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If one were to describe Frank Iero, well-behaved would not be one of the words one would find themselves using, or at least Bob wouldn’t use it, because Frank Iero was an absolute gremlin of a man that took every opportunity to test his boundaries. There was absolutely no exception to this. Nothing was sacred to Frank, as Bob would soon learn.
After getting home, Bob was weary and worn. He needed a good distraction, that being Frank, his somewhat beloved boyfriend yet oft obnoxious housemate.
He had to admit that sometimes it was nice to see him and his cheeky grin when he arrived home after work. The guy was like a labrador, minus the tail and the floppy ears, though wouldn’t you know it, that when Bob arrived, that was just what he wanted.
The pair of them had a routine, you see. When Bob got home, Frank would get into his gear and decompress from his own workday as a puppy, ears, tail, collar, and all. It was amusing to watch on the average day, but Bob was tired enough that he decided to let Frank do as he wished just as long as he could watch his show and relax for a bit, ultimately nodding off on the couch.
Some time later, he was rudely awakened by a weight dropping onto his lap and rolling around. It was obviously Frank, still in his gear and looking for some much needed attention.
Groggily, Bob opened his eyes and scritched Frank’s mop of dark hair and down his back. At least until he noticed what Frank had brought to him, immediately snatching it out of his teeth.
“You little-, what’d you go ahead and do that for, fucker?” Bob demanded, holding up one of his favorite converse, or at least, what was left of it. Frank only answered with the same brown, puppy dog eyes he always did, plopping himself down on the other side of their shared couch.
“You know what that means, right?”
Frank perked up immediately, shooting up on his hands and knees and curtly barked. His bottom began waggling frantically making his ridiculous tail flop side to side.
“No, no, no. This isn’t a treat,” Bob agitatedly sighed before continuing, “this is a punishment! You ruined one of my shoes you prick!”
His partner whimpered, his intense wiggling coming to a halt, his tail however took a moment to catch the memo.
“Bad boys get spanked, Frank, and what you did was very naughty,” Bob elaborated, taking a moment to stroke his lover’s messy, dark hair before clutching a handful and exposing the pale line of his throat with its tapestry of tattoos. “And you know that, don’t you?”
Frank groaned in his hold and whimpered his reply.
With a huff, Bob released him and retreated to the bedroom with Frank hot on his heels. He should have known when he signed on for this that Frank would do something stupid like this. It wasn’t that he was against petplay or being his dom, quite the opposite. It was silly at first, watching Frank scramble around their home butt-naked on his hands and knees with a set of floppy puppy ears and a weirdass buttplug, but hey, his partner was happy. And what made him happy made Bob happy.
Only he was a bit unhappy at the moment, thanks to Frank’s destructive tendencies.
Bob approached the bed and popped open the bedside, digging out a wooden paddle that Frank eyed hungrily. “Face on the floor, mutt, it’s time for your punishment,” he stated, gesturing towards him with the paddle.
Eagerly, maybe a little too eagerly for his tastes, Frank turned around and presented his heavily tattooed ass. Bob sank to his knees, kneeling down, taking a long look at the way the plug sat nestled in Frank’s hole, before fitting the end of the tail between his fingers. Licking his lips, he swatted Frank’s bottom without warning.
His partner yelped in surprise and squirmed as Bob brought down the paddle again, a warm glint in his eyes.
“You gonna ruin my things again, puppy?” Bob asked, his tone calm as he dragged the paddle over the slowly reddening flesh.
“I-I’ll have to think about it,” Frank replied, his voice quivering.
That was certain not the correct answer. Puppies were supposed to behave and listen to their masters, not give out sassy retorts.
Bob swung the paddle harder this time, the sound of the impact ringing throughout the room. Frank cried out once more, unable to take the time to recover as Bob laid a quick series of slaps across the supple flesh, giving the faces on his bottom a nice shade of blush.
“Sorry, what was that, mutt? I think I misheard you.” Bob cocked a brow, listening patiently for a response.
Frank swallowed thickly, for once holding his tongue as he panted, catching his breath, his cock thick and leaking between his legs. He gave Frank another swift swat across the ass for his troubles.
“Answer, mutt. Are you going to ruin my things again?”
The floppy, stupid ears nestled in Frank’s messy hair shook frantically. “No, sir,” he at last replied.
“Are you done being a bad dog? You ready to be a good boy now?”
“Yes, sir,” Frank whined and a thick glob of precum dripped onto the carpet in response. Bob knew that’d get him.
With a grin, Bob set down the paddle and began admiring his handiwork, gently stroking the marks he’d left behind. “There’s my good boy,” he cooed as Frank flinched away from his touch with a wince. “Shush now, it’s okay. You did good, Frankie, so good.”
Bob didn’t miss the subtle twitch of Frank’s cock and chuckled, giving his tail a small twist, making his lover whimper.
“Kiss it better?” Frank gently requested.
“I’m not kissing your ass, you gremlin,” Bob retorted, scoffing and shaking his head. The nerve of this brat.
“Aw.” It was punctuated with a giggle, leaving Bob absolutely no choice but to give him a playful slap on the bottom. It’s what he deserved after all.