A Strong Hand (23 page)

Nick closed his eyes against the sting of his tears. "You are my master."

Damian's hand cupped his chin. "I will never hurt you, do you hear me? Never."

"I know," Nick said very quietly.

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Damian turned away and took a breath. When he turned back, he was smiling, and the devilish smile that told Nick he was in for a ride.

"Right then, pet, strip for me."

Nick ripped off his clothing and dropped to his knees automatically, clasping his hands behind his back. His cock stood out, pointing at Damian, straining at the master of his pleasure.

"So beautiful," Damian murmured. He stroked Nick's throat, circling it with his hands. "This is yours now," he said and brought the soft red collar out of his pocket, buckling it snugly around the slender throat. He attached a leash to the buckle. "Up now, pet."

Nick rose to his feet, keeping his hands clasped behind him, following Damian out into the studio.

Damian led him to the spanking bench and detached the leash, urging the boy closer to the bench. He widened Nick's stance with his booted feet and bent to strap the sub's ankles into cuffs attached to the bench legs.

He stroked over the boy's buttocks gently. "So beautiful, my pet." Damian went to a nearby table, where he'd laid out various implements of punishment but returned with only a cock ring. "I think we'll have this on until I permit you release."

A hand on the middle of his back pushed Nick flat, so that his chest was supported by the padded surface.

"Give me your wrists."

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Silently Nick held his hands up, allowing Damian to stretch them out onto the padded armrests, attaching his cuffs to the ring bolts.

Damian ran his hands over Nick's naked back, lightly caressing the taut muscles flexing slightly under smooth skin.

He felt every bump of the boy's spine, almost overwhelmed by the perfection given into his control. He cupped both buttocks in his palms, feeling like offering a prayer to whatever deity had created such beauty.

And then he stepped back, breaking contact between them.

"And now, my pet, allow me to further your education."

Damian selected a light flogger, with strands of suede. "Pain and pleasure are balanced on the edge of a knife, different sides of the same blade. London is your safe word, but you need another word. If you want me to slow down or change what I'm doing, what will you say?"

"Yellow, sir," Nick said, his voice trembling his body was shaking so.

"Yellow for slow down, London for stop. Don't forget."

Stepping away from the bench, Damian extended his arm and swung the flogger to get a feel for its balance. Nick flinched as he heard the hum of the strands singing through the air, but felt nothing.

"This is a flogger, pet. I think you'll enjoy this," Damian purred.

He swung it and watched the strands land with a dull thud on the firm buttocks.

"It's soft, sir," Nick said, surprised.

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"Yes, pet. I'm going to warm you up a bit."

The flogger came down repeatedly, the strands just caressing Nick's skin. He could feel a tingle start to warm his arse.

Damian aimed several blows at Nick's back, listening for the pleasurable hiss of the sub's breath as they landed.

Damian stepped forward and ran his hand over the pale skin that had started showing a little pink. He caressed Nick's ass gently.

"This one is a bit heavier," Damian said. He picked up a medium flogger, applying a steady rain of light blows that made the boy's buttocks flush a hotter pink. Damian ran his hand over the warm skin, assuring himself that Nick was okay.

Nick was floating in a sea of sensation, the nerves in his arse dancing. It barely stung; Damian had spanked him harder than this, but the sensuous assault was warming his bottom most pleasurably. His balls were full and aching, his cock hard, demanding release from its leather prison.

Damian smiled at the slight movement of Nick's hips.

Bound as he was, and spread for his master's pleasure, he didn't have much freedom of movement, and the cock ring would prevent early release in any case.

He picked up a riding crop and flicked it through the air.

Nick flinched involuntary at the cutting sound it made.

"This is a riding crop, pet. We'll see how you like this one."

"Yes, sir," was all the boy said. Damian smiled at the fear in his voice. One last pat on the upturned waiting bottom and he stepped back.

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Nick tensed, awaiting a slash, but instead he felt a sharp nip, as the end of the crop was flicked against his arse. Tiny smarting stings landed all over his ass, making his cheeks warm with a slow burn that reached lazily for his groin. He gasped as the pain turned to pleasure, when Damian ran his hand over his heated skin.

"A little harder this time," Damian said. He positioned himself carefully and landed a sharp blow in the middle of the firm flesh.

Nick yelped as a line of fire erupted across his arse, setting him ablaze. It hurt and yet he wanted more; he panted as the endorphins kicked in and a rush of adrenaline shot through him, as if he'd just run five miles. He dreaded the next sharp strike and yet he yearned for it, lifting up to meet it. Damian laid it precisely above the first, listening for the purring cry of the sub.

He was sweating now, as was the boy, glowing under the light, with two red welts across his bottom.

"One more, pet."

Nick's muscles flexed in anticipation, but Damian waited until the boy had relaxed before he struck the third blow, catching him on the under curve of his backside. Nick jumped and cried out, his voice a curious mix of pain and ecstasy.

The pain rolled through his body like waves, in ever-diminishing intensity, the burn melting into the most exquisite pleasure. He hummed, flying on a pain-induced high that thrummed throughout his body.

Damian caressed the welts with his fingertips, dragging his nails lightly over the abused flesh. Nick wriggled and sighed.

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"What do you want now, my pet? Tell me!" Damian commanded.

"Please, let me come, sir," Nick begged, his voice husky.

He bucked slightly when he felt something wet and warm trace the lines of fire across his arse, finding his valley and sliding downward to his pulsating hole. He moaned incoherently, unable to do much more than raise his arse slightly.

Warm hands held his hips, fingers digging into his flesh while Damian's tongue found his opening, licking it softly.

Nick had never felt anything to match the feeling and he pleaded for more inarticulately, his voice more of a keening song than anything.

The tongue probed at his hole, pushing at the tight ring, and Nick felt himself yield under the tender invasion. The slick muscle of Damian's tongue entered him, delicately penetrating and exploring, flicking in and out.

Cool slippery fingers smoothed gel over the burning welts on his bottom, sliding to his hole and pushing inside next to the tongue, twisting and opening him. He had nothing to do but submit, bound as he was.

He felt Damian's fingers on his inner thighs, sliding up to cup his balls and caress them. And then something large and blunt, pressed to his opening, stretching his hole to his limit.

Nick surrendered to the invasion, feeling the hands that controlled his pleasure and his pain moving over his body, finding his cock, holding it.

Damian entered his boy slowly, pushing all the way in, and withdrawing with equal slowness, until only the tip was held 220

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inside by the tight opening. He thrust hard then, sliding back in one powerful glide.

Nick was moaning constantly, unaware that he was making a sound. He struggled to impale himself, pulling against his restraint, not wanting to free himself but rather to feel the reassurance of the bonds that anchored him. The pain was but a burning memory now, drowned in the pleasure that flooded his body. He was flying, higher than Damian had ever taken him before, a slave to the cock driving inside him. A touch of that shaft brushing over the seat of his pleasure drove his orgasm to blossom slowly inside him. He was so relaxed, he didn't strain for it; he allowed it to come to him, slowly building until the crescendo of ecstasy echoed through his body like an unearthly note of music.

Damian released the ring of leather from around his cock, and Nick convulsed as he felt the surge of his master's release inside him, even through the condom. And then he was falling into darkness with an orgasm more intense than he had ever experienced.

* * * *

Damian collapsed, sweaty and panting for air over the slender body beneath him. Nick had clenched around his cock with such power that he'd had no control over his own climax, helplessly pouring his seed within the boy as they came at the same time. The warmth of the body under his, pliant and supple, was comforting as he floated in his own post-orgasmic haze.

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He stroked the boy's slender flank, his palm cupping the curve of Nick's scarred hip, thinking,
The conquerer and the
conquered, but who is playing which role?

He stood up, pulling his cock free from the unconscious boy and disposing of the condom. Quickly Damian released the cuffs and caressed the beautiful face, lips curved in a satisfied smile while Nick's chest fluttered shallowly with each breath he took.

Damian picked the boy up and carried him to the office, wrapping him in a soft blanket and holding him in his arms, rocking Nick as he drifted in the afterglow.

Nick opened his eyes and smiled sweetly.

"Flying high, baby?" Damian asked softly.

"Oh, yeah," Nick purred and snuggled closer. "I've never felt anything like that."

Damian said simply, "I'm glad."

"Thank you, sir," Nick sighed.

"Nicky, the scene is over. I'm Damian and you're Nick now," the older man said, cuddling his boy.

"Thank you anyway, Damian," Nick said drowsily.

"Come on, baby. Let's get you dressed and home," Damian said, raising Nick to a seated position.

Nick winced as his backside met the couch. "Ow."

Damian chuckled, amused. "You've got three beautiful welts to remember me by."

"No danger of me forgetting you." Nick shifted to lean on the arm of the couch, exploring the raised flesh gingerly with his fingertips, a bemused expression on his face. "Why did I agree to this again?"

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Damian turned his face, holding his chin in place while he gazed deep into his eyes. "To live on the edge, Nicholas. Isn't that what you've always wanted? To feel the rush, the thrill of fear, that moment when pain turns to pleasure and you're free."

"I was free," Nick said slowly. "I was tied down and completely at your mercy, and yet I was free."

"That's why we both do it," Damian whispered and kissed him.

Nick clung to the older man, sensing the desperation in his kiss. He tried to reassure Damian with the fervency of his response, ending up straddled on Damian's lap when the heated kiss ended.

"I'll never hurt you, baby," Damian said, caressing the sculpted cheekbone.

"I know," Nick whispered.

* * * *

Damian had led the trembling young man into the restroom and applied a cooling gel to his backside, before helping him dress.

The adrenaline rush abandoned Nick, leaving him drowsy.

Damian was afraid of his own impulses; it would be far safer for him to simply put the boy on the train and send him home, but somehow he needed to feel that warm body wrapped safely in his arms tonight.

And on a practical note, Damian wanted to make sure there were no aftershocks, physical or emotional. So he took Nick to his home once again and into his bed.

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He made Nick drink a glass of orange juice and soothed the welts with gel once more, before leading him to the bedroom. Nick accepted all of his orders, cuddling close as soon as Damian was under the sheets with him, falling asleep easily, feeling safe and secure in the older man's embrace.

Damian smiled at the irony; Nick had complete faith in him.

So why couldn't he trust himself?

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Chapter Twelve

Nick opened his eyes to see Damian, his head propped on his hand, leaning on his elbow, watching him with a smile. He smiled back and stretched, wincing when his sore ass flexed against the mattress.

"Ow."

"One to ten, how much does it hurt?"

"Maybe a two," Nick hazarded.

Damian smiled smugly. "Damn, I'm good. Probably won't even bruise."

"You're fucking kidding me," Nick exclaimed. "I probably won't be able to sit down for a week!"

Damian laughed. "Go check yourself out."

Maneuvering carefully and groaning loudly with every twinge, Nick made it out of bed and went into the bathroom, turning to look over his shoulder, trying to see his arse.

Damian came in after him, saying, "Very dramatic, but I happen to know that it doesn't hurt
that
much. Here, look."

He opened the door to the linen cupboard, revealing a full-length mirror on the inside. Nick studied the pink lines on his arse, looking absurdly proud of himself.

Damian stepped in front of him, their bodies just touching, and drew a finger lightly over each welt. "Swelling's going down; you'll be fine tomorrow. Not a mark. If you had paler skin, you might have bruised, but I wouldn't have whipped you the same way."

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Nick took a tiny step forward, sliding their chests together seductively. Damian circled his arms around his boy, and Nick slid his hands over the older man's muscled shoulders. Their lips met in a languorous kiss and Nick could feel his cock start to harden. The hands that had hurt him last night were sliding over his back, pulling him closer, the restraint holding him in place made of flesh and bone this morning rather than leather, the touch even more welcome.