Part 1: Asking For Joint Custody
Whenever Wilson had a girlfriend, his time spent with House went down, but there were some things he always made time for. House had stolen Wilson's fries at lunchtime and barged in on Wilson with a patient in the afternoon. Wilson should make time for this.
"Of Wilson?" Amber said.
"Unless we have another love child?"
Amber glanced at Wilson. "Deal with him."
There was nothing House wanted more. Wilson was sitting at the table, looking down at his newspaper. He didn't look up, but one hand began to beat a rhythm on the table, sure sign to House's eyes that Wilson was thinking of beating House.
House put on a shit-eating grin. "He needs a mother figure. I'm not saying you're not entitled to spend time with him, I'm just saying I'm entitled too."
Wilson looked up from the paper, his hand still at last. "House, do you really want joint custody?"
"That's what I just said." House could not put enough appeal into his voice, not with Amber watching. But he wanted Wilson to know he needed this. Needed Wilson, and needed the discipline Wilson brought into his life.
"This is crazy," Amber announced. "You're not a child, you can make your own plans."
"I am making plans," Wilson said, calm and stern, and House shivered. Amber looked at him as if she'd never heard that voice before. "This isn't crazy. Crazy is what House would normally do in this situation... Swap your lubricant with superglue."
"The man knows me," House said. His throat was actually getting tighter with excitement.
"This is his way of accepting us," Wilson said.
"It's actually a very touching moment," House said. He could see from the look in Wilson's eyes that the oncologist was longing to get him over his knee for a whipping. "I'm proposing I get every other day and every other weekend."
"I have yoga Wednesday's - " Amber said, but Wilson interrupted.
"House doesn't get to propose anything, Amber."
"James?" Amber said, startled.
"House asked for joint custody. If you're willing, that's what he'll get."
"What?" House said. He felt a feeling almost like dread stirring in the bottom of his belly. This wasn't what he'd planned.
"House has a safe word, Amber," Wilson said. "If he objects to what I'm about to propose, he'll use it. But unless you want to safeword, House, you should sit down on that chair, not move, and not speak until either of us tells you to."
House swallowed. Wilson was staring at Amber, and Amber was staring at him.
"You two are like dogs circling each other in the park," Wilson said. He hadn't taken his eyes off Amber. "And I say that with all the love in the world. You think you need to sniff each other's butts, bare your teeth, and arrive at some strange detente. Otherwise, you'll end up biting each other's eyes out. But I think it's simpler than that. House asked for joint custody, and if that's what he wants, we should give it to him."
"I don't understand," Amber said, but her face said she did.
House sat down. He didn't say anything. He didn't object, exactly, but he didn't know if Amber was going to agree to it. Or how it would work if she did.
"We don't talk about this outside House's apartment. Or mine. I punish House. If he wants joint custody, if he accepts our relationship, that gives you the right to punish him, too."
House stood up, suddenly: Wilson's eyes were on him. "Safeword, House, " he said.
House looked at Amber, standing beside Wilson with curiosity written all over her face. He saw in her face that she would agree to this, at least once: he saw in Wilson's that either he agreed to that, or he gave up on Wilson's discipline, at least until Amber became the next Mrs Ex-Wilson. He didn't use the safe word. He sat down. He saw Wilson nod, and Amber's eyes light up.
"We'll talk more about how this is going to work, later," Wilson said to Amber. "House needs to be punished. I think you should just watch this time." He leaned over and took both her hands and said something to her quietly.
"Stand up and bend over the table," Wilson said.
House stood up. Amber was looking at him. Wilson rubbed the back of his neck. "Bend over the table," he said.
An ordinary demand. Wilson would have him bent and bare-assed and waiting for punishment.
Amber was looking at him. House swallowed. The safe word was on the tip of his tongue. But if he said it, even if he said it, Amber already knew. Amber knew he needed Wilson to punish him. Amber knew he was Wilson's.
Amber knew he belonged to Wilson, because Wilson had the right to share him with Amber. If he used the safe word, he didn't really belong to Wilson, and Amber would know that, too.
"I'm all yours," House said, trying to speak with bravado, and turned round and leaned his elbows on the table, bending down, sticking his ass out, waiting for punishment.
Wilson came over and slapped his butt. House ducked his head and whined.
"You were told not to speak," Wilson said.
Amber was leaving the room. House heard her. The door didn't close.
"We're going to your apartment," Wilson said. "I'm going to show Amber what I can do to you. Everything I can do to you. If you're a good boy, we'll talk it over - she and I. If Amber wants joint custody of you, I'll let her have it. She'll get a key to your apartment, like I have. She'll have the same right to punish you when you misbehave. Joint custody, House. It's what you asked for. It's what you need."
He bent closer, putting his hand on House's butt, not smacking, not caressing, just a solid claim. "It's what you asked for, House. Isn't it?"
House was silent. Wilson lifted his hand.
"Yes," House squealed.
"Good boy," Wilson said, and brought his hand down again, smacking House's butt. "Let's get you out of these. Amber won't touch you tonight, but she'll get to see you. All of you."
He stripped House of his pants and undershorts, and House heard Amber coming back: Amber walked in on him bare-ass naked, his clothing pooled round his ankles.
"Watch how to do this," Wilson said. Amber came closer: House heard or felt her crouching down on the floor beside Wilson. His scar. She could see his scar. House tensed up. "House," Wilson said sharply. "All your weight on the table." Wilson took hold of House's left calf. "His right leg can bear almost no weight," Wilson said. "So make sure his weight is distributed elsewhere before you do this - " He picked up House's left foot, unlaced his shoe, and tugged off his sock, quickly setting House's bare foot back on the kitchen floor. He did the same for House's right foot, with his usual care for House's leg.
Amber and Wilson stood up. House could hear Amber packing his clothes in a carrier bag. Wilson bent over him again. His hand touched House's butt, parting his cheeks. "Lubricant," Wilson said. "Not superglue." The cold blunt touch of a dildo pressed against House's asshole as he heard Amber laugh.
"This isn't big enough for you," Wilson said, his voice intimate. "It's a toy Amber plays with. Her toy, inside my toy. That's what I want you to think about, House." He pressed the dildo inside. House let out a choked gasp. Wilson had used bigger dildos and butt plugs on him, but ... her toy, inside my toy. He was being used by Amber's dildo, fucked by Wilson's hand. He felt unfinished; the dildo was easy to take, a hard rod inside him, not very thick, not very long. He pushed his ass up against Wilson's hand, trying to get more of it inside him.
"Careful," Amber said, sounding alarmed. "It's not made for anal sex - "
"House, I want you to keep that dildo inside you just like that," Wilson said. "Clench your muscles on it. It's not going any further in, no matter how you squirm. Can I - Oh, thank you. House can take quite a lot, you'll find - but I'll just warm him up for now."
House bent his head. Wilson had paddled him with a wooden spoon before, when he had been a nuisance while Wilson was cooking. He had been over Wilson's knee, clutching at Wilson's leg, gasping and sobbing by the time Wilson was done.
Smack! The wooden spoon hit him. And again. Small hard smacks of pain.
He hated being punished like this. Bent over a table, not able to relax into it, and with - Oh god, Amber. Cut-throat bitch was standing next to Wilson, watching. Wilson was talking to her, not to House. He sounded affectionate. Kindly.
"We could buy some new items just for you. You might like a cane. You can cause a lot of pain with a length of rattan, and it leaves some lovely marks. If I cane House, he feels it for several days. A paddle brings up red on the skin, like this, look - " the spoon hit hard, on the upper part of his left thigh " - but a good paddle doesn't even leave bruises. I can paddle House till he cries, and he won't have a bruise the next day. I think he'll be bruised from this." Wilson was beating him hard now, smacking down on his butt. House whimpered involuntarily, shivering, feeling the dildo shift inside him.
Wilson stopped. He touched the dildo, not gently, tapping on it with his hand. "See how he squirms? That toy isn't deep enough to touch his prostate. It's pure anticipation." Wilson smacked his ass, left and right, very hard, and House squirmed, an involuntary wriggle that made the dildo wag inside and out, a feeling almost like getting fucked, and Wilson hit him again with the spoon, right, left.
"He's really getting into it," Amber said. She sounded interested. "Every time he wriggles like that, the dildo moves, and I can actually see him getting harder."
"Spread your legs wider, House," Wilson said. "Give us both a better view."
"Can't - " House whimpered. He swallowed tears. "Can't - " He moved his legs closer together, sheltering his cock and balls. "Please, Wilson - "
Wilson tangled his fingers into House's hair and jerked his head up. "You weren't told to speak," he said. "Amber, get me his belt." He pulled the dildo out, and House whimpered again to feel it go.
What went into House's asshole was longer, harder, thinner - not the right shape -
"That was my wooden spoon," Amber said. "I can clean the dildo, but - "
"I'll buy you another," Wilson said. "This is about teaching House a lesson. He can spread his legs wider than that, and he shouldn't have spoken. He can safeword. He can't talk unless we ask him a question. I'm going to whip him now till he spreads his legs as wide as he can and gives us a good show with that spoon up his ass. We should be able to see his dick getting hard and the spoon waggling about as he squirms for us. I'll stop when he starts crying."
"Crying?" Amber really sounded interested. "That, I'd like to see."
"You will," Wilson said briskly. "He's nearly there now. House. Spread your legs, wide as you can, and give us both a little show."
The belt hurt. Hard stripes across House's tender ass. House was whimpering. He was trying to focus on getting his legs apart, when they wanted to cling together, to shelter his hard-on from Amber's eyes, and he was trying to move his ass, to please Wilson: he could feel the spoon moving, not in a good way, as if the handle was stirring inside his ass. He squirmed, and lifted his butt to meet Wilson's belt, and moved his right leg slowly to the right, and he was trying to do it right and Amber was watching - he was trying to please Wilson, and Amber was watching -
Joint custody. He belonged to Wilson. Wilson proved his ownership by letting Amber have him. He was Wilson's, Wilson's, Wilson's.
He was sobbing, "Wilson," into the table when Wilson finally stopped. He couldn't stop sobbing, helpless and so turned on he didn't think he could stand, just a toy Wilson was showing Amber how to play with, belly down on the table with his face next to dirty plates smelling of their food. He went on sobbing, his whole body shaking with it, when Wilson tugged him up from the table, and gave him a carrier bag full of stuff to hold, and wrapped his own belt round his neck like a collar. He went on sobbing, jelly-like quivering blubber, when Wilson wrapped him in a blanket. The spoon was still up his ass. Wilson guided him into the trunk of Wilson's car, and made him lie down with his legs curled up, still bare ass naked with a wooden spoon up his butt and his own belt collaring him. He was aware of Amber watching. He was aware of Amber smiling. She was pleased. Wilson would be glad she was pleased. He sobbed and mouthed Wilson's hand as Wilson tucked the carrier bag in to cushion his head.
"Want to say something, House?"
"Please," House said, and kissed Wilson's hand again, licking his skin. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," Wilson said, and let House lick his palm and then his knuckles. "Good boy."
"Please. Can I thank Amber?"
Wilson pushed his fingers briefly into House's mouth. "Not yet," he said, and let him go, pulling the lid of the trunk down.
Part 2 follows soon! Back at House's apartment: what will Wilson do to House, with Amber watching? Remember this is their screwed-up, messed-up, verging-on-noncon, semi-abusive, seriously don't try this at home, relationship...