a continuation of leathermouth frank kidnapping younger ftm reader? tattoo is finally healed up, he’s planning to keep you forever, takes you almost everywhere he goes. whenever you have a prescription to pick up he picks it up for you, doesn’t want you to do too too much, now.
he’s training you, but toying with you none the less. he gave you the rapebait tramp stamp for a reason.
but i was thinking it was that leathermouth show, and he brought you along (of course he did.) he keeps you backstage so you can watch, ready to go into the bus when he instructed you to. he loves to use you after a show. wether it be as a fuckdoll or urinal,,,,,or both:3 anything u want
love you bad whiskey you are the dog to my bunny
frank stumbled backstage, dizzied head barely leading him to where he knew you were left; your leash tied up to a pole. you were secured there, but he was still worried, of course. he was your owner; he had to worry for you! he saw you immediately, sighing in relief. you panted at the joy of seeing your owner, but when you tried to crawl over to him, your leash wouldn't allow it. he smiled, crouching down to run a sweaty hand over your head, pressing down on the clicker tool he kept in his pocket.
you smiled at that, barking. “good dog,” frank huffed, untying your leash from the pole, helping you stand. your owner was so gentle sometimes. he loves you so much. he placed a hand on the small of your pack, right where your tattoo was covered by your thin wifebeater. owner never let you cover up too much. frank led you along, and you stood a few steps behind him. owner goes first, good dogs stay behind their owner’s. he led you to a familiar area, the bus. he had demanded separate buses after getting you, saying a growing pup needed space. you know it was just so nobody would hear him rape you.
he lead you onto the bus, locking the door behind him and telling you to “heel.” you scrambled next to him, standing straight and smiling only when he pressed down on the clicker. “good mutt. fuck, you’re so obedient. it’s like you’re asking to be raped.” he ran his hand over your head again, petting you like he would a real dog. but you are a real dog. you’re his dog.
frank tugged your leash, hard enough to make you stumble, “on the ground, mutt.” and he snapped his fingers, pointing towards the carpeted floor below him. you rushed to obey, kneeling beneath him and looking up at him, begging for something you can't name. mercy? attention? to be fucked? your poor dog brain doesn't know. it’s alright. your owner will help you.
frank let out a huff, unzipping his white pants. you opened your mouth automatically, something he’d trained into you the first week. he pulled out his cock, which was only half hard. he stroked it a bit, before you flinched back as something hot and fluid hit your face. he laughed, “stupid whore,” before aiming for your mouth. you were able to open your eyes, watching as his steaming piss went into your mouth. it was sour and bitter and salty; you wanted to gag, but you knew where that’d lead. you swallowed every so often, wincing as hot piss went down your throat, warming your body.
when the stream finally, finally ended, he wiped the tip of his cock off on your cheek, tapping it against your jaw before petting your head, “yeah, that’s right. good mutt.” you basked in the attention, leaning closer to his hand. frank just laughed, smacking you lightly on the cheek, “stupid rapemeat. fuckin’ whore, get on your bed.” he commanded, and you scattered off, crawling on hands and knees to your dog bed.
frank followed you, walking behind as you had your metaphorical tail tucked between your legs. “good boy.” you perked up at that. it was rare he called you anything but a dog, whore or rapebait. your owner was feeling kind today, it seemed. “kneel on the dogbed. i’ll gonna have you in your full gear soon, i need your knees working good.” he commented lightly, and you obeyed, kneeling on the bed.
frank tapped his cock on your bottom lip, “take your treat. you were such a good boy today.” he pressed down the clicker when you took him in, immediately putting his hand behind your head to fuck your face. you were drooling all over his sock, making hungry noises and whimpers. it was sloppy, saliva leaking out of the corners of your mouth. you knew your owner liked it this way. he was fucking into your head like it was a hole, which clued you into the fact that he wasn't gonna let you cum tonight.
you whined at the thought, triggering him to shove down your throat. you held back a gag, throat fluttering around him. he held your face down, using his free hand to plug your nose with a pinch, laughing at your brief panic before releasing it. you wanted to gasp for air, but all you could do was breathe heavily through your nose as he kept fucking your face.
“fuck, ‘m gonna cum down your dumb rapebait throat. stupid fuckin’ mutt, fuck, you’re so dumb.” frank rambled, biting down on his bottom lip as he came, cum flooding your mouth and leaking out of the corners, no matter how hard you tried to swallow.
you choked, coughing and sputtering. frank just smiled, “good mutt. good fuckin’ boy.”
