A Strong Hand

"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.
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    A Strong Hand
    by Catt Ford
    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 59

    A Strong Hand
    by Catt Ford
    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.
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    A Strong Hand
    by Catt Ford
    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