The reality, needless to say, caused the fantasy to pale in comparison.In my fantasy, it was exciting, arousing, sexy…appealing. I wasn’t feeling ...roused or sexy now. Just afraid — terrified, actually, as I started to comprehend how much this was going to hurt. It hardly seemed possible that the paddle could hurt so much.I felt the sting, the incredible sting, of the paddle’s bite as it repeatedly made contact with my bottom. Over and over, one cheek to the another and then low-center — my ‘sit. It was very humid and he was wearing baggy shorts and an open shirt. He was very polite - spoke Cantonese fluently (my English was not so good then) and carried my bag through to my bedroom for me. I unpacked a few things – when I went back to the living room he was sitting on the couch. I’m sure he didn’t realize – but the first thing I saw was that he had no pants underneath the shorts and his (what looked to me massive) balls were clearly visible down the lose legs. I’d known for a. More

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