Archive of Our Own

"What do you want for you birthday, princess?" House asked over the rim of his glass.

Cameron was so surprised by the question, she had to stare at him for a solid two minutes before she could even think of an answer. Even then, she wasn't sure she should tell him what she really wanted. She knew she'd never get it.

"That mean you don't want anything?" he asked.

"No. It's just, you've never gotten me something for my birthday." Hell, her birthday was four days away and he was asking, she'd thought about checking him for fever.

He turned to look at her. "So, now's your big chance."

Cameron bit her lip and folded her legs up on the couch. "You won't like it," she warned.

"Doesn't matter," he countered.

"Okay," she took a breath and tried to settle her nerves. It wasn't that wanting what she did made her ashamed; it was that asking House for it made her nervous. He told her it didn't matter, so here went nothing, right? "I want a gang bang," she said barely above a whisper.

"What?" he asked.

She knew he'd heard her. Did he just want her to repeat herself? Or was he making sure he had heard her correctly.

He answered the unspoken question from her. "If you can't say it loud enough for Connor to hear you over the TV, you can't ask for it"

The dog needed to know what she was asking for? Another deep breath, then she repeated herself, voice barely above normal volume: "I want to be gangbanged."

"You're right," he said, sipping his drink, "I don't like it."

"Does that mean you're not going to do it?" she asked, trying not to sound too disappointed.

He shrugged lightly, giving her little to go on. "Don't know. Got four days to think about it. I'll let you know."

That was better than she had expected his reaction to be. The fact that he had asked her at all was surprising. The fact that he was even considering her request was more than she could have hoped for.

She spent the next four days, thinking about it. Fantasizing about it. Who she would pick to do it. How it would feel to be taken by four or five or six men. How House would react. That was the biggest unknown. She knew how she would react. She'd done it before and she had enjoyed having a group of men at one time. What she didn't know was how House would react to seeing her being taken by a group of guys. His reaction could range from disgust that caused him to not want to touch her again, to absolutely animalistic possessive lust. She was hoping for the latter.

Every time she tried to bring it up with him, he would change the subject or ignore her. So she spent four days in a whirlwind of fantasy thought. Sometimes it made her so dizzy she had to sit down for a while. Other times it got her so excited she needed to find a way to get herself off. House seemed to like those times, when he was around to be played with.

On her birthday, she got up like normal, showered and dressed. It wasn't until she was on her way out the door that House stopped her. He whispered in her ear, with his hands cupping her breasts, that she should expect to come home to company.

As much as she tried not to get her hopes up over the prospect of a potential birthday present from House, she couldn't help feeling a little excitement. His idea of company could mean Wilson or it could mean his 'poker night'. Either of those could have great birthday potential.

Who was she kidding? She was wet all day fantasizing about what might happen when she got home. She imagined four men waiting behind the apartment door. Them pulling her through the door, touching her, stripping her clothes off to get to her naked skin. As they strip her panties off, she catches sight of House watching. She has a hard time determining his reaction. She lifts her eyes to communicate to him that he can stop this if he is uncomfortable.

Her phone chirped and she answered it with a high-pitched "Hello?" around a bite of her lunch.

"What are you thinking about, princess?" his deep voice rumbled in her ear and brought her attention front and center like it always did.

She swallowed the bite of food. "Four guys doing me at once while you sit by, watching and stroking yourself because it makes you hot."

"What makes me hot?"

"Watching me live out my fantasies knowing that it turns me on."

The other end of the line was silent for a long time. Cameron began to wonder if the phone had died. She pulled the handset away from her ear to check. No. The call was still connected.

"House?" she spoke nervously into the phone.

It was quiet again, then, "Forget the four guys..."

"What?"

"I want this to be just us."

She knew he didn't like to share, but this was different. He sounded different. "I – I don't understand."

"Come home."

"What? Now? I can't. House..." she took a quick deep breath. "House, what's going on?" He was scaring her. On her birthday. That hardly seemed fair. "House..." she was getting impatient.

"I want you all to myself."

That soothed her nerves a little – at least he wasn't dumping her on her birthday. "So. No present?" No matter how accustomed to the idea of House being anti-gift she was, it still hurt a little that he never gave her anything.

"That's not what I said."

"I've gotta go. E.R.'s busy. I might be late," she told him and disconnected the call. The phone rang again. She shoved it into the desk drawer. Elbow on the desk, she folded her hand across the back of her neck. She'd go back to work in a minute.

A knock, followed by, "Dr Cameron?"

She wiped a hand beneath her eyes, discreetly tried to hide the tears. "Yes, Eileen?" she replied without looking to the door.

"Um. I just got word that you're relieved for the evening and are free to go. But, uh, are you okay?" the young woman asked with concern.

"I'm fine, Eileen, thanks." She pressed her hands against her temples. "Wait," now she did lift her head, "Relieved?"

Eileen nodded. "There was a note from Dr. Cuddy. Dr. Westminster is taking the E.R. tonight. You can go."

"Thanks, Eileen," she said. The young woman left her office and she was still confused. What had House done now?

She took a long, slow walk to the locker loom to shower and change. Her shower took nearly an hour. Obviously she wasn't interested in getting home any time soon.

"Jesus Christ!" she cried as she stepped out of the shower and into House's chest. She gripped the towel tight around her torso.

"I told you to come home," he growled.

She stared up at him, her face hard, "I didn't want to." She turned away and started for her locker. A firm hand gripped her arm to stop her. "Let go of me," she snarled.

He released his hold on her arm and slumped onto the bench. "What's wrong?"

"I'm tired and naked. And I need you to leave."

"That's not it. You're angry." He paused. "At me."

Arms crossed over her middle, she faced him with angry eyes. "Yes," she told him. "The one time you remember my birthday you make sure I won't forget it. But not in a good way." She shook her head. "All because you couldn't pull your head out of your ass long enough to try something new!" That was just making her angrier. She needed to get out of this locker room.

He sat calmly while she spoke. "If you hadn't hung up on me, I would have told you that I had planned your guy-guy-guy-guy-girl party. And that I had gone as far as finding people to do it." He rocked his cane between his palms "But I decided I'd rather do something else. I wanted to know if the idea itself was enough to get you off. I knew it turned you on, but I wanted to know if there was more.

"That's why I called you. That's why I arranged for you to have the night off. I didn't dismantle your birthday. I just changed the plans."

She grumbled, then snapped, "You have to stop with the games." That was followed with a heavy sigh. So far, not the best birthday on record.

"I thought you liked my games," he said with a smirk.

"Not the ones that fuck with my head." Then she added, "And not - I repeat - not on my birthday." It wasn't his annoying head games that had upset her, but that he was fucking with her birthday. She hadn't had all that many pleasant ones, so she had really been looking forward to something fun when he'd brought it up, only to be crushed again when he ditched his original plans.

The next thing he did nearly had her dropping her towel. He apologized. "I'm sorry. You're right. But only about fucking with your head on your birthday."

She wasn't impressed.

He looked at the floor. Stared at it. "I did make plans," he said.

"What plans?" She was trying hard not to crack. Not to cry.

"Come home and see," he told her and rose from the bench, then limped past her and into the hallway.

Cameron watched him leave. What the hell was he up to.

When she pulled up to the curb outside the apartment she had to work to get her car parked between a Volvo and House's bike. He never managed to park within the parking lines.

She wasn't sure what to expect when she got inside, but she collected her bag and walked to the door. Her fingers trembled a little when she lifted the keys to unlock the door. That was enough to have her considering going back to her car. She wanted today to be over now.

House knew she was home. She knew he did. Which meant her stalling was accomplishing nothing. Steeling herself for the worst, she unlocked and opened the door.

She was met with mostly darkness and a note on the table where she kept her keys. The note instructed her to put her things down and come to the bedroom. Being dumped might almost be easier than this.

With a soft sigh, she dropped her bag at the door and draped her coat over a chair, then headed toward the bedroom as requested. She pushed the door open, to find an empty bed with another note. That wasn't helping her nerves any.

Cameron opened the note – 'Turn around' – then, without thinking, she did as instructed. House was sitting in a chair, dressed in a suit – no tie. That was confusing. "I thought this was my birthday, not my funeral."

"Get dressed. We're going out," he said. "No panties," he added.

"I don't want to go out, House. I'm tired," she sighed

His face was stern, firm, but not hard. "Princess, we're going out."

That tone was enough to get her moving. She slipped out of her clothes, felt his eyes watching her through every movement. Standing naked in the middle of the room, she wanted to curl up in the bed and sleep, not go out on the town. Not even for her birthday.

"Where we are going, Master?" she asked softly, almost a mutter. She still wasn't all too keen on going out, but would go with him because he told her she would. If nothing else, she could follow orders.

"Someplace nice. Wear the red dress. The short one with the spaghetti straps," he told her, still sitting in the chair.

The red dress. Was she supposed to wear red or black shoes? Undergarments had already been decided – he had told her 'no panties' and she wouldn't wear a bra with that particular dress. The only other question was stockings.

She rolled a pair of opaque black stockings up her legs, stretching them to the middle of her thighs. House hadn't told her to stop, so she left them, then slid the dress over her head. Unless she was hallucinating, House had groaned in a combination of arousal and disappointment.

All but finished, she stepped into the bathroom to apply her make-up. A word from House stopped her. She poked her head back into the bedroom. "I'm sorry?"

"No make-up tonight. No perfume. No extras. Just you and that dress," he explained.

"Okay." That was a little disconcerting. She wasn't used to going out without make-up. She styled her hair, slipped into her shoes, then presented herself for inspection.

Obviously she met with his approval, since he rose from his chair and led her out to the car – a sleek black town car with an expensive leather interior. House was quiet for the entire drive. And when they arrived at the restaurant, he opened the door for her and helped her out of the car. He was making her nervous again.

When they entered the restaurant, they were led to their table. House didn't let her sit though. He told her to come to his side of the table and sit on his lap. Her eyes shifted around the room to see if people were watching her.

House curled his fingers gently around her wrist, tugged her toward his knees and said, "Don't worry about everyone else, princess. Sit."

She took a moment to coordinate herself, but perched herself on his thighs. Sitting on his lap, rather than a chair, still made her nervous. His hands settled on her waist, his chin on her shoulder. Her nerves didn't settle any, but she appreciated the closeness.

"Keep your eyes open," his warm voice rumbled in her ear. "See the man at the table in the corner?" he asked.

Cameron nodded.

"He's part of your fantasy gangbang. He's first. He's stroking his fingers up your legs." He tipped his head toward the door to the kitchen. "The busboy who just came out, blond, he's standing behind you, hands at your waist, lips on your neck." His hips shifted beneath her. "Two tables to the right, black man, he's fondling your breasts through your dress. And the waiter who just filled your glass, he's licking the other side of your neck."

Cameron was having a very difficult time doing two things – staying still and keeping quiet. House's descriptions were very preliminary, but he had just put the image of four men tending to her in her head. The idea itself made her hot.

"Where are you?" she asked.

"Sidelines," he told her. "Watching."

She figured House could probably handle an imaginary gangbang much better than a real one. For her, it wasn't quite the same, but it was enough that he was trying.

He spent the next forty minutes or so describing a fantasy to her. What each of the men would do to her, how they would tag in to have a chance fucking her – fast or slow – and making her come. How he would give her silent cues on what he wanted to see her do when sucking cock. He gave her a fairly intricate play-by-play of her fantasy evening with four men tending to her.

Maybe it had been an hour and forty minutes. She lost all track of time - hell she lost track of the restaurant while House was whispering in her ear. His hands were still demurely rested on her hips, but she was sure he knew how aroused she was. She's pretty sure he felt her hips rolling against his lap.

"Are you wet for me, princess?" he asked with his mouth on her ear.

She nodded, at first unable to actually form words, then, "Yes, Master," she hissed. "I am very wet for you."

"How wet?" he prompted.

"Wet enough to fuck you right here," she rumbled back.

He kissed her neck. "Good, go sit in your chair and have dinner with me."

She wasn't sure she could move that far. House nudged her hip to get her started and she finally managed to get to her feet and around the table. She sat in her chair and immediately reached for her water glass. House had done a damned fine job weaving that fantasy for her.

Dinner didn't take long; apparently House had made a lot more arrangements than she'd thought; and they were exiting the restaurant through a field of half-hidden smiles and knowing glances. Cameron was at the point where she was unconcerned about what anyone thought of her except House.

In the car, she didn't wait for an invitation. She climbed into his lap, unfastened his pants and slid herself into place on his cock. The presence of the driver didn't affect her at all. She fucked House as enthusiastically as she had at Christmas. If her slightly addled brain was picking up on the reactions correctly, House was enjoying the attention.

House opened the door and ushered her inside with a hand motion and a stern look. "Have a seat on the piano bench," he instructed.

Head down, Cameron slinked to her prescribed seat. From his tone, she knew she was in trouble. Her hope was that it was the 'good' kind of trouble.

He approached her, his jacket gone from his shoulders, draped over the back of the couch. He loomed over her, menacing and dominant. It was perfect.

"You were very good tonight, princess," he praised her and she smiled warmly up at him. "And then you were very very bad," he chastised and she lowered her eyes and lost her smile. "What do you think that means, princess?" he asked, leaning gingerly on his cane.

Cameron swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. "It means you're going to punish me, Master," she answered.

"Yes, princess, it does." House took a deep, full breath and scratched his chin in mock thought. "Hmm. What punishment should I exact on you this time?"

She bit her lip. "Spanking? Sucking you off until you want to come? Riding you hard and fast all night?"

House wrinkled his nose. "Nah, but I might have an idea." He nodded to her. "Strip out of your dress, leave the stockings and the shoes, then kneel by the piano."

With precise movements, she did exactly as she was instructed. House then bound her hands and strapped the butterfly vibrator to her thighs. He asked if a gag was necessary and she shook her head that it wasn't.

She heard a soft click, followed by a whir and the sudden vibration between her legs. She squeaked as her body jumped. "I'm sorry, M-master. I should have asked permission."

The sensation between her legs increased with a shift of House's thumb. "Oh, that's not why you're being punished. Though jumping me in the car gave the driver a bit of a shock."

Cameron blushed crimson. She had been so keyed up, she hadn't given any thought to what she was doing. All she knew, at the time, was how damned good it felt.

What she couldn't figure though, was what she was being punished for tonight. What had she done?

House arched a salt-and-pepper eyebrow at her. As he took a seat at the piano. "You're going to sit there until you figure out why you are being punished." He set his hands to the keys, ready to play. "And if you come before I give you permission, you will be punished more. Do you understand?"

Cameron nodded. Then eked out a "Yes, Master."

With no response, House began to play. Cameron knew he would continue to play until she figured out her error. The music was beautiful. The vibrations on her clit were strong but steady. Though both made it hard for her to concentrate on her task.

Having completed the long, complicated piece, House glanced down at her. "Do you know why I'm punishing you?"

"No, Master," Cameron replied, voice trembling. She shuddered and moaned when House nudged the speed up on the butterfly. She took a deep breath and groaned to keep her focus. "I'm sorry, Master, I don't know what I did." Her body shivered as she tried to stifle an orgasm.

"That's the problem, princess."

She was confused. 'Perplexed for a long moment while she worked to focus her mind. Problem. Problem, 'That's the problem' he'd said. Using House's logic, it took her a moment... then it hit her.

Another deep breath over the beginnings of an orgasm, then she said, "Master, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't say 'thank you' for my birthday present. I liked it a lot. Thank you, Master."

House nodded. "Good girl. You're welcome. I assume you'd like to come now?"

Cameron nodded gently. "Yes, Master. Very much."

House nodded toward the bedroom, as he levered himself up from the bench. He reached down to help her to her feet. Once she was up, he led her down the hall. "Let's see what we can do about that."