A/N: I loved this, way too much 🥰 Just what Dae needs. 

Dae

I couldn't believe that Chul-moo came into the club last night. I thought I was going to vomit when I saw him. I hated not being truthful with Daddy, but the relief I felt when he believed my excuse made me lightheaded. I know if I'd have told Daddy even a bit of the truth he'd have done something. He's strong, and brave, and telling him how awful Chul-moo is, and what he does to people who go against him, wouldn't have been enough to stop him.

I have to do something, soon. Stop Chul-moo. If he's gone, everything's better. I know that whatever vendetta he feels against Master François won't carry forward to whoever takes over from him. For some reason, this is personal for him. The certainty that thought brings – that I'll finally do something – makes me feel happier.

I still feel guilty for hiding things: Daddy and I talked around the issue, but I managed to avoid anything specific. Though something interesting came out of it, at least.

I see Nikki in the sub's locker room and give him a hug.

"Come to watch me get punished, have you?"

"I thought you were doing a public scene?"

"Oh we are," I grin, winking at him.

"So what are you being punished for?"

"I'm not, not really. Daddy thinks I'm being too anxious, and he thinks I need management spankings, and he thinks I get off on humiliation, so he's doing it in front of everyone."

Nikki looks slightly horrified for a moment, but then he stops, his brain obviously catching up.

"Daddy?"

"Yeah. That's part of it. I have to call him it instead of Sir."

"He's making you?"

"Not exactly. It's what I call him when we're scening." And all the rest of the time, when I can get away with it and there's no one too close. Thing is, he thinks I don't do it more openly because I was embarrassed, but really it's because I didn't want to embarrass him. I'm ecstatic that he loves it, though it won't have the humiliation aspect he's hoping for. I'm proud he's my Daddy and, yes, I want everyone to know.

He sat me down earlier today, to talk about the scene tonight. He explained that he thinks I get wrapped up in my worries, and he thinks regular spankings will help me control the hysterical feelings I get when it happens. I'm more than happy with that. I love getting spanked. Everything about it; the dominance from him, the sparks of scratchy itch, the settle into the burn, the fuzziness, the way I can feel it for so long. I see his point about it giving me something to focus on, something, that, in my case, is pleasurable.

But then he suggested that it might have more impact if everyone knew that I was so needy I had to have them. That's how he said it: 'needy'. But he was leaning close to me, and his eyes were dark, and he looked a whole lot like he wanted to pin me down and take, and I wanted to let him, so at least I know he likes how damn needy I am.

When we'd managed to stop being so distracted (whoops) he actually explained it properly. He thinks I might get off on being humiliated. At first I was a bit grossed out. I did tell him I already know what it's like to be humiliated, and I'm not a fan, but he explained humiliation as having different parts, and I don't have to like all of them. And then he said because I like to push things he suspects that I might like other people who are into the same kinds of things we are to know when I've pushed him hard enough to get a punishment, and it might make it more intense for me.

But then he explained he wasn't entirely comfortable with giving punishments publicly, because it impacts rules about them having to happen straight away, but he saw no reason why maintenance spankings couldn't happen that way, and then we were back onto the whole needy thing, and everyone knowing, and, really, I started to see what he meant.

I put on my big boy pants, though, and I explained to him, that although I'm willing to try this his way, I don't want it to be one of those things where he goes all 'big bad Dom' and acts disinterested in me – making it look to everyone like I'm pathetic. I don't want that kind of shame. I've seen boys loving that, but it isn't me. Needy is fine, as long as it's mirrored by him showing how much he likes it. He agreed easily, and told me he doubts he'd be capable of anything else, and he certainly isn't going to be acting disinterested in me – but he gave me a look that was way too knowing

I forget about that for now though. Daddy told me to come out of the subs' locker room naked. It's totally expected for people to get ready without worrying about clothes – showers, oiling and moisturizing, even playing around a bit sometimes – but subs usually at least start the night with something on, even if it's often not much more than shorts. Still, me walking out with nothing but a pink leather harness that matches my glossed lips isn't the first time, but the bouncer, Mike, can't help giving me a little smirk, which I throw back at him.

I know my cheeks match the color of my harness, but I hold my head up high anyway. Thankfully, Daddy gestures me into the seating area, and he pulls me onto his knee, running his fingers along my cheekbone.

"How do you feel, baby?"

"I'm okay, Daddy."

"Everyone was looking at you."

I shudder, embarrassed, but my hole clenches too. Huh, I really do like this, especially when Daddy's voice is so rich when he says it. He likes that everyone was looking at me. Likes that some of them probably saw me and wanted me, wishes it was their lap I was sitting on now. I wriggle a little, pretending to get comfortable, feeling his hard cock under me.

"Naughty, baby," he tuts with a smile in his voice. "Do you have any requests for your punishment?"

"I trust you, Daddy. Just do your thing."

"I'll be speaking to the audience," he tells me.

"You won't-," I don't finish, but he strokes my arm, resting his face against my shoulder.

"I won't call you bad names, baby. I haven't forgotten."

I smile and burrow into him. He doesn't forget. And it's more than that. He actually cares about my reactions and my feelings. I'm not used to it, but I could get there; feeling a little special and worthwhile.

He carries me into the room several minutes after the show was supposed to have begun, and places me on the stage: center front. I can see that there's a heavy crowd out there, even some people who I haven't seen often.

"They're here for you, baby," he tells me quietly, his back to them. "They've all heard how amazing you are up here. You're something special, you know that?"

He turns away then, facing the crowd, leaving me standing high on the stage, in the perfect line of sight for everyone down there. I stand with my legs slightly parted and my wrist held behind my back, and push my eyes down far enough to be submissive, but not so far that I can't watch Daddy down there, owning the space.

"Like so many of our sweet, submissive boys," Daddy starts, and I shiver at his sexy voice, "Dae sometimes has difficulty with reconciling who he wants to be with what the world expects of him. Sometimes he's bad, and he simply can't help himself. I don't hate it." He gets a chuckle from the audience and I try to school my face not to grin.

"What I don't like though, is when Dae gets all tangled up in his head, and starts to think it's bad that he's bad. I know many of the Doms in the audience tonight see the value in a good maintenance spanking, to remind our subs of the power dynamic that they want and need. Some of our subs also crave that regular reminder that they don't have to get trapped inside their own heads, with negative thoughts, because we're there for them. Dae and I have a new relationship, and we're still learning what works, but I know that he desires this, and he trusts me in this. He needs you all to be aware how desperately needy he is for this, that he can't control himself without it, and that he has to have his Daddy to be the one to remind him."

My face is definitely pink with something like embarrassment at Daddy's words, but, with some surprise, I realize there's no shame at them. He's right in what he says, and I risk a glance up to see that the people in the audience bear looks ranging from secure agreement to lustful desire – but no one is mocking or sneering: there is no negative judgement. I know I'm lucky that this is such a safe place for these secret cravings to be made public.

"This isn't a punishment for mis-deeds, but there will be some pain, which I suspect my greedy boy is going to enjoy a great deal."

He isn't wrong. I'm no masochist, but I love the type of pain a hard spanking brings. The heat and the sting, and the softness of his hands as he soothes me after it.

He has me assume the leapfrog position, my ass to the crowd, my chest on the hard wooden floor, though he puts a small flat cushion under my cheek, my hands through my legs and clutching my ankles. I feel incredibly exposed, and I know my skin is flushed all over at the knowledge everyone can see everything, though I'm thankful he hasn't opened me up or anything, so I guess I'm maintaining the smallest degree of dignity. Except, I know exactly what's going to happen when he spanks me – knowing how my body reacts to the knowledge of what likely follows, how it will open up all by its god damn self.

He starts soft, reminding them again, and me, that I'm not being punished right now, but that he wants my pale skin crimson-red and burning hot.

"Don't hold back your noises, baby boy. They want to hear how affected you are," he whispers when I try to hold back the cringy mewls. Already he knows me too well – so well it should scare me – knows that when I let go everything happens. The noises get louder, more out of control and my hole reacts, relaxing, becoming desperate for what he'll give me when this is done, the muscles down there clench in a shiver that I feel all over, and I know, and he knows, tonight is different, with the added intensity of having an audience, and I'll come from this, before the end.

"Daddy, please," I whimper, wanting more, even though I know I won't get it. This is only about the control I'm giving him, nothing else, not yet. But he loves it when I beg for him, and I hear the quiet moan he lets out when I call him that, as he increases the pace and strength all at once, intentionally pushing me to the edge.

I want to let go of my ankles, to grab ineffectually at the floor, to roll over and pull him down onto me, but I know that will turn this from maintenance to a real punishment. I'm not ruining this for either of us, so I keep hold, forcing myself to stay almost still until my ass feels like a solid mass of burning pain – but a good burn, like I'm on fire with pleasure and sensation.

He leans over me and whispers, "I think I'd like to do some wax play with you next, baby boy." I cry out, the words and the final, forceful slap being what I needed to push me off the cliff, and I come over the shiny polished floor, thankful that he coos, and soothes, and stops slapping, holding my shaking body to him with strong, hot, hands.

"You did so good, baby," he whispers, nuzzling my ear when we're back in his playroom, where he carried me, out of it and dazed. I pull him to me, silently asking for a kiss, which he gives me, his hands still on my sore butt.

"Thank you, Daddy, for taking care of me."

"Thank you for letting me." His finger explores my hole, which is loose and ready, my body knowing exactly what it wants, and he applies lube and puts a condom on without ever letting go of me, sliding inside gently, kissing my tears away as they fall, until his caring movements make me fall apart all over again.

After he's cleaned me up and is applying soothing gel to my still hot skin, he sits by me.

"So it worked? You feel more in control?"

"Yes. Well, less in control, but in a good way. My head doesn't feel such a mess."

"I'm going away for a few days, you remember? But when I get back I want to talk very seriously about what's been bothering you."

I sit up sharply, wincing at the reminder from my butt.

"What do you mean?" But it sounds fake. Whiny and high-pitched.

"Well, I don't know baby boy, do I? You're going to have to tell me. I care for you, and you have to let me in. You have to give me your power, baby. It works, doesn't it? Tonight showed you it works?"

He sounds...something. Sad, maybe? He doesn't sound angry, but he will, if he ever finds out what I've been hiding. I don't like that I made him sad, but I can't tell him. He'll hate me. They'll all hate me.

"I love you, Dae. You've burrowed under my skin, and I never want to let you go, but I need you in this, fully."

I hide the whimper in his neck, holding him close, embracing the momentary joy his admission brings. I knew it couldn't last. Nothing good ever does.