Work Text:
"Good fucking pet."
The words sound cold as they pass your lips, — impersonal, in a way. Still, Gerard leans into your touch like you've offered him the sweetest praise in the world.
You hear the whine breaking up from his throat, his wordless way of begging. You run your fingers through his soft brown hair for a moment before suddenly, — and roughly, — tugging on it.
Gerard gasps, head tilting back as he looks up at you with wide hazel eyes.
You smile down at him, your prior gentle tenderness returning to your touches. "Be patient, honey," you purr. "You do want to please me, don't you?"
"Mmm... mmm-hmm." His hum is quiet, yet somewhat guttural.
Fucking desperate.
You chuckle, continuing to stroke his hair. "That's my good boy."
This overt praise causes his breath to audibly hitch. Seemingly without any thought, the pleas begin to fall from his lips. "Please," he whimpers. "Let me... Let me fuckin'... Oh, fuck..."
"Let you what?" You attempt to act oblivious to the fact that your leg is now shoved between his own.
You note the shade of crimson that his face is taking on. Still, you don't back down.
"Go on," you encourage him. "You weren't even supposed to be fucking talking. Speak up while you have my permission."
He visibly swallows before forcing the words up his throat. "Let me come?"
It's kind of cute how it comes out like a question. You chuckle, reaching down to cup his face. "Oh, sweet boy," you coo. "You think that it's that easy?"
Gerard doesn't reply, — not with words, at least. The spark of fear in his eyes tells you everything you need to know.
"Think again, pup."
The slap against his face is sudden, albeit not unexpected. Still, he lets out a pathetic whimper, instinctively reaching up to touch the freshly smarting red spot.
You frown, soothing over his heated skin before he has the chance to. "Oh, my poor puppy. Did that hurt?"
He leans into your palm as though you didn't just slap him. As though he didn't fucking love it.
This time, all that escapes him is a long, affirmative whine.
You rub your thumb gently over his cheek. "Do you want me to stop now? Or slow down?" The facade begins to slip for the moment, — you really do want to make sure that he's okay at all times, — but you don't break immersion completely. Even as you touch him so tenderly, you ensure that Gerard knows a command when he hears one. "Speak, pup."
Another desperate moan crawls up Gerard's throat, followed by the answer that you asked for. "N-no," he manages. "Keep... Keep going, mistress. I... I wanna..."
The sentence dies into a squeak as you press your leg harder against his cock. "Where the fuck are your manners?"
The scalding question immediately causes Gerard to hang his head in shame. "S-sorry, mistress..."
"Listen to me." Your voice comes out more or less even, but the words are jagged around the edges, nonetheless. "You know the word that'll make everything stop, right?"
Gerard nods. "Mmm-hmm."
"Good," you say. "Now, do you know what mutts like you were made to do?"
Rather than answering the question verbally, he looks up at you with expectant eyes and nods. Taking your words to heart, no doubt.
You grin before giving him his first order. "Sit."
Though he was already kneeling at your feet, he quickly obeys, sinking completely into the floor.
The pride creeps into your voice sooner than you would like, but you can't quite help it. "Stay."
You reach down, condescendingly touching the tip of his nose. He remains totally still.
Your smile widens as you offer your last order. "Beg."
He obliges that request the quickest of all.
"Please," he says immediately. "Please let me fuckin'... Do what-fuckin'-ever... Doesn't matter, as long as I'm touching you..."
You chuckle. "Eloquent," you say. "Alright, then. If you don't care at all, how about you eat me out?"
The shuddering moan that he lets out should be fucking illegal. "Please."
"Okay, then." Without any hesitation, you hike up your skirt and splay out your legs. "Come on."
If you had any less self control, the mere sight of him crawling slowly towards you on all fours with a look of primal wanting in his eyes may be enough to make you come. Yet, you keep your composure.
Except for when he reaches up to tug down your panties. Then, you swat his hand away.
"No," you say as you pull them off for him and toss them aside. "You don't get to do anything with your hands. Just use your mouth like the stupid fucking mutt that you are."
Even you are shocked by the vitriol of those words. For a fleeting moment, you wonder if you might have gone too far.
That is, until he offers a shaky response, his voice thick with desire. "Y-yes, ma'am."
Before you can completely wrap your head around what's happening, his head comes to rest between your legs. He slowly licks from your entrance up to your clit, causing you to shiver beneath him.
"Yeah," you hiss. "That's my good fuckin' boy."
He moans against you in response to the praise before picking up his pace, setting a steady rhythm.
Your thighs tighten around his head, a soft moan passing from your lips. Before long, you can feel the pressure beginning to build up. You thread your fingers through his hair again, tugging before giving him another order through gritted teeth. "Tell me what you are, pup."
Without missing a beat, he pulls back enough to offer you an answer between panting breaths. "A stupid... fucking... mutt..."
"That's right," you reply. "What else?"
He seems to think about it for a moment before offering an answer.
"I'm... fucking... disgusting," he says. "Just a dumb little bitch who doesn't exist for anything except fucking. I'm a stupid... fucking... whore."
You taste the slightest hint of blood as you bite down on your bottom lip. Your hand falls between your legs, rubbing circles against your clit as he looks on helplessly. "And what else?" you ask again.
Gerard releases a shaky sigh. "I'm your stupid fucking whore," he says. "Your dumb, loyal pet. I'd do anything you asked me to."
The pressure continues to build as you force out a reply. "Good boy," you say. "And what are dumb, loyal whores like you meant to do?"
He doesn't falter. He seldom ever does. "Please their masters."
"That's right," you say. Without warning, you reach down and give his hair another sharp tug. "Now, shut up and put that pretty mouth to use."
He obliges. Of course he does. He eats you out like you're his last fucking meal, just like always. If it doesn't feel good enough as it is, the potential to continue degrading him only makes you wetter.
"So desperate," you remark. "I think you enjoy this more than I do sometimes. Is that right, whore?"
"Uh-huh," he hums against you. "Fuckin' love it."
"You love it, huh?" The heat continues to pool in the pit of your stomach, a warning sign along with your increasingly ragged breathing. "Doing the one thing you're good for?"
"Mmm-hmm," he agrees, just before he speeds up the movements of his tongue against your clit, and you are gone.
"Oh, Jesus Christ, Gerard." You don't mean to say his real name. It just kind of slips out as your thighs clamp around his head and your legs begin to shake. He continues to lick as you come around his tongue, not stopping until you physically push him away.
"Good mutt," you manage as you attempt to stop the spinning of your head.
He looks up at you, eyes clouded by wanting and adoration, and you just can't help it. You grab him by the face, pulling him up for a kiss.
He moans as your tongue runs over his. As soon as his hand brushes the side of your face, you pull back, adjusting your posture in your seat. "Alright, pup," you say. "Since you did your job, I guess I can put you out of your misery and let you come."
Those words alone cause his eyes to light up. "Thank you, mistress," he says. "Thank you so much. I—"
You hold up a finger, shushing him as you extend your leg further out. "This is all you're gonna get," you inform him before putting the inviting smile back on your face. "Now strip and come sit on your mistress's lap."
You watch as he stands, shedding his T-shirt, jeans, and underwear. You hum as he straddles your thigh. "God, you're desperate," you remark. "I've hardly even touched you and you're already leaking."
He hisses at the contact with your skin before nodding shakily. "G-guess I am."
You sigh, feigning disinterest. "Well, then. I suppose nothing's stopping you." You bite back your grin as you nudge your thigh upwards. As you predicted, the sudden contact causes Gerard to draw in a sharp breath.
"Go on, then," you press him. "Get yourself off like the filthy mutt that you are."
He simply nods before beginning to move his hips against you.
It takes no time at all for him to pick up speed, nor for the sound of his heavy breathing and broken groans to fill the room. The nonsensical noises soon morph into words, as they have been known to do in the past.
"Thank you," he says, rolling his hips against you with a surprising amount of force. "Thank you so much. You're so... Oh, fuck." He stills for a moment; in an attempt to hold off on his inevitable release, you soon realize. Somehow, he manages to control himself, huffing out another string of mindless words in the process. "Holy shit... I fuckin' love you..."
Though some part of you is moved by the sappy declaration, the part of you that is playing a role is not amused. Especially when you feel one of his hands wrap around your thigh in a desperate attempt for leverage.
Once again, you swat him away as though he truly was nothing more than an irritating animal. "What are you doing?" you spit.
He freezes. "Just... tryin' to feel good."
You frown. "Did I say that you could touch me, pup?"
Those words cause the color to drain from his face. "Oh... no. I... I didn't... ah—" He stumbles over his words as you reach down and grab ahold of his cock.
You give him a few quick, rough pumps, enjoying the desperate noises he makes before pulling your hand away.
"No touching," you clarify. "Not me. Definitely not yourself." You smile softly at him as he looks at you with an expression of pure desperation.
"You have to get off on my thigh," you insist. "No hands. No help. Just doing what you were meant to do, by whatever means necessary."
At first, he gives you a pathetic, pleading look. Then, he seems to accept his circumstances and goes back to humping your leg.
And damn if he doesn't ride the absolute hell out of your thigh. He reaches over your shoulders to grip the back of the chair, his hips moving at a rapid pace. His gasping moans dissolve into a mess of heavy breathing and nonsensical, needy little noises, until...
He slows until he goes completely still, only for his hips to jerk forward and a loud groan to break up from his throat. He throws his head back as he twitches, releasing against your thigh. You gasp quietly as he rides out his high, feeling the warmth spreading across your upper legs.
With a shuddering cry and a slight tremor, he finally melts against you, totally spent.
It's only then that you realize that his hands have moved from the back of the chair to your shoulders, which he now seems to be holding onto for dear life.
Or he was, anyway.
He releases his hold on you as though you burned him, holding his hands up. "S-sorry," he stammers. "It just... sort of happened..."
You giggle softly, leaning in to plant a gentle kiss against Gerard's lips. When you pull back, he fixes you with a look that is somewhere between surprise and fear.
You smile, reaching up to tuck a lock of damp, unkempt hair behind his ear. "Such a good boy for me," you remark. "Such a good, pretty little whore..."
Gerard blinks. "You think I'm good?" There's nothing he can do to keep the hope out of your voice.
You chuckle. "Oh, baby. You're the absolute best." You press a kiss against his sweat-damp forehead before looking down and frowning at your come-smeared legs. Just like that, an idea for how to bring him back to earth pops into your head.
"What do you say we get a shower?" you suggest.
Too fucked out to care, much less argue, Gerard nods and follows you towards the bathroom.
-
You lift your dress over your head and pull it off while the shower heats up. Once the water gets hot, you step over the edge, beckoning for Gerard to follow you.
Once the two of you have rinsed most of the incriminating evidence of your prior activities away, you give him one more command.
"Get your hair wet."
Gerard tips his head back underneath the faucet. With that, you begin massaging the shampoo into his hair.
You can't help but smile as he tilts his head back, leaning into your touch. You continue massaging the shampoo into his roots until every last sud has been washed away and the water begins to go cool.
You towel dry his hair before reaching for the hairdryer. Once his hair is dry, you run a brush through it, removing tangles with meticulous precision.
Once all of that is out of the way, the two of you retire to your bedroom. As soon as he crawls under the covers, you open your arms. "C'mere, baby."
Wordlessly, Gerard listens. For a long while, you just lay there with his head buried in the crook of your neck before he looks up at you.
"I'm really sorry about earlier," he says. "I know I shouldn't have been touching you. I fucked up..."
You shush him, fingers trailing down his spine as you press a kiss to his cheek. "It's alright, Gee," you assure him. "You were so good for me. My perfect boy." Your lips meet his for a moment before you pull away.
His face is tinted pink, his pretty lips curving into a frown. "I don't really think 'perfect' is an applicable word here..."
"Hush." You kiss the tip of his nose, causing his blush to spread further across his face. "You did so well, sweetheart. Listened to everything I said like a good little mutt." Your breath hitches at the memory of what the two of you had been up to less than an hour ago. "You made me come really fucking hard earlier," you continue. "And it was so, so hot when you finally got off. Got me so wet. I could've gone for another round, y'know..."
Your last statement piques his interest enough for him to lift his head and meet your eyes. "You wanna?"
You smile gently. "Maybe later," you say. "For now, I want to take care of my good boy."
He hums in reply, resting his head against your chest once more. You run your fingers through his hair and down his back, feeling his breathing slow under your fingertips.
Just before he drifts off, he murmurs a confession. "I really do love you, you know."
You don't bother pretending that your heart isn't melting this time. "Love you, too, sweetheart," you tell him.
"Good." He yawns, nuzzling your neck. "Want you to stick around for a while."
As he drifts into a peaceful sleep, you know that he doesn't have to worry about you going anywhere. Ever.
Maybe you were just as loyal to him as he was to you.