Dreamspinner Press Year Three Greatest Hits

by Jenna Hilary Sinclair

  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.r />
  “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.