swung from the clamp still attached to his other nipple, bumping the loose one against his body as he walked. He wanted to remove the remaining clamp, but he was afraid of yelping again in front of everyone.

He watched the monitor as Damian set up the series of digital shots to flip through automatically like a little movie. When Markie pulled his head back, Nick saw how the light fell mainly on his neck and chest, leaving his face in shadow.

Damian stopped the slide show at the exact image he’d been trying to capture. “That’s it. That’s what I wanted.”

“Brilliant,” Ashley breathed in an aroused voice.

Nick stared at himself, every muscle standing out in sharp relief under smooth skin as his body arched and strained against the hands that imprisoned him. His mouth was open, contorted in pain and pleasure. His hands were in shadow, but you could see just enough detail to know that he was being restrained.

Markie’s hand cast a dark shadow over his chest while a pinpoint of light danced on the metal of the clamp.

“It’s that moment, that exact moment when the sub knows who controls his body,” Ashley gloated. “This is going to be the best catalog ever!” Gleefully, he slapped Markie’s arse in congratulation, and the blond jumped and yelped, his stripes throbbing anew under the assault. Then Ashley grabbed Nick and hugged him. Nick squeaked as his clamped nipple was crushed to Ashley’s chest.

“Sorry, lad,” Ashley said, with a grin and an evil twinkle in his eye. “Forgot about that.”

Nick noticed that Derek was gazing at him with awed respect, but he turned pleading eyes to Damian. How the fuck was he going to get this other one off? He couldn’t do it in front of everyone, especially after they had all seen his reaction, captured forever on film.

Damian came to the rescue. “Come with me, Nick.”

Nick heard a couple of snickers behind his back, but he was too desperate to get the damn thing taken off to care whether they were laughing at him. He hurried after Damian, praying that the older man wasn’t going to send him home with this new torture device still affixed to him.

Damian led them to his office and closed the door. “Come here, Nick,” he said kindly.

He turned Nick around and backed the boy up against his chest, clamping him with one arm around his waist, pinning both his arms to his side. “You know this will hurt.”

Nick nodded. He arched and yipped when Damian released the second clamp, grateful for the other man’s warmth against his back. Damian tossed the clamps onto his desk with a clatter and soothingly massaged both reddened nubs.

Nick relaxed against him, feeling a solid warmth nudging his buttocks. Had Damian been turned on by watching? His own cock was pulsing in time to the throb in his nipples, and he was beginning to enjoy the sensation of Damian’s fingers rubbing him.

A husky whisper assured him. “We’ll play later, babe. Have to get back to work now.”

With one last caress, Damian pushed Nick gently away from him, chuckling quietly at the lust-glazed look on his face. “Pull yourself together and come out when you’re ready. We have one more shot for today.”

He bent to swipe at one reddened nipple with his tongue before he walked out, and Nick’s hand went right to his cock, rubbing himself through the leather trousers.

The door opened, and he jumped, snatching his hand away, fearful of being caught.

“Don’t come until I permit you,” Damian ordered, and he vanished.

 

 

THE STUDIO was quiet at last. Nick sat at the table in the kitchen, feeling a bit limp. He’d worn the cage for more than twenty-four hours, which had kept him from having an erection, only to be followed by a day of heightened arousal and dread, where he’d been kept hard more or less continuously.

He was hungry. He was tired. And he was horny as fuck.

Damian came out of the office, glancing at his assistant. “You look tired. Do you want to go home?”

“What are my choices?” Nick asked. “If I go home can I jerk off?”

Damian laughed. “If you like. Or I could do it for you.”

Nick sat up, looking a bit more alert. “Would you?”

“Not right off the bat,” Damian teased. “I’m hungry. Feel like Indian takeout?”

“Yeah,” Nick agreed eagerly. “Want me to go round and collect it?”

“No, we’ll have them deliver. I’d like to talk to you anyway.” Damian turned and walked into his office. After a moment, he stuck his head out. “Well?”

“You didn’t say to follow you,” Nick pointed out, hurrying to join his boss.

Damian rolled his eyes. “Unless I call a scene, you can just act regular, Nick.” He shuffled the menus in the drawer and pulled one out, picking up the phone to place his order. Then he leaned back, stretching both arms over his head. “What’s bothering you?”

“You’re—you’re my boss,” Nick said uneasily, “And also, my… my… what are you?”

Damian smiled compassionately. “I see your problem. We’ve switched gears a little too fast. But I didn’t want to just lay down a set of rules all at once. However, we’ll have a few now. First of all, as your boss, I can ask you to go for coffee or takeaway, and that’s reasonable. I can’t tell you what to do with your body; that would be illegal. I won’t force you into anything or to have sex with me. You’re of age and you have the right to leave at any time, if you wish. You’re also working for me as a model for a sex toy catalog. In that capacity I can direct you to strike a pose, but you still have the right to refuse to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.”

“It was a little close out there today,” Nick muttered.

“I know. I shouldn’t have done that to you, and I apologize. From now on, I’ll let you experience whatever it is and let you make the call on whether you’re willing to do it on film.”

“You’re sorry?” Nick breathed, his eyes wide.

“Yeah. What?” Damian asked, bewildered.

“Are you supposed to say you’re sorry when you’re a… a… master?”

“I prefer Top, and certainly I’m supposed to if I’ve done something wrong.” Damian laughed at the ludicrous look of surprise on Nick’s face. “Look, remember the other day when you suggested the slave and Ashley’s arm when Markie was over the bench?”

“Yeah.”

“We were working together then, creating a shot that was not only beautiful, but it showed the products off while evoking a specific mood. It did the job it was supposed to do. It was both of us collaborating to create one special image.”

“You’re saying we’re in this together,” Nick said slowly.

“Exactly. You want to get spanked, I like to spank. Without you, I have no cute little ass wriggling around on my lap. We’re making a deal here. I want you to get what you’re looking for, and I certainly wouldn’t do it to you if I didn’t like it.”

“You like spanking me?”

Damian almost laughed again at the amazed expression on Nick’s face. “I like it very much, Nick, and I hope you do too. I was hoping that you might wish to stay late tonight so that I could show you something else.”

Feeling suddenly energized again, Nick said, “Yes, sir!”

 

 

AFTER A companionable dinner, where Damian talked over his ideas for Ashley’s catalog, Nick washed up while Damian dried and put away. Nick wondered why he’d always found Damian so stern and unapproachable, while Damian was surprised by his young assistant’s creativity and sense of fun. It wasn’t often in Damian’s experience that a young man so beautiful was also willing to be silly.

“Go into the office. Wait for me there, pet.”

Nick no longer needed Damian to call him pet to tell when their relationship shifted; the slow commanding drawl was enough to alert him to the change. He went to the office and then worried about whether he should kneel or stand or just what he should be doing. He was frowning when Damian came in, making the other man’s lips twitch.

“What’s wrong, pet?”

“Am I supposed to be kneeling or what?”

“Does it calm you when you know what to expect from me?”

“Sir, I want to please you,” Nick said simply.

Damian was surprised at how much that touched him. “If you wish to please me….”

“Yes, sir?”

“Take everything off.”

Damian watched as Nick stripped with shaking fingers. He appreciated every movement; the boy was unusually graceful in the awkward moments, getting his trousers off without hopping or tangling himself in the legs. At last he stood, submissive in front of Damian, completely exposed.

Damian stroked the aureole of one nipple and caught the shuddering breath. “Are they sore?”

“Not really, sir, just… a little… tingly.”

“Did you like it when I had you tied to that bar, restrained for my pleasure?”

Nick gulped and managed to answer, “Yes, sir.”

“I liked it too, and yet, if I wished to restrain you just with my voice, would you obey?”

Nick nodded, mesmerized by the deep blue eyes.

Damian circled behind Nick, noticing the slight stiffening of his spine. He turned off the overhead light, so that the room was lit only by the desk lamp, casting a warm glow over the naked boy. He pulled the leather couch slightly away from the wall and picked up a blindfold. He said, “Turn to face me.”

Nick did so, his breath coming quicker. Damian could see the thump of his heart fluttering the golden skin of his chest.

“I’m going to blindfold you. And then I’m going to touch you however I wish. You are mine until I release you. Are you mine?”

Nick nodded slowly.

Damian blindfolded Nick, making sure that the young man couldn’t peek. He took him by the arm and led him to the couch. “Kneel on the couch for me, pet. Hands on the back.” He guided Nick to kneel on the cushion, pushing him to bend over so that his hands were resting on the back.

Slowly Damian ran his hand down the length of Nick’s spine, noticing the slight shudder as he neared the swell of the boy’s ass. He positioned himself so that his left hand rested on Nick’s back, leaving his right free to roam.

Nick wondered what Damian would do next. He had said he would touch him however and wherever he wished, and there were parts of Nick that no one had ever touched. He felt vulnerable and uncertain, and his blood was pounding with the thrill of it all.

He felt calloused fingertips pinch a nipple and his cock surged in response. It made him think of the clamps Damian had used on him earlier.

He felt something tickle his ear and Damian said, “Don’t come until I permit it.”

“Yes, sir,” Nick said hoarsely.

He felt a palm cupping his arse, rubbing slowly over the curve, and then a slap. It stung and heat rushed to the site, but it didn’t really hurt. Nick had to control himself when he pictured how this must look, him kneeling with his naked bum hanging out, accessible to the other man’s explorations while Damian was completely dressed, touching him as he pleased.

He jumped when he felt teeth nibbling at the nape of his neck. Damian’s hand left his back, leaving Nick disoriented and alone in the dark. The next touch was to the inside of his thigh, nails lightly scratching up from his knee to just next to his balls. He shivered and moved his legs together.

“Shall I get the spreaders?” Damian observed the flush that spread over Nick’s backside in response to his words. Slowly he pried the boy’s legs apart and held them. “Perhaps I will. I like how you look in them, helpless and vulnerable.”

Nick listened to his footsteps fade and return. This time he was prepared for the chill of the ankle cuffs as Damian locked his feet to the bar.

“Try it, pet. You will not be able to close your legs. The bar is keeping you spread open for me.”

Nick shifted but he couldn’t close his legs. He was very aware of the cool rush of air on his balls, swinging slightly with his movements.

“Keep those hands right where they are. I would prefer not to restrain you fully. Why will you leave your hands there?”

“Because you told me to, sir,” Nick answered.

“Very good,” Damian said. Nick’s body was incredibly beautiful bent over compliantly, glowing in the dim light with a light sheen of sweat.

He ran a hand down the back of one thigh and then threaded his fingers through Nick’s curls, pulling his head back as Markie had done earlier. He saw the tendons stand out in the boy’s neck as he held him in place. Finally Damian bent to claim the beautiful mouth, biting the lower lip gently before driving his tongue inside. He explored the sweet mouth thoroughly, mapping the teeth and lips, meeting Nick’s tongue and conquering it, establishing his dominance. Finally he released the boy’s lips, and took the tiny moan of desire as his tribute.

He let Nick go and the curly head dropped forward to rest on the back of the couch while the young man panted softly, trying to recover his breath.

Nick arched up and howled when he felt warm lips close around one of his nipples. Teeth tugged on the delicate flesh while Damian’s tongue moved rapidly, stimulating the nipple to a sharp peak. He had taken care not to touch Nick in any other way, so that when he released him, the young man was disoriented, not knowing where to expect the next touch.

Damian stood up to prowl around the beautiful boy again, aiming four swift smacks at the defenseless ass. He was delighted to see Nick raise his bottom to meet each slap after the first one.

“Arch your back. Lift up your ass to me, pet,” Damian whispered, his quiet voice a contrast to the crisp blows.

Nick did so and felt Damian’s hands slide along the curve of his ribs, spanning his waist.

“So slender and beautiful. I could break you. But I won’t. I’d rather keep you for a while,” Damian mused. “Am I making you hard?”

“God, yes, sir,” Nick groaned. His neglected cock was standing up to his belly and his balls were quivering with sensory overload. Both of Damian’s hands were sliding over his skin, sending little electrical jolts of pleasure through him. He hadn’t realized that every part of him was an erogenous zone, but the tender caresses, sharp pinches, sudden smacks, and the occasional warm softness of Damian’s lips or tongue had him completely aroused, and yet the man hadn’t even touched his cock or balls yet.

Damian nipped at the back of Nick’s arm and felt the muscle tremble, as if it could no longer hold the boy in position.

He slid his hand over the curve of Nick’s buttock and asked, “Shall I spank you? Perhaps I shall, just because I can. Just because I want to. I like to see you jump and wiggle and squirm when I’m making your bottom smart. I’m going to spank you so hard you won’t sit down tomorrow. Is that what you’d like?”

“If it would please you, sir,” Nick whispered. His heart was pounding. He remembered that it hurt, but his cock was aching now, throbbing with the desire to feel Damian’s hand on his heated flesh. He wanted this badly.

And then the hand met his arse with a resounding snap, and it stung and smarted, but Nick wanted more. He raised his arse up to meet the next smack and felt the warmth blossom over his backside. Damian gave him a brisk spanking, covering every inch of his bottom until he was on fire, gasping with the heat of it.

And then the hand was stroking him again, caressing him, soothing him, taking the sting away although the warmth lingered.

“You look so beautiful like that, red and hot, bent over for me to do as I please.” Damian watched the responsive quiver run through Nick’s body. “I’m going to cool you off just a bit now, Nick. Stay right there.”

He stepped to his desk and opened a drawer, finding a tube of lubricant that he’d purchased that week in the spirit of hope. He squeezed some onto his hands and smoothed it over both red cheeks. “You’re glowing, pet. I like to see you like that. One day, I’ll take pictures of what I do to you, so you can see how alluring you are when you’ve just had a spanking.”

Nick felt the sting diminish as Damian’s hands soothed whatever it was he was using over his cheeks. He squeaked when Damian’s hands swept between his thighs, smoothing the lube on them, the backs of the photographer’s hands brushing his balls.

The hands swept up again and Damian’s fingers dipped closer to his cleft with each pass. Feeling uncomfortable at the nearness of the hands to his most secret spot, Nick tried to squeeze his legs together, forgetting that his ankles were trapped in the spreader.

Damian laughed at Nick’s futile attempt to protect himself. “You are at my mercy, Nicholas. I’m going to touch you precisely where I wish to, and there is nothing you can do to prevent me.”

Nick gasped and threw back his head as Damian slid a finger along the valley between his buttocks, passing over his arsehole. “Don’t, please… don’t… touch me there…,” he begged, although it felt incredibly hot.

Damian’s other hand found his rigid shaft and stroked it gently. “Your mind says no, but your body is saying yes, Nicholas. And I will touch you wherever I like.”

“Please… don’t…,” Nick pleaded.

“But you forget: you belong to me, and I will touch my property as I choose. Every part of you is beautiful, pet. Tell me the truth. Do you like it when I touch you here?” Damian asked, massaging the puckered skin of Nick’s entrance.

Nick remembered that he had to tell the truth. He felt that this was very gay, but it felt so sinfully good. “I do… I like it…,” he admitted.

Damian saw the tension drain from Nick’s body as he expressed his desires. “Then I shall show you how much pleasure I can give you. You look so beautiful, pet, kneeling there open for me with your backside reddened by my hand, eager for me to explore you.”

Nick arched his back, raising his arse into Damian’s hand. The finger that had been rubbing his hole was now pressing against it. He gasped and moaned as Damian pushed it slowly inside him.

“It burns…,” he moaned.

“It will get better, my pet. You’ll see,” Damian promised, his voice husky. “You’re doing this to please me, remember?”

“Yes….”

Damian penetrated Nick more deeply, sliding his finger in and out gently, gaining ground with every thrust.

Nick jumped when Damian’s finger slid over something buried deep inside him that sent the most amazing sensation straight to his cock. He was panting he was so hot. Damian’s finger was moving more easily inside him and he moaned with the loss when it was removed.

One hand patted his back. “You liked that.”

Two fingers entered him, and Nick pushed back, even as he moaned in pain, wanting that feeling of fullness even though the stretch of the tight ring of muscle hurt. But he wanted that feeling deep inside enough that he was willing to ride out the sharp cramping to earn that pleasure.

Damian fingered Nick’s hole gently, thrusting inside and twisting occasionally. The boy was like an inferno inside, blazing hot and so silky smooth. He wanted nothing more than to bury his cock deep inside and stake his claim by leaving his seed, marking the young man as his.

But he knew he needed to take this slowly; he wouldn’t fuck Nick tonight. Soon, but not tonight. Instead he reached for Nick’s hard length, wrapping his slick fingers around it.

Nick groaned with the intensity of the pleasure; he thrust into the hand surrounding him and each time he rocked back, he drove Damian’s fingers even deeper inside himself. It felt almost as if Damian was stroking his cock both from the outside and the inside. He’d never felt such pleasure and his ecstasy spiraled upward as he rocked faster.

Damian bent over and whispered in Nick’s ear, “Come. Now!”

With a hoarse shout, Nick drove into Damian’s hand, shooting over the leather couch in long spurts, his body trembling with the effort. His orgasm roared in his ears and he collapsed forward, hanging limply over the back of the couch.

Damian smiled and withdrew his fingers. He left Nick kneeling and went to wash his hands and get a damp washcloth, wiping Nick clean. He removed the blindfold, and the young man opened his eyes and smiled blearily at Damian. “Thank you, sir. That was….”

“I’m glad you liked it, even though you thought you weren’t going to,” Damian teased.

“What about you, sir? What can I do to give you pleasure?” Nick asked anxiously.

Damian was delighted that Nick was already offering to serve him. He hauled Nick to his feet, mindful of the limited range of motion with the spreader bar and set him on his knees on the carpet.

He stood in front of the naked young man. “Take out my cock.”

With trembling fingers, Nick opened Damian’s jeans and pulled them down a bit, not wanting to rub him against the teeth of the zipper. He found that Damian also wore boxers. He looked up for permission and Damian nodded.

Nick pulled Damian’s cock out the slit and gasped. He’d forgotten that Damian’s cock was so big. He noticed it was dripping and without stopping to think, he leaned forward and tasted the drop with his tongue. It was salty and bitter, with an underlying sweetness. He wasn’t sure he liked it.

“Use your hands. Bring me off,” Damian ordered.

Nick licked his hands and eagerly explored the hard manhood he held. Tentatively, he flattened the swollen vein that ran underneath and looked up as Damian gasped. Emboldened by his success and feeling empowered that he was able to give pleasure to the older man, Nick increased the pressure of his hands, wondering if he dared touch Damian’s balls without direct permission.

He realized that kneeling in his position, he couldn’t get enough leverage; the angle was wrong. He leaned forward and tentatively licked the head of Damian’s cock.

Damian’s hips jerked forward as he felt the warm, wet swipe of the boy’s tongue. He watched as Nick stared at his hard length with fascination.

Then Nick closed his eyes and inhaled, the lush lashes fanned over his cheeks. Damian smelled of arousal and musk. He leaned closer and rubbed his cheek against the proud flesh in his hands, relishing the sensation of Damian’s hard flesh against his face. He opened his mouth, sucking the head inside, swirling his tongue slowly around the ridge, learning the feel of it.

Damian almost came right there, watching Nick take his cock in his mouth. He never would have thought the boy was ready for this, so he would not have demanded it, but the blazing wet heat and soft lips were so enticing, he couldn’t bear to push Nick away, in spite of the fact that he was not following Damian’s actual orders.

Nick tried to take the entire length into his mouth and ended up gagging when the tip hit the back of his throat. He felt Damian’s fingers slide soothingly through his hair, tugging the curls gently.

“Take it easy. You don’t have to deep throat your first time, pet. Relax, slow down. Taste me; discover what it feels like to have a hard cock in your mouth.”

His own cock twitched and started to fill again. Nick wondered if he would ever manage to be in Damian’s presence without being half-hard. Just his voice turned off Nick’s brain and went straight to his groin. Nick couldn’t think anymore; he could only feel the soft skin covering the rigid muscle that filled his mouth so satisfyingly. He suddenly realized that he loved the weight of Damian’s cock on his tongue, and he wanted more of it.

Worshipfully, he swirled his tongue around the head and slid it under the ridge, noticing the tiny leap of arousal in response. He’d become accustomed to the flavor of the drops that leaked copiously from the tip, relishing the salty taste. He held the base of Damian’s shaft steady with one hand while he groped for the older man’s balls with the other, allowing them to roll between his fingers. It was the first time he’d actually gotten to touch Damian, and he wished the other man would remove his clothing so he could see the rest of his body.

The tiny movement of his hips had become a rhythmic drive as Damian rocked into his mouth with increasing speed. Nick opened his mouth, letting his tongue ride along the older man’s shaft as he thrust inside. He felt the balls in his hand tighten and draw up, while the shaft seemed to enlarge, stretching his lips as he tried desperately not to let Damian break free.

“I’m close,” Damian said, his voice sounding strained. “You don’t have to—”

Nick started to hum and the vibration pushed Damian over the edge. His abs clenching, he thrust hard, one hand on the back of Nick’s head to hold him in place, the other gripping one ear. The young man swallowed, not sure about the consistency or texture, but quite sure that he liked the power of making Damian come so hard.

Damian froze in place and Nick felt him give one last quiver before his body relaxed. After a moment he withdrew gently and ordered, “Lick me clean, pet.”

Obediently Nick licked the cock, holding the limp member in his hand reverently.

Damian stepped away and Nick felt a sense of loss as the contact between them was broken. The photographer put himself together and zipped up his jeans, his eyes fixed on the naked young man looking up at him so hopefully.

“Thank you, pet. That was very… lovely.” Damian sighed. It had been more than lovely; it was sublime to feel his cock in Nick’s mouth, especially knowing that he was the first to venture there. Damian groped for the key, and freed Nick’s feet from the spreader.

“Come here.”

Nick struggled to his feet, stiff from kneeling so long, and staggered toward Damian, who laughed and caught his arm, turning him away to look at his bottom. His hand smoothed over Nick’s ass. “Still warm and pink. Scene over. Now go get dressed.”

Feeling suddenly cold, his cock limp, Nick turned his back, pulling on his clothes. He stood quietly, expecting to be dismissed.

Damian sat in his large leather chair behind the desk and opened his arms. “Come sit with me, Nick.”

Nick rushed to him, grateful when he felt strong arms close around him, pulling him down to sit on Damian’s lap. The older man pulled his head down onto his shoulder and turned off the desk lamp, so the only light came from the hall.

“Did you like that?”

“Yes. I loved it,” Nick barely breathed. He wasn’t sure what to do with his hands but took a chance and slid them around Damian’s torso, thrilling to the feel of hard muscle moving under his palms. It was comfortable sitting in the dark, where for once, he wasn’t on display.

“The blindfold didn’t scare you?”

“Not really. Not once I figured out why you did it,” Nick answered.

“Why did I do it?”

“So that I would feel, not think,” Nick said. He admitted, “It was also kind of hot not knowing what you were going to do next.”

Damian chuckled and the vibration was comforting to Nick. “Did you like it when I finger-fucked you?”

“Is that what it was? I didn’t think I would, but I did,” Nick said honestly. He was beginning to see what Damian was up to with all these questions. “It did feel good.”

“And the spanking? I swatted you harder than the first time, and longer, but you seemed to enjoy it.”

Nick hid his face in the crook of Damian’s neck. “Yes,” came his muffled reply.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Nick,” Damian said, stroking his back. “What disturbed you earlier in the day?”

“I guess it wasn’t so much Markie taking the clamp off in front of everyone; it was my reaction. I was so close. I didn’t want them to know how much I enjoyed it,” Nick said, struggling to put his feelings into words. “Ashley doesn’t know… know that you’re spanking me, does he?”

“He knows something is going on between us, but not the specifics,” Damian answered, wondering what the right answer was. His boy started to tremble in his arms.

“How? How does he know?” Nick whispered fearfully.

“Babe,” Damian raised Nick’s face with a finger under his chin. “Ashley is a player. He knows I’m a player and a Dom. There’s no way I’d let a boy like you Top me; therefore he knows you’re a bottom. He doesn’t know exactly what we’re doing, but he asked if I was claiming you. He’s afraid you might go elsewhere and get hurt.”

This was all a bit too much information for Nick to process, so he seized on the most important part. “And… and are you claiming me?”

“I already did. Whenever we’re in a scene, you belong to me and you do as I say,” Damian said, his voice dropping into the husky drawl that haunted Nick’s dreams.

He felt a little disappointed that Damian was only claiming him during scenes, but he wasn’t sure that he really wanted more himself. Did he want to belong to Damian all the time? And what would that mean for the rest of his life?

Damian instinctively knew that something was going on in that busy brain, but he just held Nick on his lap and stroked his back.

“What else are you going to do to me?” Nick asked hesitantly.

“If I told you, I couldn’t surprise you, now could I?” Damian laughed.

“Is what we’re doing… gay?”

Damian frowned. “Is that a problem? I’m giving you pleasure, you’re giving me pleasure. Do you want a woman doing any of this to you?”

“No, oh no!” Nick said earnestly, shuddering at the thought of the attractive women who played dominatrixes during the shoot doing… anything to him. “I was just wondering—”

“Does it scare you to suspect that you’re gay?”

Nick nodded and then shook his head. “Yes. No. I don’t know.”

“If you find women attractive also, you’re probably bi. I’m gay,” Damian said. “I only want to fuck beautiful boys like you,” he added, cuddling him. Nick stiffened in his arms.

“You’re… you’re going to fuck me? You’ll never fit!” he exclaimed fearfully.

Damian pushed Nick off his lap and pointed at the floor. Nick scrambled to kneel, gripping his hands behind him. He hadn’t pissed Damian off, had he? The thought of losing all this when he’d only started exploring this side of himself scared him.

“I will do whatever I want to you. I don’t have to discuss it. I will decide what will please me and then you’ll do it. Is that clear?”

Nick nodded, swallowing convulsively.

“Will you submit to me?”

“Yes, sir,” came the soft answer.

“Am I frightening you, Nicholas?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.” Damian relaxed, taking in the deliciously submissive lines of the body drooping in front of him. “Do you trust me?”

Without needing time to think, the answer spilled out of his mouth, surprising even Nick. “Yes, sir.”

Damian stood up and stretched, his mouth gaping open in a yawn. “We’re shooting tomorrow, even though it’s Saturday. Are you busy or can you come?” He smirked at the double meaning.

“I’ll be here, sir,” Nick said, his soft voice hopeful.

“Be here at nine. Don’t be late. All right. Get off home and have a good night’s rest.”

Nick stood up, his head awhirl.

On the tube he crossed his legs as he stood, hanging onto the strap, trying to keep his unruly dick under control. There was just too much to think about. Ashley was worried about him getting hurt, even though he was doing things that did hurt. He had sucked a man’s cock for the first time, on his knees. He’d been spanked and had fingers up his arsehole, fucking him while Damian had jacked him off. He’d worn a collar briefly and had clamps attached to his nipples.

And Damian was planning to fuck him! And he’d agreed to it! What was going on with him? The only thing he was sure of was that he was more aroused and yet more satisfied than he’d ever been in his life, now that he’d given himself to this man.

He wondered what the next day would bring.

 

 

Chapter 7

 

 

“I DON’T think so, dude,” Derek said, shaking his head. “It looks ridiculous on you.”

Nick popped his head into the bathroom and giggled at his reflection in the mirror. The collar he was wearing looked as if it was designed to restrain a ferocious Rottweiler, not him; it was thick and sturdy, studded with silver spikes, ridiculous around his slender throat.

“Let me see,” Ashley called out, while he adjusted another around Markie’s neck.

Nick turned around and Ashley laughed. “No, that one’s not for you, lad. Take it off him, Derek.”

Derek went to unbuckle the collar. “Ashley had some other ones made, lighter ones. He said they were for you. Know where they are?”

“I think Damian has them,” Nick murmured, his face flushing. He didn’t meet Derek’s eyes.

“So, are you two dating?” Derek asked bluntly.

Nick blushed harder but he looked Derek in the eye and asked, “Are you dating Ashley?”

“Nope,” Derek answered cheerfully. He tossed the collar into the box with the others. “We did for a while, but he’s into all this S&M crap and it scares me like fuck.”

“Really? Did he insist on using it on you?” Nick asked, surprised. Somehow Ashley’s sense of humor was such that he couldn’t see him acting quite the way Damian did. Even today, he was a little uncertain around the photographer. Remembering their encounter the night before, with him bent over naked getting his arse spanked and then sucking Damian’s cock, made him feel bashful while still sending shivers of delight through him when he thought about it.

“No, not at all. When he told me he was into all this, I kind of… lost it and screamed at him and dumped him,” Derek mumbled shame-facedly.

“You mean you didn’t even try it?” Nick asked, wondering if he was just extremely weird for agreeing to all that Damian had done to him so far.

“No! Why should I?” Derek asked defensively.

“You won’t know if you like something until you try it,” Nick pointed out. “I thought you were more adventurous than that. You sure talk a good game.”

It was Derek’s turn to flush. “Well, maybe I’m not. Are you telling me you’ve tried this?”

“I’m not telling you anything, but if I really liked a guy, I think I might give him the benefit of the doubt,” Nick said. He watched as Derek’s eyes followed Ashley, who was joking with Markie, leading him to the set on a leash. “He must have thought that you didn’t trust him.”

“Shit,” Derek said. “I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings. I just freaked.”

“If you have a safe word, you can use it to stop someone,” Nick explained, suddenly feeling much more secure talking to the boy he’d thought was so worldly and experienced. At least he knew something Derek didn’t. “Besides, Ashley doesn’t seem like the kind of guy that would just hurt you without stopping to check if you were enjoying what he was doing.”

Derek sighed. “Enjoying! Besides, it’s too late now, anyway. He’s all over that blond bloke.”

“If you really want him, if you… love him,” Nick said hesitantly, “maybe you should talk to him.”

“I was kind of hanging around you, hoping he’d get jealous,” Derek said with a laugh. “You’re fuckin’ gorgeous and if he thought I could get you, then maybe he’d… he’d be interested in me again.”

Nick smiled. “Not going to work, Derek. I think he knows about me and Damian.”

Derek’s eyes flew to meet Nick’s and he chortled triumphantly. “So you are dating him!”

Nick glanced at Damian uneasily and the photographer looked up at him at that moment, smiling warmly. “Yeah, I guess I am,” he muttered.

“Cool!”

 

 

DEREK NUDGED Nick in the ribs as they stood behind the lights, watching Damian as he set up the next shot. “Dude, have you noticed that you’re never in a shot with any of the girls?”

Nick had noticed it and wondered uneasily if Damian thought he couldn’t hold his own with the beautiful girls, but he wasn’t about to explore that thought with Derek. “Nah, no big deal.”

“Ashley said this shot might end up on the cover,” Derek said, nodding toward the sensuous tableaux.

The way Damian had lit the models twined together, Nick could not actually see what they were doing, but the tangle of masculine and feminine, the golden gleam of light on bare skin shining with droplets of sweat, the hint of restraints and whips, muscles tensed with power or soft in surrender, left plenty to the imagination. He longed to be a part of what he was witnessing, even though the ephemeral emotion created by the glimpses of bodies was just an illusion, nothing real, nothing solid.

Yet it felt real to him. It called to him like a siren of yore as the flash of Damian’s light froze the continuously moving mass of silken flesh into slivers of time, one moment after another.

And then it was over.

“All right. You can take a break now,” Damian called out.

The models giggled and joked as they unwound themselves from each other and became ordinary people again, instead of seductive gods and demons with the power to entice Nick out from his safe position behind the lights.

He looked over at Derek to find that he had been likewise affected by the scene. Derek’s mouth was open and he looked rather gobsmacked as he stared. He swallowed and turned his head toward Nick slowly, as if just coming awake. “Dude, that was… something else.”

“Yeah,” Nick agreed. “Something else.” He couldn’t remember ever feeling jealous when any of his past girlfriends had mentioned other guys to him, but he felt it now as he watched the Bettie Paige girl flirt her way over to Damian, chatting with him and laughing, her eyes wide and innocent. Damian seemed to find her amusing, looking down at her and speaking with animation, gesturing with both arms.

Nick turned away abruptly; he had no right to object to Damian doing whatever he liked. He went into the little kitchen, trying to find some task to distract himself. There were several used mugs left sitting in the sink and Nick began to run hot water so he could wash them.

“Well, well, so you’re the little elf that keeps this place clean,” the Bettie Paige girl said, standing in the doorway with both hands on her hips, clutching a crop in one of them. “Or should I say fairy?”

“I work here,” Nick said, feeling inane and ineffective.

The girl strolled toward him, her sleek hips rolling lusciously in her tight leather outfit. As she drew closer Nick could see it wasn’t trousers after all; she was wearing a bustier with boots that reached to her thigh, with heels so high and pointy that her slow deliberate walk was more of necessity than for effect. “With your looks, I thought you were a model.”

“I model part time,” Nick muttered. Her perfume seemed to take him into a conspiracy of closeness with her and he wrinkled his nose with distaste.

“So are you a homo like all those other pretty boys?” she inquired impertinently. “Or are you only a queer part time as well?” She raised the crop and tickled his chin with it.

Nick lifted his chin to disengage from the crop. “None of your business.”

“What if I make it my business?” she said with a slow smile. “I like to play and you might learn something. Even if you are gay.”

“Thanks, but no thanks,” Nick said, scowling at her and crossing his arms defiantly.

“You can’t say no to me. How can you resist me when I’m dressed like this? I give the orders, you follow them.” The girl raised the crop playfully, as if to give him a swat.

Nick stepped forward and grabbed the crop, staring down into her eyes, for even with her six-inch heels, he was still the taller. The tone of command that in Damian’s throaty voice melted him into submission had no effect coming from this girl. They froze in place for a moment, struggling for possession.

“Rawrrrr,” Gabe purred from the doorway.

Mistress Bettie looked up, startled, and let go of the crop, which sent Nick staggering back a step, but in triumphant possession of what had almost become a weapon between them.

“Look at your bad self, bebe, disarming the big, bad dominatrix.”

The girl giggled and Nick suddenly saw the humor in the situation, his lips starting to twitch. “Yeah, that’s me, brave as a lion.”

Mistress Bettie put her hand out. “May I have my whip back? Pretty please?”

Ashley and Damian came up behind Gabe, crowding the doorway, and Nick felt a little foolish to be caught this way. Ashley smirked when he took in the scene, but Damian’s eyes lit up with creative fervor.

“Technically that’s a crop, but hold that thought. Gabe, get Nick ready, would you?” Damian directed. He didn’t enjoy watching Nick laughing with Mistress Bettie, but he was torn; once he’d seen them struggling for possession of the crop, he had to capture the dynamic image. He would deal with his own feelings later.

“Pretty please with a cherry on top?” Bettie pouted prettily at Nick.

“I don’t know. I might feel better hanging onto this myself.” Nick grinned. “I might need protection.”

“We’re waiting for you for the next shot, Bettie,” Ashley said deliberately.

Bettie pouted prettily for the two men. “Nick and I were just getting acquainted. Where have you been hiding him? He’s a very cute boy and I haven’t noticed him in any shots.”

“With you?” Ashley laughed.

“Yes, with me. We’re the best two models you’ve got. I think we belong together.” Bettie gave Nick a sidelong, appraising look, as if she was still trying to figure out his sexuality.

“That can be arranged,” Ashley agreed silkily. He seemed amused, glancing between Nick’s face to Bettie’s flirtatious one. “It could be very interesting.”

“Nicky sweetie, come give mama some sugar,” Gabe said, grabbing Nick’s wrist and dragging him bodily into the makeup room. “Sorry, bebe, it took me a minute to get in there. What was that bitch saying to you?”

Nick stared at him in disbelief. “What are you? The cavalry, coming to the rescue?” He giggled at the image of Gabe, who was wearing a purple silk poet shirt with ruffles today, prancing about in the role of hero, even though he was touched by the other man’s concern. He’d no idea that Gabe felt anything toward him other than a desire to taunt him until he blushed and ran.

“Why did you let her get to you like that?” Gabe asked, serious for once.

Nick couldn’t bring himself to confide in Gabe that he didn’t like watching her flirt with Damian. “I don’t know; she just got to me.”

“She calls herself Mistress Bettie but don’t get misled by the window dressing,” Gabe said, starting to powder Nick’s face. “Where’s that eyeliner?”

“I don’t wear eyeliner.” Nick spoke absently, his mind consumed with the new information. “I just assumed that she—”

“You will for this shot, honey.” Gabe pulled the skin taut near Nick’s right eye with his thumb and started smudging the liner into the lash line. “Just because she wears that fetching leather bustier and those killer heels doesn’t mean a thing. She’s a wannabe.”

“How well does Damian know her?” Nick could have bitten off his tongue at how that came out. Jealous didn’t even begin to describe it. He found his fists clenching around the forgotten crop.

“He doesn’t have to know her; he knows how to read people.” Gabe smiled as Nick writhed uncomfortably, remembering how well Damian had read him. “It comes with the territory.”

“Are you into this S&M thing too?” Nick asked before he could stop himself.

Gabe smiled secretively. “Maybe it’s better that you not know.”

“Maybe,” Nick muttered. He suddenly remembered that if Gabe answered his question, perhaps the stylist might be asking the same thing of him. And Nick was quite sure he was not ready to share.

 

 

WHEN NICK came out to the set, Mistress Bettie’s face was prettily flushed as she flirted outrageously with Ashley, who was being most courtly with her, considering his lack of interest in the fairer sex.

Damian took in a quick breath when he saw Nick, his eyes dark and mysterious ringed with the black liner. Nick was still a bit uncertain about being hauled out here to be in a shot with Mistress Bettie. He wasn’t afraid of her; she wielded none of the erotic power over him that Damian did. But that didn’t mean he had to like her ragging at him or having to pose with her.

“Come over here, pretty boy, and get on your knees,” Bettie called enticingly to Nick.

Nick opened his mouth to retort but Damian forestalled him. “If anything, I might put you on your knees to him.”

“Oh no, I think—”

“But you’re not the photographer and we will do this my way,” Damian said, his eyes still on Nick.

“Bunch of fucking poofters,” Bettie muttered.

Damian turned to look at her and she lowered her eyes, biting her lip.

Ashley was laughing at her. “Now it’s not really wise to insult the client, is it, my dear?”

“I took that as a compliment,” Damian said. “Nick, please go stand next to Bettie.”

“Mistress Bettie,” the dark girl corrected, obviously starting to get riled with the needling.

“Face each other, please,” Damian said, ignoring her retort. “Bettie, lift up that crop, as if you’re about to strike him. You hate that you have to look up to him. Nick, you’re not going to let her get away with threatening you.”

Her eyes narrowed and Nick, his temper a bit on edge since their earlier confrontation, grabbed her wrist, the muscles of his bicep bulging against the black T-shirt he wore as they strained against each other.

The two dark models glared at each other, startled when Damian said, “Yes! That’s exactly what I want. Hold it right there. More! Push against each other. I want to see those muscles work. Yes, that’s it! You can stop now.”

Both models let go of the crop at the same moment, causing it to fall to the floor. Nick bent to pick it up at the same time as Bettie, and they banged their heads together smartly.

Bettie rubbed her head and giggled. “This isn’t over yet, pretty boy. I’ll get you somehow.”

“Not if I get you first,” Nick retorted. “Well, that must have looked brilliant. Thank fuck Damian didn’t get a shot of that.”

“Who says I didn’t?” Damian said.

“Blackmail material,” Nick said accusingly. He shivered slightly, remembering that Damian actually owned photos of him that could be used for that purpose.

As if he knew just what Nick was thinking, Damian shook his head slightly. “Why don’t you two get ready for your next poses?”

He frowned as he watched Nick walk off the set with the pretty girl hanging onto his arm, wondering why he had thought to pair them. When he first saw them glaring at each other and struggling over the crop, he was inspired by the combative chemistry, but watching them laugh together now reminded him of Nick’s doubts about being gay.

“Let’s see it,” Ashley demanded, coming up behind Damian and interrupting his reverie.

Damian went to the computer and downloaded the shots, setting them to view in slow rotation.

“Revolt of the sub,” Ashley said. “Damned fine shot!” he exclaimed, looking at the two lithe bodies braced dynamically against each other, struggling for control.

Damian stopped the slide show, examining the best shot. “But which is which?”

“Why, Nick, isn’t it? No, it’s hard to tell really,” Ashley mused. “He looks a bit of a switch there, not cowed by her at all.”

“I suppose there’s a little switchery in all of us,” Damian answered, chuckling at the look of horror on Ashley’s face.

“My dear Ian, there is absolutely no truth to that rumor at all!”

“You were born holding a cane then? How pleased your mother must have been.”

“Yes. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.” Ashley peered more closely at the screen, where both model’s faces were clearly visible, unlike all the other photos. “Did you take this for yourself or the catalog?”

Without answering directly, Damian brought up the shot in Photoshop and cropped it in all around, to where it still revealed the stubborn set of Nick’s mouth and chin. He cut off the sides, keeping the angular attitude of their bodies, but the new framing completely altered the emotive quality of the photograph. Instead of two angry people struggling for a whip, the image took on the aura of a dangerous dance of seduction, as if a couple were doing some kind of dissolute tango around a whip for a maypole. There was no telling who was in control, but the way the light fell on the taut muscles of both model’s arms led directly to the gleaming crop, making it the focal point of the picture. “The play of masculine and feminine, showing the intrinsic power of each.”

“I don’t know how you see these things,” Ashley said, shaking his head. “That is far more seditious than actually seeing that crop strike the flesh. Dammit, I was there, and I want to know what happened next between this pair.”

“Now that really is a compliment,” Damian said. “Thank you.”

“Best catalog ever,” Ashley murmured. “What are you going to do to top this next year?”

Damian looked startled. “This was a one-time project. You said so yourself.”

“And you believed me,” Ashley said, smug with pity. “Even after all this time, how little you know me.”

 

 

TWO BLACK male models flanked the blond sub woman, all wearing the same leather collar, with square steel studs and a large ring in front. Black leather set off the woman’s fair skin, while the two men wore red collars, contrasting with their dark skin.

Unlike other purveyors of erotic toys, Ashley’s company offered a wider array of colors, rather than just the usual black.

“Black is so dull,” Ashley declared, watching as Damian worked with the three models. “I like a bit of color.”

“At both ends, no doubt,” Damian teased.

Ashley laughed. “You know me too well. On some issues.”

It was gratifying to see Damian joking about the subject; he’d been alone for a long time. And now Ashley realized he’d been right to wait. No casual encounter would have satisfied him like whatever it was he was doing with Nick. Ashley could tell that he was a special young man. Not merely beautiful on the outside, but with a sweetness and naïveté about the life that suited the photographer’s style. Without ever having played with him or seen him in action, Ashley intuited that Damian preferred the mental aspect of dominating another man, rather than taking pleasure in the technical mastery required to leave the marks that he himself enjoyed.

Damian straightened up and stretched his back. “That’s the regular collars done. Now for that new line you’ve got. Who’s going to show those off?”

“Nick for sure in that wine number. And I think Markie for the black. I do like a blond in black,” Ashley declared, rubbing his hands.

“Why not use Derek?” Damian asked mischievously. “He’s got a lovely, vulnerable throat,” he said, privately thinking that Nick’s was much more tender and sweet. And he couldn’t help but notice how Ashley and Derek eyed each other whenever they thought the other one wouldn’t catch on.

Ashley’s lips thinned to a straight line and his green eyes grew cold. “He thinks I’m a complete pervert. A sadist,” he said grimly. “I’m sure he wouldn’t be interested.”

“What happened between you two?” Damian asked. “Why do you keep him on if it’s such a sore subject between you?”

“He’s free to leave if he likes,” Ashley shrugged. “I’m sure I don’t care.”

Sure you don’t, Damian thought. “Well, I have a sub to put into a collar.”

“Sorry about that. I rather jumped the gun yesterday.” Ashley had the grace to look abashed.

“Trying to force my hand, Ash?”

“I actually don’t know what I was thinking, but I apologize for taking liberties with your sub.”

Damian thought Ashley was sincere; he sounded confused, which was unusual for the ordinarily brash man. “If you can’t be happy, you want me to be? Vicarious romance?” he asked, curling his lip sarcastically.

“So it’s a romance, then?” Ashley pried gleefully.

“You bounce back too easily,” Damian laughed. “It most definitely is not a romance. I’m just helping him discover himself, and that’s all you’re going to get out of me.”

“Don’t be too sure of that,” Ashley called after him.

“Nicholas, may I see you in my office, please?” Damian asked, aware of Derek’s big green eyes fixed on them.

“Sure, sir,” Nick said cheerfully, but he turned immediately to follow Damian.

The photographer closed the door and pointed to the floor. The thought of kneeling to the Bettie Paige girl was just… distasteful, but Damian had only to point and Nick couldn’t get on his knees fast enough.

Damian stood motionless, staring at the boy kneeling in front of him. It was a distinct possibility that Nick might want to move on from him, now that he’d seen for himself that there were women who were into the scene. Damian had no problem imagining Bettie bending Nick over a table and spanking him, and it was eating him up that Nick might prefer it that way. The boy seemed to be struggling to come to grips with the fact that he was engaging in kinky sexual acts with another man.

“You were standing very close to Bettie, pet, and you let her touch you,” Damian said sternly.

“You posed us, sir,” Nick said in confusion, not sure what he’d done wrong. Damian couldn’t possibly be angry about what happened out on the set, could he? After all, it was only for the photograph.

“I did,” Damian agreed. “But are you sure that’s all it was? Perhaps you find Bettie attractive?”

Nick looked up in shock, and then quickly lowered his eyes once more, gripping his hands tightly behind his back to still their trembling, afraid that Damian was going to use Bettie as an excuse to end what they were doing together.

“Perhaps you’d rather it were Bettie bending you over her lap and warming your bottom?”

“I don’t want that, sir,” Nick muttered, with a shiver of distaste. “I don’t want anyone else to… do what you do with me.”

Damian stared intently at Nick’s bent head, as though he were trying to get into the boy’s mind for absolute confirmation that Nick wasn’t interested in Bettie at all. He hadn’t missed the shudder Nick gave, but wasn’t quite sure if it meant disgust or arousal.

“Sir?” Nick said anxiously, afraid to ruin what he had with Damian, but determined that he would let the man know something of how he felt.

“What is it, pet?” Damian asked.

“I… I didn’t like it when you were talking and laughing with Bettie,” Nick admitted.

“What didn’t you like?” Damian asked curiously. “That I was talking to Bettie, or that she was talking to me?”

“It wasn’t that you were talking,” Nick replied. “It was… you looked like you were having fun with her and I thought maybe… you might want someone more… more—”

“Experienced?”

Nick nodded miserably, certain now that Damian was going to tell him that he would prefer someone he didn’t have to explain things to.

Damian chuckled and shook his head, amused that they’d both been consumed by the same jealousy. “Bettie and I were talking about riding, pet, that’s all. I have no interest in her outside of a shared love of horses. You’ve said yourself that you don’t know if you’re gay. I merely thought perhaps it might be more comfortable for you with a woman.”

“I don’t know if I’m gay,” Nick agreed, “but I do know that I really enjoy when you… spank me and… other stuff, sir. I don’t want anyone but you to do that stuff to me.”

“Then I will keep spanking you and showing you pleasure, pet, because that gives me pleasure,” Damian said with satisfaction.

Damian picked up the red collar he’d taken off the boy the previous day. “I’m going to put this on you, but you haven’t earned it yet. However, once I have placed any collar around your neck, I shall expect you to do exactly as I say. In effect, we are in a scene once this is on, although no one out there will be aware of it. Are you ready for that, pet?”

Nick’s mind was spinning out of control. Did this mean that he would be required to kneel at Damian’s command? Would Damian call him pet in front of the others? Despite his confusion, there was just something about the older man that compelled his compliance. He nodded slowly. “I’m ready, sir.”

Damian’s fingers were very gentle as he fastened the collar and smoothed it into place. Nick arched into the tender caress like a cat, rubbing his face unconsciously against Damian’s wrist.

Damian suppressed a shiver; the boy was really getting to him. The wine red collar against the burnished golden skin made him aware that he wished that he really were collaring Nick. He controlled the urge to stake his claim and pushed it away. They were too different. Hell, they were ten years apart in age. Nick would get his jollies for a while and then he’d leave. Damian was not prepared to hand his heart to the boy so easily.

He pulled his hands away and crossed his arms in front of his body. “Go to Gabe. Have him use some of that shiny stuff on your body. I want your skin to glow in this shot.”

“Yes, sir,” Nick said softly and got to his feet. He opened the door and paused, looking back, touching the collar with one finger. “Thank you, sir.”

“You’re welcome.”

Damian stared at the closed door and wondered what he was doing. Playing with fire, that’s what, he decided.

 

 

“DID YOU know one of the male models is… heterosexual?” Ashley demanded.

Damian smirked at Ashley’s outraged face. “You can’t ask their sexual orientation before you hire them, Ash. You know that. And it’s not a dirty word.”

“I know, but I’d been having the most delicious fantasy about him,” Ashley mourned. “Now it’s all ruined.”

“Which one?” Damian asked, curious despite himself.

“Ruben, the black guy with the shaved head and the long—”

“I know the one,” Damian interrupted hastily, seeing the model in question emerge from the makeup room, escorting Mistress Bettie. They appeared to be having a good time with each other, laughing and even holding hands, which instantly aroused his suspicions. “Playing Cupid again?”

“I merely asked if anyone was straight,” Ashley asked smugly. “He volunteered that he was so I put him on to keep Bettie entertained.”

“Thanks, Ash, but I think we’ve got it worked out now,” Damian said, touched by his friend’s good intentions.

“I’m sure you do, but a little extra insurance policy never hurts.”

“You look good in wings, Ashley.”

“Wings!” Ashley cried out. “Brilliant! I must get that into development for next year!” He took out his BlackBerry and started punching buttons furiously.

 

 

NICK WAS on his knees, wearing only tight leather pants and the red collar. Markie stood beside him, further back obscured in the shadow, where just a gleam reflecting off his leather pants revealed his presence. Nick had his hands clasped behind his back. A glittering silver leash was swaying between his collar and Markie’s gloved hand.

Nick looked at the floor, his lashes veiling his eyes, wondering exactly how this looked. He could sort of picture it, and he now knew enough to realize that his aching knees and the twinge in his hip didn’t show up on film. Instead, quite surprising things, secret revealing things showed up, a testament to Damian’s mastery of his medium and his models. Nick was incredibly relieved that the female models had been sent home, especially Bettie. He could only imagine her avid interest in this pose.

Markie shifted slightly in response to Damian’s orders and Nick was relieved that the photographer spoke to each of them in exactly the same tone. Of course, he didn’t realize that Damian automatically addressed Markie the same way, seeing as he was also submissive, but at least he didn’t feel as if his secret had been revealed.

When he was satisfied with his shots, Damian released the two models. Markie dropped the leash and took Nick’s arm, hauling him groaning to his feet. “People always think modeling is so glamorous,” he commented wryly. “They should try holding a pose for a long stretch sometime.”

Nick laughed, allowing Markie to hang onto his arm as he worked the kinks out of his knees, unaware of jealous eyes watching them. “Thanks,” Nick said, before going to the monitor to see the shot.

Ashley was struck dumb. “That is fuckin’ brilliant, Ian. That shot alone, shit, this has got to be the cover.”

“I thought you liked that group shot,” Damian teased.

“Back cover. This wins the front, hands down,” Ashley said, in a voice that sounded as if he was falling in love. Or at least in the grips of a deep crush. It made Nick giggle.

Damian looked pleased with it himself, and Nick could see why as soon he glanced at the screen. His face was in shadow, except for a triangle of light that gleamed over his parted lips, widening to reveal the new collar on his throat. His skin shimmered with the luminous oil that Gabe had smoothed onto him (taking entirely too much pleasure in it, to Nick’s discomfort), highlighting the muscles in his shoulders, pectorals, and abdomen. Fuck, his nipples looked wet as if someone had just licked them.

The other model was barely visible, emerging from the shadows just enough to personify menace, towering over the slim boy, the leash wrapped around his black gloved hand, making Nick’s submissive pose all the more palpable.

Therefore Nick was unprepared for the frown that Damian turned on him. The photographer unhooked the leash from his collar and tersely commanded, “Go get cleaned up.”

The two models walked to the makeup room together, while Ashley, Derek, and Damian examined the shot.

“Damian, this is a masterpiece. I want to buy a print,” Ashley said soberly.

“I’ll think about it,” Damian said in a surly voice.

Ashley studied his friend’s troubled face. “Look, let’s go out to dinner. Someplace nice, my treat. We’ve been pushing to get this finished, and you’re tired. I want to show you how much I appreciate your artistry and care. We’ll make it an early night, we’ll take Sunday off, and you’ll feel better by Monday.”

Privately wondering if Sunday without Nick might not drive him crazy, Damian agreed with a strained smile. “Sorry, Ash. I guess I am bushed. Dinner sounds good.”

“We’ll have Nick and Markie along as well,” Ashley said hospitably. When he followed them to the makeup room to extend the invitation, Damian noticed how Derek’s shoulders slumped in defeat.

“Ask him if you can come along. He’ll invite you too. I’m sure he just wasn’t thinking,” Damian said.

“I couldn’t,” Derek said, in an uncharacteristically quiet voice.

Ashley emerged from the makeup room, saying “Nick said yes, if you’re okay with it, Ian, and Markie can’t come, so it’ll be just us three.”

“Four,” Damian said. “I invited Derek.”

“Oh. All right then,” Ashley said nervously.

“Excuse me. I need to speak to Nick,” Damian said, basely abandoning the other two to work things out for themselves.

Nick came out of the makeup room, considerably less shiny and buttoning up one of his atrocious shirts, still wearing the collar.

Damian grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him into the office, locking the door behind them. “You’re still wearing it.”

“I didn’t think you’d like it if you put it on and I let Gabe take it off,” Nick responded nervously.

“Good instincts, pet.” Damian’s fingers stroked over the leather. “I think we’ll leave it on for a while.”

“You mean, I’m to go to a restaurant wearing a collar?” Nick’s voice rose uncertainly.

“Yes, that’s precisely what I mean. I will enjoy knowing that you’re wearing it under your shirt, where no one else can see it. A sign of my ownership.” Damian slowly buttoned the boy’s shirt all the way to the top, patting his chest when he was finished. “Let’s go.”

Nick wanted to check to see if the collar was showing, but Damian didn’t allow him any time for that. He simply unlocked the door and pushed Nick out ahead of him. Ashley and Derek were waiting by the outer door, so the young man had no chance to ask any questions, like, was he still under Damian’s control?

Nick decided to be safe rather than sorry later, so he went with yes.

 

 

Chapter 8

 

 

THE RESTAURANT that Ashley chose was expensive and good. The food was excellent and the two older men spent time over the wine list, choosing a different one to go with each course.

Even if he hadn’t been wearing the collar, Nick would have been on his best behavior, subdued by the elegance of his surroundings. And yet the restaurant was comfortable, just noisy enough to not feel conspicuous if one laughed out loud and the wait staff were friendly and prompt. It was a relief for once, to have someone waiting on him. Unbeknownst to him, the restaurant was part of the club that Ashley belonged to, explaining the high quality of service.

The atmosphere was soothing and luxurious. Even Derek and Ashley seemed to relax a little with each other, speaking civilly and taking part in the conversation.

Ashley, however, noticed that the dangerous glint in Damian’s eyes had increased, rather than diminished. He was wondering if the other two had had a squabble, but Nick seemed to be most attentive, watching the photographer for approval.

Then Ashley realized that in spite of the baggy pants and incredibly ugly shirt, Nick’s beauty was attracting no little attention from the other guests. Men and women alike were watching Nick, recognizing him as an inexperienced sub, and Damian didn’t like it one bit. Ashley was wondering what Damian was going to do about that, because he wasn’t the kind of man to let that kind of threat go.

In fact, Damian was fuming. Everything seemed to be rubbing him the wrong way that day: first Ashley offering Nick the collar, the misunderstanding over Mistress Bettie, and now the older man at another table who had met his eyes more than once, staring insolently at him in a clear challenge. The older dominant emanated a subtle aura of power and he made it obvious that he wanted Nick. A young man of Nick’s age, impressionable, just starting to take a few tentative steps into this lifestyle, could be blind to the real dangers that lurked out there, and Damian wanted to keep him from that. But most of all, Damian meant to show that man and anyone else that they were not going to simply take his boy away from him.

When Nick went to the restroom, he went alone, declining Derek’s offer to accompany him; he never had been able to pee when people were watching him. He was amazed by the elegance of the restroom. It was lined with gleaming marble, dark and masculine. There were mini halogen lights suspended over each trendy vessel sink, making the glass sparkle, and real linen towels. Nick was washing his hands when Damian came in, catching his reflection in the glass. His smile faded when he saw Damian lock the outer door behind him.

Damian’s eyes glittered dangerously at Nick’s questioning look. He stepped up behind him and slid his hands under the boy’s shirt, stroking his supple skin.

“I don’t like how people are looking you, pet. I’m going to put my mark on you,” Damian growled.

“Huh?” was Nick’s highly intelligent reply. He was completely unprepared for the other man’s possessive attitude. “No one was looking at me.”

“Shut up. Take down your pants. I’m going to mark you as mine.”

Nick squeaked and held onto his belt, fighting Damian for possession of it. “Here? Everyone will hear. They’ll know!”

“I want them to know,” Damian said, winning the wrestling match for the belt as was inevitable that he would.

“London!” Nick gasped. “London!”

Damian stopped, his eyes clearing as he noticed how terrified Nick looked. After a long minute, he pulled him into a hug. “I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought you’d like it.” He rubbed his hand ruefully over Nick’s back, feeling the boy’s heart pounding against his chest. “You’re trembling. It’s okay. I’m not going to do it.”

Nick laughed weakly and pushed himself away to look into Damian’s eyes. “I guess I can trust you.”

Damian cupped his chin. “You can. That wasn’t brilliant of me, but if you found out for sure you can trust me, it wasn’t totally in vain.”

Nick smiled and asked in a small voice, “Were people really looking at me?”

“They weren’t just looking; they want you,” Damian growled, his ire rising again at the thought of someone taking his boy.

“And you want to mark me?” Nick asked, tilting his head and smiling provocatively.

Damian was stunned; his boy was teasing him? “Let’s not forget who’s boss here, pet,” he threatened.

“I was just thinking, you could mark me a different way,” Nick said. “Give me a hickey.”

Damian stared at him and started to laugh. “Why you little… I will give you one, just to teach you. You’ll regret stealing my thunder, you scamp.”

Nick started to giggle. “Scamp? Is that a time-honored title for a sub?”

“No, but you are one,” Damian said. He pulled Nick closer and unbuttoned his shirt, opening it and turning his boy to face the mirror, pressing Nick back against his chest. “You’re my scamp and I don’t mean to let you forget it.”

Nick watched Damian’s hands roaming possessively over his body, cupping his groin and coming up to tug meaningfully on the collar exposed now that his shirt was open.

“Mine,” Damian growled. He thumbed Nick’s nipples as he bent to bite the tender throat right above the collar. He sucked furiously, making a mark that would last for several days. When he was finished, he raised his head to inspect the wet red bite mark in the mirror, taking in Nick’s dazed eyes and parted lips as he panted softly.

Damian spun the boy in his arms and bit his chest, just above his right nipple, leaving another sign. “Now you’re marked as mine. And everyone out there will know it. Return to the table after you button up.”

With that he grabbed the boy’s hair, pulling him closer, and kissed Nick bruisingly hard, not giving him a kiss so much as demanding possession of his mouth. And then he was gone.

Nick looked after Damian in a trance, wondering what had just happened between them. For sure, it had been interesting. And he felt infinitely relieved that he’d been able to stop Damian, merely by using his safe word.

He buttoned up, noticing that the mark Damian had sucked on his neck peeked over the collar of his shirt. He drew a finger over his swollen lips in wonder that he could arouse that passion of possessiveness.

Damian returned to the table wearing a feral grin that put Ashley on alert. He was having so much fun watching Dominant Damian come out to play that he hadn’t even quarreled once with Derek during the time they’d been left alone at the table.

Damian watched with pride as certain persons in the room recognized the mark of ownership he’d set upon Nick’s neck, watching him weave his way through the tables. There was acknowledgment of his claim and the one Dom who’d challenged Damian discreetly lifted his glass in capitulation.

Ashley noticed the slightly bewildered look and reddened lips, and watched to see whether Nick winced as he dropped to his chair. As he didn’t, Ashley concluded that something different than he anticipated had happened in the restroom. He was dying to ask, but he knew that Damian would never tell him.

Derek’s eyes flicked between the other three men. He recognized the look of a successful hunter on Damian’s face, the confused lust on Nick’s, but what surprised him most was the expression of longing in Ashley’s eyes when the older man looked at him. He smiled tentatively and wondered if perhaps he’d been too hasty in refusing a spanking from the handsome man.

 

 

NERVOUSLY NICK followed Damian upstairs to the studio when Ashley had dropped them off after dinner, driving away with a rather silent Derek beside him. Nick and Damian were quiet as well, the tension between them simmering just below the surface.

Baulked of his intention to mark Nick in the restroom at the restaurant, Damian was determined to possess him tonight. It was all very well to leave a hickey and growl mine, but he wished to take what no other man before him had enjoyed. It annoyed him that he was unable to control his own impulses, but he pushed the thought away.

“Go to the makeup room. Wait for me,” Damian commanded tersely.

Nick was beginning to realize that he was not going to get off with a mere hickey. Tonight Damian was determined to mark him in some more visible way. He felt a thrill of fear, not knowing exactly what Damian had planned for him, but knowing that he was going to be feeling something different on his arse tonight. He started when Damian reappeared in the doorway.

“Follow me.”

Nick walked meekly behind Damian into the office, realizing that all of their scenes had so far taken place here. He wondered if he would ever see Damian’s home, and concluded that probably the older man didn’t want him prying into his private life. For some reason that thought upset him and he kept his eyes down, so that Damian couldn’t see the sudden tears he was trying to hide.

“Hands behind your back. Choose two.”

Nick surveyed the desk, where Damian had laid out a selection of implements. He shuddered; so far Damian had used only his hand. Now he was asking Nick to select from a crop, a whip, a strap, something with two tails, a paddle, and what he now knew was called a flogger. He shivered, wondering how each one would feel connecting with his arse.

“I don’t have all day. Choose or I’ll choose for you,” Damian said sharply.

Hesitantly, Nick asked, “May I point, sir?”

Realizing the boy didn’t know the names of everything, Damian said, “You may.”

The younger man pointed to the tawse and the crop.

“Good choices,” Damian said maliciously. “You’ll be feeling this for several days. You’ll be eating your breakfast standing up.”

Nick wondered what had happened to the man who had held him in the restroom, apologizing for scaring him.

“Pants down. Bend over,” Damian ordered. “You’re going to feel this tomorrow and the marks may last a couple of days.”

Hesitantly, Nick undid his pants, pushing them down to his knees, and bent over, feeling that his arse made far too conspicuous a target. He was nervous and his mouth was dry.

“Grab your ankles.”

Nick bent further and grabbed his ankles, feeling a twinge of discomfort in his hip. He tensed up, uncomfortably conscious that in this position, his cheeks were stretched to the point that his hole must be clearly visible to Damian.

He felt Damian place the crop on his backside, just touching it, as if trying to get the range. Suddenly his hip was seized with pain, and he let out a groan.

“Nick? Nicky!”

The young man dropped to his hands and knees, panting, with his head dropped to the carpet, trying not to scream with the pain.

Damian dropped the crop and knelt beside Nick in alarm, running a soothing hand over the trembling back. “What is it, babe? I didn’t even touch you!”

“My hip,” Nick groaned. “Muscle spasm.”

“Oh fuck,” Damian muttered. “Can you move?”

“No.” Nick gasped in pain.

“Okay, sweetheart. You just hang on. I’ll do all the moving; you just let me take control.”

Damian couldn’t tell whether Nick could even hear him; he was panting and sweat was pouring off him as he shivered, frozen in place on his hands and knees.

Damian ran for a blanket from the studio, spreading it over the leather of the couch. Then he gently lifted Nick’s body, straightening his back. He got the young man to his feet and lifted him in his arms, carrying him to the couch, laying him down on the unscarred side.

He hurried to the kitchen, nuking a microwavable heating pad and snatched up a towel while he waited for it to be ready.

He ran back to the office, wincing as he saw Nick’s shoulders shuddering as if he was crying. “Where does it hurt?”

“Scar,” Nick moaned. It was becoming harder to keep the tears in and he didn’t ever want to cry in front of Damian. He wanted Damian to think he was brave, even though he knew he wasn’t.

Damian put the towel over Nick’s hip and laid the heating pad on it carefully. Nick let his breath out on a low moan. Damian rubbed his shoulder comfortingly.

“Take it easy, babe. Try to relax.”

“I’m sorry—” Nick began, almost sobbing.

“Shhh, calm down, take deep breaths. Your hip will feel better if you can relax.”

“Is that an order, sir?” Nick whimpered.

Damian was startled, and then he laughed, unable to believe that Nick could still crack a joke when he was in such pain.

“Yeah, it’s an order.” He went to his private bathroom and got some lotion, warming it on his hands. He pushed up the ugly shirt and started to massage Nick’s lower back edging toward his hip, finding the knots of tension and working them out. He continued to stroke down the curve of the younger man’s hip, moving the heating pad and towel. The skin along the scar was hot from the pad and Damian dug his fingers in gently, listening to the gasps and moans as he loosened the tight muscles.

Nick sagged in relief and his fists unclenched as Damian’s hands worked their magic, releasing him from the prison of his rigid muscles.

Damian backed off on the pressure, merely stroking the slender back gently, offering what comfort he could to the boy. He heard the sigh of relief as Nick sagged even deeper into the couch.

“Okay, babe?”

“Yeah, I—I’m okay,” Nick said shakily. He tried to push himself up but Damian’s hand kept him pressed to the couch.

“Does this happen often? Do you have any pain pills?”

“Not too often. I have pills at my flat,” Nick said in an exhausted voice.

“Would you trust me with your keys so I can go and get them?” Damian asked anxiously.

“No, I’ll just go home. I don’t want to be a bother.”

“I’ll take you home. Let’s get you dressed. Let me do all the work; don’t try to sit up by yourself. You might tweak it again,” Damian ordered.

Nick was feeling rather limp and he was more than happy to allow Damian to maneuver his pants up. Damian hoisted him to his feet and slid an arm around his waist. How he managed the doors and locks, Nick didn’t know; he was too out of it to take notice.

The next thing he knew Damian had buckled him into his car and was getting in the other side.

“Nick? Nicky? I need to know where you live.”

Nick rested his head against the back of the seat and closed his eyes wearily. He hadn’t had an attack this bad in a long time. He managed to give his address before lapsing into a dazed state.

When he felt Damian searching his pockets for his keys, Nick realized the car had stopped.

“Right front pocket,” he whispered.

Damian found the keys and got out, locking the car. He hated leaving Nick there alone in a neighborhood renowned for being very seedy. From the look of the building it was unlikely that there was an elevator, and even though he was strong and fit he didn’t fancy carrying Nick up an unknown number of stairs.

He found Nick’s name on the mailbox and ran up the stairs two at a time, puffing by the time he reached the fourth floor. His instinct was right; he was not going to be carrying Nick up four stories. If worse came to worst, he would take the boy home with him.

He unlocked the door and stopped, appalled by the poverty that made the tiny flat cold and ugly. It was only a single room, with a bed and a tiny bathroom. No place to prepare food, no luxuries. Apparently Nick did not own a TV or radio, although he had a laptop. And he was a slob. Clothing covered every surface, mingled with books and papers.

Damian’s lips tightened; now was not the time, but he would make sure Nick changed that or they would never be able to live together in harmony. Fuck! Where had that come from?

Damian stood motionless in shock as he worried exactly when he’d decided that Nick would be moving in with him. Then he remembered that he had left the semi-conscious young man in the car and resumed his search. At least Nick had left his pills in a sensible spot, in the medicine cabinet.

Damian locked the door behind him and leaped down the stairs. He was relieved to see his car intact and Nick apparently asleep.

He got in quietly and started the car. Nick’s head rolled to the side and he opened his eyes to slits. “Find them?”

“Yes. See if you can get some sleep. We’ll be home in fifteen minutes,” Damian said soothingly.

Home. The words echoed in Nick’s groggy mind. It had a nice ring to it. He spent as little time in his flat as possible. He didn’t think of it as home; that was where his parents and his sister were, in the house where he grew up.

But if he wanted to study art he had to be in London, and his parents couldn’t afford to send him so finding this flat was actually a stroke of luck. It was cheap and it was close enough to school that he could walk, saving him the tube fare.

When Damian turned the car into the circular drive and slowed to a stop, Nick pried his eyes open to see a charming Tudor cottage, two stories with a garden that looked enchanting even under the moonlight.

Damian ran around the car, opening the door and extracting Nick from the seat. He pulled Nick’s arm over his shoulder and supported him to the door, unlocking it and kicking it open.

He guided Nick down a short hallway to a room with a fairly large bed. “I’m going to get you into bed. Let me do all the work, right?”

“Yeah.”

Damian lowered Nick down onto the bed and stripped him, making short work of it. He lifted the slight body to pull the covers out from under him and tucked him in. “I’ll be right back.”

He fetched a glass of water and sat on the bed, leaning back against the headboard. He raised Nick to lean him against his shoulder and gave him one tablet and the water.

Nick swallowed and let his head drop onto the comforting shoulder, nuzzling into Damian’s neck.

“Do you need two?” Damian questioned him.

“No,” Nick managed.

“Okay. I’m just going to lock up and I’ll be right back,” Damian said. He arranged Nick to recline comfortably and went to secure the car and house.

He grinned ruefully. He was about to violate one of his own rules—having someone sleep beside him in the same bed. He had taken Nick to his guest room; he hadn’t felt good about strong-arming him up the stairs to his own room, but he wanted to be sure that if the boy awoke in the night in pain, he was on hand to help.

Nick was asleep when Damian returned, only a faint line between his brows betraying the pain that still lingered. Damian wondered why he’d refused the second pill.

He undressed, slipping nude under the covers. Shifting in his sleep, Nick tried to get closer to the source of warmth. Carefully Damian pulled him closer, allowing the boy to nestle close and wrapping his arms around him.

Nick’s breathing slowed and Damian prepared for a very disturbing night.

 

 

Chapter 9

 

 

NICK SWAM to the surface with the typical hazy feeling he experienced after taking a painkiller. He also had to piss. Slowly, he pushed himself up to sit and squinted blearily. He didn’t recognize his surroundings, but dim light emanating from a partially open door reflected off a tile wall allowed him to deduce that was where the bathroom was. Nick slid out of bed cautiously and in stages, stretching his back with both hands clutching his hip, as if trying to hold himself together. He was a little stiff, but the pill had done its job.

He managed the short distance to the bathroom without trouble, and peed. While washing his hands, he looked at himself in the mirror; as was typical after a spasm attack he was pale, with purple shadows under his eyes. He lowered his head to drink directly from the faucet, and dried his hands and face on a towel when he was finished, still without recognizing his surroundings.

Walking a bit more easily now, he returned to the bed and slid under the covers, shivering a little from the cold air on his bare skin. The bed was nice and warm, and he snuggled closer to the center. He gasped with surprise when his hand brushed naked skin, and he sat up, his heart pounding in his chest.

In the gray light of dawn sneaking through the windows, he recognized that he was in bed with Damian. What had happened last night? Why was he in bed with the photographer? Self-consciously he tightened his arse, but nothing hurt so he concluded that they hadn’t fucked and Damian hadn’t spanked him either.

He sank down under the covers. It was chilly in the room and he had to assume, although he had no very clear remembrance of the night before, that Damian had gotten them both into the same bed and so presumably it would not surprise the older man to find him there.

As he cuddled closer, he realized that Damian was naked. He had never seen the other man naked before and Nick couldn’t resist. He lifted the covers to look and his cock hardened immediately at the sight of the older man’s body. “Fuck,” he breathed. His sculptor’s eye was delighted with the outline of Damian’s form: completely masculine, hard muscle, not an excess ounce of fat. Every angle elegantly chiseled, every flat plane distinctly male, the carved abdominal ridges, hard pectorals, long firm thighs, all were more than he’d could have dreamt. For a man older than he (all of thirty-two, had he but known it) Damian was in phenomenal shape.

Cautiously Nick touched the light covering of hair on Damian’s chest; it felt so different from his own hairless skin and he liked it. He ran a finger around one nipple, enthralled when he felt it harden in response. Drawing the finger down the dip in the center of Damian’s body, he skirted the crisp curls to detour to the pronounced line between the torso and top of Damian’s thigh, stroking along it to feel the tendons tense under his caress.

He looked up to find Damian’s eyes were open, watching him as he explored. “You’re so beautiful,” Nick breathed, unable to stop the utterance but unsure as to whether his behavior was acceptable.

“Thank you,” Damian said softly. “How do you feel?”

“A little stiff, but all right,” Nick responded guiltily, taking his hand away.

“Do you want to touch me?” Damian asked, without moving.

“Oh, yes,” Nick whispered.

“Go ahead.”

Nick leaned forward eagerly; it hadn’t sounded like a command at all, more like a request. He could hardly believe he was being given free rein to discover the other man’s body.

He inhaled, sniffing the clean, natural scent of the older man; there was something about Damian’s essence that made him feel safe. The first thing he wanted to do was dip his tongue into the hollow at the base of Damian’s throat; it had fascinated him since he’d first been hired. From there he explored the photographer’s neck and chest with lips and tongue, tracing the swell of each pectoral.

Damian arched under the slow journey, taking in a sharp breath as Nick’s mouth closed over his nipple, teasing him instinctively with little nips and slow, torturous circles around the aureole. He suppressed his urge to grab Nick’s head and guide his tour, controlling his movements; for some reason, it just felt right to allow the younger man the freedom to find his hot spots.

Nick experienced taking the lead for the first time in their relationship and enjoyed the voyage, sensing that he held the power of arousing Damian in ways that he didn’t fully recognize as yet.

He ran his tongue over the soft hair on Damian’s chest, moving downward toward the rigid shaft that lay on the older man’s stomach. He licked over the head and felt strong hands stop him.

Damian rolled Nick onto his back and smiled at him. “My turn.”

Holding the younger man in place, Damian explored the pliant body that lay under him with his mouth. He licked over the marks he’d made on the previous evening, soothing away any lingering sting. He didn’t regret making them; in fact the sight of them filled him with pride.

“So beautiful and all mine,” he murmured. He looked up to see the curve of pink lips, and the heavily lidded eyes, soulful with arousal and some softer emotion.

“Yours,” Nick echoed. He gasped when Damian’s mouth found his cock and swallowed him whole. He’d never felt anything like that and that was the last coherent thought he had, bucking wildly into the wet heat surrounding him.

Ever since their first encounter together, Damian had yearned for the taste of his young lover and now he indulged himself, licking, sucking, nibbling and nuzzling. He ran his tongue delicately along the underside of Nick’s cock, noting each spot that made the boy whimper and squirm. He sucked in his balls, one at a time, lavishing his tongue over each one until Nick couldn’t keep still. Finally Damian relaxed his throat and took the boy’s cock in to the root, his nose nuzzling the curls at the base. He allowed his throat muscles to work around the hard length, his hands holding the slim hips in place as Nick cried out and tried to thrust as he came, releasing himself into Damian’s mouth. At last Nick stopped moving, his chest heaving with exertion.

Damian smiled as he crawled up to take his lips in a tender kiss, sharing the flavor with his young lover. Nick opened his eyes and stroked Damian’s cheek.

“I want to be inside you, Nick, to take you completely and make you mine,” Damian whispered.

“Please… I want to feel you inside me,” Nick answered breathlessly.

Damian smiled to feel Nick widen his legs, welcoming him between them. “Your hip—are you sure you’ll be okay?”

“I’m sure,” Nick said, although his voice quavered uncertainly. “I’m just stiff.”

Damian groped and found the boy’s cock was more than half-hard again already, in spite of his release. “I guess you are,” he teased.

Nick laughed, and Damian delighted to hear the carefree sound.

Dropping a kiss on the laughing lips, he said, “It will be easier for the first time if you’re on your stomach. You can relax and let me do all the work.”

“Yes, sir,” Nick said acquiescently.

Damian kissed him one more time and carefully rolled him onto his stomach. He stroked the firm rounded buttocks with pleasure, enjoying the way his palms fit around the curved mounds. He tapped one gently, saying, “Lift up, babe.”

Nick raised his hips and Damian slid a pillow under him. “Okay?”

“Yeah,” came a sigh in response.

“I’ll go slow,” Damian promised, although the sight of the beautiful bottom just made him want to bury himself inside in one quick thrust. He pressed the base of his cock to slow himself down and resumed his sensuous massage.

He squeezed and molded the round globes, noting how Nick spread his legs wider in response, as if inviting him to have his way, which he fully intended to do. He allowed his thumbs to wander closer to the cleft with each pass, dipping further inside.

Nick moaned as Damian gently pulled his cheeks apart and brushed over his hole for the first time. He was grinding into the pillow beneath him and he felt his entrance throb with desperate anticipation, barely able to wait for a firmer touch.

Damian reached for the lube that he kept in every room of the house, chuckling inwardly at the forlorn hope that had led him to supply the drawer some years ago. His lack of sexual activity resulted in completely unused supplies; he just hoped condoms didn’t expire with age.

Slicking his fingers, he pressed one to the pulsing opening, feeling it yield to his pressure. He slowly slid his finger inside, feeling Nick spread his legs even wider to give him more access, lifting his bottom to meet his hand. He stroked the boy’s back with his other hand, soothing him through the first penetration.

Slowly thrusting his finger in and out, Damian bent to press his lips against the scar. “That’s right, open for me, baby. Open so you can take my cock inside your tight little hole. You look so beautiful, spread open for me, wanting me to take you.”

He withdrew to add another finger, easing inside as gently as he could. The boy was very tight and Damian knew that he was longer and thicker than average. His primal instincts had kicked in but he controlled them, not wanting to hurt Nick. He added yet another finger, twisting to find the sensitive center of the boy’s pleasure, stroking over it to see the slender body shudder in response to the delicate stimulation.

Damian pulled his fingers out and tore open the foil packet, smoothing the condom over his cock with trembling hands. He paused to squeeze the base again. The sight of Nick lying there spread open, his fists working in the sheets, his hole glistening from Damian’s preparation, was almost enough to make him come from his own touch. And he wanted to make this first time wonderful for both of them, to give Nick pleasure and to claim his mate.

Damian moved between Nick’s thighs, stroking the velvet skin as he bent to whisper again in his ear. “Submit to me, Nick. Take my cock deep inside you. Let me give you pleasure that you’ve never dreamed of. Let me claim you.”

Swept away with emotion and the physical sensations that only Damian could create with that commanding, husky voice, Nick gasped, “Take me, Damian… please… I want to feel you… claim me….”

Damian closed his eyes, almost overcome by the broken response. He claimed Nick’s lips with one last kiss and shifted to line himself up. Gripping the slender waist in his strong hands, he pushed, knowing that the first penetration of the head would be the hardest for the boy.

Nick cried out as he clenched automatically against the large intruder, and then surrendered to the older man’s greater strength. Finally the head popped inside and Damian paused, stroking his back soothingly.

It burned, and his guardian muscle cramped sharply as Nick struggled to relax.

“You’re so tight. So hot,” Damian crooned as he stroked the boy’s tense back. He could feel the moment of submission as he entered him, when Nick choked in a deep breath and forced himself to relax.

Damian started to rock his hips, slowly inching his cock into the hot, narrow sheath, holding onto his control by sheer willpower. “Talk to me, Nick. How does it feel?”

“So full,” Nick said in a tight voice. “There’s so much of you.”

“Yield to me, baby. Let me inside,” Damian ordered and his voice seemed to soothe the boy. He could feel the inner muscles ripple around him, almost pulling him deeper inside. The blazing heat of the channel gripping his erection sent sparks of fire dancing up his spine. He looked down to see Nick’s pink hole stretch around his cock, accepting him inside, and growled with dominance.

Once Nick had surrendered to the inevitable, the burning invasion melted into pleasure. He’d never realized he would feel so full, so complete with Damian buried deep inside him. It was as if a missing piece of the puzzle had fallen into place and he knew what he’d been yearning for, without ever realizing it. He sighed and relaxed even further as the brush of Damian’s cock over his prostate sent shivers of bliss throughout his body, his consciousness centered on that point of contact. Heat blossomed within him with each thrust as Damian drove deep inside him. Nick felt claimed, valued, as if he was precious in Damian’s eyes.

Unconsciously he ground his own erection into the pillow beneath his hips, raising his arse to meet each thrust. With every stroke, Damian brought him nearer to release until at last he cried out, his orgasm rolling through him, curling his toes and fingers with ecstasy.

Damian smiled as he felt Nick clench around him. He gripped the slender hips and hauled the boy to his knees, holding him there as he pounded into him, chasing his own release. He uttered a wild cry as he spasmed into the condom, wishing that he could plant his seed deep within the boy, but even without that, he owned Nick now. He thrust one last time, freezing in place as the last ripple of pleasure rolled through him.

He sank down, pushing Nick flat beneath him, taking pleasure in covering the slender, pliant body with his own. “Mine,” he growled softly and bit the velvet shoulder, but not hard enough to leave a mark. He had claimed the boy as his own; his mark was indelible now. He was satisfied.

Both men drifted off to sleep, Damian still buried deep within his boy.

 

 

NICK WOKE and felt around the cold sheets before his eyes were open. He wondered if he’d dreamt it, but he thought he remembered that Damian had fucked him. He flexed his arse and the soreness told him it was no dream.

He shifted in bed, wanting to just lie there and let his mind drift. He stretched on the luxuriously soft bed, wondering if Damian expected him to get up.

“Hey, Nicky,” Damian said, calling him again by the diminutive that only his mother and sister ever used. He came in bearing a tray, which he set on the bedside table. “How are you feeling?” he asked, feeling Nick’s forehead as if he’d had a fever.

“I’m fine,” Nick answered nervously, unsure as to how things stood between them now.

Damian went to the closet and retrieved an old plaid flannel shirt. “Slip this on, so you don’t get chilled. I brought you breakfast.”

Obediently, Nick pulled the shirt over his shoulders. Damian fluffed pillows, placing them against the headboard for the boy to lean against.

“What did you bring me?” Nick asked expectantly.

Damian chuckled. “Only coffee and toast. I’m afraid I don’t eat here very often and there isn’t much in the house.”

“That’s okay,” Nick said, sniffing deeply at the steaming cup that Damian handed him. He was surprised at the first sip to see that Damian had remembered how he took his coffee. He raised glowing eyes to the older man and accepted a slice of buttered toast.

They ate the simple meal in silence and Nick yawned when he was done. Damian took the empty cup from his lax fingers.

“How’s your hip?”

“It’s fine, Damian, really,” Nick said with a smile.

“Tell me why you only wanted one pill.”

“Two knock me out forever. One doesn’t work on the pain quite as fast, but it doesn’t leave me so groggy,” Nick explained. “And you rubbing my back so quick helped me relax, so it didn’t get as bad as sometimes.”

“Why don’t you go back to sleep and take it easy today?” Damian asked.

Nick yawned but shook his head. “I don’t want to be in your way. You must have things to do.”

There was no way that Damian could tell Nick how empty it made him feel to think of taking him home. He couldn’t admit that he would miss the boy, even to himself. “No, I plan to take it easy myself. Can I get you anything from your apartment?”

Nick blushed deeply, remembering the state he’d left it in. He’d been so anxious to see Damian lately that he hadn’t bothered to put anything away at all. “Uh, that’s okay.”

Damian laughed. “I’ve already seen the worst. If you wanted your laptop and a change of underwear….”

Nick turned redder. “I don’t think there is any clean underwear. But I could use my laptop.”

Damian kissed the silky curls. “Lie down and get some rest. I’ll be back soon.”

Nick slid down in the bed and snuggled against his pillow, feeling cared for. It was a nice feeling after being away from home for four years. He hoped… but then he pushed the thought away. Damian could never love him; he would just have to make do with what the photographer was willing to offer.

 

 

SUNDAY WAS a lazy day for both men. Nick slept most of the day and Damian kept tiptoeing to the doorway in his socks to watch him, not wanting to be caught. He told himself it was simply because the boy was so beautiful. The slight smile on Nick’s face as he hugged his pillow and restlessly moved his hips made Damian feel lonely somehow, no matter how he tried to talk himself out of it.

Whenever Nick sighed or turned in his sleep, Damian would run for it.

Between sightseeing excursions, he ran the washer, doing his own laundry and a pile of Nick’s that he’d gathered from every horizontal surface in the untidy apartment. He even folded it, smiling as he thought how the tables had been turned a bit. Here he was, the Top, doing chores for his sub.

When dusk’s shadows crept into the rooms Damian called for Chinese takeaway, ordering whatever he thought might tempt his boy.

 

 

MONDAY MORNING found Ashley tapping his foot impatiently, arms crossed as he leaned against the locked studio door.

When the lift doors opened, he started to drawl sarcastically, “So you finally decided to come to work. What’s wrong?”

Damian was walking slowly, his arm around Nick, who was still a bit stiff and limping. “Nick’s hip went out on him Saturday night, after we got back from dinner. He’s just a bit out of it. He had to take another pain pill this morning and I didn’t want to leave him alone.”

Ashley strode forward, holding his arms out. “I’ll take him; you open up.”

Damian grinned. “Nice try. Take the keys and unlock the door.”

Ashley grinned back. “It was worth a shot.”

Nick smiled groggily, not quite understanding the byplay between the two men. “Sorry, Ashley, I don’t think I can do much today.”

Ashley looked back over his shoulder. “Not a problem. We’ll work around you. Get some rest, lad.” By then he had the door open and the three men went inside, Damian leading Nick to his office. The blanket was still on the couch so he swept it back, settling the boy so he was on his side with a pillow under his head and another between his knees.

Damian bent to tuck the blanket around him. “Go to sleep, babe. Don’t worry about anything. We’ll be right outside if you need anything, okay?”

“Yeah,” Nick sighed, relaxing as his pill started to kick in again, once he’d stopped moving. He had hoped that perhaps Damian might want to fuck him again, but the older man had left him alone in the guest room last night after they had eaten dinner together.

After spending the solitary night tossing and turning, racking his brain to discover what he’d done wrong, or what he had left undone, Nick had finally awakened in the morning, twisted into an uncomfortable position with his hip sending warning signals to his brain.

Ashley watched as Damian ran his hand over the glossy curls. Nick’s eyes drooped shut and he fell asleep, obviously under the influence of whatever painkiller Damian had given him.

“Is he okay?” Ashley whispered.

Damian backed out, closing the door behind him. “He had some kind of accident, a few years ago. Had an operation and as far as I can tell, he’s mostly quite sound. I don’t know the whole story, but if he’s under stress or in the wrong position, apparently he has muscle spasms.”

“You need a nice spanking bench,” Ashley advised judiciously. “Padded surface, adjustable in height, sturdy ring bolts….”

Deciding attack was the best form of defense, Damian ignored this sage advice and asked, “How’re you getting on with Derek? Where is he?”

Ashley coughed and answered. “I sent him to the office for a few things. He’ll be here soon.”

“That wasn’t much of an answer,” Damian teased.

“We’re talking,” Ashley answered slowly. “Apparently Nick told him that he hadn’t given me much of a chance to explain myself. That he’d hurt my feelings by not trusting me to take things slowly.”

Damian was very amused. “Nick? Giving advice to Derek?”

“Well, whatever you’ve been doing to him, and I do still want details,” Ashley said, salaciously licking his lips, “it seems you at least have won his trust. I just hope you’re worthy of it.”

Damian turned away, pretending to inspect the display of whips. I hope so too, he thought.