“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’ brill
iant, 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.
Dreamspinner Press Year Three Greatest Hits Page 11
