To BlueGemEyes from Calistal
Calistal
Title: What he needs
Rating: NC-17 for sexual situations
Disclaimer: If I owned it..I would have Chase locked up in my closet..
Pairing: House/Chase
Summary: Chouse Ficswap entry - He knows what he needs and he knows how to get it.
Warning: This fic contains a Dom/sub relationship. I don't claim to know anything about them other than casual knowledge I've picked up and the little bit of research I did. If Dom/sub bothers you, don't read.
Note: This fic is for bluegemeyes
Betas: polgara_5 and brokensoulwolf
What he needs
It was only like this every once in a while. They never did it the night before an early day at the hospital, because House wouldn’t be able to move. They never did it when House wasn’t in the mood. It didn’t matter what Chase wanted, it was all about House. House would leave a message on Chase’s home phone, while they were both at work, knowing that Chase wouldn’t get it until House let him go home. House took pleasure in the fact that he knew what was happening that night, and Chase didn’t. It was a sadistic turn of events, when House could leer lecherously at Chase, and Chase, unknowing, would stare at him with a deer in the headlights look that, as House had said, “Is so vogue this season.”
When Chase got home that evening, eight o’clock, of course, held over an extra two hours, for a case that he “had figured out in the first ten minutes if someone had just listened to me,” which was accompanied by a flip of his hair. He took off his lab coat, and hung it behind the closet door, while running his hands through his hair. He sighed and scratched the back of his neck, while heading to grab a soda from the fridge; but, before he could make it to the kitchen, he glanced over to the answering machine on the table by his kitchen door way. The red light flashed the number 1 five times before Chase snapped out of his stupor and walked calmly to the button.
“Tonight, Black Leather Whip, and you. 9pm sharp.” House’s voice ended there, but Chase knew what was happening the moment he heard the word ‘black’. His body began to respond accordingly, his memory supplying the lovely images immediately. He hurried to his bedroom to grab what he needed before running out the door. It was 8:20, and House’s apartment was 20 minutes away when the traffic wasn’t as devilish as it was now. As it was, Chase made it to the stoop at exactly 8:54. He took his time walking up the three steps, all the while reaching into his pocket with slightly shaking hands to grasp the key. The anticipation was getting to him, if his hands were beginning to shake.
He slid the key smoothly into the lock and it turned with what Chase had thought was deliberate slowness on the part of the doorknob. He took a breath in and with his out breath he let out his anticipation, and fell into a relaxed calm. He knew what was coming. This had happened before. Today was a bit different than their usual encounters. Sometimes they were lovers. Sometimes they were fighters. Sometimes they were co-workers. But tonight, they were something different. Tonight they were Master and Greg.
Chase opened the door with excruciating patience. Greg was sitting on the other side of the door, on his couch, waiting with an eager yet somewhat fearful mind. He knew that every time this happened, the next day, he would wake up in agonizing pain, but it was worth it. The time that Chase was in his apartment controlling him, he could forget almost entirely about the pain. The pain wasn’t something that his Master had ordered him to feel, so for the most part, he was able to route the pain away from his consciousness. This was only the third time in double that amount of months that this had happened. Sometimes, like now, the pain becomes too much and he has to do something to dull it for a time so that he doesn’t go any crazier than he already feels.
He automatically shifted his eyes downward, toward the floor, when he saw the door opening. He knew that Master didn’t like it when he looked him in the eyes, or even in the face. He played his part well: the submissive that loved to be dominated. It wasn’t the domination that got him off; well, it wasn’t just the domination that got him off. He never claimed to not be a kinky bastard, but the semi-painless night was what really got him going. He knew from previous play, that when Master was in the room, all of his concentration had “better fucking be on me, you pussy,” or, something to that tone. Chase very rarely cursed in his every day life, but when he became Master, it was part of the package.
“Have you been a very good boy, or did you torture people today? Is that why you asked for the whip?” Master’s Australian lilt floated softly across the living room to the piano stool where Greg was seated. He had been playing for the past hour to pass the time until Master arrived, but had stopped as soon as he heard the distinctive sounds of footsteps on his stoop. He had begun breathing deeply, letting the air out through his nose to calm his eagerness. It wouldn’t do to have Master see him enjoying himself by wallowing before He arrived. They both knew the rules of the game. Master was just that, the ruler, the one who pushed the meetings along to their inevitable endings. Greg was the submissive, the one that had the safe word, the one that could put this to an end with one whispered, “lupus” - they both knew it was never lupus, no matter what Cameron or Foreman thought. But for now, Master was in control; no safe word had been uttered; and they both wanted, no, needed the release of the game.
“I want you on your knees; because we both know it doesn’t hurt.” This was how it had always started, just to get House started into his delusion of painless movement. This always reminded him of a song he’d heard on the radio, "If you wanna kiss the sky, gotta learn how to kneel (On your knees, boy)". And he did; he did want to kiss the sky, and if he had to kneel to get there, he sure as hell wasn’t going to let his pride stop him this time, not with Master. With Master his pride didn’t exist. He had no reason to be prideful, he was just Greg, the one that asked for it. The one that wanted the pain and to have the control wrenched from his grasp.
“Good Greg.” That was the first praise of the night, and probably the first of only two. “I want you to unbutton me, but don’t touch me, don’t look at me, just the button. Do you understand?” Greg nodded, and slowly reached his hand up to lightly feel for the button. He wasn’t sure what Master was wearing, but it certainly felt like leather. Though he didn’t touch Master, he could feel the heat emanating from his groin. He knew that it would be a long while before he was allowed to touch Master, if he was at all. Sometimes Master just gave him his needs and neglected his own.
“Unzip me.” And Greg did. “Stand up, walk to the bedroom, do not use your cane. I’ll be there when I get there. Undress yourself. Come to think of it, you should have been undressed when I arrived. I suppose I’ll have to use the whip after all.” Greg shuddered from an overload of auditory sensation. Hearing words like that come out of his Master’s mouth made him even harder than he had been while kneeling. Master held out a black gym bag to Greg, “Take this with you. Place it beside the bed. Do not open it. Do not touch anything except the handles. Now go.”
Greg found himself walking cane free toward his bedroom in the back of the apartment. He felt only a slight twinge of pain with his limping gait, and knew that what Master was doing was really taking an effect. When he walked through the doorway, he didn’t even stop to turn on the light, because his Master hadn’t told him to do so. Though he never acted like it at work, he did know how to follow the rules, when it suited him, and did it suit him now. He stripped fairly quickly, folding his clothes and laying them on the chair beside his bed as he had been instructed the first night of their liaison. He was hard enough to pound nails, “or that’s what it feels like,” he mumbled under his breath. However, quickly after he had done this, he stopped and quickly looked around for Master to make sure he hadn’t been heard disobeying even an indirect order. He sighed in relief before settling himself on the bed, as he knew his Master would want.
After ten minutes of agonized waiting, Master came sauntering into the room, looking as unaffected as Greg was affected. He looked as though he had just come from a long relaxing bubble bath, with lavender bubbles, of course.
“I see you’ve done as I asked. I suppose there’s a first time for everything. Lay back on the bed and close your eyes.” Greg did so immediately. “You are going to receive a punishing. Your transgressions are such: failure to listen to a valid medical opinion from a part of your staff; purposeful lewd looks to that same member of your staff; purposefully making that said person on your staff late for a very important meeting; and last, not obeying a standing order to be nude at all times within your master’s presence.” Greg hadn’t realized that his teasing at work would be counted in with his punishments, along with his disobeying of the nudity rule; but he was slightly grateful that he didn’t have to break any more rules in his Masters presence. “Are there any other rules you’ve broken today, Greg? You may speak.”
Greg swallowed, “I did mumble something out loud when I walked into the bedroom alone after you had arrived.” When Master didn’t immediately answer with a scolding, Greg felt almost disappointed. He knew that this meant it would be counted as a minor offense; and minor offenses didn’t receive punishments. He needed punishment.
“I am disappointed; however, you were honest with me, and I appreciate honesty, Greg. This will not be included in your list of transgressions. Your punishment will be a sound whipping with 15 lashes using the leather whip. You will also not be allowed to come tonight until I say so. If you fail to control yourself, your punishment will be the immediate ceasing of this session tonight. If you agree to this deal and punishments, then look me directly in the eye, and nod your head twice.”
Greg took a deep breath, thought critically for a moment or two. On one hand, he accepted the punishments for his transgressions easily, even enjoyed them a bit. On the other hand, ending the session because he was over stimulated? That seemed a little extreme. But if he wanted this to continue on at all, he would have to accept. Against about half of his better judgment, House looked up into Chase’s eyes and nodded his head, twice. That sealed the deal. Now, for the rest of the night, until one of them put an end to it, he was under someone else’s control. He was under his duckling’s control. Sometimes it shocked him that he could relinquish his highly prized control. That he could humble himself to a level lower than someone he was supervising, but times like now, when that control that his Master had over him was complete, he wondered how he could ever take control of his life again. He never recognized that he would be back in control in the morning when he was Greg. All that he ever recognized was his Master and his orders.
“Stand up, walk to the end of the bed, and lay yourself across the end of the bed. It’s time for your whipping. Please prepare yourself. It’s going to hurt,” Master took a pause here, as though contemplating, and then softened his voice, “I promise.”
Greg heard the bag unzip, and the rustling as what he assumed was the leather whip was taken out of it. Three footsteps led Master back to Greg, and He raised the whip bringing it down on Greg’s back. An intake of breath, a quick out breath of pain, and then calm. Greg shuddered from the expected pain and pleasure. He hadn’t expected it to be so amazing, but it had been almost a month and a half since he had last experienced this full and total relief from the pain and psychological torture that his leg brought him. But he wasn’t thinking like that now, all that mattered was his next hit. Then the whip came down again. And again. And again, until he was trembling and there was sweat pouring down his forehead. He could feel his Master’s heat retreat from his proximity, and he almost groaned with disappointment, before he at the last second remembered The Rules. Not a sound. Every rule suddenly came rushing back through the haze of pleasure. He prayed for a moment to that non-existent god of his Master’s that he hadn’t broken a rule in his daze. He knew what was coming, even before his Master said a word. The best part was coming up: the torture that even he couldn’t match.
“You know, what’s coming, don’t you, Greg? You know that you’re going to enjoy it; that being beaten was only the beginning of your pain. You know it, and you’re reveling in it. Are you ready, greg? I think you are.” Master ran a finger down one of the stinging lashes, gathering sweat and a bead of blood that had come from one of the later harder lashes. He brought the finger of the blood and sweat to Greg’s lips. “This is your own blood and sweat, your own hard work and pain in physical form. Do you accept it? Do you understand that for the rest of your life, you’ll be living and shedding your life fluids for other people? Do not look at me, but nod once. I have to know that you accept this fact, otherwise, this exercise is pointless.”
For a split second, Greg thought that he might just shake his head no, and end it there. He didn’t want to accept the inevitability that helping people, even with a secondary impulse to the puzzle solving, was completely and utterly thankless. But he found himself nodding without thought and agreeing that he understood. He certainly hadn’t known that he understood that, but, he guessed his subconscious knew him better than he knew himself...well, wasn’t that a conundrum. Master, unaware of the confused goings on of Greg’s mind, continued on speaking.
“I’m glad you understand. I was beginning to think that there was no hope for you. But now I know. The only hope you have is to keep you sane, or at least with some semblance of sanity, and that’s why I’m here, isn’t it? You don’t have to answer, I know the truth. I also know what you need. Go lay on the bed. I have a new plaything for us.” Master walked at the same time as Greg, making his way, once again, to the black gym bag by the bed. He reached in and pulled out a ball gag, and a small rabbit vibrator. Greg stood stock-still. They’d used the ball gag before during their first time, when Master thought that Greg didn’t have control, but it wasn’t used in conjunction with anything else. The vibe looked almost menacing in proportion to the order he was given earlier. No finishing until he was told he could. Damn. He wasn’t sure how he was going to do this. He knew he had control. To look at Chase every day in those hideous ties, and only be able to picture him naked was a feat of control in its self, but that control was mental. Could he really hold up to that physical stimulation? He didn’t know, but he sure as hell was going to try.
Master fitted the ball gag around Greg’s head, into his mouth, and tied the leather straps at the back. Taking the moment, Master ran his hands through Greg’s hair, and gave him a small kiss on the forehead, before backing away and once again taking control of the room. House had almost lost control and snapped at Chase, but he quickly took a breath and regained his well-maintained self-awareness.
“I want you to get up on your knees, legs spread, and your wrists crossed behind your back. You may move, if you must, but nothing unnecessary or superfluous. I want you to concentrate only on my voice. Everything I say and every answer you give could be the difference in your coming, and my leaving. Pay very close attention to me, but I don’t want to hear a word unless I ask you a question. Got it? Good.”
Master turned on the vibe to its lowest setting and placed it at the tip of Greg’s cock. “Did you purposely keep me over at work?”
Greg heard the question, but through the very pleasant vibrations, he could barely think, but somehow he forced the answer out, “Y-yes.”
“Why?” The look on Master’s face was almost gleeful. The look on Greg’s face was almost panicked.
With a shaking breath, Greg answered, “I knew that I needed to be punished. I needed that distraction from the,” here he swallowed and gasped in a breath, “from the pain.” he clenched his teeth and tilted his head back so that he could look at the ceiling.
“Was that movement necessary?” Master asked this with a wide-eyed innocent look that Greg, but no one else could tell was patently fake. Greg knew that he had to answer; but at the time, he wasn’t sure he could still remember how to use his tongue, lips and teeth together to form a coherent word, let alone string many of them together to form a sentence; but somehow, he did.
“If you want me to fucking hold out as long as you want me to, it is.” Greg growled out through clenched teeth. Master grabbed him by the short hairs on the back of his head, and pulled him even further back, as his other hand holding the vibe deftly turned up the vibration to full.
“Don’t think you can hold out, do you? Let’s see. I don’t think you can either, which is why I’m going to be kind. Come, NOW.” And he did, in a very spectacular manner. But still, as a testament to his physical control, he stayed on his knees in the position dictated to him by his Master. Even though he was satisfied, his Master had not yet told him of his whim for his own pleasure.
“I am going to give you a choice. I can leave, and satisfy myself, or you can submit one more time, on your knees and suck me off. Which would you prefer? You don’t need to talk, just get up and walk away, or get on the floor in front of me.”
The choice was an easy one, and Greg, after dismounting from the bed, fell into a prone position in front of his still fully clothed master. “You may touch me, below my belt line, in anyway you see fit. I’m sure that I’ll enjoy it.” Greg couldn’t see it, but he could hear the smirk in Master’s voice. Greg also gained a smirk on his face, because he knew that with just a little bit of work, he could make his Master loose all of his previously maintained control. He grasped the sides of his Master’s leather pants and pulled them slowly down to see that his Master, as he always did, had gone commando. This made Greg’s job so much easier, since he didn’t have to worry about underwear or having to pay for the dry cleaning on his Master’s silk boxers if he didn’t get the damn things out of the way in time. Looking at his Master’s cock, he knew that he loved submission for something other than the pain. Making someone else out of control, to take their control from them without their realization, was an amazing rush and high that he didn’t know if he could live without. Knowing what it did to Master, Greg rubbed his stubble covered chin and cheeks lightly across the sensitive underbelly of His cock. He knew by the throbbing and heat he could feel coming from it that it wouldn’t be long before an eminent explosion. He snickered a bit in his mind at that thought before returning to his ‘job’. Realizing that just that slight amount of stimulation was making Master moan and beg for more, he knew that something had to be done quickly so that he didn’t miss the grand finale. Suddenly, surprising Master, greg took the head of Masters dick into his mouth and sucked hard, causing the overload of stimulation to truly break the barriers of his final wall of self-control, and cause him to come. Greg swallowed and swallowed until the convulsions stopped.
He made a very odd face at the taste, but sort of gave a small shrug. “You should seriously start to eat some cranberries or blueberries or something. Make that stuff sweeter, instead of that shit you’re eating to make it salty.”
Chase barked out a laugh and a huge grin came up on his face. “You, House, are one of the most peculiar people I’ve ever met. I don’t know whether to laugh at you or put you in an insane asylum. Either way, you’d enjoy it.” The grin hadn’t gone away five minutes later as Chase was cleaning up everything. House’s pain was only a twinge still, especially after his ‘happy time’ earlier. Chase was gathering his things, and changing into a pair of comfortable boxers and jeans, with an old t-shirt that he’d stolen a few weeks ago from one of House’s drawers.
“I guess I’ll see you on Monday morning?” Chase hesitantly asked House who was just getting into the bed and climbing under the covers.
“No, you’ll see me tomorrow when we wake up, now get your ass into this bed before I change my mind.” Chase happily threw his gym back into the corner, and took off his jeans and t-shirt and climbed into bed. House looked at Chase for a moment before looking down at his boxers that were just sticking out from under the covers. “You know, I just gave you a blow job, and you’re still wearing boxers. See anything wrong with this?” Chase just blushed and took off his underwear.
Title: What he needs
Rating: NC-17 for sexual situations
Disclaimer: If I owned it..I would have Chase locked up in my closet..
Pairing: House/Chase
Summary: Chouse Ficswap entry - He knows what he needs and he knows how to get it.
Warning: This fic contains a Dom/sub relationship. I don't claim to know anything about them other than casual knowledge I've picked up and the little bit of research I did. If Dom/sub bothers you, don't read.
Note: This fic is for bluegemeyes
Betas: polgara_5 and brokensoulwolf
What he needs
It was only like this every once in a while. They never did it the night before an early day at the hospital, because House wouldn’t be able to move. They never did it when House wasn’t in the mood. It didn’t matter what Chase wanted, it was all about House. House would leave a message on Chase’s home phone, while they were both at work, knowing that Chase wouldn’t get it until House let him go home. House took pleasure in the fact that he knew what was happening that night, and Chase didn’t. It was a sadistic turn of events, when House could leer lecherously at Chase, and Chase, unknowing, would stare at him with a deer in the headlights look that, as House had said, “Is so vogue this season.”
When Chase got home that evening, eight o’clock, of course, held over an extra two hours, for a case that he “had figured out in the first ten minutes if someone had just listened to me,” which was accompanied by a flip of his hair. He took off his lab coat, and hung it behind the closet door, while running his hands through his hair. He sighed and scratched the back of his neck, while heading to grab a soda from the fridge; but, before he could make it to the kitchen, he glanced over to the answering machine on the table by his kitchen door way. The red light flashed the number 1 five times before Chase snapped out of his stupor and walked calmly to the button.
“Tonight, Black Leather Whip, and you. 9pm sharp.” House’s voice ended there, but Chase knew what was happening the moment he heard the word ‘black’. His body began to respond accordingly, his memory supplying the lovely images immediately. He hurried to his bedroom to grab what he needed before running out the door. It was 8:20, and House’s apartment was 20 minutes away when the traffic wasn’t as devilish as it was now. As it was, Chase made it to the stoop at exactly 8:54. He took his time walking up the three steps, all the while reaching into his pocket with slightly shaking hands to grasp the key. The anticipation was getting to him, if his hands were beginning to shake.
He slid the key smoothly into the lock and it turned with what Chase had thought was deliberate slowness on the part of the doorknob. He took a breath in and with his out breath he let out his anticipation, and fell into a relaxed calm. He knew what was coming. This had happened before. Today was a bit different than their usual encounters. Sometimes they were lovers. Sometimes they were fighters. Sometimes they were co-workers. But tonight, they were something different. Tonight they were Master and Greg.
Chase opened the door with excruciating patience. Greg was sitting on the other side of the door, on his couch, waiting with an eager yet somewhat fearful mind. He knew that every time this happened, the next day, he would wake up in agonizing pain, but it was worth it. The time that Chase was in his apartment controlling him, he could forget almost entirely about the pain. The pain wasn’t something that his Master had ordered him to feel, so for the most part, he was able to route the pain away from his consciousness. This was only the third time in double that amount of months that this had happened. Sometimes, like now, the pain becomes too much and he has to do something to dull it for a time so that he doesn’t go any crazier than he already feels.
He automatically shifted his eyes downward, toward the floor, when he saw the door opening. He knew that Master didn’t like it when he looked him in the eyes, or even in the face. He played his part well: the submissive that loved to be dominated. It wasn’t the domination that got him off; well, it wasn’t just the domination that got him off. He never claimed to not be a kinky bastard, but the semi-painless night was what really got him going. He knew from previous play, that when Master was in the room, all of his concentration had “better fucking be on me, you pussy,” or, something to that tone. Chase very rarely cursed in his every day life, but when he became Master, it was part of the package.
“Have you been a very good boy, or did you torture people today? Is that why you asked for the whip?” Master’s Australian lilt floated softly across the living room to the piano stool where Greg was seated. He had been playing for the past hour to pass the time until Master arrived, but had stopped as soon as he heard the distinctive sounds of footsteps on his stoop. He had begun breathing deeply, letting the air out through his nose to calm his eagerness. It wouldn’t do to have Master see him enjoying himself by wallowing before He arrived. They both knew the rules of the game. Master was just that, the ruler, the one who pushed the meetings along to their inevitable endings. Greg was the submissive, the one that had the safe word, the one that could put this to an end with one whispered, “lupus” - they both knew it was never lupus, no matter what Cameron or Foreman thought. But for now, Master was in control; no safe word had been uttered; and they both wanted, no, needed the release of the game.
“I want you on your knees; because we both know it doesn’t hurt.” This was how it had always started, just to get House started into his delusion of painless movement. This always reminded him of a song he’d heard on the radio, "If you wanna kiss the sky, gotta learn how to kneel (On your knees, boy)". And he did; he did want to kiss the sky, and if he had to kneel to get there, he sure as hell wasn’t going to let his pride stop him this time, not with Master. With Master his pride didn’t exist. He had no reason to be prideful, he was just Greg, the one that asked for it. The one that wanted the pain and to have the control wrenched from his grasp.
“Good Greg.” That was the first praise of the night, and probably the first of only two. “I want you to unbutton me, but don’t touch me, don’t look at me, just the button. Do you understand?” Greg nodded, and slowly reached his hand up to lightly feel for the button. He wasn’t sure what Master was wearing, but it certainly felt like leather. Though he didn’t touch Master, he could feel the heat emanating from his groin. He knew that it would be a long while before he was allowed to touch Master, if he was at all. Sometimes Master just gave him his needs and neglected his own.
“Unzip me.” And Greg did. “Stand up, walk to the bedroom, do not use your cane. I’ll be there when I get there. Undress yourself. Come to think of it, you should have been undressed when I arrived. I suppose I’ll have to use the whip after all.” Greg shuddered from an overload of auditory sensation. Hearing words like that come out of his Master’s mouth made him even harder than he had been while kneeling. Master held out a black gym bag to Greg, “Take this with you. Place it beside the bed. Do not open it. Do not touch anything except the handles. Now go.”
Greg found himself walking cane free toward his bedroom in the back of the apartment. He felt only a slight twinge of pain with his limping gait, and knew that what Master was doing was really taking an effect. When he walked through the doorway, he didn’t even stop to turn on the light, because his Master hadn’t told him to do so. Though he never acted like it at work, he did know how to follow the rules, when it suited him, and did it suit him now. He stripped fairly quickly, folding his clothes and laying them on the chair beside his bed as he had been instructed the first night of their liaison. He was hard enough to pound nails, “or that’s what it feels like,” he mumbled under his breath. However, quickly after he had done this, he stopped and quickly looked around for Master to make sure he hadn’t been heard disobeying even an indirect order. He sighed in relief before settling himself on the bed, as he knew his Master would want.
After ten minutes of agonized waiting, Master came sauntering into the room, looking as unaffected as Greg was affected. He looked as though he had just come from a long relaxing bubble bath, with lavender bubbles, of course.
“I see you’ve done as I asked. I suppose there’s a first time for everything. Lay back on the bed and close your eyes.” Greg did so immediately. “You are going to receive a punishing. Your transgressions are such: failure to listen to a valid medical opinion from a part of your staff; purposeful lewd looks to that same member of your staff; purposefully making that said person on your staff late for a very important meeting; and last, not obeying a standing order to be nude at all times within your master’s presence.” Greg hadn’t realized that his teasing at work would be counted in with his punishments, along with his disobeying of the nudity rule; but he was slightly grateful that he didn’t have to break any more rules in his Masters presence. “Are there any other rules you’ve broken today, Greg? You may speak.”
Greg swallowed, “I did mumble something out loud when I walked into the bedroom alone after you had arrived.” When Master didn’t immediately answer with a scolding, Greg felt almost disappointed. He knew that this meant it would be counted as a minor offense; and minor offenses didn’t receive punishments. He needed punishment.
“I am disappointed; however, you were honest with me, and I appreciate honesty, Greg. This will not be included in your list of transgressions. Your punishment will be a sound whipping with 15 lashes using the leather whip. You will also not be allowed to come tonight until I say so. If you fail to control yourself, your punishment will be the immediate ceasing of this session tonight. If you agree to this deal and punishments, then look me directly in the eye, and nod your head twice.”
Greg took a deep breath, thought critically for a moment or two. On one hand, he accepted the punishments for his transgressions easily, even enjoyed them a bit. On the other hand, ending the session because he was over stimulated? That seemed a little extreme. But if he wanted this to continue on at all, he would have to accept. Against about half of his better judgment, House looked up into Chase’s eyes and nodded his head, twice. That sealed the deal. Now, for the rest of the night, until one of them put an end to it, he was under someone else’s control. He was under his duckling’s control. Sometimes it shocked him that he could relinquish his highly prized control. That he could humble himself to a level lower than someone he was supervising, but times like now, when that control that his Master had over him was complete, he wondered how he could ever take control of his life again. He never recognized that he would be back in control in the morning when he was Greg. All that he ever recognized was his Master and his orders.
“Stand up, walk to the end of the bed, and lay yourself across the end of the bed. It’s time for your whipping. Please prepare yourself. It’s going to hurt,” Master took a pause here, as though contemplating, and then softened his voice, “I promise.”
Greg heard the bag unzip, and the rustling as what he assumed was the leather whip was taken out of it. Three footsteps led Master back to Greg, and He raised the whip bringing it down on Greg’s back. An intake of breath, a quick out breath of pain, and then calm. Greg shuddered from the expected pain and pleasure. He hadn’t expected it to be so amazing, but it had been almost a month and a half since he had last experienced this full and total relief from the pain and psychological torture that his leg brought him. But he wasn’t thinking like that now, all that mattered was his next hit. Then the whip came down again. And again. And again, until he was trembling and there was sweat pouring down his forehead. He could feel his Master’s heat retreat from his proximity, and he almost groaned with disappointment, before he at the last second remembered The Rules. Not a sound. Every rule suddenly came rushing back through the haze of pleasure. He prayed for a moment to that non-existent god of his Master’s that he hadn’t broken a rule in his daze. He knew what was coming, even before his Master said a word. The best part was coming up: the torture that even he couldn’t match.
“You know, what’s coming, don’t you, Greg? You know that you’re going to enjoy it; that being beaten was only the beginning of your pain. You know it, and you’re reveling in it. Are you ready, greg? I think you are.” Master ran a finger down one of the stinging lashes, gathering sweat and a bead of blood that had come from one of the later harder lashes. He brought the finger of the blood and sweat to Greg’s lips. “This is your own blood and sweat, your own hard work and pain in physical form. Do you accept it? Do you understand that for the rest of your life, you’ll be living and shedding your life fluids for other people? Do not look at me, but nod once. I have to know that you accept this fact, otherwise, this exercise is pointless.”
For a split second, Greg thought that he might just shake his head no, and end it there. He didn’t want to accept the inevitability that helping people, even with a secondary impulse to the puzzle solving, was completely and utterly thankless. But he found himself nodding without thought and agreeing that he understood. He certainly hadn’t known that he understood that, but, he guessed his subconscious knew him better than he knew himself...well, wasn’t that a conundrum. Master, unaware of the confused goings on of Greg’s mind, continued on speaking.
“I’m glad you understand. I was beginning to think that there was no hope for you. But now I know. The only hope you have is to keep you sane, or at least with some semblance of sanity, and that’s why I’m here, isn’t it? You don’t have to answer, I know the truth. I also know what you need. Go lay on the bed. I have a new plaything for us.” Master walked at the same time as Greg, making his way, once again, to the black gym bag by the bed. He reached in and pulled out a ball gag, and a small rabbit vibrator. Greg stood stock-still. They’d used the ball gag before during their first time, when Master thought that Greg didn’t have control, but it wasn’t used in conjunction with anything else. The vibe looked almost menacing in proportion to the order he was given earlier. No finishing until he was told he could. Damn. He wasn’t sure how he was going to do this. He knew he had control. To look at Chase every day in those hideous ties, and only be able to picture him naked was a feat of control in its self, but that control was mental. Could he really hold up to that physical stimulation? He didn’t know, but he sure as hell was going to try.
Master fitted the ball gag around Greg’s head, into his mouth, and tied the leather straps at the back. Taking the moment, Master ran his hands through Greg’s hair, and gave him a small kiss on the forehead, before backing away and once again taking control of the room. House had almost lost control and snapped at Chase, but he quickly took a breath and regained his well-maintained self-awareness.
“I want you to get up on your knees, legs spread, and your wrists crossed behind your back. You may move, if you must, but nothing unnecessary or superfluous. I want you to concentrate only on my voice. Everything I say and every answer you give could be the difference in your coming, and my leaving. Pay very close attention to me, but I don’t want to hear a word unless I ask you a question. Got it? Good.”
Master turned on the vibe to its lowest setting and placed it at the tip of Greg’s cock. “Did you purposely keep me over at work?”
Greg heard the question, but through the very pleasant vibrations, he could barely think, but somehow he forced the answer out, “Y-yes.”
“Why?” The look on Master’s face was almost gleeful. The look on Greg’s face was almost panicked.
With a shaking breath, Greg answered, “I knew that I needed to be punished. I needed that distraction from the,” here he swallowed and gasped in a breath, “from the pain.” he clenched his teeth and tilted his head back so that he could look at the ceiling.
“Was that movement necessary?” Master asked this with a wide-eyed innocent look that Greg, but no one else could tell was patently fake. Greg knew that he had to answer; but at the time, he wasn’t sure he could still remember how to use his tongue, lips and teeth together to form a coherent word, let alone string many of them together to form a sentence; but somehow, he did.
“If you want me to fucking hold out as long as you want me to, it is.” Greg growled out through clenched teeth. Master grabbed him by the short hairs on the back of his head, and pulled him even further back, as his other hand holding the vibe deftly turned up the vibration to full.
“Don’t think you can hold out, do you? Let’s see. I don’t think you can either, which is why I’m going to be kind. Come, NOW.” And he did, in a very spectacular manner. But still, as a testament to his physical control, he stayed on his knees in the position dictated to him by his Master. Even though he was satisfied, his Master had not yet told him of his whim for his own pleasure.
“I am going to give you a choice. I can leave, and satisfy myself, or you can submit one more time, on your knees and suck me off. Which would you prefer? You don’t need to talk, just get up and walk away, or get on the floor in front of me.”
The choice was an easy one, and Greg, after dismounting from the bed, fell into a prone position in front of his still fully clothed master. “You may touch me, below my belt line, in anyway you see fit. I’m sure that I’ll enjoy it.” Greg couldn’t see it, but he could hear the smirk in Master’s voice. Greg also gained a smirk on his face, because he knew that with just a little bit of work, he could make his Master loose all of his previously maintained control. He grasped the sides of his Master’s leather pants and pulled them slowly down to see that his Master, as he always did, had gone commando. This made Greg’s job so much easier, since he didn’t have to worry about underwear or having to pay for the dry cleaning on his Master’s silk boxers if he didn’t get the damn things out of the way in time. Looking at his Master’s cock, he knew that he loved submission for something other than the pain. Making someone else out of control, to take their control from them without their realization, was an amazing rush and high that he didn’t know if he could live without. Knowing what it did to Master, Greg rubbed his stubble covered chin and cheeks lightly across the sensitive underbelly of His cock. He knew by the throbbing and heat he could feel coming from it that it wouldn’t be long before an eminent explosion. He snickered a bit in his mind at that thought before returning to his ‘job’. Realizing that just that slight amount of stimulation was making Master moan and beg for more, he knew that something had to be done quickly so that he didn’t miss the grand finale. Suddenly, surprising Master, greg took the head of Masters dick into his mouth and sucked hard, causing the overload of stimulation to truly break the barriers of his final wall of self-control, and cause him to come. Greg swallowed and swallowed until the convulsions stopped.
He made a very odd face at the taste, but sort of gave a small shrug. “You should seriously start to eat some cranberries or blueberries or something. Make that stuff sweeter, instead of that shit you’re eating to make it salty.”
Chase barked out a laugh and a huge grin came up on his face. “You, House, are one of the most peculiar people I’ve ever met. I don’t know whether to laugh at you or put you in an insane asylum. Either way, you’d enjoy it.” The grin hadn’t gone away five minutes later as Chase was cleaning up everything. House’s pain was only a twinge still, especially after his ‘happy time’ earlier. Chase was gathering his things, and changing into a pair of comfortable boxers and jeans, with an old t-shirt that he’d stolen a few weeks ago from one of House’s drawers.
“I guess I’ll see you on Monday morning?” Chase hesitantly asked House who was just getting into the bed and climbing under the covers.
“No, you’ll see me tomorrow when we wake up, now get your ass into this bed before I change my mind.” Chase happily threw his gym back into the corner, and took off his jeans and t-shirt and climbed into bed. House looked at Chase for a moment before looking down at his boxers that were just sticking out from under the covers. “You know, I just gave you a blow job, and you’re still wearing boxers. See anything wrong with this?” Chase just blushed and took off his underwear.