One-shot fic: Fantasies and Nightmares (2/3)
Title: Fantasies and Nightmares
Author: Duckie Nicks
Rating: NC-17 - please see the warning!
Characters: House/Cuddy
Summary: For his birthday, Cuddy decides to fulfill one of House's deepest fantasies. But soon she realizes that it's going to take a lot more than sex to make him happy. House/Cuddy one shot. Spoilers for season 5. CONTAINS SMUT..
Author's Notes: This is meant to be a companion piece to Things you can tell just by Looking at Her. Although you don't need to read that to understand this, it might help. This also fulfills 50kinkyways prompt # 40. Virgins. This fic has been split into sections because of Livejournal's character limits.
Previous Parts: Part One
Warning: This fic contains explicit sex scenes. That means includes masturbation and voyeurism, anal sex, ageplay, principal/student role-play, dominance/submission, a little bondage, spanking, and rape fantasy. If any of these things squick you, please turn away now.
Disclaimer: The show isn't mine, so please don't sue me.
At first, Cuddy doesn’t know how to react. She wants to make sure that she’s heard him right, but at the same time, she understands that doing that could very easily look like doubt. Which is the last thing they need at the moment, because it’s a sure-fire way of starting a fight with him.
But House takes her non-reaction differently. Clearly assuming her hesitation is over the act and not his ability to actually go through with it, he points out, “You’re dressed like a little girl. And besides… I know you. You can’t exactly pretend that that kind of thing doesn’t turn you on.”
She rolls her eyes. “You always think I’m much kinkier than I am.”
That fact doesn’t particularly annoy her, although sometimes the jokes do get a bit old. And right now, to be honest, Cuddy is willing to let him do whatever he wants if it means that she gets laid. So she goes with it. “All right,” she tells him with a shrug, bending over so she can take off the tights off.
As she does so, House says, “Well, if you’re doing what I want, then you must be just as kinky as I think you are.”
His point is one she chooses to ignore. Tossing the white tights at him, she dismisses him. “Whatever. I would just like to have sex some time today. So if that’s at all possible,” she says, sounding more peevish than she means to. “That’d be really nice.”
“Well that’s not exactly my fault now, is it?” Now House sounds just as annoyed as she is confused. And he has to explain quickly, “If you hadn’t decided to change locations on me, I wouldn’t have followed you. If I hadn’t followed you, I wouldn’t have twisted my leg weirdly while trying to walk with an erection.”
If he weren’t being such an ass, she thinks she might have apologized for something she couldn’t have possibly predicted. But since he is being an asshole, Cuddy just smirks. “Next time we decide to have sex, I’ll perfectly choreograph what we’re going to do first. I’ll even draw a map just for you, so you don’t get lost along the way.”
He sneers, unraveling the tights she’s tossed at him. As he does so, he tells her very seriously, “Shut up and put your mouth to better use.”
His attitude naturally doesn’t make her feel entirely inclined to do that. If anything, Cuddy has a pretty nasty desire growing inside of her to bite him. But that, she tells herself, wouldn’t exactly make for a very happy birthday, and more importantly she wants to have sex, so she simply shrugs off her anger.
For now anyway (she reserves the right to be angry later).
Moving back up the bed, she begins to take off his pants. It’s relatively easy to do, despite the fact that he stubbornly refuses to help her. His jeans still unzipped and unbuttoned from earlier, she harshly tugs on the fabric, her irritation bleeding through to the surface in a flash of weakness.
Feeling his gaze narrow on her disapprovingly, Cuddy slows her movements. Especially as she pulls his pants and boxers down over his thighs, she’s particularly careful, the knowledge that hurting him like that isn’t going to make her feel better running through her mind.
Although she can’t deny that the idea is beginning to sound more and more enticing as each second passes.
And by the time she gets his bottom half completely naked, she’s not just a little frustrated. Annoyed she says, “You could have helped.”
He ignores the comment. Instead he tells her, “You know my penis isn’t going to suck itself…”
She doesn’t miss a beat, crawling off of the bed. “I’ll go get the vacuum cleaner then.”
But she’s barely taken a step before he grabs her roughly. Yanking her hard, he pulls her back down onto the bed, her body being crushed against his. His lips at her ear, he harshly whispers, “Do you remember what I told you?”
Her lips turn down into a slight frown as she tries to decipher what it is he’s talking about. It’s House, so it very well could mean anything, she realizes, which makes it hard to know exactly what he’s referencing.
Of course House seems to know that she doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He nips at her earlobe, making the skin sting slightly, before reminding her, “I told you that if you wanted to come, you had to do what I say.”
“Oh. Right,” she says dimly, vaguely recalling those words.
“Now I was willing to rethink spanking you… I can rethink it some more if necessary.” He lets the threat sink in a little bit before asking, “Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Realizing she’s been backed into a corner, with no other options left, she nods her head slowly. “Yes,” she admits albeit reluctantly; she’s not opposed, in theory, to giving him what he wants. But as she’s so used to denying him, questioning him - redirecting him, it’s hard for her to acquiesce. Yet somehow she manages to do it. Which earns her a kiss to the side of her head.
“Good girl,” he tells her in a voice that makes the whole phrase sound so dirty.
He lets go of her, so he can lean back against the pillows. He’s silent; he doesn’t say a word or even look at her. But what he wants is very clear. And although part of her isn’t all that interested in giving him what he wants, she does do that.
She slithers down to his dick, offering a couple kisses along his stomach as she does. Her fingertips lightly curling around his cock, she slowly pumps him.
House sighs his approval, but she’s obviously hoping for more than that. Hovering over him, she licks the head of his penis languidly. He’s still not hard yet, but there are the beginnings of an erection, and so she continues to slowly taunt and tease him.
Moving down the length of his penis, Cuddy presses delicate kisses along his warm flesh. Occasionally she allows her tongue to give him a short lick that follows the contours of his veins. The added moisture lets her stroke him more insistently, and she knows it won’t be long before he’s worked up into a frenzy.
As her loose fist moves up and down, her mouth moves further still towards his balls. She’s so close to him now that the light smattering of dark pubic hair brushes against her cheek, the coarse curls tickling her skin. And she’s just about to kiss him some more when she feels him sit up.
Fingers wrapping around and tugging at her pigtails, House pulls her away from her task at hand, away from his body and the intimate pleasure she’s trying to give him. Which honestly irritates her, if she’s being completely honest. As much as it makes sense for him to derive pleasure from the act of her mouth, the fact of the matter is she too gets pleasure from it. She likes the way he tastes, the way he feels, the way he smells, and she loves knowing that she’s the one in control of the situation, of making him feel good. And understanding that being pulled away now means he’ll very quickly have control over her, Cuddy isn’t thrilled.
The emotion must read across her face, because House smirks at her disappointment. “Don’t worry. I have better uses for you,” he tells her in a way that only accentuates what she’s feeling. Before she can even protest, he reaches behind her and yanks her unbuttoned shirt off of her.
Now in front of him in nothing but her skirt, bra, and tie, she can feel some of her irritation and disappointment fleeing. Because at least this means they’re moving closer towards the actual fun part of the evening. They might be inching towards it in an agonizingly slow pace that makes her warm and wet and furious all at the same time, but thankfully, they’re beginning to make some progress.
When his warm hands snake up her back and undo the clasp of her bra, she practically sighs in relief. And almost as though he’s feeling her impatience as well, House’s touch becomes more insistent as he pulls the bra off of her, the lacy straps scratching at her arms as he removes the offending article of clothing. She’s topless in a matter of seconds, a nice departure from everything up until this point in the evening.
Goosebumps begin to form along her skin. A more naïve person might believe that it’s the way House is ogling her that’s making that happen. But the truth is the air conditioning is set too low for her to be anything other than cold in the artificially chilled air. And quickly the lack of clothing begins to have its effect on her; her nipples harden slightly at the feel of the cool air hitting them, and House appreciatively rubs a thumb over one of the tight buds.
She arches a little into his touch. Although she’s never had sensitive breasts, has never been able to have the kind of reaction that men like to brag about, she can still appreciate House’s hand on her body. She can still enjoy the intimacy of the act and the way her nipple and his dick become increasingly hard by it.
“Put your hands behind your back,” House orders in a harsh whisper.
Even under the best of circumstances, that doesn’t sound like such a good idea, Cuddy thinks to herself. So she doesn’t move at all, instead deflecting with the question, “You trying to arrest me, officer?”
He scoffs. “Of course not. If there’s one thing porn has taught me, it’s that you never mix your role playing scenarios.”
Cuddy is sure that there’s a reason behind that. But given the subject matter, she’s not exactly convinced that she wants to know the reason, so she just nods her head in agreement. “Right.”
They sit there in silence for a moment before he gets annoyed. “Well?”
There’s a voice inside of her that is practically shouting that this is a bad idea. No, not a bad idea - a terrible idea, it screams in the back of her mind. But another part of her has already realized that…
She can’t really tell him no.
Or rather, she can; House won’t force her into anything if she’s that opposed to it. But her reticence is more due to the fact that she’s instinctively wary of giving House anything he wants and less the result of an actual fear of the order itself. And that means that telling him no isn’t likely to happen, as he’ll be able to cajole her into doing what he wants.
Sighing she places her hands behind her back. There’s no point, she decides, in trying to fight him, in trying to distract him from what he wants. At the most in ten minutes, he’ll be getting what he wants anyway, so she supposes she might as well just save them time.
Perhaps feeling the same way, House quickly makes work of using the tights she gave him to tie her wrists together. The bonds are comfortably secure around her (it’s her first instinct to automatically test them), and he seems quite pleased by this fact, a small smile appearing on his face as she half-heartedly tries to free herself.
Once she accepts that that won’t be happening until he allows it to, she stills. Something like dread pools in the pit of her stomach, and that feeling isn't alleviated by the fact that House is looking at her in the same manner a wolf might eye a sheep. If anything, it's so unsettling that she has half a mind to put a stop to the whole thing right then and there.
It seems stupid to have just agreed to something only to change her mind within thirty seconds. But nevertheless, Cuddy's remembering just why it is that it has become instinctual for her to distrust him; he is often worthy of distrust. Quietly she starts to say, shifting on the bed, "House..."
"Relax," he tells her in a confident voice, in a way that suggests that, even if he senses her discomfort, he's not worried by it in the least.
Sometimes, she thinks, she despises his arrogance... although in this case, she also realizes that he's probably right.
"I'll let you go... eventually," House explains, breaking through her thoughts.
She pretends to be surprised by this. "What, you weren't going to chain me to the bed post and make me your sex slave for the rest of my life?"
His gaze narrows on her. "Don't joke, Lisa," he warns, sneering out her name in the same manner he has all day. "I might actually take what you're saying seriously. And you don't want me to do that, do you?"
Cuddy shakes her head no. No, she doesn't want him to take her seriously in this instance. And even though she realizes that he wouldn't ever do something like that to her... permanently, she doesn't doubt, not even for a second, that he might find some inspiration from her words in this moment; especially once he learns that Rachel's been sent to Cuddy's sister's for the weekend, House would most certainly take advantage of the fact that he had Cuddy all to himself. "No, I don't want that," she tells him quietly.
And that seems to be enough for him, his mood lightening a little bit. "I'll let you go," he explains, drawing the words out in a hesitant way that makes her nervous. "I don't need to tie you up for you to know who you belong to, do I?"
The sentiment makes her want to punch him. The question itself infuriates her, the pointed, knowing look he's giving her compounding that feeling. And worst of all, there's the knowledge within her that he's not entirely wrong about his assessment of her; as much as she doesn't like to think of herself as being owned, Cuddy definitely feels at times that she is.
She's felt that way for years, for a period of time that extends long beyond the many months that constitutes their romantic relationship. Every time she's chosen him over the good of the hospital; every time he interrupted a date or chased away a prospective suitor; every time he looked - and sometimes still does look - at her as though he can see past all of the protective armor she wears to see who she is with an accuracy far more potent than her own a times...
Yes. She doesn't doubt that she belongs to him.
Nor does she doubt her momentary and occasional resentment of that ownership. As enjoyable as having that relationship with him can be, there are times where it honestly, for lack of a better term, sucks.
It goes without saying that when he's acting like an arrogant asshole (like right now for example), she despises her attachment to him.
And she opens her mouth to tell him all of this. But House is prepared for his, one of his long fingers resting on her lips to silence her. "I'll untie you eventually," he reminds her. "In fact, I wouldn't be tying you up at all if you'd fucked me like I told you to."
She sighs. “I’m sorry,” but Cuddy is aware that she doesn’t sound apologetic in the least.
“Just stay put and do as I tell you,” he tells her warningly. Cuddy nods her head in understanding, not really feeling the effort it would take to fight him, and he rewards her with a rough kiss that threatens to steal away all the irritation within her.
Her mouth opening to him obediently, in the back of her mind, she supposes that there are worse things than doing what he wants. She exhales roughly through her nose as one of his hands snakes up her thigh. His fingers are warm against her cooling skin, and she shivers a little at his featherweight touch.
And then his fingers are fondling her. His hand covers her mound in a protective - no, possessive gesture, his palm flush against her bare skin. House stretches his fingers out, so that his thumb can just lightly touch her clitoris. His other hand still on her breast, he every so often tugs at her nipple, the soft flesh pebbling more than she would have thought possible.
She feels her desire reaching a new height, the emotion washing over hotly in a way that the air conditioning dare not touch. It claims her completely, makes her head swim so much that she feels as though she's been drinking. So when he slides two fingers inside of her warm, drenched pussy, it's not surprise that Cuddy moans into his mouth. The sound is tamped down a little by his curious tongue, but there's no doubt in her mind that he's heard it; the feel of his smirk against her lips is proof of that.
He pumps her pussy slowly with his index and middle finger. Too slowly, she amends quickly, as she dimly realizes that the height her pleasure has gone to has reached a plateau. The limit one set by him and not her own body, it's maddening on so many levels.
She can't come, won't be able to, because he's not fingering her fast and hard enough. His touch on her nipple and clit isn’t insistent to let her have the release she's been contemplating on having all day long. And what's really frustrating about that fact is this:
She can't do anything about it.
His tongue and lips have essentially silenced her. Her hands are bound behind her back, so she can't take matters literally into her own hands. Really, unless she really wants to see how well her childhood gymnastics lessons have held up by trying to pleasure herself with her foot (which is just... too much even for her, even when she's dressed like this), she understands that she's stuck like this.
She knows she'll have to wait.
For House to give her what she needs.
She'll have to wait for him to decide that she can't take anymore, to decide that she's earned an orgasm.
It's that thought that has her irritation returning to her at full force.
And she doesn't know if House can feel that emotion radiating off of her or if he's just too horny to draw this out any longer. Hell, she supposes it could just be a wonderful cosmic coincidence, but whatever the reason, he pulls away from her then, her bottom lip lightly being tugged by his lips as he does so.
He slips his fingers from her, which she hates. Feeling empty and unsatisfied all at once, she's pouting when he pushes on her shoulders. One of hands wet with her moisture, her fluids are wiped off onto her clavicle as House presses her back into the mattress of the bed.
Immediately Cuddy realizes that this won't be the most comfortable sex she's ever had. Her hands and arms are trapped between the bed and her back. Her knuckles are poking at odd angles into her spine, and she can't imagine any of that will feel better once House and his added weight are on top of her.
But she doesn't have much time to complain about that, because House's hand slides between her thighs, parting them agonizingly slow. Her legs spread, the pink tartan skirt bunched around her hips, her nipples hard, her folds slick with want of him, and hands tied behind her back, she can't deny how incredibly lewd she looks right now. And she can't really imagine what this is doing for House mentally; the way his erection in the last two minutes or so has grown is all she needs to know that he's enjoying it.
She hopes, however, that he appreciates the act for other reasons. Most specifically, she hopes that he understands that she wouldn't do this for just anyone. Christ, even just a couple of months ago, she would have said that she'd never do this for anyone. She would have said that fulfilling someone else's fantasies like this, as though she were an object, as though she were walking porn, was offensive. Derogatory even, she supposes.
But being with him has changed her... and not in a bad way, she thinks. As embarrassed as some part of her has been this entire day, she isn't offended, and she definitely doesn't feel degraded. Granted, there's still plenty of time for that to happen, but as of right now, she just feels... content with doing this for him. She feels... comfortable with and maybe even a little proud of her decision to do this for him.
And she hopes that he realizes that.
But Cuddy doesn't ask for confirmation either way.
She understands that that could only open the doors for disappointment to enter and ruin the mood they both almost militantly worked for.
And besides, the way he's looking at her in this moment, the way his eyes cannot stop roaming her nearly naked figure as though he has to memorize each and every detail of it, really is enough for her. Over the years, she's seen him give her a thousand looks. Some of anger, some of pride, and a lot of wanton desire - she thought she'd seen it all. But Cuddy doesn’t think she’s ever seen anything like this from him before.
It's a look of pure desire for her, of need for her.
Cuddy supposes that she's seen various shades of that before, but it seems like up until now there has also been something within him that tells him to hide that from her. Up until this moment, when he would look at her, it was almost as though everything she could see was being viewed through a sheet of gauze. The gossamer layer making it nearly impossible to see through, if she could detect appreciation and love from him at all, it was little more than a vague notion of both emotions.
But this isn't like that.
There is nothing within him right now telling him to obscure anything from her, it would seem, and in that second, she feels the same way towards him - that there's no reason to hide anything from him, especially nothing in regards to how she feels about him.
That's not to say that things won't go back to normal afterwards, she quickly tells herself. Because they will; they always do, and this moment isn't going to undo their combined experiences that have left them with the constant impulse to negate and deny and obfuscate and deflect.
That will always be there.
And the irony of the situation isn't lost on her at all. That they should only be able to find this startling honesty while hiding behind these bizarre roles, while she's pretending to be fourteen with her hands tied behind her back, says a lot about their relationship.
She knows this.
But she's also willing to ignore it. As much as it's not in her nature to pretend that everything's okay between them, nor in her nature to leave unfixable problems alone, she understands that there really is no solution to this. At least, there's no solution that she can actively set into motion; she can't force herself much less him to get over whatever issues have led them to this point. And if she tries to do that, the only thing that will happen is one, or more than likely both of them, will be pissed.
So she keeps her mouth shut until House breaks their silence and asks her, "Do you know how hot you are right now?"
Cuddy understands that at best it would be arrogant to admit that she does. At worst it would call attention to just how much he's giving away right now, and she doesn't want to do that.
Searching for the right words, she licks her lips. Her words tentatively chosen, she tells him honestly, "I'm just glad that you like it."
He nods his head once but doesn't say anything at first. She can't do anything but wonder why that is, but she guesses that he's not particularly interested in agreeing with her too much; he probably doesn't want to give her the approval she thinks she shouldn't want (but does).
Eventually though, as he pulls off his t-shirt, he does speak up. "There's nowhere to run, soon-to-be-fucked Lisa," he tells her in a voice that reminds her vaguely of the villains in horror movies, and it goes without saying that he's slipped back into his role as her school principal.
She follows in suit. Half-heartedly, she tries to sit up, using the hands behind her to push up on the rest of her body. "No, I'm not," she says in a bratty voice.
But her words mean absolutely nothing. In the context of the situation, it's obvious that she's just saying that; she didn't come all this way not to come.
Clearly knowing that, he stops her from sitting up. His hands grab her hips and press down firmly so that she's stuck on the mattress. "Now, now," he tells her greasily. "Be a good girl and take your punishment."
He positions himself between her thighs, and she knows that they are so close to being joined together in a way that makes her never want to be separated from him. Her clitoris is aching, her body slick and waiting for him, and she wants him so badly... which makes it hard if not impossible to pretend that she doesn't want this.
But she tries, turning her face away from as he tries to kiss her. And she supposes that it works, because doing so makes him angry... Or at least it makes him pretend to be angry, the way his erection presses insistently into her inner thigh proof enough that he's secretly enjoying this display.
House sighs dramatically, the noise enough to draw her gaze back to him. She can see that he looks disappointed, but she thinks - well, she hopes anyway - that that has everything to do with the role he's playing and nothing to do with her as Cuddy.
Her confirmation comes in the form of a question. "Do you think that it's in your best interest to deny me what I want, child?"
Cuddy shimmies her hips a little to try and push him off of her. Secretly it makes her slightly nervous to do this; she wants it to seem real, but she doesn't want to actually toss him off of her. More importantly, she doesn't want to accidentally hit his thigh and ruin everything, so she tries to make small motions that add some realism to the act while still making it absolutely impossible for her to hurt him.
Affecting her tone so that she sounds just the right combination of scared and angry, she gives a non-answer to his question. "You can't do this to me. I am a good girl, and I didn't do anything wrong. And if you force me to have sex with you, as soon as my parents find out about it, you'll be arrested. You'll…"
House runs the head of his penis through her slick folds. He purposely rubs along her clit, eliciting a moan from her and a pointed look from him.
She's quick to bite her lip in an attempt to get herself back under control. She doesn't want to ruin this for him by being unable to give him the show she wants.
But that is beginning to feel like an impossible task, because she was unprepared for him to touch her like this. And with his cock teasing her entrance, it seems so hard to pretend that she doesn't want this.
"I won't be arrested," House tells her quickly. "You can tell anyone you meet about what's about to happen, but they'll never believe you."
She pretends as though she's trying to sound confident. Holding her chin up high, she says defiantly, "Yes, they will."
"No, they won't." Whereas she was faking confidence, the assurance in his voice is very real - as is, she tells herself, the tenderness in the way he leans forward and brushes a loose strand of hair out of her face. In a didactic tone, he asks her, "Do you know why?"
He doesn't give her a chance to answer as he pulls away from her. "Because you do want this," he explains. "You can say you don't want this, but I can tell that you do. That's why you were petting the kitty in the boys' locker room. That's why you had no problem getting all nice and wet for Daddy in the living room just now. That's why you had no problem offering to suck my cock and why your pussy is so juicy and noisy right now."
His dick in his hand, he proves the point by rubbing his cock along her slit. And Cuddy can't deny that part of what he's saying: she is ridiculously wet for him, the meeting of his skin against hers making the slightest bit of a slick sound that turns her on even more. "You're a slut," House concludes, drawing her attention away from what he's doing. "Nobody's going to believe a slut."
She shakes her head and tries to close her legs. But he immediately sees what she's trying to do and puts a stop to it. His hands run underneath her knees and grab onto the joints. With an almost violent speed, he pushes her legs up towards her chest.
Dryly she thinks that if it weren't for her regular five-mile runs, tennis, and the errant Mommy and Daughter yoga class (also known as chasing an impatient toddler who had no interest in yoga for two hours), the move would hurt. But as she's flexible, she can easily adjust to the change in position.
Her legs are in the air, and that leaves her completely exposed to him. "Yes, they will," she fights back nervously - well in a way that's supposed to sound nervous even though she's not. How can she be nervous about being naked in front of someone who has seen her naked more times than she would like to admit?
She doesn't get to answer her own question though, because he abruptly pulls her out of her own thoughts. She supposes she should have expected him to do this, but she's actually surprised when he spanks what little ass she has exposed hard. The loud snap filling the air is followed by a legitimate cry of her own and the even more real harsh sting on the lower part of her right butt cheek.
"No, they won't," he replies in a vicious voice. "And if you insist on lying to me, to yourself, in front of me, I will have no choice but to conclude that you're an incorrigible little girl who has yet to learn that she's done something bad."
"But -"
She doesn't get a chance to finish the thought as he spanks her again in the exact same spot as before. Only this time tears spring to her eyes from the force of the blow. Although she can't be sure if that's the result of him hitting her harder or that area of skin simply being less tolerant of such a smack, it doesn't really matter to her; it hurts, and she sniffles loudly but says nothing.
It's not so much out of fear that keeps her quiet as much as it is that she knows that House will be looking for any reason to give her the birthday spankings she managed to avoid earlier.
The most obvious truth is that she still doesn't really want them. She doesn't mind rough sex or the occasional pat on her backside. Hell, she wouldn't even mind a couple or several smacks on the ass.
But House is old - old enough that taking his birthday spankings would be an automatic day or two of being too uncomfortable to sit at her desk.
She doesn't really want that. But at the same time, if he's desperate to do it, she's already resigned herself, she supposes, to being over his knee. Her attitude little more than a mental shrug, Cuddy’s not necessarily excited about the possibility, but she’ll do what he wants if he feels that strongly about it.
He must not, though, she quickly decides, because he then gives her a way out. Of course it doesn’t really sound like it, but she inherently recognizes the choice being offered to her when he tells her, “You can keep fighting this if you choose. But this will happen one way or another. So really it’s up to you if I’m going to make your ass as pink and hot as your pussy before I take your virginity.”
It's a little weird to hear him talk about taking her virginity. Considering the amount of times they've seen each other naked, considering how long it's been since she was a virgin, it's strange to have this conversation as though she were sixteen in the backseat of her boyfriend’s Camaro.
Upon thinking that, she can't help but smile... which is the last thing he seems to want. Because as soon as he sees her upturned lips, House delivers another swat, the hardest one yet too, to her ass. This time the sting is slow to dissipate, and she can feel herself breaking out into a sweat.
A light sheen covering her skin, she's not sure if it's out of nervousness or desire or something else. But the pain is mingling with that warm throbbing feeling that has yet to be relieved in an odd way; so much so she thinks she's losing her mind. A little, plaintive cry escaping her, her smile disappears quickly.
House asks her, "Are you going to behave now?"
Cuddy immediately nods her head in agreement, unable and unwilling to prolong this any longer. Her voice hoarse, she nearly whispers, "Yes."
He smiles in an oily manner at her. Poising himself at her entrance, he says, "Good." And there's a distinct amount of approval in his tone, which is reinforced by the fact that he lets go of her legs.
Planting her feet on either side of his waist, she waits for him to thrust inside of her, braces for the swift movement that will surely take her breath away. She can feel him pressed against her, can feel the head of his cock just lightly probing her.
But he doesn't enter her.
Not yet.
And it's obvious from the look in his face that he's about to ask her for something else. He looks too contemplative, too assessing to be innocent.
So it comes as no surprise when he leans forward, allowing his stomach to press against her in a way that's not exactly kind. Although it doesn't hurt, there's no room for her to go. She's trapped, pressed between him and the mattress with her knuckles digging into her back, and his message is clear. She's staying right here, right where he wants her until he decides otherwise.
Resting his weight on her and his elbows, House orders her, "Beg me."
Intuitively Cuddy understands what he wants; he wants her to beg for him to have sex with her. But she pretends not to know, believing that he would enjoy it more if he had to explain it to her. Not to mention, she doesn't like the precedent set by eagerly asking for it, as that can only come back and bite her in the ass in the future.
Her brow crinkling in confusion, she asks innocently, "What?"
"Ask me," he says in a voice that's as thick with desire as his dick is hard. "Beg me to fuck you." She fakes hesitating, and angrily he grabs some of her hair. He ends up yanking it hard enough that some of the dark strands escape the silky confines of the ribbon holding the pigtails together, and she whimpers a little for dramatic effect. "Tell me that you understand what a dirty little girl you've been. Show me that you've learned what happens to dirty little girls, Lisa."
Squirming a little underneath him, she's tempted to ask him to stop using her first name. Especially in this context, it's just weird to her, and she doesn't really like it.
But automatically Cuddy realizes that calling attention to the matter would only encourage him. So she says instead, prodding him in a different way, "But I don't know what happens to dirty girls..."
His answer is immediate, making her wonder once more just how long he's held this fantasy. "They get fucked. They get big cocks shoved into their slippery pussies." Her lips form an O, but no sound comes out. Which he seems to be okay with, because he just keeps talking. "Now, tell me that that's what you want."
Mentally she shrugs. "That's what I want," she parrots, pretending like she's not feeling it at all.
House contemplates her words for a few moments before he actually does shrug. "Good enough for me."
But somehow she thinks it probably isn't, because he thrusts forward hard. With a voracity that's almost punishing he enters her, and although she tried to prepare herself for him, she realizes that she didn't do that enough. Because as fluid as the motion is, as easy as it is for him to push himself into her to the hilt, there is the slight sting from the intrusion; there is a small, vague burning that makes her hiss.
To be honest, it's a little embarrassing - for her anyway. He probably doesn't care, but she kind of does, and the fact that sex can still sometimes be uncomfortable makes her feel... in some ways, maybe just a little, inadequate.
Feeling as though she's made a mistake, Cuddy tries to cover it up. Whimpering, she pretends as though she's trying to get away from him by wiggling her hips a little. "It hurts."
For a very brief second, she starts to think that maybe he's taken her seriously; he starts to pull out, his dick easily slipping out, thanks to her moisture. And that's definitely not what she wanted at all. But before she can even open her mouth to tell him that she didn't really mean that it hurt, House slams back into her.
If she had her arms loose, her hands would have clawed instinctively at his shoulders, she thinks. However, since she's tied up, she has no choice but to gasp loudly and take it. "Of course it hurts," he says snidely. "This is your punishment. Punishment isn't supposed to feel good."
"But..." Her voice trails off as he thrusts a few more times, hitting her g-spot. It's hard to concentrate on the part she's supposed to be playing, harder still when that role requires her to essentially ignore what her body and her mind naturally want.
Taking a few deep breaths, she tries to ignore the way his mouth has found her nipple. "But..." House sucks the rosy flesh into his mouth, his tongue laving over the sensitive bud as soon as he does so. He suckles at her breast, the flames of her desire lightly being stoked as his cock moves in and out of her. "But I'm a virgin," she cries eventually, finding her voice with effort.
Immediately House lets go of her breast, a small trail of spit forming in small beads from his lower lip to her nipple. He looks at her approvingly and moves one of his hands to cup her cheek. "You were a virgin, Lisa," he points out arrogantly. He gives her a chaste peck on the lips and slows the motion of her hips in a way that would make her, as a first-timer to sex, feel better.
Seeing as how this isn't really her first time, though, it just manages to frustrate her.
Perhaps sensing this, House taunts her. "You know, I didn't think it was possible for a virgin to want it so bad. But you're so tight and wet that I guess you’re the exception. Aren't you?"
She shakes her head no for the vague reason that it just seems like the right thing to do. Which makes him curious. His gaze intent on her, he asks, "No?"
His hand travels downward, the shift in position forcing him to support all of his weight on one arm and her. Being pressed into the mattress a little more, the smattering of hair on his chest and belly tickling her breasts and stomach, Cuddy is about to whine about being uncomfortable.
However, he doesn't give her a chance as his thumb lightly grazes her clit, and all of the potential complaints within her dissolve into a moan.
Clearly able to maintain his own control, House asks her in attempt to clarify, "No, you're not tight and wet or no, you're not a virgin?"
She closes her eyes, letting the sensation of his dick sliding in and out of her, hitting all the right spots as it does so, wash over her. She doesn't want to answer the question, doesn't give a crap about the question. So she tries to ignore it, ignore him and this stupid little game they've decided to play. Figuring that it doesn't matter anymore, she focuses on the act itself.
And that gets her into trouble.
She doesn't realize that she's teetering on the brink of the edge of his patience, as she's too busy toying with inklings of an orgasm. Not even when he tries to get her attention - "Lisa?" - does she respond.
But that all changes when he abruptly pulls out of her.
The weight of him is gone from the top of her body. The fullness of him inside of her is taken from her. And she opens her eyes, wildly looking for him, for an explanation.
When she catches sight of him, he's standing at the foot of the bed. His disapproving gaze on her, he looks equal parts sad and furious.
Worried, she asks, "What's going on?"
He shakes his head. "I see you haven't learned a thing."
Cuddy isn't sure what he means by that, and the concern that she's done something seriously wrong fills her almost as completely as he had seconds ago. This is his fantasy, after all, and she's operating blind, largely unaware of what it is he's pictured in his head all of these years. Although she doesn't think she's done anything wrong, she can't deny that it's possible that she's done something he doesn't want or like.
However, she doesn't get a chance to ask what's wrong. Before the words can even escape her, he holds up a hand and turns around. Stalking towards the bathroom door and not the front door, she tries to tell herself that that's a good sign. But the words feel hollow, and she swallows nervously. And although she supposes that this is meant to relax her, she can't help but be even more distressed when he orders her, "Stay exactly where you are. If you move even so much as an inch, I'm going to spank you with my your hairbrush until you can't sit down for a week."
He glares at her to let her know that he's completely serious about that.
And since, again, she has no real love of spankings (although she supposes that there is something to be said for her masochistic tendencies if she's willing to do this), she's determined to obey him as best as she can.
Staying exactly where she is, Cuddy ignores the sound of him rummaging for something in her bathroom. Or at least she tries her hardest to do that, but that’s all easier said than done. Her initial instinct being to barge in after him and stop him from making whatever mess he’s sure to be making, she has to fight with herself to stay put.
She tries to reason that anything House is doing can’t be all that bad. There’s nothing in the bathroom she minds being broken or destroyed (all that much). There’s nothing he could be concocting that would be that bad.
And really, the more she thinks about it, the more she believes that this is probably part of his plan. He knows just how much she despises him making messes; he knows just how little patience she has for being kept in the dark - particularly when she’s ignorant about what he’s doing.
So… if anything, he’s probably doing this to mess with her, she thinks. He’s probably doing this just so she’ll chase after him and, in doing so, give him a reason to punish her in the way he’s obviously been itching to do.
Knowing that, Cuddy isn’t surprised when all of a sudden the noise stops and House calls out her name. Calls out her real name, she immediately amends, and not Lisa.
Well, Lisa is her real name, she tells herself after a second of consideration. But nevertheless, it's not his name for her; if he's ever called her Lisa in the past, it's been under a very specific set of circumstances where someone else had already referred to her by her proper name. And of course there had been that one instance where House had sent Wilson flowers using her name…
Really though, she wasn't - isn't Lisa - to him, and she feels, maybe foolishly so, that if this were simply part of a game, he would continue to use her first name, wield it like a weapon around her to make her feel like she was fifteen.
Then again...
Cuddy thinks almost immediately that she's been around him for far too long, because the idea crosses her mind that he's only using her last name to lull her into a false sense of security. He could very easily, she realizes, be standing in the bathroom, making noise, calling out her name, so that she'll think something's wrong and break her word by getting off the bed.
The thought completely pessimistic and negative, it's a possibility she wishes she didn't have to consider. But since it’s one she can't easily dismiss, since she knows that with House it's absolutely possible, probable, and maybe even likely that he's doing this to screw with her, she stays exactly where she is.
Which is the wrong move apparently.
Within seconds House lumbers out of the bathroom, his eyes angry and annoyed. "Did you hear me?" It's a simple question, but his voice is demanding and accusatory, turning an easy question into something she's not sure she wants to answer truthfully. And that makes her hesitate to the point where he's able to deduce the reality of the situation without any confirmation from her. "I'll take that as a yes," he says gruffly, stalking towards her.
"You told me to stay where I was," she points out in a way that's not unlike how a child - how House himself - tries to bend the rules to avoid punishment.
At first House doesn't say anything in response; he just keeps moving closer to her until he's towering over her.
Viciously his fingers close around the little neck tie she's still wearing, and he yanks on it hard, as though it's a leash for him to drag her by. She grunts from the force and in surprise at the move. "Change of plans," he says, brushing her off as though what she's saying is stupid. "Now get up."
Once more, he tugs on the pink plaid tie - jerks it so hard that the square of Velcro keeping the tie around her neck breaks apart. The sound of the Velcro being pulled apart fiber by fiber fills the room, the rough material scratching the back of Cuddy's neck as it comes apart in House's hand.
She thinks if she had a free hand, she would rub the bit of now irritated skin. But since she's still bound, all she can do is watch House, almost heartbroken, look down at the tie clutched in his grasp. It's obvious in the way he frowns that he was really hoping he could drag her to the bathroom literally by the collar.
That he can't is something that makes Cuddy vindictively pleased. As much as she's not even all that annoyed with him, it's become habit - again, thanks to him - to take some amusement when things don't go exactly the way he wants them to.
Tossing the tie to the floor, he whines, "What the hell?"
"It's not a leash," she explains dryly.
"Shut up."
And she does. The scowl he's offering alone is all the reaction she needs from him.
Continue on to the next part
Author: Duckie Nicks
Rating: NC-17 - please see the warning!
Characters: House/Cuddy
Summary: For his birthday, Cuddy decides to fulfill one of House's deepest fantasies. But soon she realizes that it's going to take a lot more than sex to make him happy. House/Cuddy one shot. Spoilers for season 5. CONTAINS SMUT..
Author's Notes: This is meant to be a companion piece to Things you can tell just by Looking at Her. Although you don't need to read that to understand this, it might help. This also fulfills 50kinkyways prompt # 40. Virgins. This fic has been split into sections because of Livejournal's character limits.
Previous Parts: Part One
Warning: This fic contains explicit sex scenes. That means includes masturbation and voyeurism, anal sex, ageplay, principal/student role-play, dominance/submission, a little bondage, spanking, and rape fantasy. If any of these things squick you, please turn away now.
Disclaimer: The show isn't mine, so please don't sue me.
At first, Cuddy doesn’t know how to react. She wants to make sure that she’s heard him right, but at the same time, she understands that doing that could very easily look like doubt. Which is the last thing they need at the moment, because it’s a sure-fire way of starting a fight with him.
But House takes her non-reaction differently. Clearly assuming her hesitation is over the act and not his ability to actually go through with it, he points out, “You’re dressed like a little girl. And besides… I know you. You can’t exactly pretend that that kind of thing doesn’t turn you on.”
She rolls her eyes. “You always think I’m much kinkier than I am.”
That fact doesn’t particularly annoy her, although sometimes the jokes do get a bit old. And right now, to be honest, Cuddy is willing to let him do whatever he wants if it means that she gets laid. So she goes with it. “All right,” she tells him with a shrug, bending over so she can take off the tights off.
As she does so, House says, “Well, if you’re doing what I want, then you must be just as kinky as I think you are.”
His point is one she chooses to ignore. Tossing the white tights at him, she dismisses him. “Whatever. I would just like to have sex some time today. So if that’s at all possible,” she says, sounding more peevish than she means to. “That’d be really nice.”
“Well that’s not exactly my fault now, is it?” Now House sounds just as annoyed as she is confused. And he has to explain quickly, “If you hadn’t decided to change locations on me, I wouldn’t have followed you. If I hadn’t followed you, I wouldn’t have twisted my leg weirdly while trying to walk with an erection.”
If he weren’t being such an ass, she thinks she might have apologized for something she couldn’t have possibly predicted. But since he is being an asshole, Cuddy just smirks. “Next time we decide to have sex, I’ll perfectly choreograph what we’re going to do first. I’ll even draw a map just for you, so you don’t get lost along the way.”
He sneers, unraveling the tights she’s tossed at him. As he does so, he tells her very seriously, “Shut up and put your mouth to better use.”
His attitude naturally doesn’t make her feel entirely inclined to do that. If anything, Cuddy has a pretty nasty desire growing inside of her to bite him. But that, she tells herself, wouldn’t exactly make for a very happy birthday, and more importantly she wants to have sex, so she simply shrugs off her anger.
For now anyway (she reserves the right to be angry later).
Moving back up the bed, she begins to take off his pants. It’s relatively easy to do, despite the fact that he stubbornly refuses to help her. His jeans still unzipped and unbuttoned from earlier, she harshly tugs on the fabric, her irritation bleeding through to the surface in a flash of weakness.
Feeling his gaze narrow on her disapprovingly, Cuddy slows her movements. Especially as she pulls his pants and boxers down over his thighs, she’s particularly careful, the knowledge that hurting him like that isn’t going to make her feel better running through her mind.
Although she can’t deny that the idea is beginning to sound more and more enticing as each second passes.
And by the time she gets his bottom half completely naked, she’s not just a little frustrated. Annoyed she says, “You could have helped.”
He ignores the comment. Instead he tells her, “You know my penis isn’t going to suck itself…”
She doesn’t miss a beat, crawling off of the bed. “I’ll go get the vacuum cleaner then.”
But she’s barely taken a step before he grabs her roughly. Yanking her hard, he pulls her back down onto the bed, her body being crushed against his. His lips at her ear, he harshly whispers, “Do you remember what I told you?”
Her lips turn down into a slight frown as she tries to decipher what it is he’s talking about. It’s House, so it very well could mean anything, she realizes, which makes it hard to know exactly what he’s referencing.
Of course House seems to know that she doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He nips at her earlobe, making the skin sting slightly, before reminding her, “I told you that if you wanted to come, you had to do what I say.”
“Oh. Right,” she says dimly, vaguely recalling those words.
“Now I was willing to rethink spanking you… I can rethink it some more if necessary.” He lets the threat sink in a little bit before asking, “Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Realizing she’s been backed into a corner, with no other options left, she nods her head slowly. “Yes,” she admits albeit reluctantly; she’s not opposed, in theory, to giving him what he wants. But as she’s so used to denying him, questioning him - redirecting him, it’s hard for her to acquiesce. Yet somehow she manages to do it. Which earns her a kiss to the side of her head.
“Good girl,” he tells her in a voice that makes the whole phrase sound so dirty.
He lets go of her, so he can lean back against the pillows. He’s silent; he doesn’t say a word or even look at her. But what he wants is very clear. And although part of her isn’t all that interested in giving him what he wants, she does do that.
She slithers down to his dick, offering a couple kisses along his stomach as she does. Her fingertips lightly curling around his cock, she slowly pumps him.
House sighs his approval, but she’s obviously hoping for more than that. Hovering over him, she licks the head of his penis languidly. He’s still not hard yet, but there are the beginnings of an erection, and so she continues to slowly taunt and tease him.
Moving down the length of his penis, Cuddy presses delicate kisses along his warm flesh. Occasionally she allows her tongue to give him a short lick that follows the contours of his veins. The added moisture lets her stroke him more insistently, and she knows it won’t be long before he’s worked up into a frenzy.
As her loose fist moves up and down, her mouth moves further still towards his balls. She’s so close to him now that the light smattering of dark pubic hair brushes against her cheek, the coarse curls tickling her skin. And she’s just about to kiss him some more when she feels him sit up.
Fingers wrapping around and tugging at her pigtails, House pulls her away from her task at hand, away from his body and the intimate pleasure she’s trying to give him. Which honestly irritates her, if she’s being completely honest. As much as it makes sense for him to derive pleasure from the act of her mouth, the fact of the matter is she too gets pleasure from it. She likes the way he tastes, the way he feels, the way he smells, and she loves knowing that she’s the one in control of the situation, of making him feel good. And understanding that being pulled away now means he’ll very quickly have control over her, Cuddy isn’t thrilled.
The emotion must read across her face, because House smirks at her disappointment. “Don’t worry. I have better uses for you,” he tells her in a way that only accentuates what she’s feeling. Before she can even protest, he reaches behind her and yanks her unbuttoned shirt off of her.
Now in front of him in nothing but her skirt, bra, and tie, she can feel some of her irritation and disappointment fleeing. Because at least this means they’re moving closer towards the actual fun part of the evening. They might be inching towards it in an agonizingly slow pace that makes her warm and wet and furious all at the same time, but thankfully, they’re beginning to make some progress.
When his warm hands snake up her back and undo the clasp of her bra, she practically sighs in relief. And almost as though he’s feeling her impatience as well, House’s touch becomes more insistent as he pulls the bra off of her, the lacy straps scratching at her arms as he removes the offending article of clothing. She’s topless in a matter of seconds, a nice departure from everything up until this point in the evening.
Goosebumps begin to form along her skin. A more naïve person might believe that it’s the way House is ogling her that’s making that happen. But the truth is the air conditioning is set too low for her to be anything other than cold in the artificially chilled air. And quickly the lack of clothing begins to have its effect on her; her nipples harden slightly at the feel of the cool air hitting them, and House appreciatively rubs a thumb over one of the tight buds.
She arches a little into his touch. Although she’s never had sensitive breasts, has never been able to have the kind of reaction that men like to brag about, she can still appreciate House’s hand on her body. She can still enjoy the intimacy of the act and the way her nipple and his dick become increasingly hard by it.
“Put your hands behind your back,” House orders in a harsh whisper.
Even under the best of circumstances, that doesn’t sound like such a good idea, Cuddy thinks to herself. So she doesn’t move at all, instead deflecting with the question, “You trying to arrest me, officer?”
He scoffs. “Of course not. If there’s one thing porn has taught me, it’s that you never mix your role playing scenarios.”
Cuddy is sure that there’s a reason behind that. But given the subject matter, she’s not exactly convinced that she wants to know the reason, so she just nods her head in agreement. “Right.”
They sit there in silence for a moment before he gets annoyed. “Well?”
There’s a voice inside of her that is practically shouting that this is a bad idea. No, not a bad idea - a terrible idea, it screams in the back of her mind. But another part of her has already realized that…
She can’t really tell him no.
Or rather, she can; House won’t force her into anything if she’s that opposed to it. But her reticence is more due to the fact that she’s instinctively wary of giving House anything he wants and less the result of an actual fear of the order itself. And that means that telling him no isn’t likely to happen, as he’ll be able to cajole her into doing what he wants.
Sighing she places her hands behind her back. There’s no point, she decides, in trying to fight him, in trying to distract him from what he wants. At the most in ten minutes, he’ll be getting what he wants anyway, so she supposes she might as well just save them time.
Perhaps feeling the same way, House quickly makes work of using the tights she gave him to tie her wrists together. The bonds are comfortably secure around her (it’s her first instinct to automatically test them), and he seems quite pleased by this fact, a small smile appearing on his face as she half-heartedly tries to free herself.
Once she accepts that that won’t be happening until he allows it to, she stills. Something like dread pools in the pit of her stomach, and that feeling isn't alleviated by the fact that House is looking at her in the same manner a wolf might eye a sheep. If anything, it's so unsettling that she has half a mind to put a stop to the whole thing right then and there.
It seems stupid to have just agreed to something only to change her mind within thirty seconds. But nevertheless, Cuddy's remembering just why it is that it has become instinctual for her to distrust him; he is often worthy of distrust. Quietly she starts to say, shifting on the bed, "House..."
"Relax," he tells her in a confident voice, in a way that suggests that, even if he senses her discomfort, he's not worried by it in the least.
Sometimes, she thinks, she despises his arrogance... although in this case, she also realizes that he's probably right.
"I'll let you go... eventually," House explains, breaking through her thoughts.
She pretends to be surprised by this. "What, you weren't going to chain me to the bed post and make me your sex slave for the rest of my life?"
His gaze narrows on her. "Don't joke, Lisa," he warns, sneering out her name in the same manner he has all day. "I might actually take what you're saying seriously. And you don't want me to do that, do you?"
Cuddy shakes her head no. No, she doesn't want him to take her seriously in this instance. And even though she realizes that he wouldn't ever do something like that to her... permanently, she doesn't doubt, not even for a second, that he might find some inspiration from her words in this moment; especially once he learns that Rachel's been sent to Cuddy's sister's for the weekend, House would most certainly take advantage of the fact that he had Cuddy all to himself. "No, I don't want that," she tells him quietly.
And that seems to be enough for him, his mood lightening a little bit. "I'll let you go," he explains, drawing the words out in a hesitant way that makes her nervous. "I don't need to tie you up for you to know who you belong to, do I?"
The sentiment makes her want to punch him. The question itself infuriates her, the pointed, knowing look he's giving her compounding that feeling. And worst of all, there's the knowledge within her that he's not entirely wrong about his assessment of her; as much as she doesn't like to think of herself as being owned, Cuddy definitely feels at times that she is.
She's felt that way for years, for a period of time that extends long beyond the many months that constitutes their romantic relationship. Every time she's chosen him over the good of the hospital; every time he interrupted a date or chased away a prospective suitor; every time he looked - and sometimes still does look - at her as though he can see past all of the protective armor she wears to see who she is with an accuracy far more potent than her own a times...
Yes. She doesn't doubt that she belongs to him.
Nor does she doubt her momentary and occasional resentment of that ownership. As enjoyable as having that relationship with him can be, there are times where it honestly, for lack of a better term, sucks.
It goes without saying that when he's acting like an arrogant asshole (like right now for example), she despises her attachment to him.
And she opens her mouth to tell him all of this. But House is prepared for his, one of his long fingers resting on her lips to silence her. "I'll untie you eventually," he reminds her. "In fact, I wouldn't be tying you up at all if you'd fucked me like I told you to."
She sighs. “I’m sorry,” but Cuddy is aware that she doesn’t sound apologetic in the least.
“Just stay put and do as I tell you,” he tells her warningly. Cuddy nods her head in understanding, not really feeling the effort it would take to fight him, and he rewards her with a rough kiss that threatens to steal away all the irritation within her.
Her mouth opening to him obediently, in the back of her mind, she supposes that there are worse things than doing what he wants. She exhales roughly through her nose as one of his hands snakes up her thigh. His fingers are warm against her cooling skin, and she shivers a little at his featherweight touch.
And then his fingers are fondling her. His hand covers her mound in a protective - no, possessive gesture, his palm flush against her bare skin. House stretches his fingers out, so that his thumb can just lightly touch her clitoris. His other hand still on her breast, he every so often tugs at her nipple, the soft flesh pebbling more than she would have thought possible.
She feels her desire reaching a new height, the emotion washing over hotly in a way that the air conditioning dare not touch. It claims her completely, makes her head swim so much that she feels as though she's been drinking. So when he slides two fingers inside of her warm, drenched pussy, it's not surprise that Cuddy moans into his mouth. The sound is tamped down a little by his curious tongue, but there's no doubt in her mind that he's heard it; the feel of his smirk against her lips is proof of that.
He pumps her pussy slowly with his index and middle finger. Too slowly, she amends quickly, as she dimly realizes that the height her pleasure has gone to has reached a plateau. The limit one set by him and not her own body, it's maddening on so many levels.
She can't come, won't be able to, because he's not fingering her fast and hard enough. His touch on her nipple and clit isn’t insistent to let her have the release she's been contemplating on having all day long. And what's really frustrating about that fact is this:
She can't do anything about it.
His tongue and lips have essentially silenced her. Her hands are bound behind her back, so she can't take matters literally into her own hands. Really, unless she really wants to see how well her childhood gymnastics lessons have held up by trying to pleasure herself with her foot (which is just... too much even for her, even when she's dressed like this), she understands that she's stuck like this.
She knows she'll have to wait.
For House to give her what she needs.
She'll have to wait for him to decide that she can't take anymore, to decide that she's earned an orgasm.
It's that thought that has her irritation returning to her at full force.
And she doesn't know if House can feel that emotion radiating off of her or if he's just too horny to draw this out any longer. Hell, she supposes it could just be a wonderful cosmic coincidence, but whatever the reason, he pulls away from her then, her bottom lip lightly being tugged by his lips as he does so.
He slips his fingers from her, which she hates. Feeling empty and unsatisfied all at once, she's pouting when he pushes on her shoulders. One of hands wet with her moisture, her fluids are wiped off onto her clavicle as House presses her back into the mattress of the bed.
Immediately Cuddy realizes that this won't be the most comfortable sex she's ever had. Her hands and arms are trapped between the bed and her back. Her knuckles are poking at odd angles into her spine, and she can't imagine any of that will feel better once House and his added weight are on top of her.
But she doesn't have much time to complain about that, because House's hand slides between her thighs, parting them agonizingly slow. Her legs spread, the pink tartan skirt bunched around her hips, her nipples hard, her folds slick with want of him, and hands tied behind her back, she can't deny how incredibly lewd she looks right now. And she can't really imagine what this is doing for House mentally; the way his erection in the last two minutes or so has grown is all she needs to know that he's enjoying it.
She hopes, however, that he appreciates the act for other reasons. Most specifically, she hopes that he understands that she wouldn't do this for just anyone. Christ, even just a couple of months ago, she would have said that she'd never do this for anyone. She would have said that fulfilling someone else's fantasies like this, as though she were an object, as though she were walking porn, was offensive. Derogatory even, she supposes.
But being with him has changed her... and not in a bad way, she thinks. As embarrassed as some part of her has been this entire day, she isn't offended, and she definitely doesn't feel degraded. Granted, there's still plenty of time for that to happen, but as of right now, she just feels... content with doing this for him. She feels... comfortable with and maybe even a little proud of her decision to do this for him.
And she hopes that he realizes that.
But Cuddy doesn't ask for confirmation either way.
She understands that that could only open the doors for disappointment to enter and ruin the mood they both almost militantly worked for.
And besides, the way he's looking at her in this moment, the way his eyes cannot stop roaming her nearly naked figure as though he has to memorize each and every detail of it, really is enough for her. Over the years, she's seen him give her a thousand looks. Some of anger, some of pride, and a lot of wanton desire - she thought she'd seen it all. But Cuddy doesn’t think she’s ever seen anything like this from him before.
It's a look of pure desire for her, of need for her.
Cuddy supposes that she's seen various shades of that before, but it seems like up until now there has also been something within him that tells him to hide that from her. Up until this moment, when he would look at her, it was almost as though everything she could see was being viewed through a sheet of gauze. The gossamer layer making it nearly impossible to see through, if she could detect appreciation and love from him at all, it was little more than a vague notion of both emotions.
But this isn't like that.
There is nothing within him right now telling him to obscure anything from her, it would seem, and in that second, she feels the same way towards him - that there's no reason to hide anything from him, especially nothing in regards to how she feels about him.
That's not to say that things won't go back to normal afterwards, she quickly tells herself. Because they will; they always do, and this moment isn't going to undo their combined experiences that have left them with the constant impulse to negate and deny and obfuscate and deflect.
That will always be there.
And the irony of the situation isn't lost on her at all. That they should only be able to find this startling honesty while hiding behind these bizarre roles, while she's pretending to be fourteen with her hands tied behind her back, says a lot about their relationship.
She knows this.
But she's also willing to ignore it. As much as it's not in her nature to pretend that everything's okay between them, nor in her nature to leave unfixable problems alone, she understands that there really is no solution to this. At least, there's no solution that she can actively set into motion; she can't force herself much less him to get over whatever issues have led them to this point. And if she tries to do that, the only thing that will happen is one, or more than likely both of them, will be pissed.
So she keeps her mouth shut until House breaks their silence and asks her, "Do you know how hot you are right now?"
Cuddy understands that at best it would be arrogant to admit that she does. At worst it would call attention to just how much he's giving away right now, and she doesn't want to do that.
Searching for the right words, she licks her lips. Her words tentatively chosen, she tells him honestly, "I'm just glad that you like it."
He nods his head once but doesn't say anything at first. She can't do anything but wonder why that is, but she guesses that he's not particularly interested in agreeing with her too much; he probably doesn't want to give her the approval she thinks she shouldn't want (but does).
Eventually though, as he pulls off his t-shirt, he does speak up. "There's nowhere to run, soon-to-be-fucked Lisa," he tells her in a voice that reminds her vaguely of the villains in horror movies, and it goes without saying that he's slipped back into his role as her school principal.
She follows in suit. Half-heartedly, she tries to sit up, using the hands behind her to push up on the rest of her body. "No, I'm not," she says in a bratty voice.
But her words mean absolutely nothing. In the context of the situation, it's obvious that she's just saying that; she didn't come all this way not to come.
Clearly knowing that, he stops her from sitting up. His hands grab her hips and press down firmly so that she's stuck on the mattress. "Now, now," he tells her greasily. "Be a good girl and take your punishment."
He positions himself between her thighs, and she knows that they are so close to being joined together in a way that makes her never want to be separated from him. Her clitoris is aching, her body slick and waiting for him, and she wants him so badly... which makes it hard if not impossible to pretend that she doesn't want this.
But she tries, turning her face away from as he tries to kiss her. And she supposes that it works, because doing so makes him angry... Or at least it makes him pretend to be angry, the way his erection presses insistently into her inner thigh proof enough that he's secretly enjoying this display.
House sighs dramatically, the noise enough to draw her gaze back to him. She can see that he looks disappointed, but she thinks - well, she hopes anyway - that that has everything to do with the role he's playing and nothing to do with her as Cuddy.
Her confirmation comes in the form of a question. "Do you think that it's in your best interest to deny me what I want, child?"
Cuddy shimmies her hips a little to try and push him off of her. Secretly it makes her slightly nervous to do this; she wants it to seem real, but she doesn't want to actually toss him off of her. More importantly, she doesn't want to accidentally hit his thigh and ruin everything, so she tries to make small motions that add some realism to the act while still making it absolutely impossible for her to hurt him.
Affecting her tone so that she sounds just the right combination of scared and angry, she gives a non-answer to his question. "You can't do this to me. I am a good girl, and I didn't do anything wrong. And if you force me to have sex with you, as soon as my parents find out about it, you'll be arrested. You'll…"
House runs the head of his penis through her slick folds. He purposely rubs along her clit, eliciting a moan from her and a pointed look from him.
She's quick to bite her lip in an attempt to get herself back under control. She doesn't want to ruin this for him by being unable to give him the show she wants.
But that is beginning to feel like an impossible task, because she was unprepared for him to touch her like this. And with his cock teasing her entrance, it seems so hard to pretend that she doesn't want this.
"I won't be arrested," House tells her quickly. "You can tell anyone you meet about what's about to happen, but they'll never believe you."
She pretends as though she's trying to sound confident. Holding her chin up high, she says defiantly, "Yes, they will."
"No, they won't." Whereas she was faking confidence, the assurance in his voice is very real - as is, she tells herself, the tenderness in the way he leans forward and brushes a loose strand of hair out of her face. In a didactic tone, he asks her, "Do you know why?"
He doesn't give her a chance to answer as he pulls away from her. "Because you do want this," he explains. "You can say you don't want this, but I can tell that you do. That's why you were petting the kitty in the boys' locker room. That's why you had no problem getting all nice and wet for Daddy in the living room just now. That's why you had no problem offering to suck my cock and why your pussy is so juicy and noisy right now."
His dick in his hand, he proves the point by rubbing his cock along her slit. And Cuddy can't deny that part of what he's saying: she is ridiculously wet for him, the meeting of his skin against hers making the slightest bit of a slick sound that turns her on even more. "You're a slut," House concludes, drawing her attention away from what he's doing. "Nobody's going to believe a slut."
She shakes her head and tries to close her legs. But he immediately sees what she's trying to do and puts a stop to it. His hands run underneath her knees and grab onto the joints. With an almost violent speed, he pushes her legs up towards her chest.
Dryly she thinks that if it weren't for her regular five-mile runs, tennis, and the errant Mommy and Daughter yoga class (also known as chasing an impatient toddler who had no interest in yoga for two hours), the move would hurt. But as she's flexible, she can easily adjust to the change in position.
Her legs are in the air, and that leaves her completely exposed to him. "Yes, they will," she fights back nervously - well in a way that's supposed to sound nervous even though she's not. How can she be nervous about being naked in front of someone who has seen her naked more times than she would like to admit?
She doesn't get to answer her own question though, because he abruptly pulls her out of her own thoughts. She supposes she should have expected him to do this, but she's actually surprised when he spanks what little ass she has exposed hard. The loud snap filling the air is followed by a legitimate cry of her own and the even more real harsh sting on the lower part of her right butt cheek.
"No, they won't," he replies in a vicious voice. "And if you insist on lying to me, to yourself, in front of me, I will have no choice but to conclude that you're an incorrigible little girl who has yet to learn that she's done something bad."
"But -"
She doesn't get a chance to finish the thought as he spanks her again in the exact same spot as before. Only this time tears spring to her eyes from the force of the blow. Although she can't be sure if that's the result of him hitting her harder or that area of skin simply being less tolerant of such a smack, it doesn't really matter to her; it hurts, and she sniffles loudly but says nothing.
It's not so much out of fear that keeps her quiet as much as it is that she knows that House will be looking for any reason to give her the birthday spankings she managed to avoid earlier.
The most obvious truth is that she still doesn't really want them. She doesn't mind rough sex or the occasional pat on her backside. Hell, she wouldn't even mind a couple or several smacks on the ass.
But House is old - old enough that taking his birthday spankings would be an automatic day or two of being too uncomfortable to sit at her desk.
She doesn't really want that. But at the same time, if he's desperate to do it, she's already resigned herself, she supposes, to being over his knee. Her attitude little more than a mental shrug, Cuddy’s not necessarily excited about the possibility, but she’ll do what he wants if he feels that strongly about it.
He must not, though, she quickly decides, because he then gives her a way out. Of course it doesn’t really sound like it, but she inherently recognizes the choice being offered to her when he tells her, “You can keep fighting this if you choose. But this will happen one way or another. So really it’s up to you if I’m going to make your ass as pink and hot as your pussy before I take your virginity.”
It's a little weird to hear him talk about taking her virginity. Considering the amount of times they've seen each other naked, considering how long it's been since she was a virgin, it's strange to have this conversation as though she were sixteen in the backseat of her boyfriend’s Camaro.
Upon thinking that, she can't help but smile... which is the last thing he seems to want. Because as soon as he sees her upturned lips, House delivers another swat, the hardest one yet too, to her ass. This time the sting is slow to dissipate, and she can feel herself breaking out into a sweat.
A light sheen covering her skin, she's not sure if it's out of nervousness or desire or something else. But the pain is mingling with that warm throbbing feeling that has yet to be relieved in an odd way; so much so she thinks she's losing her mind. A little, plaintive cry escaping her, her smile disappears quickly.
House asks her, "Are you going to behave now?"
Cuddy immediately nods her head in agreement, unable and unwilling to prolong this any longer. Her voice hoarse, she nearly whispers, "Yes."
He smiles in an oily manner at her. Poising himself at her entrance, he says, "Good." And there's a distinct amount of approval in his tone, which is reinforced by the fact that he lets go of her legs.
Planting her feet on either side of his waist, she waits for him to thrust inside of her, braces for the swift movement that will surely take her breath away. She can feel him pressed against her, can feel the head of his cock just lightly probing her.
But he doesn't enter her.
Not yet.
And it's obvious from the look in his face that he's about to ask her for something else. He looks too contemplative, too assessing to be innocent.
So it comes as no surprise when he leans forward, allowing his stomach to press against her in a way that's not exactly kind. Although it doesn't hurt, there's no room for her to go. She's trapped, pressed between him and the mattress with her knuckles digging into her back, and his message is clear. She's staying right here, right where he wants her until he decides otherwise.
Resting his weight on her and his elbows, House orders her, "Beg me."
Intuitively Cuddy understands what he wants; he wants her to beg for him to have sex with her. But she pretends not to know, believing that he would enjoy it more if he had to explain it to her. Not to mention, she doesn't like the precedent set by eagerly asking for it, as that can only come back and bite her in the ass in the future.
Her brow crinkling in confusion, she asks innocently, "What?"
"Ask me," he says in a voice that's as thick with desire as his dick is hard. "Beg me to fuck you." She fakes hesitating, and angrily he grabs some of her hair. He ends up yanking it hard enough that some of the dark strands escape the silky confines of the ribbon holding the pigtails together, and she whimpers a little for dramatic effect. "Tell me that you understand what a dirty little girl you've been. Show me that you've learned what happens to dirty little girls, Lisa."
Squirming a little underneath him, she's tempted to ask him to stop using her first name. Especially in this context, it's just weird to her, and she doesn't really like it.
But automatically Cuddy realizes that calling attention to the matter would only encourage him. So she says instead, prodding him in a different way, "But I don't know what happens to dirty girls..."
His answer is immediate, making her wonder once more just how long he's held this fantasy. "They get fucked. They get big cocks shoved into their slippery pussies." Her lips form an O, but no sound comes out. Which he seems to be okay with, because he just keeps talking. "Now, tell me that that's what you want."
Mentally she shrugs. "That's what I want," she parrots, pretending like she's not feeling it at all.
House contemplates her words for a few moments before he actually does shrug. "Good enough for me."
But somehow she thinks it probably isn't, because he thrusts forward hard. With a voracity that's almost punishing he enters her, and although she tried to prepare herself for him, she realizes that she didn't do that enough. Because as fluid as the motion is, as easy as it is for him to push himself into her to the hilt, there is the slight sting from the intrusion; there is a small, vague burning that makes her hiss.
To be honest, it's a little embarrassing - for her anyway. He probably doesn't care, but she kind of does, and the fact that sex can still sometimes be uncomfortable makes her feel... in some ways, maybe just a little, inadequate.
Feeling as though she's made a mistake, Cuddy tries to cover it up. Whimpering, she pretends as though she's trying to get away from him by wiggling her hips a little. "It hurts."
For a very brief second, she starts to think that maybe he's taken her seriously; he starts to pull out, his dick easily slipping out, thanks to her moisture. And that's definitely not what she wanted at all. But before she can even open her mouth to tell him that she didn't really mean that it hurt, House slams back into her.
If she had her arms loose, her hands would have clawed instinctively at his shoulders, she thinks. However, since she's tied up, she has no choice but to gasp loudly and take it. "Of course it hurts," he says snidely. "This is your punishment. Punishment isn't supposed to feel good."
"But..." Her voice trails off as he thrusts a few more times, hitting her g-spot. It's hard to concentrate on the part she's supposed to be playing, harder still when that role requires her to essentially ignore what her body and her mind naturally want.
Taking a few deep breaths, she tries to ignore the way his mouth has found her nipple. "But..." House sucks the rosy flesh into his mouth, his tongue laving over the sensitive bud as soon as he does so. He suckles at her breast, the flames of her desire lightly being stoked as his cock moves in and out of her. "But I'm a virgin," she cries eventually, finding her voice with effort.
Immediately House lets go of her breast, a small trail of spit forming in small beads from his lower lip to her nipple. He looks at her approvingly and moves one of his hands to cup her cheek. "You were a virgin, Lisa," he points out arrogantly. He gives her a chaste peck on the lips and slows the motion of her hips in a way that would make her, as a first-timer to sex, feel better.
Seeing as how this isn't really her first time, though, it just manages to frustrate her.
Perhaps sensing this, House taunts her. "You know, I didn't think it was possible for a virgin to want it so bad. But you're so tight and wet that I guess you’re the exception. Aren't you?"
She shakes her head no for the vague reason that it just seems like the right thing to do. Which makes him curious. His gaze intent on her, he asks, "No?"
His hand travels downward, the shift in position forcing him to support all of his weight on one arm and her. Being pressed into the mattress a little more, the smattering of hair on his chest and belly tickling her breasts and stomach, Cuddy is about to whine about being uncomfortable.
However, he doesn't give her a chance as his thumb lightly grazes her clit, and all of the potential complaints within her dissolve into a moan.
Clearly able to maintain his own control, House asks her in attempt to clarify, "No, you're not tight and wet or no, you're not a virgin?"
She closes her eyes, letting the sensation of his dick sliding in and out of her, hitting all the right spots as it does so, wash over her. She doesn't want to answer the question, doesn't give a crap about the question. So she tries to ignore it, ignore him and this stupid little game they've decided to play. Figuring that it doesn't matter anymore, she focuses on the act itself.
And that gets her into trouble.
She doesn't realize that she's teetering on the brink of the edge of his patience, as she's too busy toying with inklings of an orgasm. Not even when he tries to get her attention - "Lisa?" - does she respond.
But that all changes when he abruptly pulls out of her.
The weight of him is gone from the top of her body. The fullness of him inside of her is taken from her. And she opens her eyes, wildly looking for him, for an explanation.
When she catches sight of him, he's standing at the foot of the bed. His disapproving gaze on her, he looks equal parts sad and furious.
Worried, she asks, "What's going on?"
He shakes his head. "I see you haven't learned a thing."
Cuddy isn't sure what he means by that, and the concern that she's done something seriously wrong fills her almost as completely as he had seconds ago. This is his fantasy, after all, and she's operating blind, largely unaware of what it is he's pictured in his head all of these years. Although she doesn't think she's done anything wrong, she can't deny that it's possible that she's done something he doesn't want or like.
However, she doesn't get a chance to ask what's wrong. Before the words can even escape her, he holds up a hand and turns around. Stalking towards the bathroom door and not the front door, she tries to tell herself that that's a good sign. But the words feel hollow, and she swallows nervously. And although she supposes that this is meant to relax her, she can't help but be even more distressed when he orders her, "Stay exactly where you are. If you move even so much as an inch, I'm going to spank you with my your hairbrush until you can't sit down for a week."
He glares at her to let her know that he's completely serious about that.
And since, again, she has no real love of spankings (although she supposes that there is something to be said for her masochistic tendencies if she's willing to do this), she's determined to obey him as best as she can.
Staying exactly where she is, Cuddy ignores the sound of him rummaging for something in her bathroom. Or at least she tries her hardest to do that, but that’s all easier said than done. Her initial instinct being to barge in after him and stop him from making whatever mess he’s sure to be making, she has to fight with herself to stay put.
She tries to reason that anything House is doing can’t be all that bad. There’s nothing in the bathroom she minds being broken or destroyed (all that much). There’s nothing he could be concocting that would be that bad.
And really, the more she thinks about it, the more she believes that this is probably part of his plan. He knows just how much she despises him making messes; he knows just how little patience she has for being kept in the dark - particularly when she’s ignorant about what he’s doing.
So… if anything, he’s probably doing this to mess with her, she thinks. He’s probably doing this just so she’ll chase after him and, in doing so, give him a reason to punish her in the way he’s obviously been itching to do.
Knowing that, Cuddy isn’t surprised when all of a sudden the noise stops and House calls out her name. Calls out her real name, she immediately amends, and not Lisa.
Well, Lisa is her real name, she tells herself after a second of consideration. But nevertheless, it's not his name for her; if he's ever called her Lisa in the past, it's been under a very specific set of circumstances where someone else had already referred to her by her proper name. And of course there had been that one instance where House had sent Wilson flowers using her name…
Really though, she wasn't - isn't Lisa - to him, and she feels, maybe foolishly so, that if this were simply part of a game, he would continue to use her first name, wield it like a weapon around her to make her feel like she was fifteen.
Then again...
Cuddy thinks almost immediately that she's been around him for far too long, because the idea crosses her mind that he's only using her last name to lull her into a false sense of security. He could very easily, she realizes, be standing in the bathroom, making noise, calling out her name, so that she'll think something's wrong and break her word by getting off the bed.
The thought completely pessimistic and negative, it's a possibility she wishes she didn't have to consider. But since it’s one she can't easily dismiss, since she knows that with House it's absolutely possible, probable, and maybe even likely that he's doing this to screw with her, she stays exactly where she is.
Which is the wrong move apparently.
Within seconds House lumbers out of the bathroom, his eyes angry and annoyed. "Did you hear me?" It's a simple question, but his voice is demanding and accusatory, turning an easy question into something she's not sure she wants to answer truthfully. And that makes her hesitate to the point where he's able to deduce the reality of the situation without any confirmation from her. "I'll take that as a yes," he says gruffly, stalking towards her.
"You told me to stay where I was," she points out in a way that's not unlike how a child - how House himself - tries to bend the rules to avoid punishment.
At first House doesn't say anything in response; he just keeps moving closer to her until he's towering over her.
Viciously his fingers close around the little neck tie she's still wearing, and he yanks on it hard, as though it's a leash for him to drag her by. She grunts from the force and in surprise at the move. "Change of plans," he says, brushing her off as though what she's saying is stupid. "Now get up."
Once more, he tugs on the pink plaid tie - jerks it so hard that the square of Velcro keeping the tie around her neck breaks apart. The sound of the Velcro being pulled apart fiber by fiber fills the room, the rough material scratching the back of Cuddy's neck as it comes apart in House's hand.
She thinks if she had a free hand, she would rub the bit of now irritated skin. But since she's still bound, all she can do is watch House, almost heartbroken, look down at the tie clutched in his grasp. It's obvious in the way he frowns that he was really hoping he could drag her to the bathroom literally by the collar.
That he can't is something that makes Cuddy vindictively pleased. As much as she's not even all that annoyed with him, it's become habit - again, thanks to him - to take some amusement when things don't go exactly the way he wants them to.
Tossing the tie to the floor, he whines, "What the hell?"
"It's not a leash," she explains dryly.
"Shut up."
And she does. The scowl he's offering alone is all the reaction she needs from him.
Continue on to the next part