(no subject)
Title: Soundtrack for Secretary
Author: dragynflies
Pairing: House/Cameron
Rating: Adult
Word Count: 2,059
Summary: How many uses are there for a popsicle, anyway? BDSM ahead!
It’s been a week. A week of too much work and not nearly enough time together at all, much less time for anything remotely kinky.
Friday night, and everything is wrapped up. She is curled up on the couch, watching House watch…cartoons. She sighs and shifts her legs, stretching them out, then casts a purposeful glance in his direction.
He picks up his Nintendo DS and turns it on.
She sighs heavily, and waits for him to look at her.
He doesn’t.
“I’m going to go take a shower, then,” she says, her voice hinting.
“Kay,” he mumbles, pausing his game long enough to grab a chip from the bag next to him, “Have fun.”
She shoves herself off the couch and barely resists the urge to stomp to the bathroom. The hem of the dress shirt she stole from him barely grazes her ass, and she hooks her own finger in the D ring on her collar, turning around to face him one last time.
He doesn’t even lift his head, not even a little.
She enters the bathroom and slams the door - maybe just a little harder than necessary. She drops the shirt first, then turns on the water.
While it heats, she stands naked in from of the mirror, watching herself as she unbuckles the collar and sets it down on the counter. She likes it more than she even likes to admit to herself, and she feels…better when it’s on.
She doesn’t wear it to work anymore, not since the first day.
“Nice…necklace.” Chase’s voice is…almost smug as she comes into the Diagnostics lab, only a little late. She doesn’t respond to him, just heads over to the coffee pot and starts a fresh batch.
She’s wearing black dress pants and a little black vest over her white shirt. She’d strugged that morning, trying to find clothes to wear that would both match the collar but not over emphasize the leather around her neck.
She’s a little self concious, can feel Chase’s gaze burning a hole in her back as she pours water, but she’s also proud, and she’s not going to let Chase’s stupid comments ruin it.
Foreman comes in a little later, flipping through their patient’s file.
“Morning, Cameron,” he greets her; he’d been the first one to work that morning. He doesn’t look up from his file right away, but when he does he frowns at her. Nothing is spoken aloud, but his face says plenty.
They mill about for a half hour, checking on their patient and tossing around ideas before House finally comes in. He nods at Chase and Foreman and then body checks Cameron so obviously she blushes under his eyes.
“There’s mail that needs to be sorted,” he says to her pointedly, and really before she even has time to think about it she’s up and on her way to his office. He joins her a few minutes later, sitting down in his chair and watching her.
She flips through the mail, peeking at him over the rim of her glasses before she finally speaks, “Chase and Foreman…”
“I’ve heard those names before…” he begins, tapping his chin, “Do we know them?”
“They’re giving me weird looks.”
“They can’t help their faces, Cameron. You know I can’t discriminate based on looks.”
“Because of this,” she snaps, with more force than she intended. Her meaning is clear.
House shrugs, glaces to his computer, “So take it off.”
Cameron balks, “What?”
“If it bothers you, take it off.” His voice is…easy going, almost, but she catches the challenge.
“No,” she says firmly, then drops the pile of mail he needs to read on his desk and the rest in his mailbox.
It’s the last time it’s mentioned that day, and the collar does not come off until the next morning.
The whole dynamic of their relationship has changed since then, Cameron muses as she steps into the shower. Everything is different; everything is better, and for all her pouting earlier, she just likes being with him. Even if he is absorbed in Spongebob Squarepants and Nintendo.
She takes her time in the shower, letting the hot water run until it starts to chill before she steps out.
She dries herself, and then towel dries her hair before putting the collar back on. Just because he wasn’t in the mood tonight didn’t mean she didn’t want to have it on. She’s just about to slip into one of his t shirts for pajamas when the bathroom door clicks open.
“Oh good,” he says, grabbing her hand and dragging her to him, “You’re all dressed.”
He catches her off guard and before she even processes what’s happening, he’s snapped a leash to her collar. She looks at him with wide eyes, and a second later a tug on the leash drops her to her knees.
“Come,” he tells her, and starts walking toward the bedroom, the leash clutched in his free hand. She scrambles after him on her hands and knees, already feeling arousal pool in her belly.
When they reach the bedroom, she sees that he had pulled the covers back and laid an old sheet over the bed. He tugs once on the leash, and she kneels up, waiting to see what he does.
“Up,” he orders, “on your hands and knees, facing the headboard.”
She listens, even crawls onto the bed. His palm on her neck forces her head down, so her cheeks are resting on her forearms and her ass is in the air.
“You were being snotty tonight,” he says, and she feels the bed sink down next to her as he sits down. He palms her ass, and she braces for a slap, “You were teasing.”
“I wasn’t,” she argues, wiggling under his touch.
“Now you’re just lying,” he tells her, and abruptly, his hand is gone. He stands up and pulls open the drawer where he keeps their toys. He wraps leather cuffs around her wrists and ties them together before attaching the rope to the headboard.
“Just think about your behavior for a minute,” he says, unsnapping the leash from her collar and leaving the room.
She is still for a minute, then tugs at her wrists. What the hell did he have up his sleeve now? This wasn’t exactly what’d she’d anticipated -- actually, her plans for this evening had been quite vanilla after her failed attempts earlier.
She can hear him banging around in the kitchen, opening cupboards and slamming the refrigerator door.
How long did he plan to leave her here? She sighed and settled her head down on the pillow he’d left, closing her eyes.
She’s not sure how long she stays there for, or if she dozes while she waits for him but she is startled to alertness when she feels something cold circling her nipple.
Her eyes shoot open and she glances down to see him circling her left nipple with the tip of a red popsicle. She moans and replaces her head on the pillow as he continues to tease her, switching nipples twice before he settles back on the bed, sliding the popsicle between his lips.
“There you are,” he says, stroking his hand over her still-damp hair, “Have a nice nap?”
She gives him a little nod, and he returns it with a little half smile.
“Time to wake up now,” he tells her, rubbing a hand over her back, “but let’s close those pretty eyes.”
She lets her eyes flutter closed, and strains to hear him as he moves about in the room. She doesn’t catch much -- she can hear him slurp at the popsicle, and his cane tapping on the floor, but she can’t discern where he is or what’s he doing.
She feels him settle at the end of the bed, and then nothing. Seconds tick by as she counts in her head and she nearly leaps off the bed when she feels his fingers teasing at her exposed center.
“Keep your eyes closed,” he warns her, shifting his position.
“Mmhmm,” she whimpers, relaxing on the bed. She maintains her position, but she’s no longer braced for a slap across her ass.
He lets his fingers brush over her for a minute, teasing her open and sliding his fingers over the soft skin. He circles her clit once, twice, then drops his hand from her.
She waits for his hand to come back, or better yet, his mouth.
“House,” she whimpers, pushing towards him, “Please.”
She hears him slurp once more on the popsicle, and then his freezing tongue presses against her. She shrieks, and unintentionally jerks away from him.
“Uh uh uh,” he warns her, and she feels a hand at her hip guiding her back to how he wants her. “Hold still.”
She does, trembling now on her knees in front of him. Now she’s not quite sure what to expect, and this sends a new flood of arousal. She’s so wet she can feel it dripping down her leg.
Unexpectedly, she feels the very tip of the popsicle push into her, and she screams his name. Her hands fist in the sheets and she holds herself still for him.
The popsicle doesn’t stay for very long, and it is soon followed with his warm tongue, lapping up the melted juice. She moans and struggles not to relax again, now she’s prepared for him.
She doesn’t have long to wait before she feels the popsicle again. He circles her entrance with his finger first, then slips the popsicle in a few inches. It takes her a couple of seconds to adjust to the different feeling, and then he slides it out before he starts fucking her with it, shallowly and never for too long. He takes frequent breaks, licking her clean in-between.
Under him, she is panting, fists clenching at the sheet and her lower lip pulled between her teeth. It is not enough - his actions have her at the edge of orgasm, but never enough to send her over.
He pushes the popsicle into her and brings his other hand to toy with her clit, circling it with the tip of his index finger.
“House, House…gonna…I’m gonna come,” she pants out.
His hand is gone and before she can whine she hears his voice, “No, you’re not.”
He licks her clean, making sure to get all the cherry juice, and then settles back at the headboard.
“You can open your eyes,” he tells her, and she opens black eyes just in time to see him slide what’s left of the popsicle between his lips.
He pays no more attention to her than he would a cat while he finishes the treat, stroking his hand through her hair and cupping her cheek gently. Her near orgasm has her heart racing and her hips keep jerking.
He finishes the popsicle finally and raises an eyebrow at her.
“Please?” she whimpers, and she looks so hopeful that he can’t deny her.
He moves back to her raised ass, half kneeling on the bed and bracing himself on his good leg.
“Spread your knees,” he encourages, and she does, arching her back to make it easier for him to slide inside of her.
He inhales as he does; her pussy is cold from the popsicle and wonderfully tight around him. He grips her hips and fucks her hard; she is so close that she comes the second his hand slips around to pinch her clit.
He comes a minute later, fingers digging into her hips as he pushes as deep as he can inside of her as she cries his name.
He slips out of her easily, and she whimpers at the loss. Lying down next to her, he unbuckles the cuffs from her wrists and shoves them to the side. He’ll clean them up later, he reasons, and focuses his attention on Cameron as she sleepily paws at the sheet under her.
“Roll over,” he encourages, and he pulls the sheet, stained with cherry popsicle, from underneath her. She sighs and settles comfortably into bed as he tucks her in.
“Thank you,” she murmurs as her eyes flutter closed. He’s not sure what to say to that, so he just kisses her forehead and lies down next to her.
Author: dragynflies
Pairing: House/Cameron
Rating: Adult
Word Count: 2,059
Summary: How many uses are there for a popsicle, anyway? BDSM ahead!
It’s been a week. A week of too much work and not nearly enough time together at all, much less time for anything remotely kinky.
Friday night, and everything is wrapped up. She is curled up on the couch, watching House watch…cartoons. She sighs and shifts her legs, stretching them out, then casts a purposeful glance in his direction.
He picks up his Nintendo DS and turns it on.
She sighs heavily, and waits for him to look at her.
He doesn’t.
“I’m going to go take a shower, then,” she says, her voice hinting.
“Kay,” he mumbles, pausing his game long enough to grab a chip from the bag next to him, “Have fun.”
She shoves herself off the couch and barely resists the urge to stomp to the bathroom. The hem of the dress shirt she stole from him barely grazes her ass, and she hooks her own finger in the D ring on her collar, turning around to face him one last time.
He doesn’t even lift his head, not even a little.
She enters the bathroom and slams the door - maybe just a little harder than necessary. She drops the shirt first, then turns on the water.
While it heats, she stands naked in from of the mirror, watching herself as she unbuckles the collar and sets it down on the counter. She likes it more than she even likes to admit to herself, and she feels…better when it’s on.
She doesn’t wear it to work anymore, not since the first day.
“Nice…necklace.” Chase’s voice is…almost smug as she comes into the Diagnostics lab, only a little late. She doesn’t respond to him, just heads over to the coffee pot and starts a fresh batch.
She’s wearing black dress pants and a little black vest over her white shirt. She’d strugged that morning, trying to find clothes to wear that would both match the collar but not over emphasize the leather around her neck.
She’s a little self concious, can feel Chase’s gaze burning a hole in her back as she pours water, but she’s also proud, and she’s not going to let Chase’s stupid comments ruin it.
Foreman comes in a little later, flipping through their patient’s file.
“Morning, Cameron,” he greets her; he’d been the first one to work that morning. He doesn’t look up from his file right away, but when he does he frowns at her. Nothing is spoken aloud, but his face says plenty.
They mill about for a half hour, checking on their patient and tossing around ideas before House finally comes in. He nods at Chase and Foreman and then body checks Cameron so obviously she blushes under his eyes.
“There’s mail that needs to be sorted,” he says to her pointedly, and really before she even has time to think about it she’s up and on her way to his office. He joins her a few minutes later, sitting down in his chair and watching her.
She flips through the mail, peeking at him over the rim of her glasses before she finally speaks, “Chase and Foreman…”
“I’ve heard those names before…” he begins, tapping his chin, “Do we know them?”
“They’re giving me weird looks.”
“They can’t help their faces, Cameron. You know I can’t discriminate based on looks.”
“Because of this,” she snaps, with more force than she intended. Her meaning is clear.
House shrugs, glaces to his computer, “So take it off.”
Cameron balks, “What?”
“If it bothers you, take it off.” His voice is…easy going, almost, but she catches the challenge.
“No,” she says firmly, then drops the pile of mail he needs to read on his desk and the rest in his mailbox.
It’s the last time it’s mentioned that day, and the collar does not come off until the next morning.
The whole dynamic of their relationship has changed since then, Cameron muses as she steps into the shower. Everything is different; everything is better, and for all her pouting earlier, she just likes being with him. Even if he is absorbed in Spongebob Squarepants and Nintendo.
She takes her time in the shower, letting the hot water run until it starts to chill before she steps out.
She dries herself, and then towel dries her hair before putting the collar back on. Just because he wasn’t in the mood tonight didn’t mean she didn’t want to have it on. She’s just about to slip into one of his t shirts for pajamas when the bathroom door clicks open.
“Oh good,” he says, grabbing her hand and dragging her to him, “You’re all dressed.”
He catches her off guard and before she even processes what’s happening, he’s snapped a leash to her collar. She looks at him with wide eyes, and a second later a tug on the leash drops her to her knees.
“Come,” he tells her, and starts walking toward the bedroom, the leash clutched in his free hand. She scrambles after him on her hands and knees, already feeling arousal pool in her belly.
When they reach the bedroom, she sees that he had pulled the covers back and laid an old sheet over the bed. He tugs once on the leash, and she kneels up, waiting to see what he does.
“Up,” he orders, “on your hands and knees, facing the headboard.”
She listens, even crawls onto the bed. His palm on her neck forces her head down, so her cheeks are resting on her forearms and her ass is in the air.
“You were being snotty tonight,” he says, and she feels the bed sink down next to her as he sits down. He palms her ass, and she braces for a slap, “You were teasing.”
“I wasn’t,” she argues, wiggling under his touch.
“Now you’re just lying,” he tells her, and abruptly, his hand is gone. He stands up and pulls open the drawer where he keeps their toys. He wraps leather cuffs around her wrists and ties them together before attaching the rope to the headboard.
“Just think about your behavior for a minute,” he says, unsnapping the leash from her collar and leaving the room.
She is still for a minute, then tugs at her wrists. What the hell did he have up his sleeve now? This wasn’t exactly what’d she’d anticipated -- actually, her plans for this evening had been quite vanilla after her failed attempts earlier.
She can hear him banging around in the kitchen, opening cupboards and slamming the refrigerator door.
How long did he plan to leave her here? She sighed and settled her head down on the pillow he’d left, closing her eyes.
She’s not sure how long she stays there for, or if she dozes while she waits for him but she is startled to alertness when she feels something cold circling her nipple.
Her eyes shoot open and she glances down to see him circling her left nipple with the tip of a red popsicle. She moans and replaces her head on the pillow as he continues to tease her, switching nipples twice before he settles back on the bed, sliding the popsicle between his lips.
“There you are,” he says, stroking his hand over her still-damp hair, “Have a nice nap?”
She gives him a little nod, and he returns it with a little half smile.
“Time to wake up now,” he tells her, rubbing a hand over her back, “but let’s close those pretty eyes.”
She lets her eyes flutter closed, and strains to hear him as he moves about in the room. She doesn’t catch much -- she can hear him slurp at the popsicle, and his cane tapping on the floor, but she can’t discern where he is or what’s he doing.
She feels him settle at the end of the bed, and then nothing. Seconds tick by as she counts in her head and she nearly leaps off the bed when she feels his fingers teasing at her exposed center.
“Keep your eyes closed,” he warns her, shifting his position.
“Mmhmm,” she whimpers, relaxing on the bed. She maintains her position, but she’s no longer braced for a slap across her ass.
He lets his fingers brush over her for a minute, teasing her open and sliding his fingers over the soft skin. He circles her clit once, twice, then drops his hand from her.
She waits for his hand to come back, or better yet, his mouth.
“House,” she whimpers, pushing towards him, “Please.”
She hears him slurp once more on the popsicle, and then his freezing tongue presses against her. She shrieks, and unintentionally jerks away from him.
“Uh uh uh,” he warns her, and she feels a hand at her hip guiding her back to how he wants her. “Hold still.”
She does, trembling now on her knees in front of him. Now she’s not quite sure what to expect, and this sends a new flood of arousal. She’s so wet she can feel it dripping down her leg.
Unexpectedly, she feels the very tip of the popsicle push into her, and she screams his name. Her hands fist in the sheets and she holds herself still for him.
The popsicle doesn’t stay for very long, and it is soon followed with his warm tongue, lapping up the melted juice. She moans and struggles not to relax again, now she’s prepared for him.
She doesn’t have long to wait before she feels the popsicle again. He circles her entrance with his finger first, then slips the popsicle in a few inches. It takes her a couple of seconds to adjust to the different feeling, and then he slides it out before he starts fucking her with it, shallowly and never for too long. He takes frequent breaks, licking her clean in-between.
Under him, she is panting, fists clenching at the sheet and her lower lip pulled between her teeth. It is not enough - his actions have her at the edge of orgasm, but never enough to send her over.
He pushes the popsicle into her and brings his other hand to toy with her clit, circling it with the tip of his index finger.
“House, House…gonna…I’m gonna come,” she pants out.
His hand is gone and before she can whine she hears his voice, “No, you’re not.”
He licks her clean, making sure to get all the cherry juice, and then settles back at the headboard.
“You can open your eyes,” he tells her, and she opens black eyes just in time to see him slide what’s left of the popsicle between his lips.
He pays no more attention to her than he would a cat while he finishes the treat, stroking his hand through her hair and cupping her cheek gently. Her near orgasm has her heart racing and her hips keep jerking.
He finishes the popsicle finally and raises an eyebrow at her.
“Please?” she whimpers, and she looks so hopeful that he can’t deny her.
He moves back to her raised ass, half kneeling on the bed and bracing himself on his good leg.
“Spread your knees,” he encourages, and she does, arching her back to make it easier for him to slide inside of her.
He inhales as he does; her pussy is cold from the popsicle and wonderfully tight around him. He grips her hips and fucks her hard; she is so close that she comes the second his hand slips around to pinch her clit.
He comes a minute later, fingers digging into her hips as he pushes as deep as he can inside of her as she cries his name.
He slips out of her easily, and she whimpers at the loss. Lying down next to her, he unbuckles the cuffs from her wrists and shoves them to the side. He’ll clean them up later, he reasons, and focuses his attention on Cameron as she sleepily paws at the sheet under her.
“Roll over,” he encourages, and he pulls the sheet, stained with cherry popsicle, from underneath her. She sighs and settles comfortably into bed as he tucks her in.
“Thank you,” she murmurs as her eyes flutter closed. He’s not sure what to say to that, so he just kisses her forehead and lies down next to her.