Dreamspinner Press Year Three Greatest Hits

by Jenna Hilary Sinclair

  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.