posted to house_wilson

Title: sub
Author: Dee Laundry
Pairing: several/Wilson (incl. House/Wilson)
Rating: NC-17 - Dom/sub play, bondage, multiple partners
Words: 1434
Summary: Wilson answers the call to obey.
Note: This is a crazy, crazy thing that my brain has wanted me to write for months. oxoniensis's Porn Battle V, prompt "obey," gave me the perfect excuse to just dash it off, except what I wrote was almost twice as long as allowed. Huge thanks to bironic for helping me whittle a shorter version for that battle, and for pointing out naming and condom problems in the original.
Additional Note: This is a work of pure fantasy. It is not in any way intended as a representation of actual real-life Dom/sub relationships.

The hallway was strangely empty, but Wilson wasn’t paying much attention as he walked to the Diagnostics conference room, head dipped toward a file.

Pulling the door open absently, he asked, “You want me to consult on this patient?”

“No,” Foreman replied, and Wilson looked up for the first time. “We want you to obey.”

Immaculately dressed, serious, strong – Foreman was the same as always, but Wilson felt his heart begin to race. Cameron and Chase were standing to either side, and as Wilson looked into their eyes in turn, he saw the same sense of authority, patience, expectation.

He dropped the file on the table and lowered his gaze to the ground. “Sirs.”

They moved in sync – such a great team – Cameron closing the blinds, Chase retrieving the box under the desk, and Foreman moving directly to sub’s side.

He was sub now, just sub, having answered the call to obey. Sirs would tell him what to do, what to think, how to feel. And then, if he was good, then –

He started sinking to his knees with the exhilaration of it all, but Sir-Strong caught him. “Stand. You were given a command this morning. Did you follow it?”

“Yes, Sir,” he replied promptly. He loved being good, loved pleasing.

Sirs regarded him for a long moment, skepticism in every eye. “I’ll check,” Sir-Strong said, and sub squirmed. Sir was going to check, and sub had followed the command, but had he done it right? Perfectly?

They pushed him down onto the glass table, arms outstretched, files and papers and pencils under his chest, face, hands. His face must have given away his anxiety because as Sir-She hauled him into position and lowered his pants, Sir-Light petted his hair roughly. “Shh,” Sir said, “Foreman will check and then we’ll know.”

The examination was slow, Sir-Strong’s hands pushing up his lab coat, stroking his thighs, pulling his ass cheeks apart, and minutely probing, and sub’s heart pounded every moment. It had to be perfect, he had to please, or all would be ruined.

“Exactly as ordered,” Sir-Strong said, and the relief was almost like an orgasm. “Good job,” all the Sirs said, and he struggled to keep still in his joy. Sir-She brought her hand to sub’s mouth so he could lick at the exquisite fingers as reward.

They were good to him, Sirs were.

Sir-Strong caressed sub’s ass, fingers teasing at the plug. “You’ve worn this the whole day?”

“Yes, Sir,” sub replied between licks.

“To be ready for ass-fucking at any time?” Sir-She asked, amused. She liked to test him with ever-larger dildos; sub loved passing her tests.

“Yes, Sir,” he replied.

Sir-She tilted his head until he could see Sir-Light unpacking the box. Cords and webbing. They were pleased with sub today. “Foreman first,” Sir-She said. “Then Chase will bind you and take you, and then it’s my turn.”

Sir-She tilted his head back in her direction. Her eyes were very blue; her lashes long and pretty. “The rule today is that you cannot come.”

He whined in disappointment, then gasped as Sir-Strong’s hand smacked his ass hard. “Maybe sub should pull up his pants and go home if he’s going to complain.”

“No, Sir, please,” he begged. “Sirs, please, I’ll be good.”

“No more of your lip then,” Sir-Strong said, and the plug was gone. sub was open, cold, and he gasped, but then Sir was in him, filling him, pounding him. Sir liked it hard and fast, liked to make sub’s body scrape across the table and knock things askew.

He was hanging on, hard as hell but being good, when Sir grunted and shoved sub’s hips hard against the table. Sir pulled out, his regard and pleasure dribbling down sub’s leg. sub sighed happily.

Then a strong hand was grabbing the collar of his coat. Sir-Light yanked him up, turned him, and put him where he belonged: on his knees, face planted in the carpet, ass in the air. They twisted his arms, folded forearm against forearm, and bound him.

The cords felt like a heavy blanket in winter. Snug, warm, safe.

Sir-Light pulled sub’s ass cheeks apart and blew onto his asshole, sending shivers through him. “Love it when your hole’s like a cunt: wet and waiting for me.”

He tried to nod but Sir’s first thrust bent his neck to an immobile angle. There was nothing he could do but take it and be a loving hole for Sir. Sir filled him up with words, too, told him how to feel and think. Sir took care of everything, and sub was so happy to be Sir’s slut. It was difficult to follow the rule in the midst of so much bliss but sub managed.

When Sir ground him one last time into the carpet and shuddered, the others freed sub’s arms. “I think he’s ready for you, Cameron,” Sir-Light said, pinching sub’s ass in appreciation.

“Oh, he’d better be,” Sir-She replied. sub let himself be rolled over and smiled up at her. Sir-She liked to look, to see sub’s face as she played with him. He lifted his hips for the bolster she normally placed there, but she pushed him back down.

“Tell me the rule,” she demanded.

“Don’t come,” he replied, confused, and then drew in a sharp breath as she rolled a condom on him. Then she mounted him, and he almost screamed. They’d never touched his erection when this rule was in place, and now it was enveloped, clenched.

Oh God. Oh God. He wanted to be good; he did; but this was so much control to demand of him. He found himself whimpering and whining, as Sir-She rose up and sank back down again and again, using his dick. He wanted to last, for Sir’s pleasure, but the heat and pleasure and slick was killing him.

He breathed; he panted; but his balls started to draw up, and he wanted to cry. Sir was happy, getting close, he thought, but if he broke the rule he wouldn’t get Master and his heart would break.

“Enough,” Master said from behind sub, and Sir-She immediately lifted up and off. Sir-Light’s right arm clasped her waist, and left hand dove between her legs, rubbing and thrusting, and she came, beautiful and wild.

Master’s cane nudged sub’s hip. “Ask your question.”

Master always knew when sub wanted something. It was humbling, the way Master cared. “Were you watching?” sub asked meekly.

“Of course,” Master replied. “You were good.” And sub had to close his eyes before joy overwhelmed him. He heard Master retreating to his office.

“Bring him to me,” Master ordered. Sir-Strong rolled the condom off sub, pulled him from the floor, and helped him shuffle over to Master’s recliner. The gabardine work pants were like shackles on sub’s ankles. Sexy.

sub hadn’t come; sub had been good, sub had pleased Sirs.

“You left the plug out when Cameron rode you,” Master noted, and sub hung his head in shame.

“It’s OK,” Master said generously, gesturing for Sir-Strong to turn sub around and position him correctly. “Just, this might hurt a little now.”

sub was shoved suddenly onto Master’s cock, and it did burn, and sub almost lost himself there. Master wanted him, wanted him too much to wait.

“Good,” Master groaned; sub was shaking with the need to release. He moved though, slid up and down, pumping Master, so Master wouldn’t have to thrust.

Sir-Strong watched Master use him until Master ordered, “Go. All of you,” and then they were alone. Master and sub. He was holding to the rule, but it was so hard (he was so hard) when Master was here.

“Time,” Master said, one hand sliding back and forth across sub’s chest as sub moved.

“Master first,” sub dared to say.

Master groaned. “I love the clench and tremble of your orgasm when I’m buried in you. Come. Now.”

He did, shaking, shuddering, moaning, spurting into the air and then spilling over his hand, pulse after pulse, and while the aftershocks were still rolling through him, House came.

He blew out a big breath. “Lord.”

“I thought it was Master,” House said, a smirk in his voice and lips on Wilson’s shoulder blades. “Good?”

“Great.” Wilson felt drained of every ounce of energy – and every ounce of stress – but he managed to pull himself up and take a seat on the ottoman. “Next time Cameron should have me eat her out.”

“I don’t think Chase’d like that.”

Wilson scoffed and leaned forward for a kiss. “It’s not Chase’s game, is it?”

~the end~