!! RAINE !!

One specific morning, he had been much more clingy and high maintenance compared to usual. Sure, Trevor was always rather needy and affectionate, often requiring some form of attention almost 24/7. However, today had been different. Rather than simply capturing you within a long and firm hug, basically strangling you within his grasp until you had exclaimed that you were gonna be late for work. Instead, he had transformed into something similar to that of an insecure child, searching relentlessly for their mothers attention.

As you prepared for your shift, Trevor had continuously observed you from the comfort of your shared bed, like some sort of sailor lost at sea, relentlessly pleading with you to simply remain home. He had attempted to bribe you with promises including "If you just stay home and we can cuddle all day, sugar." And "Ill do whatever you want: I'll buy the groceries, fix the sink, give you a fuckin' massage. Please, just stay home." However, he wasn't quite as happy when you had eventually responded with "You should be doing those things anyway." Paired with a rather exhausted roll of your eyes and a somewhat annoyed sigh.

Once he finally perceived the reality that your decision had remained unwavering, Trevor had eventually resorted to basic begging, pleading with you as if a gun was currently pressed against his temple. "Please, please, please, sugar, just stay home. I think I might die if you leave." He had desperately exclaimed, all whilst reaching for your hips, attempting to drag you back into the confines of the sheets. However, you had successfully avoided his efforts with the usage of a physical dodge, an action that had only further upset Trevor.

Ultimately, you had remained firm, explaining that you were required to attend your shift, how it was not expectable for an adult to skip work, and that you would return within the evening. You weren't just a care free teenager anymore, a foolish kid who was able to avoid their responsibilities without any form of repercussions. At your age, simply skipping work could possibly get you terminated, and you certainly needed the money.

Of course, Trevor had both huffed and whined within response, obviously failing to except the reality of the situation. As some sort of last resort, he had even attempted to further convince you through the usage of his most adorable puppy dog expression: Vision both wide and pleading, lips tilted into a subtle frown, and thick lashes repeatedly fluttering. However, no matter how cute such an appearance truly was, when you had ultimately remained firm, failing to fall for such bribery, and finally adding that he was to "clean up a bit" during your brief absence, Trevor's sorrow had swiftly transformed from mere sadness and quickly morphed into complete rage.

"Fuck you then!" He had screamed as you excited the house, promptly departing for the work shift he had been so determined for you to avoid.

As you ventured outside, you could perceive the audio of the tantrum actively occurring from the interior of your home, including: The sound of his swearing, the audio of various objects being thrown, and the noise of his angry stomps. Additionally, you were almost certain that the house was basically shaking, as a result of his pure fury. God, he could be such a baby sometimes.

In all honesty, you had simply assumed that he'd eventually tire himself out after a bit of screaming. You presumed that Trevor would successfully express his emotions through the usage of rather immature actions (such as: Yelling, punching, and even possibly crying), before he ultimately ran out of energy. Typically, during such mental distress, Trevor would stew within his rage for a few hours, eventually lose stamina and collapse upon the couch, before finally surrendering. Once he was successfully exhausted, he would eventually decide to clean the dishes, tend to the trash, and maintain the floor, just as you had requested. Your boyfriend was always determined to please you, doing almost anything to properly satisfy you.

However, this was Trevor you were regarding, so you certainly shouldn't have been surprised when you eventually returned home to an even larger mess compared to before.

Previously, prior to your departure for work, the house had just been a bit untidy, with a sink full of dirty dishes, forgotten clothing in need of a wash, and a floor that could thrive with a simple vacuuming. Yet, once you had finally returned home, after almost ten hours of constant labour, it had honestly appeared as though a tornado had tore through the house during your absence. Now, there was an array of empty beer bottles both abandoned and forgotten throughout the home, numerous plates and various photo frames had been smashed upon the floor, and trash was now littered across the ground.

As you entered the house, prepared to simply remove your restrictive uniform before swiftly collapsing onto the couch, you had soon discovered that such relaxation wasn't entirely guaranteed. Instead, as you pushed through the front door, you instantly discovered muddy boot prints tracked across the carpet, garbage scattered throughout the home, and your basically nude (except for his remaining underwear) boyfriend currently unconscious upon the sofa. Trevor was actively napping as if he had just participated within hours worth of exercise, like he was the one who had just returned from work. And in all honesty, due to just how ransacked the house currently appeared, he most likely was completely exhausted.

You were silent for a moment, completely astonished by the view currently located before you. It was so insane, it was genuinely shocking. In any other situation, you might have been amused. The entire occurrence was similar to a scene retrieved straight from the 1993 Dennis the Menace movie. You wondered how a singular person could achieve such destruction within such a short period of time? However, such surprise was quickly replaced by utter rage as you breached the thresh hold of your home.

"Trevor Philips." You had exclaimed through grit teeth, voice both low and glazed with audible anger, within the same manner you might address a naughty dog who had just chewed up the furniture.

Immediately, the sound of your rather unexpected voice, along with your audible frustration, had instantly disrupted Trevor's rest. Obviously, his previous anger had finally simmered, causing your boyfriend to become completely worn and exhausted as he collapsed upon the couch. Only God knows how long he had been asleep for. However, he had failed to properly redeem himself before your eventual return. And as soon as he had perceived your presence, Trevor's vision instantly flickered open and a wave of dread exploded across his features whilst he flew from the couch. Within that exact moment, Trevor had depicted that of a frightened puppy dog, vision wide and chin tilted against his chest, like he had just been caught red handed. If he had a tail, it would certainly be tucked between his legs.

"Get up." You growled.

Maybe you had been attempting to set him straight, to inform Trevor how to properly behave. Or, it was entirely possible that you were simply trying to punish him, to reprimand your boyfriend after he had so blatantly both disobeyed and disrespected you. Whatever the reason may have been, it concluded with you situated upon his lap.

Trevor was properly secured to the bed, wrists and ankles tied to the bed frame as you bounced relentlessly upon his cock. Tears were actively glazing his vision, sobs occasionally escaping the confines of his throat whenever you would reward him with a swift slap across any portion of his exposed skin. You were attempting to punish him, to make him regret each and every occasion in which he had so blatantly defied you. And in all honesty, it was the most pleasurable pain Trevor had ever received within his entire life. He wasn't quite sure if he should beg for mercy or praise you like some sort of Goddess.

"You've been a very bad boy, Trevor. I ask you to do one thing while Im gone, one fucking thing, and you decide to throw a fit? Are you a baby, Trevor? Did you just wanna make mommy mad?" You inquired, tone laced with venom as you scolded him.

You were well aware of Trevor's fondness towards any type of motherly figure. He had always been so desperate to please you, often hanging upon your every word. At first, you had been a bit confused by his constant requirement of both your praise and approval. However, the moment in which he had initially regarded you as "mommy" within bed, it had suddenly all made sense.

Therefore, you had attempted to utilize his most intimate weakness against him: If he wanted a mother, then you would scold him just like one. Maybe then he would learn to actually clean up after himself.

With your hands actively braced against the barrier of his nude chest, your rhythm remained unfaltering. Each stroke of your entrance gliding across the expanse of his cock was like some form of torture, and with the new found position, you were able to only further intensify just how rough such movements were. You were actively bouncing upon his shaft as harsh as you could possibly managed. Yet, upon each occasion in which you ass had collided against his hips once more, Trevor never failed to respond with a desperate mewl.

In response to your previous claim, Trevor had suddenly bit down upon his lower lip, as if to physically refrain from releasing a depraved sob. However, as he frantically shook his head, you certainly weren't ignorant to the rather thick groan that had began to form within the depths of his throat.

His features were practically contorted into an expression of pain, brows furrowed, vision squeezed shut, and teeth latched into the flesh of his lower lip. In all honesty, you were surprised that he hadn't managed to draw blood yet. However, such details failed to successfully dismiss the manner in which his body would physically react to each stroke and every ounce of attention you had rewarded him with. No matter how pained he truly appeared, Trevor continued to shutter in moan following each bounce and every thrust. He was enjoying this within the same manner an alcoholic savors beer: Within the most depraved yet addicting way possible.

"N-Never wanna make you m-mad, mommy." He stuttered, hips momentarily faltering from beneath you, unsure whether to further grind into the embrace of your warmth or attempt to stray away from your relentless affection.

Yet, you weren't foolish enough to fall for such a simple form of trickery. You did not immediately accept his answer. No. In fact, you were well aware of Trevor and his antics, informed of the reality that he would say almost anything in order to gain what he had truly desired. Therefore, instead, you had rewarded him with yet another, sharp slap across the face, the sting of impact causing a garbled moan of pleasurable pain to immediately escape from his lips.

"Don't lie to me, baby. You don't like liars, remember? Do you want me to stop right now?" You cooed, voice both soft and tender, teasing to an almost sickening extent, purring towards him as if he was some sort of foolish child.

"N-No!" He frantically exclaimed, vision now wide at the mere thought of you denying him of his own pleasure.

In return, you released a rather thoughtful hum, as if you were genuinely considering his claim.

"Then what do you want?" You inquired, a devious little smirk slowly inching across your lips.

You were well aware of exactly what he had desired: The same thing he had been begging for since the moment you had first fastened him to the bed. However, the idea of further teasing and tormenting him was rather appealing, only extending both his punishment and physical agony with the usage of meaningless words.

"F-Fucking Christ! P-Please let me cum, mommy, please!" He whined, hips stuttering hopelessly against your own.

Suddenly, your movements slowed to an almost grueling pace, each grind both languid and leisurely as you continued to tease his teetering orgasm. Such an extremely unexpected pause had caused Trevor to release a mewl of dismay, his head suddenly writhing back and forth against the sweat drenched pillows beneath him, as if the sensation of you further denying his own finish was comparable to that of being physically burned.

"Are you gonna be a good boy?" You asked, utilizing the most demeaning tone possible, as if he was a complete idiot.

Much too consumed by the pleasure, Trevor had ignored such degrading. Typically, he would become utterly enraged in response to anyone regarding him with the usage of such a humiliating tone. However, within that exact moment, Trevor had simply started to frantically nod his head, saliva continuously dripping from his lips as if he was some sort of wild animal.

"F-Fuck yes! I'll be a g-good boy. I-I'll do whatever you want. I'll do the c-cleaning, the laundry, even the f-fucking g-gardening! Whatever you w-want, mommy. Please, please, just don't stop. Please just let me fucking c-cum." He begged, voice now pitched and high as a result of his shear desperation.

At that point, you had been continuously torturing him for about an hour, rhythm unfaltering as you relentlessly thrust against his dick, making it extremely clear that he was not to cum without your permission. Trevor had never been the type to last very long, especially not when you were actively slapping him across the face and regarding him as a "bad boy," as if he was some sort of naughty dog. In all honesty, he had been on the verge of finishing since the moment you had pushed him onto the mattress. It was a miracle he hadn't managed to cum a long while ago.

"Hmmm." You hummed, as if you were genuinely considering his request; finally happy with his obvious desperation, you had agreed "Alright."

Now provided with your proper approval, Trevor released a rather dramatic moan, hips stuttering to life once more as he began to thrust into you without mercy. His pace was frantic, swift, and rapid, moving so quickly, you were worried the friction might cause a fire. All whilst he both whimpered and whined, tears spilling down his cheeks as he gasped for air.

It didn't take long for his orgasm to arrive, his hips suddenly halting as he buried his cock as far inside of you as possible. Completely consumed by the warmth of your core, he expelled rope after rope of his own semen, drenching your insides with the evidence of his arousal. Trevor physically shuttered from beneath you, bed shaking under the force of his pleasure. After over an hour of your relentless torture, his orgasm was only intensified, washing over him like a violent wave.