Cry All You Want To (I Don't Care)

[3/3] 1/2

Gerard was cleaning up dishes when Frank got home from work. He really should’ve been done by now, but he was working slow—just to reenact the classic scene of Husband and Wife. Husband comes home, Wife is doing dishes with dinner on the table.

“You’re not done with those yet?” Frank asked, sitting down at the table and taking a bite of dinner. “This is good, Babe.”

“Thank you,” Gerard said, turning off the faucet and sitting down slowly across from his captor. 

“What’s the occasion? You’re giving me that look.” 

‘That look’ was what Gerard managed to concoct as a mixture of seduction and anxiety. It was his way of controlling when Frank began his tortures, but did little more than that. 

“No occasion,” Gerard mumbled. “Just want to be nice…” Frank hummed and picked at his dinner. 

“You know…I think I’ll go easy on you tonight.” Gerard stared at him in disbelief. What did that mean? What did those words mean to Frank? “As long as you behave.”

“You know I’ll do whatever you say,” Gerard said softly. “What would you…want me to do?” He asked, setting down his fork and looking at Frank sadly.

“Finish your dinner,” Frank said. Gerard picked his fork back up and started eating quicker. “Not that fast,” Frank added. Gerard slowed down and copied Frank’s pace so that they finished at the same time. “Clean this, then come back to the bedroom.” Gerard nodded and cleared the table. He began the dishes and hurried to the room, making sure his hands were washed of the stink of food. 

“Frankie?” Gerard said, peeking into the bedroom and trying to keep his dinner down when he saw Frank’s belt laid across the bed. He didn’t want a beating…He didn’t want hurt again—he’d just regained his ability sit down.

“Come on,” Frank said. “Bed,” he said, pointing to the bed and then turning back to the dresser drawer that held all of their toys.

Gerard withheld all sounds of fear and discomfort as he crept to the bed and laid down. He stared at Frank’s belt and fought the urge to hide it under the blankets. He didn’t want hit with that. He didn’t want that—he didn’t…he didn’t.

“Frankie?” Gerard mumbled. 

“What?” Frank asked, throwing a dildo over his shoulder that hit Gerard on the face before falling onto the bed. Gerard stared at it…surprised at how average it was. How small and seemingly innocent in all of its pastel pink glory.

“Am I…getting—”

“A strapping—yes.” Gerard whimpered and got into the position that Frank had trained him to assume for spankings. Frank threw another toy onto the bed but Gerard didn’t look at it. He was terrified of Frank’s belt. Nothing else fazed him much besides Frank’s belt and his sensitive piercing. “Don’t be so depressed,” Frank mumbled. “You can take it.”

“But…it hurts,” Gerard muttered.

“No shit,” Frank said absently, still digging through the drawer. The drawer’s contents were ever-expanding, but Gerard never saw him bring new toys home. It was like a bottomless pit of terror.

“Will it…be as bad as—”

“Before? No. It pisses me off when you get blood on all of my seats.”

“I’m sorry,” Gerard said quietly, nuzzling the fresh bed sheets. Since he’d gained more privileges in the house, he made sure that everything was clean and fresh for Frankie. He vowed to never let the sheets get into the disgusting state they had been in weeks before.