Mistaken By Daddy Ch 01

David stepped into the plush lobby of the House of Ex, feeling perfectly at ease. He'd been attending this exclusive club for a couple of years now, just once every few months, and it had quickly become the highlight of his sex life. It was difficult to go back to the dating scene or his on-and-off-again girlfriend (of exceedingly vanilla tastes) when a reliable and completely satisfying experience waited for him here.

It wasn't cheap, either, but he could afford the best. Ever since his last promotion, the exorbitant membership fee that came with the House of Ex was next to nothing to him, and well worth it.

He was greeted at the desk by a woman he recognised, her auburn hair pinned up into an updo and her trim body parcelled into a tight-fitting leather dress. He'd never been personally serviced by her, but had seen her at the public lounge once or twice, delivering drinks or supplies to club members. "Good evening," she said. "Your card, please."

She had big tits, too, strapped up high and proud. David let his gaze settle on them as he tossed her his membership card, and was enraptured in looking her over enough that it took him a second to realise she was having difficulty scanning it.

"Is there something wrong?" he asked, a little annoyed. Knowing the kinds of pleasures that awaited him, he'd already started to feel his blood rush down towards his cock, adding to his impatience.

"So sorry, sir," the attendant said. "We've been having a little difficulty with our systems tonight. I'm just going to input our ID manually, it won't take a minute."

David sighed loudly, but didn't say anything else, not wanting to slow her down as she struggled to type with her long nails. Even silent, he was sure his irritation was palpable as she anxiously bit her lip, glancing at him apologetically, tried to move faster.

"There we go," she said, handing him back his card. "All done. Shall I take you through?"

"I wish you would," David said, taking his card and pocketing it.

The attendant led him through the main doors, and out into the lower lounge. Here, the level of debauchery was a little more limited than some of the other levels. Men and women in lovely evening wear shared drinks and conversation, but there were telltale differences, like the collars that were worn, or the sheerness of some fabric, and then the occasional near-nude man or woman was led through the room, or made to kneel on cushions. It was, by now, a familiar sight, and David enjoyed the view as he prowled through in the attendant's wake.

When he'd first started coming to the House of Ex, part of the initiation was a series of interviews to ensure he had a perfectly tailored experience. No, you couldn't simply ask for what you wanted at the House of Ex -- you needed to submit to what their team believed you needed, and boy, did they get it right. Before the House of Ex, David believed himself to be a domineering figure in the bedroom, maybe even a sadist, but what he had learned was that he loved to be roughly handled by a woman who wasn't afraid to be cruel. Bondage, whipping, slapping, all that good stuff. Never anything too weird, really, and his orgasm was always guaranteed despite what she might threaten. Deep down, as much as he enjoyed getting beat up by a cute little dominatrix, he knew that her main priority was his pleasure.

He wondered who he would get tonight, and what she had in store for him.

***

The room he was led into had a large bed positioned in the middle of the room, and a few other pieces of furniture -- a cabinet, a chair, a couch. The lights were low and everything was plush and velvet and rich, comfortable and luxurious. The door closed behind him, and David found himself left alone. A little unusual, but something new always gave him a small thrill of excitement.

He moved towards the bed, spying a glossily black wooden box waiting for him at the end of it. Lifting the led, he chuckled at the item laying inside -- a leather hood. Picking it up, David looked it over. It would slip over the wearer's head and cover it entirely, with a zipper that went down the back and a buckle at the base of the neck. The eyes were masked over, and the mouth had an in-built gag. The small triangle of the under-nose was left uncovered.

Even just holding it, David could feel his cock stir with interest in his pants, and he fidgeted with the zipper only to find one additional detail -- a small padlock that could link through the zipper's tab as well as the buckle, locking it closed. His cock registered its own interest with a twitch, and a second when he didn't see any corresponding key in the box.

It wasn't really a question, whether he would put it on -- he was absolutely going to, impatient already from waiting at the front desk and suspecting that maybe whoever he was going to get tonight was waiting for him to do as implicit instructions asked of him. The main question was whether he wanted to undress first.

In the end, he decided he would just undo the top button of his shirt and loosen the tie to ensure the hood fit comfortably, and then slipped it on. He carefully pushed the gag into his mouth and then pulled the leather over his head, lining up the nose to ensure he could breathe. Blindly, he drew the zipper closed and fixed the buckle, reaching awkwardly behind him to fidget the lock into place.

It took a few seconds, but eventually, he pushed the shank through both tab and buckle, and felt it clicked closed. Testing, he tugged at the neck, fidgeted with the zipper, pulled at the gag area, but there was nothing he could do. The hood was on, and it wasn't coming off.

He immediately groaned, feeling another dull pulse through his cock at the very feeling of being alone in this room, blinded and gagged, not knowing when his Mistress would arrive. He reached out for the bed, sitting on the edge of it, and repressing the urge to rub his slow stiffening cock through his slacks.

Then, he heard the door open, and heard it close. He turned his blindfolded attention towards it, trying to get a sense of who had joined him, but the carpet on the floor muffled anything specific about her footsteps, and it was hard to hear through the hood anyway.

But she was in front of him where he sat on the edge of the bed, he knew that much. He tried to regulate his breathing, waiting for her to speak first, or touch him.

A rustle of fabric, and then he felt his ankle grabbed by a strong, startlingly rough grip. It jerked his foot off the ground, and then the next, in the process of taking off his shoes, no care or gentle handling in the process, and he thought he felt leather gloves, maybe.

His tie was tugged as it was slid loose, removed, discarded. David could feel his excitement building, and the temptation too touch was becoming too strong. Maybe he might get punished for it, but it was worth finding out. As those hands started undoing his shirt, David raised his own hands, guessing where her wrists and arms would be, in an effort to touch them.

His hands met the feeling of warm kind, but not at all smooth and soft as he was expecting -- and he felt a conspicuous amount of arm hair, too, tickling under his palms as he felt the unexpectedly wide, muscular girth of the person's forearms. He barely had a second to process before his hands were shaken loose, and he was shoved in the chest to lay back against the bed, legs bent still over the edge of the mattress.

"I can see you're eager to get started," said a voice. "But we do this my way, boy."

And that voice, and those arms, without a shadow of a doubt belonged to a man.

***

David's startled protest was smothered into incoherence around his gag, giving a higher pitched sound as his shirt was suddenly ripped open, feeling the cooler air hit his bare skin. He lifted his hands to struggle, but his arms were immediately seized and trapped as his shirt and jacket both were yanked down over his shoulders, ruching up around his elbows.

He felt a warm, hot mouth touch his navel, and felt the bristle of a few days lack of shaving rub against his belly as a warm tongue licked a stripe across his skin. Traitorously, his cock jumped at the sensation.

David was certain he had specified that he never wanted a male attendant at the House of Ex. There was the option to put certain things in a list of hard no's despite the interview process, and he was sure he'd redflagged any gay shit -- and it had worked for two years, only receiving female dommes. So why was he being stripped down by some guy? There had to be a way to stop this.

He startled as he felt his pants get unbuckled, squirming his arms out from the shirt and jacket in a panic, but his slacks were being pulled down to his knees by the time his hands were free. With a muffled protest, he reached for them, managing to snare the hem of his trousers. At least his briefs were still in place, although he was acutely aware of his nearly full erection straining against the thin cotton.

He heard a deep, masculine laugh, and despite his grabbing, his slacks were pulled off the rest of the way with greater strength and precision, and all at once, David found himself down to his briefs on the bed, his head trapped inside the leather hood, and -- something that was really starting to set in now -- no way to speak his safe-word or ask what was going on. He felt around for his shirt and jacket, but the telltale sound of rustling fabric told him that the other man had whipped them out of reach too.

"Having second thoughts, Ryan?"

Wait. Who the fuck was Ryan?

"Well, it's too late for those," continued the man, his voice hovering somewhere taller than David's position on the bed. "You're not leaving this room until I say we're done. Now, are you gonna be a good boy and take off those cute little panties for me?"

David's head was spinning. He was just called a different name like it was nothing. Was this all a mistake? Was there some guy out there right now, called Ryan, who was getting the session David was meant to be getting? He tried to speak -- something like 'my name is David' or 'there's some kind of mistake' -- but it only came out as garbled mush.

"That's fine. You leave them on for now, but it's gonna cost you."

More attempts to speak -- 'wait!' -- sounded like the same kind of protest as he felt two strong hands grab his legs and lever him around effortlessly. Without the ability to see or anticipate, David was manhandled with great ease, finding himself on his belly on the bed. He felt the mattress dip as a weight pressed down between his legs, and he reached out in an effort to scramble away.

But he was held by the leg, preventing his ability to move away, and then, without warning, a stinging slap connected with his right ass cheek. He yelled, the sound muted and whiney behind the gag.

Another laugh, and a second slap came down on his other ass cheek. "Maybe if I spank your ass hot enough, you'll be begging to take off those panties," the man taunted. "What do you think, Ryan? Do you want a spanking from Daddy?"

And perversely, David felt his cock throb with arousal even as the sharp sensation of humiliation pierced through him. The sound he made was midway between protest and a moan, cut off by a sharper grunt as he was spanked again. He'd been spanked before, but usually with a paddle while he was securely strapped down, not manhandled and swatted at like it was nothing.

Slaps continued to rain down, and as he squirmed and twisted, he was merely pushed or tugged back into position, and slapped harder, making him buck and yell.

Daddy -- as David resignedly thought of him as, lacking any other address -- was relentless, patient, each slap skimming off the curve of David's ass as if Daddy himself were taking pleasure in watching the way his ass cheeks bounced under impact. David felt an increasing surge of embarrassment as his ass absorbed the punishment, at the bright pink colour it would be taking on, at the knowledge that a man of apparently greater size and strength than him was enjoying watching his ass bounce and quiver from where he was positioned between David's spread thighs, and even worse, at the way arousal squeezed up through his cock at the very thought.

At the next slap, David thrust his hips downwards, rubbing his now straining erection against the mattress. His arousal hadn't abated since this began, and in fact, had only intensified, much to his chagrin. At the next slap, he squirmed again, clutching at the sheets with his hands as if completely forgetting his escape attempt.

Then, he felt a tug to his underwear, and before he could even feel dread for being stripped naked, he gasp around his gag as he felt the fabric instead tighten as Daddy took it into a fisted grip, slowly pulling it up until it started cutting painfully between his legs, compressing his balls and dick. David groan, reflexively raising his hips to alleviate it, feeling blood flush through his over-warm face at the distinct sensation of his freshly-slapped ass cheeks almost fully exposed from the way his briefs stretched up like a g-string.

"Don't mind me," said Daddy. "Just admiring my handiwork. Now, you still wanna keep these on?"

He gave David's briefs a harsh tug, laughing at the way David jerked his hips up a little higher.

"Go on," Daddy said. "You know how to talk without talking."

Another hard slap connected with David's ass, as the fabric twisted tighter. David tried to speak, but just heard his own voice rendered odd and animalistic around the gag, felt saliva drool around the edges. Daddy brushed his fingers up along where the material had gathered and pinched up in David's crack, teasing at the backs of his balls bundled tight into the strained fabric, and then over along his barely-clothed taint. The prod of his fingertip accurately found where David's asshole was still concealed, as if issuing a complaint about the barrier of stretched cotton and his naked skin.

Finally, David shook his head 'no', and was rewarded with a tender touch of Daddy's broad palm against his ass cheek, giving him a soothing squeeze.

"Good boy," Daddy said, and then the tension released, and David felt his briefs slither down his legs and ankles with startling speed. Naked completely, save for the hood, his ass on fire and his cock aching and heavy between his legs as he listened to Daddy's footsteps around the room.

And there was simply nothing he could do to stop whatever might come next.

***

[ Note: Next time, David learns what Daddy has in store for "Ryan" at the House of Ex. ]