THREE: Vanilla Down Your Throat

18: I Kinda Miss the Freedom a Little, Y'know?

"And what do you say, boy?"

Frank let out a sob, his skin burning as he was spanked yet again, squirming over his Master's lap, "Thank you, sir."

He got a few warm-up slaps to his skin in between before another big spank of Gerard's hand sent ripples of sheer agony through his system. He had been ugly crying for ages now and was already on spank number eighteen.

What Gerard hadn't stated about the counter clicker beforehand, was that for every tally, it was two spanks. And Frank foolishly humored under the impression that he was receiving a measly fifteen, when in actual fact, he was getting thirty.

He felt an arm wrap around his middle and he was held down as he received number nineteen and twenty in quick succession, one to each cheek. He quietly begged for Gerard to stop, scrambling over his legs because it fucking hurt so bad.

He felt a slap to his head, "Don't forget your manners."

"Th-Thank you." He sniffed, "Thank you, sir."

Frank was standing in his bedroom that evening, his pants dropped around his thighs, as he looked over his shoulder in the mirror at the bruises and welts on his ass from the spanking he had received that afternoon. Gerard had made sure to do it with enough time afterward to engage in aftercare before he had a huge meeting to attend to with his campaign board.

He promised Frank that he would only be a few hours since it was a Saturday and it was technically 'their time' together. And Frank didn't mind too much, because he knew that Gerard really didn't have much of a choice.

Frank had finished all of his chores before he had even received his punishment, so when Gerard and Lindsey vanished for their meeting and left him alone, he felt rather lost in what to do with his time. He sighed as he carefully pulled his shorts back up, thinking to himself.

He made his way downstairs and into the kitchen with the idea that he was going to run with the one thing he knew Gerard liked besides his butt - his cooking. He was going to make them some dinner as he had done for Gerard's birthday except this time, they weren't going to get distracted. He sat at the counter, swinging the barstool seat slowly from side to side as he started looking online for inspiration.

He made a list of what he was going to make and the necessary ingredients, and decided to borrow Lindsey's car again. He climbed in and put his seatbelt on, his phone in the holster, as he drove off. He dialed Gerard's number, waiting for an answer.

"Frank?"

"Hi, sir. I hope I didn't interrupt your meeting." Frank smiled when he heard his Master's voice, turning out of their street and onto the main road.

"We actually stepped out to have some tea and a bathroom break. Is everything okay at home?"

"Oh, yeah. I'm just driving to the grocery store quickly. Do you need anything?"

"Actually, I wouldn't mind if you could pick up my insulin. I'll email you the prescription and if they need to phone and confirm, I'll be available for the next half hour."

"Gotcha." Frank pulled up at the stoplight, "Sir?"

"Yes, boy?"

"Would it be okay if I started looking at getting a new car sometime? I feel bad for using Lindsey's or shuttling with you. I kinda miss the freedom a little, y'know?"

Gerard let out a hum, "We can look at it tomorrow perhaps. We can get Ty's opinion on whatever you decide, he knows his way around engines and what have you."

"I'd really appreciate it." Frank glanced at his phone and saw the email come through, "Got your mail, sir. I'll see you later."

"Behave yourself, my prince."