Ty and Frank found themselves embroiled in the second part of their high-stakes dare war, the last round was notorious for wild antics and this time was no different except for the fact that the air was heavier, both competitors had more at stake, and it seemed to concern the two spectators - Jim was sleeping nearby and felt confident that round two did not need his supervision. Frank was still reeling from Adam being in his house and trying to wheedle him out of his own relationship, and he may have been grateful for Ty and Josh showing up at the right time, but that didn't mean he was going to allow it to muddy his competitive streak. His stomach flip-flopped and his hands felt far too clammy for a boring Sunday. He was so sure he would either throw up or faint at this point, but he refused to show any weakness in front of the sharp-eyed predatory bird that practically circled him from above - he hated how tall Ty was in comparison.

Ty grinned devilishly at Frank, mischief glinting in his dark brown eyes. They were all still standing around the kitchen table but Josh and Gerard had slowly wandered from the sidelines to stand behind their partner in favored opposition as the two faced one another across their breakfast table. Ty looked around for some inspiration and glanced down the hallway and back before his gaze settled on the defiant submissive, "Alright, pixie, it's time to take it up a notch. I dare you to lick the bottom of your shoe."

"That's all?" Frank walked into the hallway to the little collection of shoes by the door and picked up his sneaker. He came back into the brightly lit kitchen and, with a flat tongue, licked a wet stripe from sole to tip, showing Ty his shoe when he finished. The spit-glistening stripe indicated that Frank had indeed cleaned up some sort of dirt or dust from his trip to the mailbox that morning. He held off from wincing and held off on trying to imagine the tiny germs doing the tango with his tastebuds. Ty seemed horrified as any germophobe would be, and even Josh's nose crinkled a fraction, but Frank smiled and wiped his tongue on his sleeve, "I dare you...." he looked around the kitchen for inspiration. Last time, they had done their respective dares purely based on how much physical pain could be inflicted, but this time felt different. Frank looked at Ty and took him in for a minute before the torturous idea popped into his head as quickly as his smile appeared on his pierced lips, "I dare you to watch some good ol' fashioned lesbian porn."

"Oh, God." Gerard muttered and put a hand on his submissive's shoulder in an attempt to bring him down a notch or two, recognizing the signs of Frank hitting a high on his excitement train. Gerard tried to pull him back, "Frank-"

Ty eyed Frank with the same resolve as one would expect from a shepherd regarding a roaming coyote beyond the fence. He straightened up, his shoulders set back and his posture defensive, but his face unreadable, "Fine."

"But," Frank leaned in, officially hitting his peak as his excitement thrummed in his veins, "Every time you cringe or look away, I get to flick you in the neck with an elastic band."

Josh looked at Gerard nervously, but the eldest of the group remained stoic, his eyes curious as he, too, wanted to see how Ty would handle his punishment dare. Frank pulled out his phone and opened the browser, scanning through a site for the most graphic of sapphic content he could find.

"He looks evil when he smiles like that." Josh whispered.

Gerard nodded, "Within his grasp lies the potential for villainy, an alluring path awaiting the audacity to be tread upon. Yet, it is his hesitance that shields him from the realm of malevolence, a reluctance that restrains his darker inclinations and restrains the tempestuous forces that could otherwise be unleashed."

Frank found the video he was looking for and looked at his secondary Dominant, pausing their confrontation as he leaned in to whisper, "Are you sure you're okay with this? You can always... back out?"

Ty's head whipped to the side as he eyed Frank, a vein throbbing in his temple, "You wish, brat."

Frank felt a sly smile play at his lips, "Oh, really? You wanna watch the lesbians, Daddy? Is that it? You like seeing 'em suck titties and shit?"

"Frank, I wouldn't..." Josh whispered, "You're gonna make him mad."

"The concern over breasts pales in comparison to the more formidable matters of ineptitude that beset us." Gerard added as he put his hands behind his back.

Frank pouted mockingly at Ty as Josh giggled sheepishly, nudging Gerard behind the other two as he found his comment hilarious. But Frank had zoned in on Ty once again, "Aw, come on, Daddy, I didn't know you were... scared."

"Like hell." Ty muttered irritably as he tried to snatch Frank's phone from his hand, "Just play the damn video already."

Frank propped his phone up on the counter in front of Ty and pressed play, watching the opening credits as Ty fidgeted anxiously in his seat. He grabbed an elastic and primed it, aiming for a spot on Ty's neck that would cause maximum pain and minimal damage - Gerard taught him all about the mechanics of a throat, after all. Josh immediately looked uncomfortable and busied himself with making Gerard some tea, the back of his neck turning pink as the sound of women moaning filled the cavernous kitchen.

Frank caught Gerard peek over Ty's shoulder, his eyebrow raised. He giggled, "Are you switching sides, sir?"

"Oh, not at all. It rather piqued my curiosity as to how she manages to produce such a cacophony despite the relative modesty of their endeavors, all things taken into account."

"It's all theatrics." Frank shrugged and looked at Gerard with a curious gaze as he pondered the question, "You don't watch a lot of porn, do you, sir? I never see you looking at anything."

"Your presence, ever an encompassing entity, renders the very notion of time a fleeting abstraction in my world, boy." Gerard eyed him and gave Frank a subtle wink, "It's either that or I don't let you catch me."

"Really, sir?"

"Not really, The need to comb through online repositories diminishes in your presence, for you possess an innate ability to anticipate my requirements."

Frank grinned brightly, "Just making sure you don't get bored, sir."

"How could I? I have an entire folder by now."

Frank giggled and turned back to his secondary Dominant who was currently experiencing lockjaw while watching two interracial women scissoring and making some very whiny noises. It cut to a close-up shot of one of them nose-deep in the other and Ty immediately grimaced, yelping unhappily as Frank shot him in the neck with the rubber band.

It took six welts across the side of his throat for Ty to tap out, distancing himself from the screen with a glare at Frank that was akin to that of a nemesis. Frank smiled at him sheepishly, hiding the elastic band behind his back in the hopes that it would soften whatever blow Ty would land for his next turn.

"I'm not gonna win because you decided to play mind games." Ty snarled, "So I'm going to play your game instead."

"Lesbians don't scare me." Frank folded his arms, "Have you seen Sarah Paulson?"

"I love her." Josh whispered.

"And I have quite an affinity for her wife." Gerard added with an approving nod.

"Makes sense you'd like her, sir. She also likes her partner much younger."

Gerard eyed Frank ruefully, "In the absence of any contextual backdrop, your words could inadvertently cast a shadow of predation upon me, boy."

"Well, luckily, there's context." Frank smiled pointedly, "I was merely commenting on the similarities and the irony of you liking a lesbian couple with an age gap when, you see, you happen to have one yourself."

"Well," Gerard waved a hand, "The chronological distance held no sway over the significance of our connection. Be it a disparity of years that stretches into the double, or a parity of age, my feelings remain steadfast and unperturbed by the numerical values that society attaches to the passage of time."

Frank pulled a face, "Sir, if I was double your age, you wouldn't be able to make my knees meet my ears on a daily basis."

"Oh, I dunno..." Ty shrugged, "I've seen some very flexible geriatrics."

"Where?" All three said in unison, but Ty just rubbed his welted neck.

Frank looked at them for a split second before looking back at the terrifying and bruised predator that was stalking him nearby. He couldn't help the growing anxiety in his stomach as he asked the dreaded question, "What are you gonna do?"

"I'm not gonna do anything. You're the one who is gonna eat a steak."

Sensing the gravity of the situation that had already overshadowed the lightheartedness of their previous conversation, Gerard stepped forward, his protective instincts taking precedence. "Hold on just a moment," he interjected, his tone exuding caution, "This is where I must draw the line."

"I'm fine, sir. I can do this." Frank paused, "I think."

"Winning a trifling wager should not necessitate the abandonment of one's moral bearings, boy."

"Yes, you do." Ty added, his tone overtly unimpressed but determined.

Frank looked between Gerard and Ty, noting just how similar they were to the angel and devil on his shoulder. One bathed in light and orange hair, one shrouded in black darkness, apropos of contrast as they both pulled at either side of Frank's tether, trying to win him over. Except one seemed to know more about temptation than the other, and he seemed to know exactly which buttons to press - and it wasn't the angel. Frank gave Gerard's hand a gentle pat of reassurance before giving Ty the finger, his resolve already built up, and his nerves steeled as he did his best to prepare mentally for the heinous task of eating real flesh for the first time in an entire decade.

Josh quietly stepped forward, having assumed a pivotal role in this culinary escapade. With meticulous care, he had prepared a steak, ensuring it was cooked to a well-done state, eliminating any hint of succulent juices that might betray its carnivorous origin. The plate before Frank held the manifestation of his impending conquest, a feat that would redefine his own limitations. The steak, though seemingly innocuous, bore a weight that transcended its edible form. It was a tangible representation of the challenge Frank had accepted, a symbol of his determination to prove his mettle even in the face of his aversions. The tension in the room was palpable as he picked up the utensils, his hands betraying a mixture of apprehension and resolve as they shook violently.

The first incision into the meat was met with a collective holding of breaths, the metallic scrape of the knife against the plate echoing in the silence. Frank's eyes remained fixed on the task at hand, his focus unwavering as he sliced through the cooked fibers. He lifted a piece to his mouth, his movements deliberate and measured.

As the taste of the meat met his palate, a mix of unfamiliar flavors and textures flooded his senses. He chewed methodically, his expression a blend of concentration and contemplation. The seconds stretched into minutes as he continued to consume, each bite representing a step deeper into uncharted territory. The initial bite triggered a rush of memories from a time long past, a decade to be precise, when meat had last passed his lips. A wave of nausea, unexpected yet undeniable, surged through him. The decades of vegetarianism had rewired his relationship with food, and this carnivorous indulgence was a shock to his system.

Despite the churn in his stomach, Frank persisted, his determination unshaken. Around him, the room remained hushed, the collective heartbeats seemingly synchronized with his every chew. The act of eating the steak had transformed into an emblem of defiance, an assertion of his resilience against the odds. It was a challenge not just to Ty but to his own apprehensions, a silent proclamation of his capacity to surpass his limitations.

And with a final swallow, Frank tried his best not to think about his meal, he set down his utensils, a mixture of triumph and relief flashing across his features. The room erupted in subdued applause, a gesture that encapsulated both admiration and astonishment. The daring challenge had been met, and Frank had emerged victorious to his own surprise. He had wanted to win, but his opponent was also a terrifying and competitive individual.

~

Frank was laying on the bed that evening, still smug about his previous victory. He was grinning like an idiot to himself as he worked on the design that would go on Ty's defeat shirt. He was so happy about winning and so excited about the prospect of seeing Ty in his loser's punishment that he found himself stimming just to get his kicks. He wiggled his toes in the sheets idly, tapping his fingers on the back of his phone in time with a song that was on repeat in his head. And as usual, he was also running the ball of his tongue stud against the back of his teeth. Gerard walked in and took off his shoes and socks, he looked at his submissive as he unfurled his rolled-up sleeves, "And that smile?"

"Just feeling pretty good, sir."

"Undoubtedly because you won, I suppose?"

"Duh."

Gerard leaned over to look at Frank's phone, "You're already designing the Crop Top of Shame? I didn't think you'd actually go through with it."

Frank let out a laugh, "Ha! I'm going to savor every second of Ty wearing that shirt. I can already see his miserable face."

Gerard eyed him, "It appears that magnanimity eludes us in the wake of triumph."

"Nope."

"Well, you did make him snort soy sauce and stare at vaginas for eight minutes, I'm not surprised in the slightest that you won. That was a very sneaky thing to do, boy."

Frank smiled up at his Dominant proudly, "I was raised on Jackass, it's what I do. He's lucky I didn't make him swallow and regurgitate a live goldfish."

"Who did that again?"

"Steve-O."

"That's the one." Gerard nodded, his lips pursed, "In hindsight, I should have expected that from someone raised in New Jersey. The landscape that nurtured your upbringing has bestowed upon you a certain flair for the unexpected, boy."

"I'm street smart."

"Or a rotten cheater."

Frank gasped, a hand on his chest, "Never!" He raised his head up, nose in the air indignantly, "You insult me, sir."

"Perchance the truth lies in my assertion, and it is you who confronts the specter of denial." Gerard poked Frank before folding his arms.

"Huh?"

"I'm right, you're in denial."

"Why?"

"His dares were tame in comparison to yours - meat-eating aside. I think you would have tapped out if he pushed you a bit harder, he was being soft with you."

Frank scoffed as annoyance bubbled in his system, "No, I won fair and square. Ty wouldn't do that." At the sound of Gerard's soft hum, Frank's gaze lifted, only to be met by a twinkle in Gerard's eye that triggered a surge of both surprise and skepticism. The glint held within Gerard's gaze gave rise to a sense of dubiousness and confusion, casting a veil of uncertainty over his understanding of the intentions that lay behind it.

"Maybe you're soft after all."

"Excuse me?"

Gerard shrugged idly, "I think we should just stick to some light spankings from now on, as I wouldn't want to hurt you."

A frown etched across Frank's features, his body tensing as he abruptly sat up. His heart accelerated, its rhythm quickening as a wave of concern washed over him, prickling the back of his skull with an unsettling worry, "Why are you being like this? I'm not soft."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm not!"

Gerard's voice took on a sing-song condescension, his tone dripping with lighthearted mockery, "I don't know...."

"I'm not soft! I'm not!"

Gerard leaned down with his hands on his knees, adopting a patronizing manner as if addressing a young child, "And what would preclude you from substantiating your argument, boy? Hmm?"

Frank gritted his teeth angrily, "I'm. Not. Soft."

"Prove it. My perception of your resilience is duly acknowledged, but, perhaps it is now an opportune juncture to explore the deeper and more unchartered territories of your submissive inclinations?"

"Gladly."

Gerard stood upright, a subtle nod of his head directing Frank's attention toward the playroom. Responding to the unspoken cue, Frank rose, making his way down the hallway with an assertive stride, reaching the door and holding it open in a gesture of deference for his Dominant to enter ahead. The scene illuminated as the lights flicked on, casting a revealing glow upon their surroundings.

"Clothes off, collar on." Positioned by the door, Gerard patiently awaited as Frank began to shed his clothing, a purposeful deliberation in his movements. This time, Frank took charge of fastening his own play collar, his hands moving with a certain determination. As he turned towards Gerard, his gaze evaded direct eye contact, focusing instead on a point in Gerard's general direction. A measured step forward marked his progression, a blend of anticipation and reticence woven into his demeanor, "Do you consent? Use your words."

"Yes, sir."

"Look at me." Gerard whispered and Frank willed his head up, locking eyes with his Dominant as he continued to speak, "We are going to push your limits but I don't want you to try and surpass your own physical limitations just to prove a point, do you understand?"

Frank found himself grinding his teeth as Gerard's mocking words still rang in his head. He tried to push them aside because he knew that a reaction is exactly what was expected of him, but he nodded ruefully, "Yes, sir. I won't, sir."

"Promise me. This isn't a competition, boy."

"I promise, sir."

"I hope you've done your stretches." Gerard walked as he rolled his sleeves back up despite only just having pulled them down a few minutes prior. Frank tilted his head, his hands behind his back as he waited and watched in diligent silence. He found himself curling his toes into the shag of the Persian rug, watching as Gerard took out a black leather armbinder. Frank's eyes widened, and Gerard's cryptic statement finally made sense in regards to the 'stretches'.

His fingers laced together behind him, a grunt escaped Frank as Gerard applied force, simultaneously retracting his arms and bending him over. An air of defiance punctuated his huff as his arms were ensnared in the binder, the tightness accentuated once the shoulder straps had been secured beneath his jointed shoulders. Restricted within this confining embrace, he squirmed as much as his compromised position allowed, only to feel the weight of a hand on the back of his head - its presence a cautionary restraint. The tone that escaped his lips was notably deeper, its timbre carrying a hint of intensity that contrasted the casualness of his earlier stretching remark. It made Frank's insides twist as though he were talking to a stranger with ominous intentions. His voice was soft, never raised above a calm cadence but it had deepened and slowed, carrying a weightier undertone, as emotions infused it with a somber and intense quality that made Frank shudder. "Don't test my patience on top of things, boy."

Suppressing the urge to roll his eyes, Frank maintained his composure, his attention fixed as Gerard retrieved the chain from the ceiling-mounted roller-rig. A hand found its place between his shoulder blades, coaxing his back into alignment as his wrists were simultaneously elevated, resulting in Frank's involuntary bowing to accommodate the unorthodox angle his arms were coerced into. His wrists were secured to the chain, rendering him immobilized against his volition. The dull ache pervading his muscles and joints only reinforced his disdain for the current arrangement, a sentiment palpable amidst his constrained position.

Frank grimaced and yelped when Gerard flicked his cheek sharply, grunting as the blood began to run to his head and made his cheeks feel heavy. He kept his eyes shut and did his best to stay silent as Gerard crouched down and fastened a pair of thick cuffs around his ankles. His eyes opened almost immediately when he felt them being stretched far apart by the bar that Gerard had attached. Frank grunted as he edged his feet further and further apart, the ache now traveling from his shoulders to his hip joints. He tried to look up and watch his Dominant who had walked away, wondering what was in store for him other than some slightly uncomfortable predicament bondage.

Gerard set a large black bowl on a tall metal tray and wheeled it over, and Frank could smell something chemical emanating from within the concrete, wok-looking container. He was now thoroughly confused - it smelled like a hardware store. Gerard smiled when he saw his submissive's perplexed expression, "Denatured alcohol is body safe in comparison to kerosene."

Frank swallowed and eyed the bowl again, an immediate well of anxiety in his stomach. The curious submissive watched as Gerard immediately ignited the bowl with a soft but audible 'whoosh' by turning a small lever on the side. Frank's yelp echoed through the air, his gaze shifting to his Dominant with a flicker of genuine concern. As flames danced before him, his heart raced, entwining with his accelerating thoughts that raced through countless conclusions, his eyes widening in the process.

"Tell me your safe word, runt."

"Pineapple," Frank stated, his eyes unwavering from the flames.

"Good boy. Ethanol and water, when blended, ignite with the flashpoint ascending from fifty-five degrees to sixty-eight. And within this modest fire pit, a carefully contained conflagration takes shape - a controlled dance of flames within hands that wield mastery over their every flicker, boy."

The fire nestled amid the black stones cast a mesmerizing glow, rendering Gerard's skin flawless and akin to alabaster. His hair seemed to mirror the nearby heat source in color so deep and warm, an ethereal cascade of strands. Gerard's hand grasped a wooden staff, its rounded end encased in a material resembling tulle. Submerging it into the flame, he raised it to his face, scrutinizing the blaze before his gaze shifted to his anxious submissive, capturing Frank's demeanor within his field of vision, "You're going to take what I give you."

Frank's complexion paled further, a muted nod acknowledging Gerard's instruction, as a current of fear mingled with his already apprehensive thoughts. Gerard extended the fire's proximity to Frank's skin, eliciting an instinctual recoiling as he attempted to retreat from the scalding intensity. Regret for the choices that had steered him to this juncture surged within him, amplifying the emotions coursing through his veins. He tried to suck in his stomach as the heat began to hurt his skin and, before Frank could move, Gerard skillfully rolled the staff down Frank's side with a flourish, extinguishing the flame on his flesh. Frank clenched his jaw so hard that it hurt, so vividly aware of the saliva that had begun to pool under his tongue and in his jowls, but he refused to make a sound.

He watched Gerard put the round end back in the fire to ignite it once more and extinguish it on Frank's thigh in the same fluid motion. His leg almost buckled at the pain, and a sweat had broken out on his brow, but he refused to give in now. His vision blurred around the edges but he could see Gerard relight the mallet a third time, and a scream left him when this flame was put out on his very-most inner thigh. His leg trembled and his chest rose and fell heavily, the chain above him pulled as tight as possible as it held up his weight. His toes burned as they dug into the carpet.

He glanced up to see Gerard holding an entirely different rod, this one was longer and thinner, and instead of being a treated wood, this one was made from metal. The very end of it was sitting in the raging fire, the middle of it resting on the outer rim of stones. He picked it up to examine the glowing bright red end and Frank's stomach dropped. In the amber glow of the flames, his Dominant's eyes looked black despite their usual emerald hue. Frank didn't know if he was possessed, if it was a trick of the light, or if the idea of hurting his submissive to such a degree had dilated his pupils in the same way as cocaine, but it made his stomach drop. It was terrifying, haunting, and ethereal all at once.

He was deep in his own subspace, but he was still aware of his surroundings, and he knew enough to realize that glowing metal would hurt. As he tried to swim through the miasma of pain from his burning skin, he observed Gerard returning the poker to the fire, allowing it to heat up once more before deftly lifting it Frank was still unsure of the purpose of the metal rod until he saw the end of it. It was a gilded crest shape with filagree in the corners embellishing the shape of an elegant but poignant 'G'. It was hard-edged but dignified just like the beholder of the branding iron itself.

With a deft and unwavering grip, Gerard held the poker aloft in his practiced hand, granting his quivering submissive who had now commenced an incessant stream of tears, a view of the contents nestled within those elongated fingers, "No one else is ever going to want you now. You're all mine."

Frank's eyes widened and he let out a sob, shaking his head as he thrashed in the binds that held him in place but it was no use. Gerard didn't even seem to care in the slightest, his darkened eyes glowing in the flame, zeroed in on Frank's tattooed skin. He found a small patch on the outer of Frank's thigh just below the edged crescent of his hipbone and pressed the brand right into his flesh.

Frank screamed out, a guttural cry that gurgled in his throat, the pain flooding his brain in waves. He could have sworn that he passed out for a second, the white-hot throbbing in his skin only reverberating when the iron pulled away, giving way to cold and excruciating air to touch the anguished and livid nerves. His right leg had officially given out, crumbling under the weight of an exhausted submissive. He was wheezing and crying and covered in a sheen of sweat thanks to the nearby heat.

Gerard scoffed, "Oh, please. You can take it, you've had worse."

Frank's voice cracked as a sob escaped him, his head attempting a feeble shake amidst the swirl of his thoughts, his vision blurring and quivering, "Please-"

"You can take it."

"Please stop." Frank begged, his voice cracking and ending in a loud, broken cry as Gerard put out another fire on his chest. Concealing the stick behind his back, Gerard leaned in, his voice dripping with condescension as he mimicked Frank's whimpers and cries, just as Frank's drool continued to fall. The puddle of spit had spread across the staunch fibers of the carpet where his knees had been at the beginning of their scene.

Once again, Gerard lifted the wooden rod, holding it aloft. Frank's head drooped momentarily between his shoulders, only for his fear to jolt him upright as he witnessed the advancing flames headed in the direction of his crotch. He shrieked in fright and tried to move away, begging and pleading for Gerard to stop. He wriggled and flailed, "No! No, stop! Don't- No! P-Pineapples!"

Gerard stopped immediately and put the fire out in his hand as if it were a gentle breeze. He stepped closer to inspect Frank's tear-stained face, "Red or yellow?"

"Y-Yellow..." Frank whispered.

Rising to his feet, Gerard approached Frank with a small sip of water, carefully assisting him in raising his head to drink and swallow without the threat of choking. Despite his involuntary trembling, much of the water ended up trickling down Frank's chin.

"Only yellow, are you sure?" Gerard whispered and Frank gave him a solitary nod, giving his Dominant the weakest stink-eye he could muster. Gerard brushed Frank's sweaty hair back, "Good boy." Frank whined weakly and leaned into the touch as Gerard spoke again, "I'm going to push you again, do you understand?"

With a gentle stroke against Frank's cheek, Gerard's touch was fleeting before he turned his attention to the firepit, swiftly extinguishing it and wheeling it toward a nearby vent to cool. A soft hum accompanied his perusal of his implements, his gaze assessing each one meticulously, seeking to maximize the potential for suffering.

From a black briefcase, Gerard extracted a long cord which he promptly plugged into a socket within the open case, its seal of safety broken. Despite the sweat stinging his eyes and the pains gnawing at his chest, Frank kept a watchful eye on his nearby Dominant. He was holding what looked like a glass toothbrush, and Frank was doing his best to wrack his brain through the muck and mire of his subspace to remember what it was, but when he saw the brilliant purple electricity run through it to spike Gerard's finger, his blood ran cold. He'd never experienced a violet wand before, and he hadn't even realized they owned one until now.

Placing the briefcase onto the tall end table beside Frank, Gerard toggled the switch. A faint hum of battery-powered electricity resonated beside him, casting a faint haze over the back of his eyes. His gaze remained fixed on Gerard, observing as he switched the attachment from a small glass end to a thin glass rod topped with a substantial, flat disc. The Dominant practically barked at Frank for looking at him without permission, and Frank hung his head once more, accepting his fate. A thick spindrel of drool fell from Frank's tongue and landed with a quiet albeit damp thump on the carpet. He closed his eyes and felt Gerard run the cold glass from his navel up to his sternum. There was a pause as the glass left his skin, but it was broken when Frank was suddenly zapped right on his left nipple. It hurt like shit and Frank wanted to scream, especially when it happened a second time in close succession.

"Giving up already?" Gerard clicked his tongue, "What a shame."

Frank winced sharply as he was zapped right in the stomach a few times. His muscles tensed, a shiver coursing through him as the electric charge triggered involuntary convulsions in his frame. The sensation was overpowering, seizing control of his entire consciousness, and his plaintive whimpers harmonized with each jolt that traversed his body.

The feet hurt most, second only to his balls for obvious reasons. But it was when Gerard had snuck in an electric shock right to his taint that Frank called it. He couldn't take any more of his Dominant's torture. He wasn't sure how long he had been hanging there, but it was enough.

Gerard released him from his binds, and with an unsteady transition, Frank found himself on his feet. As Gerard wiped him down haphazardly with a nearby towel, words of praise and comfort flowed from his lips like a soothing balm. Frank's thighs quaked with an almost violent vulnerability, their strength eroding beneath the assault of sensations, leaving him teetering on the edge of collapse. He clung to Gerard for support, each step an arduous effort as he navigated from the playroom to the main bedroom. The world seemed to blur and distort around him, his consciousness enveloped in a haze of weakness and disorientation. As Gerard guided him to sit on the bed, Frank's body continued to shake, the tremors a tangible reflection of the internal storm raging within him.

With a feeble gaze, Frank peered at his Dominant as his play collar was tenderly unfastened and lifted away. Firm hands guided him to recline, and his surprise heightened when Gerard settled beside him, his pants unfastened in a display of unexpected intimacy. The world around Frank seemed to waver, his sense of strength and focus further dimmed by the haze that enveloped him.

"W-What about aftercare?" Frank asked as Gerard wrapped a hand around him to stroke him slowly. The surprising action made Frank gasp, tendrils of pleasure ricocheting through his nervous system - he had no idea just how hard he had become, the pain had overthrown every other possible feeling. He was still in so much pain, and he knew he would be taken care of in due course, but this just made it all the better. He reached a shaky hand into Gerard's slacks, palming him as best he could despite the angle. The soft moan of approval was enough to send the submissive soaring once again.

"In this case, mutual handjobs count as initial aftercare."