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His nipples tingle and tighten, drawing up stiff and erect.
    He swallows hard and undoes the clasp of his loose, baggy shorts, feels them slide down his legs and pool around his ankles.
    He glances down at his crotch. His cock is hard as a bone inside his underwear, impossible to hide; a peanut compared to the bulge in Larry’s pants. He takes a shallow breath and bends over, slipping the underwear down his thighs, feeling his cock snap up against his belly, feeling the cool, refrigerated air of the room on his naked ass. For a moment he stays like that, bent double with his ass in the air, staring at the tops of Larry’s boots, feeling somehow hidden and safe. Then he slowly straightens up, exposing himself to Larry’s stare.
    For a long moment Larry just sits in the chair and looks at him. Watching Ted’s chest rise and fall, unable to catch a breath. Watching his hard cock bobbing and twitching in time with his heartbeat. Ted glances into his eyes for instant, then looks away. Larry’s eyes give back nothing—no approval, no desire, not even curiosity.
    Ted suddenly feels ridiculous, ashamed of his nudity. His body is still a boy’s body, shapeless and soft in the places where Larry bulges with muscle, small and stunted in the parts where Larry is so big and hard. He’s embarrassed to have Larry see his cock, such a tiny, useless thing compared to the truncheon of meat between Larry’s legs. What pleasure could Larry have in looking at his naked body, when Larry is so perfect and Ted is so plain?
    Of course Ted knows why Larry is interested in him. Because Ted is a cocksucker and a faggot. Because Ted has a tight ass and a cock-hungry mouth, two holes that Larry can use any way he wants to make his big dick feel good.
    Larry gets up from the chair and slowly circles him. Ted can hear the click of his boots against the hard tile floor. He imagines he can feel a touch on his ass and flinches, then realizes it’s only his imagination, raising goose bumps on his flesh. Larry’s voice is warm and moist in his ear.
    “Seems to me I told you a while back to start calling me sir. Seems to me you haven’t been doing what I told you to. Seems to me you’ve been a bad little faggot. What do you say, Teddy boy—you been a bad little faggot?”
    Ted screws up his face and pouts his lips. “Yes. Yes, sir.”
    “That’s right. Cocksuckers who wanna see my big dick call me sir. You still wanna see my dick, Teddyboy? Maybe touch it with your tongue, huh? Maybe hold it in your mouth? Find out if your jaw can open wide enough for me to cram the whole fucking thing down your throat?”
    The room is spinning. “Yes, sir.”
    “Then I’m gonna have to punish you first.” Larry steps in front of him, reaches over, and takes the paddle from the wall. Plants his booted feet far apart. Grabs the zipper at his fly and slowly pulls it down. The zipper reaches bottom, Larry wiggles his hips, and the big cock comes tumbling out.
    Ted sucks in his breath. He had thought that Larry’s cock was already fully hard, but that was only an illusion, because of the size. Fully stiff, the tight jeans could never have accommodated it. It hangs from the fly of Larry’s pants, not hard but not soft either; plump and rubbery, drooping slightly, thick as a cucumber.
    Larry stands before him. Chest glazed with a thin sheen of perspiration. Arms at his sides, the paddle dangling from his right hand. His fly undone, his cock exposed, his open jeans clinging tight to the big muscles of his ass and thighs.
    He catches Ted staring at his dick. “What do you say, cocksucker? You think it’s worth twenty big ones from the paddle?”
    Ted shudders. His hands latch on to his thighs, digging in with his fingernails to try to stop the shaking. His voice breaks, starting with a croak and ending in a whine. “Yes, sir.”
    Larry nods, slapping the paddle against the palm of his hand. His eyes rake over the nude body before him, as if searching for a