Kink: tickling, vibrators, rough, cumshots
Ship: Patrick/Gerard
Top: Gerard
Bottom: Patrick
Words: 4164

This was over 4K words long holy shit.

This is for Janjan055 you kinky little shit

It started that night when Gerard and I just got back from the store, tired. We had to pick up some groceries for the upcoming week and, despite the fact I was really reluctant, he took me anyways. It took at least 3 hours and there was this really rude lady who kept staring at the two of us and shaking her head and whispering, "Faggots," under her breath. Gerard ended up calling the manager and I wish he wouldn't do stuff like that. It's easier to deal with if you don't make a big deal out of it but whatever. We managed to get a few items free in compensation which was pretty cool.

Now, we're back home and he's running his fingers through my hair as we sit, cuddling on the couch, his arms around mine. It's really nice and peaceful. It's been raining all day outside and I think the sun is finally beginning to peak out over the clouds. It's setting now, though, and I probably won't see much of it for the rest of the evening. In fact, I end up seeing none of it that evening. Gerard has other plans for me.

It starts with a suggestion. Innocent enough, just one sentence that consists of the words, "I want to try something new in the bedroom."

Now, Gerard's always been into the whole dom/sub BDSM relationship and so have I. When he first found the porn I was watching, he had immediately gone into dom mode and we'd established a relationship around it. We have the occasional blowjob or handjob outside of it where I'll call him Gerard and he'll call me Patrick but for the most part, we stay in it. It's nice when I have a lot of stress on my shoulders and I just need to escape to subspace for a while. Especially more so when I'm feeling like shit about my body and not to mention all the kinks and scenes we've tried. Everything from roleplay to watersports to overstimulation to flogging. Anything you could want, and it's especially nice that we're both exhibitionists.

So I'm not surprised by the suggestion at all. In fact I'm a little excited to know what it is he wants to try. When I actually ask what it is, my stomach twists at the thought of it.

"I wanna try tickling. Like... with feathers..." he says, brown eyes staring intently right back at my blues.

I bite my lip, "Wouldn't that be a little... weird...?"

Gerard smirks and turns, slowly pushing me back into the couch and pinning my wrists above my head.

"What? Tying you up and brushing that feather all over your body until you're begging me to stop?" Gerard asks—growls really—into my ear.

My eyes widen at the thought and I buck my hips up, letting out a shuddery breath. Because fuck that actually does sound pretty nice.

"You know I wouldn't give you mercy until you're begging," Gerard breathes, then trails his fingers down to my crotch, the growing bulge pulling at my jeans, "Oh, Patrick, you'd be screaming for me. C'mon, I know you wanna do it."

He licks a stripe of my neck, watching as my eyes roll back in pleasure and my hips stutter against his. He's always had a way of teasing me into submission. Making things sound better than they really are. Usually, they turn out pretty damn good, too. So I decide this time is no exception.

"Yes... S-Sir, I wanna..." I whimper.

Gerard pulls up and smirks, rising to his knees, "Go upstairs and grab the handcuffs. I don't want anything on that body besides the lace panties I got you."

"The red ones, Sir?"

"Yeah, now go, Whore."

I bite my lip and immediately make my way upstairs, heart pounding in my chest as I swing the door shut. As soon as I'm in the room, I tug off my shirt and belt, letting my jeans fall to the floor, underwearless. I never wear them anymore because I enjoy the friction I get from my jeans alone.

As soon as I've grabbing the lace panties from the drawer and pulled them on (taking a moment to admire how they look framing my cock), I take the handcuffs from the drawer and set them out on the bed for Gerard to use when he gets there.

With that, I lay back in bed, my back resting against the headboard and my legs spread just the slightest, knees up to my chest. It takes at least five minutes which I use staring at the wall and waiting patiently. Will I like it? Am I supposed to like... laugh? What if it becomes too much? I know saying stop won't work because he just doesn't unless I use the safeword. If anything, he probably gets off on me saying stop and being helpless like that. I'm sure if find it pretty hot, too. I remember when he had me blindfolded and tied up, a vibe up my ass and another built into a cockring. My legs were shaking uncontrollably and I was forced to wait with my head down, not moving a muscle as Gerard took Polaroids and chuckled darkly at me.

The memory alone sends chills up my spine and my panties growing less and less roomy by the moment. It's so vivid I don't even hear my boyfriend enter the room.

"Stand up and put your hands..." Gerard trails off in thought as he considers how he wants me restrained, "Hold onto your wrists which each hand and put them behind your head. I'm not using handcuffs."

"Why, Sir?" I ask, doing as he asks and looking across his body. The black hoodie and the long, red hair and the hooded brown eyes.

"Changed my mind. You're more exposed like this." He replies, wrapping the rope around my hands and tying it off before using his belt to restrain it to the headboard, "And I can move you around like this."

Gerard presses me down on the bed on my back and straddles me before reaching over to the bedside table and pulling out a feather. It's pretty long, like something you'd make a quill out of with a light brown stripe decorating one side. It sends shivers up my spine at the sight of it because he's gonna use that on me and he's gonna somehow make it hot and not weird.

"What's the safeword?" He asks, looking me up and down.

"Feather," I reply before putting much thought into it. He always tells me to have a new safeword each time. I'm not sure why but he said it would mean I would say it less or something.

"Good, if any of this becomes too much for you, use it." He says, dragging the feather down my chest, to just above where my cock is curved toward my belly, covered by the red lace, and back up to my chest, watching me shiver under the touch.

"You like that?" He asks with a small chuckle, especially more so when I moan at the feeling of it down my sides.

"Y-Yes, Sir," I breathe, squeezing my eyes shut, "I like it very much."

He drags the feather back up my arms, teasingly and after a moment begins to stroke back and forth. I immediately find myself at a loss of breath.

It's the sort of situation that makes me not laugh and instead squirm and immediately want it to stop, but not necessarily in a bad way. So maybe it's not as weird as I had originally thought. I try to shy away but Gerard only forces my arm forward and strokes it faster.

"S-Sir," I protest, squeezing my eyes shut and pressing my hips farther into the bed as I try to deal with the sensation. It's so soft and unbearable all at the same time and those two things shouldn't combine as well as they do.

"Shh," he whispers, pulling the feather away and instead stroking it down my skin. I let out a whimper when he reaches around my nipples but he doesn't stop, just continues lower and lower until he's at my length, snapping the panties against my skin with the other hand.

My eyes widen and I let out a breath to try to relax myself.

"Sir."

"Shut up, Whore." He growls, smacking my side lightly which immediately makes me follow his order. I've loved it when he hits me like that. The gentle reminders.

He trails the feather up and down my laced cock and the sensation immediately sends me inhaling sharply and squirming under him, clenching my fists and sucking in my stomach and whining.

"Sir, please," I say.

He doesn't give any mercy, though and the longer he does it, the worse it gets. Up and down, light and feathery, it tickles and it's unbearable. I want him to stop and I want him to keep going at the same time.

It's not as bad, however, as when he eases off my underwear. That's when I begin sobbing and begging and trying to move away and squirming much more than before.

"S-Sir, please. I... p-please, m-mercy, stop!"

He only chuckles darkly and, thankfully, pulls it away, watching as I manage to slow my breathing, tears pricking at my eyes from how intense a single feather could be. But it guess cocks just work that way.

I watch as he sets the feather between his teeth and grabs the lube from the bedside table, drenching a couple of fingers and pressing them into my entrance, spreading my legs farther before I can protest.

He bites the feather harder and continues to stretch me open. One finger turning to two and two to three. Prep really isn't that bad for me and I probably don't even need it but he does it anyways. He says it can get dangerous if he doesn't and only skips it sometimes. I've learned not to protest.

Next, Gerard opens the drawer again, this time pulling out a vibrator and pressing it to my entrance. It's our longest one. At least 9 inches with a 2 inch diameter at the thickest point and the entire thing is colored in red. He has a thing for that. He also has a thing for reminding me about my safeword which I experience not long after, "Remember, if any of this becomes too much, safeword."

I exhale shakily despite the fact that I would most likely respond with sarcasm in any other situation, "Yes, S-Sir."

He smirks at me, bottoming it out and letting me adjust to how thick it is for a moment or two. It is pretty damn thick and I'm not so used to taking this one. Those moments end and he flips the vibe on to 3/10 on the controller and goes back to straddling me, grinding against me a little.

"God, you're so pretty," he breathes, pulling the feather back out of his mouth. I moan as he trails it back up my chest and begins brushing it over my lower arm, then back down, pulling his hips away from mine.

"S-Sir," I moan.

"You want me to brush that hard cock of yours?" He whispers in my ear, teasingly. He also likes dirty talk. This is something I've learned the most out of all my years of being with him, even before our whole BDSM lives began and we were just a couple of horny teens. I'd always get off the hardest when he whispered in my ear. I still do, "Wanna feel it like a good little whore?"

"P-Please," I whimper, squeezing my eyes shut.

He bites my lip, turns the vibe up a little more so I outright moan, grinding down on it, and begins stroking my length with the feather, picking up the precum as well and swirling it over my tip.

It tickles horribly and despite the fact it's turning me on, it's a little overstimulating and right away, I want him to take it slower.

"Sir, please." I breathe, my chest rising and falling at a faster pace, my heart pounding, my hips bucking, "S-Sir."

"What?" Gerard growls, pressing my hips down aggressively and continuing to stimulate my cock with the feather, faster than before.

"S-Stooooop!" I sob into the air, trying to get away. Gerard makes no attempt to do so and only turns the vibe up my ass to 7/10 and continues.

It's almost unbearable now and I'm panting and squirming away, "Sir! Stop, please, I'll do anything, please," there are tears falling from my eyes as he continues.

"Shut the fuck up." He growls, slowly jerking me of as the feather reaches to around my—

Oh my god.

"Sir! Sir please, I'm sorry, please, Sir! Stop I can't. I can't t-take it. Sir." I sob trying to pull away. It's so overstimulating and it's too much and it's like being tickled normally. It's uncomfortable, but this has just enough of that dominant element for me not to safeword.

"Do I have to fucking tie you down and gag you?" Gerard barks, pulling the feather away and pressing his hand to my neck so he's cutting off most of my air.

I lower my head, not replying for a moment as the shame courses through my body.

"I-I'm sorry, Sir." I whisper through his constricting air flow.

"Good," Says Gerard, pulling away his hand to look me up and down, his eyes ravenous and hungry, "Gonna go for a few minutes then I'm gonna fuck that pretty ass until you're begging to cum, you got me?"

"Ahh, yes, Sir." I groan, feeling his hands brush over my leaking cock. He swipes up a droplet of precum and holds it to my lips. I suck in his thumb almost immediately, watching him smirk devilishly before wiping the spit around my mouth and opening the bedside drawer to grab a ball gag.

"No, sir, please." I beg. He knows I hate gags but he pushes me to wear them a lot anyways so I get used to them and so I'm just out of my comfort zone.

"Rap against the headboard if you want me to stop." He says, tying the strap around my head despite my obvious reluctance. Soon enough, he's also got a blindfold over my eyes and that's when it really gets bad because I don't know where he is. I can't tell.

I whine through the gag but he only slaps my side again and picks up the feather, trailing it up and down my chest. It goes to my neck, stopping around my ear, then continuing back down my jaw and chest and stomach to my dick because apparently that's where he's getting the best reaction. That's also where it's the most sensitive.

I whine through the gag when he strokes the underside of my length with the edge of the feather and actually nearly scream when he gets to my balls like before.

My back arches off of the bed and I sob loudly through the plastic, moaning out small pleases that he can't hear. It does turn me on, though, the struggling without mercy, the restriction from any sort of relief, the helplessness that comes with it.

He swirls the feather around, smirking when tears soak the blindfold and my legs shake and I try to close them. He only presses them back open aggressively and bites down hard on my neck.

"You ready for me to fuck that pretty ass?" He asks, I can hear the smirk in his voice.

I try to say it through the gag, two words, "please, sir." And I know he can hear it but he acts like he can't.

"What was that, Baby?" He asks, the feather still between my legs.

I try again, it comes out as something like, "fusch we thur."

He chuckles a little and finally pops the gag out of my mouth.

"Fuck me, Sir, please, I need you now please!" I sob, feeling as he pulls off the blindfold and my sight returns to me.

"Okay, okay," he smiles, pulling away the feather and pressing his hand down my chest to jerk me off slowly.

"Thank you, Sir." I moan, grinding back against his hand and the growing vibrations against my prostate.

"Hands and knees, head down, ass up," He orders, "Make a sound and the ball gag goes back in."

"Yes, Sir." I reply instinctively. I flip onto my stomach, shutting my eyes and spreading my legs a little as I press my knees into the bed and pull my head over my tied arms.

He smacks my ass harshly. It takes all my will not to yelp out at it and to just take it. He grips my hips and once he has the vibrator out and off, he begins easing himself in.

"You may make noises, but don't you dare talk unless I say. Understand me?"

"Yes, Sir," I breathe, my eyes rolling back as he bottoms out, cock deep inside me. He's a good 7 inches, just above average and about three fingers thick if that's easy to visualize.

I manage to let out a little moan when he reaches the hilt but that's about it. Sweat is slick on my back and spit is drooling out my mouth from the ball gag and just from pleasure in general. My hair is sprouting in every which way, my arms are aching from being held in one place for so long, my legs are still shaking from the feather. Everything either feels good, or feels bad and it's the mix of pain and pleasure that makes me smile into the pillow. Because the mixture itself is amazing.

I even moan into the pillow and Gerard responds positively to that, "Feel good, Baby?"

"Ooooohh, yessir..."

"You want me to fuck you?"

"Yessir..."

"You gonna use your manners?"

"Please, Sir."

"Please what?"

"Please fuck me, Sir." I'm beginning to get impatient. He's literally throbbing inside of me and I just need him to...

"That sounds a little vague."

"Please fuck me hard into the bed, Sir. I wanna feel it in a week. In a month. Sir, please, your cock feels so good inside me, it's soooooooo big..." I groan because it really does feel soooooooo big because I haven't been stretched so loose in a while and I'm still tight around him and he really is huge and I'm no size queen.

He begins grinding, getting nice and deep inside me and listening to the melodies streaming from my lips. Moans, groans, whimpers, grunts.

Eventually, Gerard stops, pulling out a little and pushing back in at a fairly modest pace, breaths and grunts coming from deep in his throat. The small slapping of skin between my ass and his hips echoing through the nearly silent room.

"You like that, Whore?" He grunts, leaning forward just enough for his teeth to clasp to my ear. And yes I loooove it.

"Yes, Sir."

"Tell me, don't stop talking until I say. Tell me how good it feels," Gerard breathes.

I find it actually fairly easy to talk about it because there are so many words coming to mind and at the same time, none. It's filling and muting at the same time just like the pain and pleasure. It's so conflicting but so amazing.

"It feels so good sir, your cock in my ass," I start. He squeezes my hips gratefully and I know he'll leave bruises tomorrow, "It feels so big and long and I love it pounding into me. I loooooove it, Sir."

I blush a little at it, kind of humiliated but kinda turned on and I can't help but smile the smallest hit into the pillow.

"Tell me about the feather, how did that feel?" He asks when I begin to run out of things to say.

"I love it. It tickled and I didn't like it but after a while I got used to it. I loved the way it made me squirm and beg and cry for you, Sir." I say, rambling on and on, "I loved it on my cock and on my balls and I loved all the dirty things you were saying. Calling me a slut and a whore, it's so hot, Sir."

"You may stop now." Gerard pants, his thrusts at a fast speed now, pounding into me over and over again. Hearts racing in our chests, moans intermingling, the bed squeaking with the headboard banging against the wall, one, two, three, four.

Gerard lets out a long groan and pulls me up to my knees, back against chest with my head thrown against his shoulder in pure, exposed pleasure. The red-head bites down on my naked neck, leaving as many marks as possible and hitting at just the right angle to have me crying against him, tears forming at my eyes. Because, yep, he's found my prostate.

"Fucking whore, you think you could come untouched like this?" Gerard growls shakily in my ear.

"Y-yessir, please. I want you to make me cum all over myself." I cry out, sobbing into empty air and shuddering under him.

"You're a fucking mess, Stump. Shaking and shuddering. How much longer do you think you could last like this? Pulled against me with my cock pounding in that pretty little ass of yours. Seconds? Minutes? Hours?"

"As long as you want me, Sir." I whine, tears crawling from my eyes and down my cheeks.

"I want you to cum when you're ready, and you're gonna clean yourself up. Then, I'll come all over that pretty face of yours and you're gonna lick it up. Would you like that?" He asks, smirking against my skin.

"Yes, Sir, I'd love it." I cry, "p-please, I'm gonna cum soon."

"Already?" He asks, leaving hot moisture on my neck before letting me fall forward back into the bed where he presses my head into the covers.

"Yes, Sir, oh god feels so good." I feel myself slipping, my brain becoming deader and deader to the world.

"Does it?"

"Yes, Sir."

"You ready to cum?"

"Oh god, yes."

"Cum."

I blink because it takes a moment for the command to reach my head but as soon as it does, I let it out.

I squeeze my eyes shut as I finally let myself release into the covers, a rather comical wail escaping my throat at the feeling of my release finally coming. My muscles clench up and my toes curl and my eyes roll back and my back arches and I'm cumming, white fluid squirting from my abused cock and into where Gerard is cupping my cock. It's so long and extensive that by the end of it, I'm shaking so much that I can barely sit up right.

"Good boy, god, you took it so well." Gerard moans, pulling out and pressing me back on my knees, holding his hand to my lips to drink. My face is flushed, I'm sure, and my pants are echoing off the walls as I look down at it and eventually lap it up, blushing impossibly more.

"You want my cum, Slut?" He asks once his hand is clean and the musky, salty taste is down my throat.

"Y-Yes, S-Sir." I stutter just before I open my mouth wide, sticking my tongue out like he always tells me to.

"So good," he moans just before standing up on the bed and jerking his last in fast, rough motions.

It comes when I least expect it, a bit on my left cheek, some in my mouth, a little on my right temple, and a stripe right across my forehead.

He continues to milk it even when it's completely dry, then drops to his knees and swipes a stripe of it off of my face, pressing his finger in my mouth and watching as I suck obediently, my eyes half shut.

"You wanna go to bed, Baby? Tired?"

I nod a little even though I barely feel it. The vocalist chuckles that slightest at that and watches as I shut my eyes, feeling him wipe off my face with a napkin and kiss my nose gently, "You did so well, I could have never asked for a better sub, Baby."

I smile numbly at him and shut my eyes as we lay beside each other, his gentle breaths caressing me to sleep and seven last words from his for the night.

"I love you so much, Patrick, goodnight."