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Power and pleasure put into perspective.

The idea raced through my mind; I tried to see clearly what this might mean, but I couldn't. I knew I enjoyed sex with him, and he knew where I was at with my sexuality. He had money that could buy a lot of interesting adventures, although I couldn't imagine what one of those might be right now.

"Okay, I am interested," I said nervously.

Paul leaned towards me and we kissed.

"So I am your Daddy now?"

"Yes, you are."

"Then call me 'Daddy'."

"Yes, Daddy." I felt my cock beginning to fill as I spoke the words. He kissed me hard and our tongues found each other.

"Okay, let's see if you get this. I have to go make a call; while I am gone, you are going to undress, put your clothes on the chair, and wait for me inn front."

"Okay." Playtime.

"Pardon me?" he said sharply. He tone wasn't rude or angry, just firm.

"Yes, Daddy."

Paul went down the hall to the bedroom. I pulsed my shirt over my head, unbuckled my pants, and pulled my pants and underwear down in one haul. I stepped out of my pants, removed my socks, and folded everything neatly into a pile, placing it on the chair as directed.

I stood there wondering what Paul had in mind for our evening. My cock hung semi-rigid in front of me as I repeated the name 'Daddy' in my head. I wanted to get this right.

Paul returned from his call. He had something black in his hand; he held it by a handle, but it was wider beyond his grip, at least six inches wide, and extended about 12 inches in length.

"So tonight we're going to see if this is going to work," he said. "I am your Daddy, and you've been bad. Those twenty guys that you let have their way with you, that was before I was your Daddy, but you need to understand how this is going to be."

My cock was rising, then I noticed it was a leather paddle of some kind in his hand. I got very nervous, but I was frozen. "Yes, Daddy, I was bad. I'm sorry." I was starting to freak a bit. My cock began to decline.

"Turn around and face the couch," he commanded. I complied.

"Lean forward and put your hands on the seat of the couch." I hesitated. "Do it or we're done, it's over."

"Yes, Daddy." I leaned forward as ordered.

"Open you legs a bit." I did as I was told.

I felt his hand caress my ass cheeks, one at a time, the felt his wet finger run down my ass crack and run across my sphincter. He paused on the button, gently pushing against it, but not into me. Then his hand was gone.

That's when the paddle came across both cheeks at once with a smack. An involuntary grunt escaped me. It hurt.

"I'm sorry Daddy," I tried. The paddle came down again on the same place. Another grunt, then I felt the heat of the stroke left behind by the paddle.

The next stroke came down only on my left cheek, and was followed closely by an identical stroke on the right. He repeated the strokes; first the left, then the right. Left, then right. They hurt, and every strike drew a whelp from me.

Both cheeks had started to burn. "Please, Daddy, I said I'm sorry," I tried again. I had tears in my eyes. I was rethinking this agreement.

His hand ran down my ass, between my cheeks and to my sphincter. He must have wet the finger with his saliva, because compared to my butt, his hand felt cool and wet against my crack.

"The first paddling is important," he said, leaning over my back as his finger played with the outside of my hole. "It's important because structure must be created, and because it might be the only paddling you get. Any paddlings after this are based on your ability to uphold our agreement; this one is to establish my control."

He stood up and brought the paddle across both cheeks. I whelped again, and he brought it down across both cheeks again. My butt was starting to either go numb, or I was starting to like it, because I realised my cock was hard and my balls were tight to my body. It hurt, but now it hurt good.

"You should appreciate what we're doing here. This will get us on the right track."

"Thank you, Daddy. You're right, Daddy, I want to learn."

The paddle came down o

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