A Strong Hand

through his fingers, Ashley had recognized a fellow Dominant.
    He had no desire to feel the bite of the whip himself, although he found the photographer extremely attractive, but he greatly desired to see Damian in action, with a slender submissive body drooping in front of him, eagerly surrendering to whatever delicious punishment he was sure Damian could devise.
    Damian returned to his stance behind the camera, completely oblivious to the other man's train of thought as he took the shot. He was somewhat pleased with it. He wasn't sure it was the best he could do, but at least it was a starting point.
    "I don't know why you badgered me into this," Damian grumbled, pushing back his shoulder-length hair while still looking through the viewfinder. "I've got to be at least twice as expensive as any product photographer, and three times as slow."
    "Four times slower and five times more costly," Ashley said gleefully, rubbing his hands together. "I've worked it all out, Ian, but the cost-benefit ratio is on my side."
    He couldn't see the photographer's face, hidden behind the curtain of his glossy hair, but that wasn't where he was looking anyway. Damian really had a lovely body: broad shoulders, narrow waist, and quite a fine arse, if he did say so himself. Ashley knew that he would never get his hands on it, but a man could dream, couldn't he? Although the charm of 8

    A Strong Hand
    by Catt Ford
    demanding the submission of another man would be lost with Damian, Ashley still rather fancied him. Holding him back was the fact that he was not at all sure that he might not end up in the encounter with his own arse in the air, awaiting either the kiss of the whip or the surge of what looked to be a massive cock, if Damian's package was anything to go by.
    "How can that possibly be a good thing?" Damian asked, exasperated by his own slowness. His standards were incredibly exacting but ordinarily he didn't have a client hanging over his shoulder; he simply worked out his own vision to his satisfaction.
    "Not only will people in the lifestyle be fighting to get their hands on this catalog, they will pay for them," Ashley said.
    "And they'll buy. Those handcuffs have been a staple in my line for over five years and even my mouth is watering over them. I would buy them from me right now, if I had someone to put them on."
    Damian laughed. "Surely you have someone awaiting your
    ... kind attentions." His eyes raked insolently over Ashley's body.
    The tawny-haired man shivered under the intense scrutiny of an alpha Top, but the little smile that curled his lips didn't change; Ashley was experienced enough to know how to stand his ground.
    "I can't imagine that you haven't ... ahem ... tested these items thoroughly before offering them for your customers'
    consideration."
    Ashley grinned, his teeth gleaming white under the modeling light. "I know what they're all used for, yes."
    9

    A Strong Hand
    by Catt Ford
    "I'll bet you do." Damian smirked, before going back to concentrate on his shot. He was perfectly aware that Ashley was an enthusiastic player, not merely a dabbler who sold toys. Not that Damian himself played anymore; he'd grown weary of demanding subs who misbehaved in order to earn whatever punishment they desired. He'd decided that empty was better than half full and had lived a celibate life in the five years since he'd come to live and work in London: ironic for a man who made his living creating erotica. An irony that he fully appreciated, but by now he had convinced himself that he was more suited to the purer gratification to be derived from the visual stimulation provided by his models.
    At that moment, Nick pushed the studio door open, letting the light pour in just as Damian was about to release the shutter.
    "Fucking hell, Nicholas, can't you remember to knock?"
    Damian snapped without looking up.
    Nick pushed the door shut hurriedly, irked at being berated when the studio lights were still on anyway; he'd checked for the sliver of light under the door, not that he was going to mention that. In a sullen voice, he asked, "Just wanted to know whether you wanted your tea now."
    Ashley watched with interest as the boy's velvety dark eyes flicked nervously between the photographer and the glittering handcuffs, displayed like a jewel on a bed of soft dark feathers.
    "Turn off the modeling lights, Nicholas."
    Dragging his feet, the tall, slender young man made his way to the power pack, crouching beside it to press