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suitable target. Then, without warning, the paddle comes down, slamming the tip of Ted’s hard cock.
    “Just to show you what I think of your little weenie, cocksucker,” Larry mutters. “Just so you don’t get any ideas.”
    Ted gasps and bends forward, clutching his thighs. Tears well up in his eyes and run down his cheeks. His cock bobs and twitches in the air. A glob of semen squirts from the tip and lands on the floor with a splat. Almost coming, but not quite. He tightens every muscle, desperately holding back. Not yet. Not yet—
    And then the phone rings. Ted can hear it vaguely through the pounding in his temples, jangling softly in another room.
    Larry ignores it for a moment. He looks down at the glob of semen at his feet. “I’ll make you clean that up later, Teddy boy. With your tongue. While I’m fucking your ass.”
    Ted quivers. His cock throbs from the pain of the blow, his knees are wobbly from almost coming. Larry steps toward him and he flinches, expecting another blow. Instead, Larry hangs the paddle on his hard cock, using it like a peg; not looping the strap against the base of his cock, but hooking it just behind the ridge of the head. The paddle is heavy, but Ted’s cock is so hard it refuses to bend.
    “You stay just like that, cocksucker. I’ll take care of you when I get back. And don’t drop the paddle—unless you want me to get out the cattle prod.”
    And Larry leaves him like that—standing nude and erect at attention in the center of the room, with the paddle hanging from the head of his dick. Leaves him to answer the phone in the bedroom. Puts him in his place—not even important enough to let the phone call pass.
    The bedroom door is half shut. From the corner of his eye Ted can catch only a glimpse of Larry seated in a chair by the bed, the phone raised to his ear. He strains to listen.
    “Gary—hey man, how you doing?…Busy? Maybe. Got a cocksucker waiting in the other room—No, I’m not kidding you. Faggot neighbor of mine, I’ve told you about him—the peeping Tom—
    “Naked with a hard-on. I was just about to start paddling his ass—Sure, come on over. Be like old times—we’ll get out the cattle prod…”
    Ted catches his breath. Gooseflesh runs up his spine. He leans back and peers into the bedroom, unable to see Larry’s face. Spins his head around and stares at the door to the stairway.
    Now or never, while Larry is still on the phone. He could grab his shorts and pull them up, scoop his shirt off the floor, make a run for the door. Leave and never come back.
    Then he hears a soft ping. The click of the thermostat. The whole room seems to sigh as the air-conditioning comes on. The sudden change in pressure is just enough to push the bedroom door open another inch or two. Just enough to bring Larry’s face into view, along with Larry’s cock.
    Larry looks up. Sees him. And goes about his business, holding the phone to his ear in one hand, slowly stroking his cock with the other. Fully hard now. A club of naked flesh jutting up from his hips, glistening with spit. Larger than life, thicker than his stroking hand can encircle. Larry looks him in the eye and smirks—and the decision is made.
    Ted can’t stop himself. He doesn’t try. Keeping his eyes on Larry’s cock, he slowly drops to his knees, careful not to drop the paddle. He falls forward onto his hands and begins to crawl. He has to shuffle, his feet hobbled by his shorts. The paddle pulls against the head of his dick, knocks against his legs. It rattles against the tile floor, then falls silent as he crosses the threshold and crawls across the plush carpet toward Larry’s waiting dick. Larry speaks—“Yeah, see you here in fifteen minutes”—then hangs up the phone.
    Ted crawls. Closer and closer, until the big cock is only inches from his face. Larry tilts it down, aiming it toward his lips.
    Ted opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue, touches it against the smooth, blunt tip. Opens