A Strong Hand

best shot he'd ever taken, until he closed his eyes as ecstasy washed over him.

    * * * *
    Nick woke up with a start. The alarm hadn't gone off but he had. He smiled ruefully. After jacking off in the bathroom, he'd settled down to study, only to have to yank his mind back to his books every two seconds.
    Now he was lying in a puddle of his own rapidly cooling cum. And yet his cock was still half-hard.
    "Dude," Nick said out loud, but softly. "You're going to have to stop thinking about it."
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    A Strong Hand
    by Catt Ford
    Instead, he thought about it some more, his stomach fluttering with the thrill that rolled through him whenever he went over the entire afternoon, step by excruciating step. He thought he knew what he was doing when he took his clothes off. He was an art student, and he'd modeled for pay before; besides, he'd watched Damian at work, and the man never laid a hand on his models.
    It must be something about him, he thought miserably.
    Something that he didn't know about himself but that Damian could see that would make the man tie him up. No, not merely tie him, but put those leather restraints on his wrists, stretching him to trap him at the bar. And then the spreaders.
    The cold metal had contrasted with the enticing warmth of Damian's fingers, barely brushing his skin as he locked Nick into them.
    He rolled onto his knees. Without realizing it, Nick's left hand was fondling his balls as he stroked his cock with his right. He thought about Damian's hands on him, caressing his arm gently, and finally that strong hand chastising him with a hard swat to the arse.
    And then Nick cried out as he came yet again, arching his back so his throbbing backside was raised up, offered to the man he imagined to be standing behind him.
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    30

    A Strong Hand
    by Catt Ford

Chapter Two
    Ashley was impatient. "What, the little bugger didn't show up?"
    "No, and his agency can't seem to locate him. We'll have to book a different model," Damian said. He was a little distracted. Nicholas hadn't come in either, and he himself had had a restless night. Every time he tried to fall asleep, he'd found himself rolling over to turn on the light, gloating over the one print he'd made of Nicholas, staring at him in shock.
    He resolved that he would burn the negatives. After all, the young man hadn't agreed to this so it wasn't right for him to keep them. He would definitely burn them.
    Just not yet.
    "So who d'ya fancy? A blond, a brunet?" Ashley asked looking through a number of headshots. "We'll have to see them in person, won't we?"
    "Of course. You never can tell from their card. Hell, they even lie about their measurements," Damian said.
    "They list their measurements?" Ashley asked with excitement, peering at the card.
    "Height and weight, Ash, not length," Damian said with a smirk.
    He turned at a slight creak of the door. Nicholas was standing there, neatly placing his backpack in a corner, out of the way.
    "Hi, Damian, Mr. Winthrop. Do you want a coffee?" he mumbled, looking at the floor. He didn't dare look at 31

    A Strong Hand
    by Catt Ford
    Damian's face, for fear the other man would make fun of him.
    Or even worse, Damian might know just by looking at him that he had spent the entire night jacking off thinking about him ... and, even more humiliating, doing things to him.
    "Yes, please, go down and get three, and some muffins,"
    Damian said happily, handing over some money.
    "Latté for me," Ashley piped up. "Large, cinnamon—"
    "I remember, Mr. Winthrop. Large, cinnamon decaf, whipped cream, nonfat." Nick took the bill, carefully not touching Damian's fingers, and vanished to the café that his employer favored.
    Ashley looked after Nicholas in disbelief and then at Damian, who was grinning stupidly after his assistant. "What did you do to make him behave?"
    "Oh, I just gave him a little spanking," Damian said.
    Ashley laughed heartily. "If only, but in this day and age of lawsuits, we can't do that to employees anymore. Pity, really.
    Lots of boys would be improved by a strong hand. Well, whatever you said to him, it seems to have worked."
    Damian laughed, wondering what Ashley would say if he knew what had really happened. "Brunet," he said.
    "What, what—oh, the model. Yes, I tend to agree, except for some of these black leather bits. They always go better on a blond," Ashley said, bending his head to scrutinize the cards again.
    "I was thinking of maybe using Nicholas for a few