Dreamspinner Press Year Three Greatest Hits

by Jenna Hilary Sinclair

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

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

  “I don’t know, dude, and it makes me think twice about what I’m doing with Ashley,” Derek said, giving no details. Nick was afraid to ask, and besides, he wasn’t ready to swap confidences.

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

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

  “I can e-mail them to you if you’d prefer,” Damian said.

  “Yes, do, and copies to Ashley as well. They’re numbered, correct?” Crispin checked the back of several prints. “Great. Then when we talk on the phone, we’ll all be on the same page. And now, would you care to join me for dinner? Your boys, too, of course.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Yes, Master,” came the subdued voice.

  Crispin walked away from the man bent over the table. Taking three running steps forward, he struck Eddy’s arse with a mighty wallop. Eddy gasped, but made no other sound.

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

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

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

  “Are you all right?”

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

  Damian stepped closer, noting the boy’s flinch, but wrapped his arms around him anyway. “Eddy is a slave, Nick. It’s a very different thing from what we’re doing. Eddy is a troubled man; he drank, did drugs, and got into fights. He bratted his way through practically every Dom at the club Crispin belongs to, until he took Eddy in hand. Eddy needs someone to master him, force his submission. That’s how he finds peace.”

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

  “And it wouldn’t be for you. It is for him. It’s his choice, you know.” Damian wondered how he could explain it. “Remember how you felt Saturday night?”

  Nick nodded dumbly.

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

  “Are you saying… Eddy wanted to be… to be… caned in front of all of us?”

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

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

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

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

  “Home, please, I think,” Nick said, closing his eyes briefly. He was hoping that he hadn’t just caught a glimpse of his own future.

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

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

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

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

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

  Damian sighed. “Talk to me, Nick. Don’t just shut me out.”

  Nick shook his head. “I can’t right now. I have to think.”

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

  Nick’s cold hand sought Damian’s. “I know. And thank you for bringing me home.”

  “See you tomorrow?” Damian asked hopefully.

  “I have school tomorrow. Thursday,” Nick said.

  For a moment Damian feared that he would get out without even a kiss, but Nick turned and kissed him briefly. Then he was out of the car, running up the stairs of his building two at a time.

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

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

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

  He wondered….

  DAMIAN HAD called Nick several times during the day, but the younger man had never answered his phone. So his anxiety was assuaged when Nick showed up for work as usual on Thursday.

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

  “I’m sorry, Damian,” Nick apologized. “I just… it was just so… I don’t know.”

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

  “What did he say?”

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

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

  “Everyone doesn’t know, but people in this lifestyle do,” Damian said. He sighed, wondering how to explain it. “There’s just a look in a sub’s eyes. I guess if you’re interested in finding one, you start to recognize them. There weren’t that many clubs not so long ago, so you had to be able to spot them.”

  “Would you cane me?” was the next unexpected question.

  Damian gasped and said, “No! Not like that!”

  “You don’t know how?”

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

  “You’re saying I’m not tough?” Nick challenged him, his arms crossed.

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

  “I want to feel it. I want to feel what the worst is like,” Nick said stubbornly.

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

  “I promised I would never hurt you—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  He felt the cane tap his arse lightly, as if Damian was measuring the distance. He realized suddenly that usually the older man touched him elsewhere on his body before spanking him, but this was not playing.

  First he heard the whistle of the cane cutting through the air, and then the stunningly agonizing pain when the cane cracked across his behind. All the air rushed out of his lungs and he reared up silently, hands still gripping the table, frozen with pain. He gasped and the air suddenly returned to his lungs, making his chest heave frantically. Slowly he toppled back onto the table, panting and sweating.

  Nick wanted to use his safe word, but he felt honor-bound not to, after forcing Damian into this, and Damian had said he would be getting three. Nick shivered as the pain seemed to multiply, radiating through his body until he was just one giant ache. He didn’t think he could take two more.

  The silence was almost more torture than another stroke would have been. He heard the noise and flinched, before he realized that he hadn’t felt anything.

  Damian dropped the cane and bent over his boy, his tears falling onto Nick’s shirt. “I can’t do this, Nicky. This isn’t what I’m about.” He placed his hand gently on the small of Nick’s back. “I’m sorry, I never meant to hurt you.”

  Nick went limp at the comforting touch and he started to tremble, but there were no tears in his eyes as he painfully pushed himself up. “I’m sorry, Damian. I shouldn’t have made you do that.”

  Damian pulled him into a tight embrace. “I was so afraid of what was going on in your head. I’ve never let a sub push me like that. I promise if you ever try that again, I’ll spank you until you won’t sit down for a week, you’ll be so sore. But no canes.”

  “I won’t, I won’t,” Nick whimpered. “I don’t know what got into me….”

  Damian rubbed the abused bottom soothingly. “Let’s get some gel on this. I should have forced you to talk to me. I should know what’s going on in my sub’s head.” With a sudden flash of intuition, he said, “You were afraid that you’d like it.”

  “Not just that, the humiliation, the way Crispin pushed him around….”

  Damian was shaking his head. “Not for me. I don’t go for public or private humiliation. I’m a Top. I want a sub, not a slave.”

  “What’s the difference?”

  “Come home with me so I can take care of you, Nicky,” Damian murmured, holding his boy tight. “I’ll try to explain it.”

  “Okay,” Nick said on a sigh. It felt so good to be in Damian’s arms again.

  NICK LAY on his side. He squeaked as Damian’s hand smoothed more gel onto his sore bottom.

  “Serves you right,” Damian said with a grin. “I didn’t even hit you as hard as I could. That was only half speed.”

  “And Crispin ran at Eddy,” Nick groaned. “How could he take it?”

  “Nick, this is not a competitive sport, with medals for the one who takes the most pain. Eddy is not you, and you don’t have to withstand the same kind of treatment he can take. He has demons that seem as if they can only be silenced by the punishment that Crispin metes out to him.”

  “You’d think he’d just go to therapy.”

  “He does,” Damian said, and grinned at the look of astonishment on the boy’s face. “There are therapists who understand the lifestyle and Crispin sends him to one. But it seems like the pain from the caning releases the emotions that build up inside him. You probably should have come to dinner with us.”

  “Did Crispin tell you all this?” Nick demanded.

  “No, Ashley did. Later. But Eddy was perfectly well-behaved afterwards. He’s actually a pretty likable guy.”

  “How did Derek take the whole thing?”

  “Wide-eyed and taking it all in,” Damian laughed. “I happen to know that Ashley has promised him that he’s not looking for a slave either.”

  “Good.” Nick sighed in relief. “I’m not sure I’d want to think about that.”

  “Actually,” Damian said, leaning over to brush a kiss on Nick’s forehead, “I think it’s terribly bad-mannered to visualize other people’s sex lives, so no more of that. I think you need a nap anyway, pet.”

  “Yes, sir,” Nick said and yawned. He smiled sleepily. “I guess I should have talked to you.”

  “Yes, you should. Now go to sleep, baby. We’ll talk more later.” Damian ran his fingers through Nick’s curls, knowing how the sen
sation put him to sleep.

  He sat and watched the younger man sleep, wondering if what had just happened between them would inevitably spell the end of everything.

  Chapter 14

  NICK ROLLED onto his back and groaned. His arse was on fire and he suddenly remembered why.

  Damian came into the room and pulled back the curtains, letting the golden afternoon sun pour in. Nick squinted at him and asked, “Why does every muscle in my body hurt?”

  “You were bracing on that table as if a tsunami was going to hit you,” Damian said cheerfully, turning him onto his stomach and tracing the single line that colored his butt. “This one is going to bruise. I’m sorry, baby. I should never have done it.”

  Nick felt terribly guilty. “It was my fault, Damian. You would never have done it if I hadn’t been acting so—”

  “Stupid?”

  “Well, yeah,” Nick said reluctantly.

  Damian grabbed the tube of gel and started applying it. Nick sighed with relief.

  “Listen, Nick. I’m a Top, a Dom. I like to play with a sub, play being the operative word,” Damian started. He rubbed the excess into his hands and got onto the mattress, lying on his back. Nick crawled over to rest his head on Damian’s chest, wanting his arms around him.

  “You are a sub, and not a slave,” Damian continued. “I could require that you were always naked in my presence, on your knees, and that you never speak without my permission, but that’s not the way I like to play. I also told you that I don’t tolerate a sub who tries to tell me what to do to him. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, sir,” Nick said softly, snuggling into the security of Damian’s embrace.

  “I have never hit anyone while I was angry but I came dangerously close today,” Damian admitted. “And that’s not safe. I’ve told you that you don’t know enough to set limits for yourself. This isn’t a contest where you have to compete with someone else’s sub to get my attention. I want to teach you what you need to know; that way you’ll never get into trouble.”