"I am severely disappointed in you, Frank," Gerard said simply, his voice low, etched with a stern, deadly warning that had a tingle running down Frank's spine. The same kind of feeling you get when you're walking alone at night. Gerard ran his skilled, pale fingers through his windswept, slightly greasy, orange locks.

Frank couldn't reply however, he was more preoccupied with staring up at his Master, the submission piling over his senses like molasses. He tugged the rope around his wrists, the tight, thick cordage that bound each of his limbs to each of the mahogany bedposts, exposing and sprawling him out like a fur rug on which to be trampled. Frank let out a small whimper around the ball gag in his mouth, tugging again as he craned his neck to look at Gerard, who had his arms crossed over his chest, still dressed for work.

Gerard had sent Frank home early, getting more and more enraged with the young boy; but it was all on purpose. Frank had decided that morning that he had had enough of Gerard being so boring. Considering that 'boring' was Frank's usual spanking and degrading, and Gerard just wasn't getting the hint that his submissive wanted more . Nor would Frank say he wanted more lest he receive a literal violent and unpleasant kicking in the ass.

So, that was when Frank had begun to mess up; spilling Gerard's coffee on the floor, misspelling his notes and wandering around like a lost fart. However, the cherry on the bondage-frosted cake was when Frank had pretended to be listening to music, well aware that the phone was ringing off the hook. He heard Gerard all but blow a fuse and storm out of his office, looking exactly like Frank had pictured. He was livid. And the dominant, death-like glare was doing something and everything to Frank's insides. Gerard ripped the earbuds from Frank's ears and grabbed the twenty-two-year-old by the ear, hoisting him up onto his feet. He told Frank that he was excused for the rest of the day and when Gerard got home, he was expecting Frank to be on the floor by their bed and he wanted visible marks on Frank's knees that he had been sitting there the entire time.

But of course, Frank went home and took a nap instead, falling asleep with a smirk on his face. He did, however, get into position a couple of minutes before Gerard got home, anticipation thrumming under his veins as he stripped down to nothing and waited, perched excitedly on his knees, eyes trained on the door like a puppy awaiting his owner. Frank did not have marks on his knees and Gerard looked even more pissed off. This was how Frank ended up in his current position, staring up at Gerard, who hadn't even gotten out of his clothing, only having shed his blazer. He was still dressed in his Prussian blue slacks, his crisp white shirt still tucked in, sleeves rolled up and his black tie loosened.

"So disappointed. What's gotten into you?" Gerard asked as he unfolded his arms, the riding crop coming into Frank's view again, immediately making the younger boy's asshole clench. Frank let out a muffled sound in reply and Gerard frowned, snapping the crop down, hitting Frank's big toe and making him jerk, "I didn't give you permission to answer me, did I, boy?"

Frank shook his head, feeling the sweat beading under his damp fringe from the constant panting and straining. His core muscles ached as he continued craning his neck to look up at his God, his worshipped Master, the man he based his life upon, keeping him high on the shiniest golden pedestal. Frank flopped back, giving up for a moment, letting his body rest as he tried to calm his insides. His heart threatened to potato-gun out of his ribcage like a flea on acid, his stomach continued to do jumping jacks between his colon and his diaphragm, and his brain that had whited out of reality minutes before when Gerard had grabbed him by the hair and thrown him into the mattress as though he were throwing a misbehaving dog outside.

"I don't know what I'm going to do with you..." Gerard tutted, lowering the riding crop down, trailing it over the sole of Frank's foot, making him squeeze his eyes shut and his leg jerk as the intense tickling ran up his body. Frank bit down on the gag, trying his best not to kick and jerk and scream as the torture continued. Frank glanced down at Gerard between his feet, who was watching him solemnly, his eyebrow raised a fraction as he leaned an arm on the bedpost and slid the leather tip of the crop up and down over Frank's foot. Frank fell back again, his eyes widening before they shut as he clenched his fists, panting, feeling hot tears running down the sides of his face as he held on to whatever sanity he had left.

Eventually, he couldn't take any more of it, any more of Gerard's excruciating torture and he let out a loud shriek, kicking his foot away, knocking the crop from Gerard's hand and sending it flying, skittering across the hardwood floor. Frank froze, his chest rising and falling, coming to terms with how badly he had just fucked up. He stared up at Gerard; slurping slightly at the saliva that was now mingling with the tear tracks that had run over his face in a fluid mess.

"Now why did you go and do that, boy?" Gerard asked quietly and Frank let out nothing but a shaky breath, watching Gerard's eyes darken, "That wasn't clever, was it?"

Gerard walked over, picking up the riding crop and examining it as though it were a priceless jewel before he set it down, "You really are being recalcitrant today, aren't you, boy?" Frank whimpered, knowing that Gerard's diction and grammar got more and more fancy and eloquent as his temper rose. Frank didn't even know what the fuck Gerard had just called him but he knew it wasn't good.

"I'm going to have to do something about you and your lack of savoir-faire," Gerard said simply as he brought the riding crop down on his palm in a hard slap, making Frank jump. The latter frowned and Gerard smirked, "Such an ignorant boy. Your lack of tact and behavior, dog."

Frank sighed softly, flopping back, already asking for some deity he didn't believe in to take the wheel, just let him die already. As much as he was protesting, as much as he didn't want to be punished, he was fucking riveting. He was fucking pumped for it, his anticipation teetering on the edge because he had been waiting for so long to have Gerard looking at him like that again. And, oh God, Frank had any and all scenarios playing out in his head of what Gerard would do to him, but he didn't want to know.

"So, what am I going to do..." Gerard trailed off, undoing his tie and slipping it from his collar before he rolled it up, walking over to place it neatly in the top drawer where the other thousands of ties resided. He turned back, his eyes meeting Frank's fearful gaze, "I could always give you a nice caning, hmm?"

Frank's eyes widened slightly at the thought of Gerard bending him over, making him touch his toes, holding onto his ankles as he aimed solid, full-armed swings at Frank's ass with a thickened cane.

"Oh, that got your attention, did it?" Gerard asked, a dark amusement on his face as he wandered closer, "Or how about I string you up and whip your pale rear-end. Give you a nice twenty-five to make you cry and beg, boy." Frank let out a high-pitched yelp, the mental image made his stomach tighten almost like he was going to vomit. He stared at his Master in fear, shaking his head slightly.

"No? You're telling me no, are you, dog?" Gerard asked, leaning over the side of the bed, his head hovering over Frank, who was officially trembling in fear, "How about a solid fucking belting, huh? Put you in your place when I put you over my knee. Or I make you stand, don't I? Make it impossible for you to sit. You'd like that, wouldn't you, you heedless little poach?"

Frank let out a groan, the venom in Gerard's voice practically dripping over his face like a large predator salivating over its weakened prey, about to kill and devour, "Or I'm gonna fuck you. Fuck you raw, unstretched, over and over, and never ever let you come. How does that sound, hmm? Fuck you for hours, having you sobbing in silence and you can't do a single thing about it like this, can you, boy?"

Frank swallowed hard, staring up at Gerard, his body all but melting into the bed when Gerard narrowed his eyes. His Master was smirking as he got up and walked to stand at the end of the bed, devilish hazel gaze branding every inch of his skin, "Aren't we in a predicament, now?" Gerard asked with a sneer, his eyes glinting despite being ringed by sleepless circles, as he untucked his shirt from his pants and slowly, teasingly slowly, he unbuckled his belt. He unfastened his pants, pausing to stare at Frank. Gerard continued his undress, unbuttoning his shirt slowly before unrolling his sleeves and shrugging the shirt from his shoulders, letting it fall from his pale and unmarked body. Frank sucked a breath in through his nostrils as he took in his Master's skin, wishing to savor the touch of his God, of his Golden Calf to worship and follow.

Gerard smirked, looking down at himself and at Frank, "Oh you wish, don't you?" Frank nodded, letting out a desperate whine but Gerard scoffed lightly, "Should have thought about that before you decided to continue with your transgressions."

Frank cursed himself internally, staring at Gerard as the latter bent down, kicking his shoes off and pulling his socks from his feet before he straightened up and unzipped his pants. He let them fall, standing there in the tightest pair of black boxers that left absolutely nothing to Frank's imagination. The younger male stared at Gerard with a burning hunger in his belly, trying his best to ignore his own aching erection. Frank couldn't help the scanning over his Master; no matter where he looked his gaze would continue to travel back to Gerard's crotch, the black material, and the way it stretched over Gerard's dick. It made his mouth water and a fresh surge of butterflies erupted from his core.

Gerard stepped out of his pants before he crawled onto the end of the bed and inched forward, sitting between Frank's legs. They locked eyes again for a moment before Frank looked away, knowing he would get in even more trouble if he looked his Master in the eye. He stared up at the ceiling as the weight shifted and Frank felt Gerard's body hovering over his, Gerard's face suddenly coming into view.

"Look at me, boy." Gerard commanded and Frank swallowed, looking at his Master, who was staring down at him with a solemn, stoic face, "I'm going to wreck you. For hours." Gerard bit his lip, "Oh, you're not going to be able to do a thing about it... Helpless, useless... Weak." Frank whimpered softly and Gerard leaned back before a slow stream of spit landed on Frank's face, running down his mouth and his cheek, their eyes locked as Gerard actually spat on him.

"Weak little boy." Gerard muttered, "Look at you, hmm? Defenseless and needy like a pup in heat." Frank scrunched his eyes closed, pretending that all of the insults and the disgusting words weren't getting to his insides, that they weren't making his stomach tighten in knots over and over, that it wasn't making his heart race and his dick ache even more than it was.

He wanted to be angry about Gerard spitting on him, he wanted to be offended, but he couldn't. Frank never knew he needed it, he never thought that something as simple and disgusting as the saliva of his Master would get him going as much as it did. He could feel it running down his neck and he shuddered. He looked away from Gerard, who took Frank's jaw in his long fingers, gripping it before his slicked digits slid down to Frank's throat, squeezing it tightly. The momentary cut-off of his circulation had Frank's tongue feel heavy in his mouth, the pressure to the sides of his neck from cold fingers had his heart skip a beat. Gerard let go and Frank gasped slightly, relieved that the tickle in the back of his throat had ceased when his neck had been released. Gerard lifted him up, sliding a pillow underneath Frank's lower back with a proven skill before he raised Frank, even more, pushing against him with a smirk, "You better pray, boy. You're going to wish you were dead when I'm done with you."