Work Text:
Before:
It's early morning when Lisa calls Remy to her office. Remy rolls her eyes at Taub, leaves her coffee ignored on the table and goes to answer the summons.
Lisa is behind her desk with the phone cradled on her shoulder. She cups a hand over the receiver. "I'm having a visitor tomorrow night. I expect you to be there." Lisa's professional face is only a little different from her recreational one: she is composed and calm whether she's topping Remy or ordering doctors to comply with hospital regulations. It takes Remy a moment to realise that they're talking about sex, not medicine.
"You mean you want me there, socially?" This is a new twist, and not one that Remy is entirely comfortable with. Their relationship has been entirely needs-based: when Remy needs to be used, Lisa obliges. It's been working well; why would Lisa want to mess with that?
"I mean I want you there as the entertainment." Lisa removes her hand from the phone and goes on with her previous conversation.
Remy watches her talk about supply contracts for a few moments. Lisa conducts the discussion with her eyes on Remy's body as if it were property, while Remy is wriggling with agitation. Normally she wouldn't be opposed to what Lisa is suggesting, but today is a bad day. Every time she breaks a test-tube or hands over a syringe for someone else with steadier hands to inject into an IV, the others try so hard to hide their pity that she could scream and punch them. The Sifrol is starting to help but it makes her queasy, and she's already maxed out her dose of domperidone. All in all, she's feeling lousy, which is why she lashes out with one hand and slaps the phone to the ground.
She regrets it immediately, and Lisa's expression of blank surprise adds to the sensation of misery. In their initial negotiation, Lisa had made it very clear that she didn't like attention-seeking behaviour. "I have a toddler, I don't have time for subs who throw tantrums," she had said, over a very civilised dinner date. "If you want me to beat you, ask for it."
Lisa stands and walks over to the door. Remy wraps her arms around herself; here's another thing she's messed up. Instead of ordering her out, though, Lisa reaches for the blinds. She plunges the room into shadow with a sharp twist of the rod, then unhooks it from the cord. Remy looks at the rod with sudden recognition; she's seen something similar hanging on the rack above Lisa's toy chest at home. It's a cane, complete with rubber grip. Remy stares, trying to remember if it has always been there – hanging from the blinds, it is a mundane object, beneath attention.
In Lisa's hands, it cuts through the air with a menacing swish. Lisa gestures to the desk with her chin, then throws the lock on the door.
For once, Remy doesn't fret about her hands as they fumble for the button on her pants. When they are pooled around her ankles, she rests her belly on the cool wood of the desk, and arches her back. From side to side, the desk is broad enough that she can reach out and grip the other edge with her hands. She's going to need something to brace herself.
Lisa slides her hand over Remy's buttocks thoughtfully, then slides the panties down, too. The air is cold on Remy's skin, and the room is very quiet; she can hear the tinny sound of the radio from the nurses' station outside. Lisa doesn't have to tell her how important it is that she keep her mouth shut. Remy screws up her eyes and waits for the burn.
There's a whistle, soft enough that for a moment Remy doesn't recognise the sound, then a stinging line of fire burns across her cheeks. Her legs kick out instinctively at the instant white hot pain, she arches and whines, but Lisa is there; pressing Remy's body back down on the desk. Remy whimpers and gasps, desperately wanting to let go of the desk and rub her ass, but she knows well enough that would only get her more licks.
Lisa traces the line with one fingernail – it's still a little numb at the impact point, but Remy can feel the heat of it starting to spread. She pushes her forehead against the wood; she had forgotten how much canes hurt. More than paddles, more than a flogger. She's starting to float a little inside her head, and it's such a damn relief.
"I haven't shown you how I like to do this." Lisa's voice is soft as she strokes the first welt. "Normally you would count these out, but there isn't time. I'm going to give you four more, and I don't want to hear a sound. Do you need a gag?"
Remy shakes her head. Her mouth is dry enough with the meds; a gag would make it worse. She'll figure it out as she goes. There's another whistle and she closes her eyes, tries to relax her muscles and accept the blow. She wishes she had time to find purchase against the edge of the desk; grinding her clit against something would make this a lot easier. The pain comes, but before the cycle of sting/burn/numb has completed, there's another, and another. The world shrinks, until there is just Remy, Lisa and the anticipation of pain.
Now there's silence, apart from Remy's heavy gasps and the rapid tattoo of one knee against the underside of the desk. How many was that? Is it over now? Remy tries to count, but the growing pulsing heat of her buttocks makes it impossible to concentrate. She is about to push herself upwards when there is another whistle. Remy falls flat against the desk, welcoming the last cutting bite into her flesh.
She is barely aware as Lisa stands her upright and dresses her again. It feels like every muscle in her body has gone soft as butter.
Lisa folds a Kleenex in half, uses it to blot Remy's eyeliner. It's the first gesture of sympathy and understanding that Remy is able to tolerate. "Better?"
Remy nods. For a moment, she leans against Lisa's body, then she straightens her back. "Thank you."
Lisa picks up the cane, and hangs it on the cord, then twists the blinds open again. "Next time, ask first."
Remy nods and leaves, confused and disarmed by the compassion in Lisa's face. This wasn't what she signed up for, but somehow it's not unwelcome, either. In the bathroom, she props the door closed and examines her ass: five lines stand out proud against her skin, hot and red like the bars on a radiator, all placed with extreme accuracy. They're going to bruise; right now her skin almost hums with tension as the welts grow and spread. She runs her finger over them, and pain flashes through her body. God, she's so turned on. She ducks into a stall and sits down, flinching as her ass touches the seat. She slips her hand into her panties and fingers herself eagerly, but stops after a moment. She's not currently under any restrictions on masturbation or orgasm, not outside of scening with Lisa, but this situation feels different, as though getting off now without permission would be cheating. Instead, she gets out her phone, fires off a text to Lisa.
Can I come?
Now, waiting for permission, it feels right to thrust fingers into her cunt. Remy braces one leg against the wall of the stall, props the phone against the paper holder and strums herself to almost to the brink of orgasm, pulling back again and again while she waits for an answer. Has she got the text yet? Is she in some meeting without her phone? Or is she looking at her phone now, and making Remy wait just because she can?
She's about to give up and finish when the phone buzzes against the metal of the paper holder. Remy snatches it up.
Yes.
There are a couple of enters in the message – Remy has to scroll down to read what is at the bottom. Her fingers are working her clit hard now, her breathing coming in short gasps as she grinds her ass against the seat.
Now.
Remy throws her head back and comes and comes, body arching forward as every muscle tenses. It lasts a long time. When it is over, she almost slides to the floor of the cubicle; it is only years of microbiology studies that keep her sitting upright. She tucks the phone away, cleans herself up and steps out of the cubicle. She is fixing her hair and straightening her clothes when her phone leaps to life in her pocket.
And no more until tomorrow night.
Remy grimaces. That's going to be frustrating. But probably worth it.
Back in House's office, the others look at her sympathetically.
"So," says Taub. "Are we all in big trouble, or is it just you?"
Remy sits gingerly on the chair and gives them all a wide and fearless grin. "Don't worry. I took one for the team."
During:
"Lisa, darling." Eleanor leaned over the banister and called down to the living room. "When I was in the bathroom, I couldn't help it, I peeked into your room. I hope you don't mind." She padded down the stairs with her pink pumps in hand. "I'm sorry, curiosity will be the death of me."
Lisa topped up both their glasses. "It's no problem, really."
"You do realize you have a girl tied to your bed." Eleanor took the proffered glass and curled up on the sofa with her feet tucked underneath her.
Lisa swirled the wine thoughtfully. "I would hope she's still tied up. It wouldn't make for much of a reunion if you'd driven all the way out here and she had gotten loose." She took a careful sip from her glass, let the wine slide over her tongue. "In fact, I would be pretty damn angry."
Eleanor shivered at Lisa's expression. "Bit unsafe, though, isn't it? I mean, she's up there. We're down here. You taught me better than to leave a sub restrained and unsupervised."
Lisa gestured towards a smooth and ergonomic white gadget on the table. "I've got the baby monitor on her. She's well trained by now, I don't have to use a gag. She'll call out if she's in trouble." She leaned a little closer to speak into the device. "She knows better than to use that privilege unless something's really wrong."
"That's a baby monitor?" Eleanor was disappointed. "I thought it must be some funky new vibrator. You always did have the best toys."
Lisa picked up her glass. "Come and meet my newest toy. You can call her Thirteen."
"Thirteen? Bit inauspicious, that name. I'm not sure I like it." Eleanor gave a diffident shrug, but it failed to conceal her eagerness.
Lisa smiled a cruel and delicious smile. "She'll make up for it, I promise."
---
On closer examination, Thirteen was beautiful; all bone structure and pale skin. Even though she was kneeling, naked, at the foot of Lisa's bed with her arms restrained to the iron railing, her eyes were cool and supercilious.
Eleanor traced one cut-glass cheekbone. "She's very lovely." She ran her finger across Thirteen's lips; they remained closed, but Thirteen looked as if she wanted to bite. "But are you sure she's tame?"
Lisa caught Thirteen's chin in a tight grip, and looked into her eyes. "Are we going to have a problem? Do I need to explain the situation again?"
Thirteen shuddered and shook her head the tiniest bit. Lisa reached out for Eleanor's hand and pressed it to Thirteen's lips, which parted obediently.
Eleanor slipped two fingers inside the girl's mouth, and felt a eager tongue go to work on them. "Oh, that is lovely. I'm going to enjoy playing with you." She removed her fingers, and replaced them with the rim of her wine glass. Thirteen took delicate mouthfuls of wine. When there was no more, she flicked the edge of the glass with her tongue and Eleanor laughed. "Maybe later, darling."
Lisa opened the toy chest and rocked back on her heels. "So, what shall we do to celebrate your return?"
Eleanor settled in the armchair, skirt all rucked up around her hips. "Do you still have that monster of a dildo? The black one? You know the one I mean."
A tiny noise escaped Thirteen's lips. Eleanor watched her shifting and moving on her knees, trying to rub her thighs together. Eleanor laughed in delight. "Yes, I see that you know the one I mean, too." She reached out one leg, let her stockinged toes toy with Thirteen's nipple. "It used to be my favorite as well."
Lisa's toy chest was full but well organized. She found the dildo with little trouble, and hoisted the accompanying harness. "I seem to recall you begging for this more than once." Her expression was nostalgic.
Thirteen was writhing slowly in her restraints, lips pressed together as if desperately holding back a moan. Eleanor leaned forward, almost out of her chair, so that she could whisper in the girl's ear. "Suck her cock while I watch. And if you're very good, I'll ask her to fuck you with it later."
Thirteen leaned forward in her restraints, close enough that she could press her open mouth to Eleanor's. She whispered softly into Eleanor's mouth. "You have no idea how good I'm going to be."
Once Lisa straps on the harness, a natural hierarchy evolves. Lisa lets Eleanor choose the clamps and put them on; she selects a pair of cruel-looking tweezers connected with a heavy chain. Thirteen really is very well trained, she barely hisses as Eleanor rolls each nipple between her fingers and slides the clamps on. Once they're on, though, Thirteen spreads her knees even further apart, and pushes her cunt as far out as she can, wordlessly begging Eleanor to dip her fingers in. Eleanor is tempted, but Lisa has other plans; she gently moves Eleanor aside and releases Thirteen's arms from the iron bed frame. Eleanor settles back into her armchair to watch.
She's very good, thinks Eleanor, with one hand inside her panties already. Thirteen has a way of making extremely dirty things look somehow demure. Right now, she has one hand curled around the base of the dildo, pushing it down against Lisa as she delicately works her mouth over the head. Skill like this hasn't come easily, though, from where she sits, Eleanor can see rows of pinkish purple bruises across Thirteen's ass. Eleanor breathes a little heavier; she'd recognise Lisa's hand on a cane anywhere: neat, accurate lines, evenly spaced. Even the bruising looks tidy and well placed, as if Lisa had somehow controlled the way Thirteen's body responded to the damage done by the cane.
Now Thirteen is working the body of the dildo into her mouth with long, slow strokes. She keeps her gaze obediently upward on Lisa's face as she services Lisa's rubber cock. Eleanor strokes herself a little faster; there is something delightfully and disharmoniously coy about the expression on Thirteen's face, even as her cheeks hollow over the slick black shaft, and the chain connecting her nipples swings back and forth. Eleanor would like to see her in a school uniform, or, no, even better: one of those ridiculous American girl scout get-ups. Caught selling more than cookies door to door. Eleanor throws back her head and moans loudly.
The soft sucking noises have stopped; Eleanor tilts her head upright again. Lisa and Thirteen are looking at her; Thirteen with startled amusement and Lisa with distinct disapproval.
"What?" Eleanor is a little ruffled, sitting there in her friend's armchair with her hand in her panties. Things were just starting to get interesting.
Lisa shakes her head. "I really thought I had trained you out of that."
Eleanor is outraged. "Out of what? Moaning? This isn't your cheap little shit-box apartment, Lisa. This is the suburbs. We're allowed to make noise in the suburbs. Or so I'm told, it's not like I've ever lived in the bloody suburbs."
Behind Lisa, Thirteen is shaking her head. Her expression is beyond amused. Lisa reaches into the toy chest and pulls out a very familiar head harness.
"Oh, no, you don't." Eleanor protests, but somehow doesn't move as Lisa buckles the leather straps over her head.
"Once, she screamed so loudly that the people downstairs called the police." Lisa speaks in a conversational manner to Thirteen as she pulls the straps tight, and makes sure Eleanor's hair isn't caught in the fastening. "Now, choose a gag." She points to the toy chest.
Eleanor rolls her eyes, but stops at a threatening glare from Lisa. She kneels by the chest and lets her eyes roam over the collection of implements. She wonders how, if Lisa is such a fiend for gadgets and toys, that the only gag not made of rubber is a huge silicone penis gag. Of course, it's deliberate. Lisa knows Eleanor can't stand the taste of rubber. Eleanor sighs, and hands the silicone cock over. Her jaw is going to ache for days after this.
Lisa pushes it against her mouth and Eleanor obediently opens, lets the silicone cock press her tongue down and slide to the back of her throat. Lisa gives her a moment to adjust and settle, then buckles it to the harness. "Now, get undressed and up on the bed. And behave yourself. I taught you better manners than that. Who comes first?"
Eleanor would pout if her mouth wasn't full of silicone. She points at Lisa.
Lisa nods. "You can come after I've finished, but not before. And you," she points at Thirteen, "I haven't decided if you're coming at all. So earn it."
Thirteen's eyes are mutinous as she stares at Eleanor. Suddenly on an even footing with Lisa's new sub, Eleanor feels a little uncertain. She shucks off her dress and underwear, and clambers onto the bed.
---
Eleanor would beat her head against the iron bed-head if Lisa hadn't thoughtfully put a huge pillow behind her when she cuffed Eleanor's hands to the railing. On hands and knees between Eleanor's wide spread legs, Thirteen is busy at work with fingers and mouth, slowly driving Eleanor insane. Lisa kneels above them both, watching, her cock deep inside Thirteen. When Eleanor gets too close to coming, Lisa reaches down and pulls Thirteen away by the hair, leaving Eleanor's cunt cold and empty. When Eleanor's breathing has slowed down, and the pointless thrusting of her hips towards Thirteen has eased, Lisa picks up the pace with the dildo again, driving into Thirteen so hard that Eleanor can hear the slap of the harness against Thirteen's bruised ass. Thirteen doesn't look too happy about the situation either – Lisa can just as easily read when Thirteen is getting close to coming, and then the pace slows, and Thirteen's head is pushed back down to Eleanor's cunt.
She plays them like violins for what feels like hours. Then slowly, imperceptibly, the pace picks up a little. Eleanor recognises the expression of concentration on Lisa's face. She tries to signal to Thirteen that this might be coming to an end, but Thirteen has already realised and is moving forwards and backwards to maximise the pressure of the harness against Lisa's clit. She really knows what she's doing, thinks Eleanor, as the girl rubs her thumb over Eleanor's clit. As Lisa is drawing closer to orgasm, Eleanor lets herself tumble closer, too.
Lisa comes with a harsh gasp, reaching under Thirteen's body for the chain and tugging it hard till the clamps come off. Eleanor sees Thirteen's eyes go wide as the blood rushes back into her nipples, then she doesn't see Thirteen's face again for a bit; Lisa is grinding it into Eleanor's cunt, and Eleanor is finally coming and coming. When her vision has finished greying out, Eleanor watches Thirteen's face transform with delight as Lisa, still buried deep inside her, strokes the girl's clit. She leans over Thirteen's back and whispers permission, and Thirteen arches, coming like a racehorse.
After:
For all she's a hard-ass, Lisa doesn't skimp on the aftercare. While Eleanor and Thirteen lie loose-limbed on the bed, it's Lisa who unbuckles and undoes all the gear, piles it on a towel for cleaning later, and runs them a bath.
Eleanor sits at one end. Lisa is at the other, with Thirteen cradled between her legs. There are bubbles and the water is blissfully hot. If Eleanor overlooks the brightly coloured bath toys, she can almost pretend that they are at some luxurious hotel.
She looks at Thirteen, who is leaning with her head between Lisa's breasts. "Is that really your name?"
Thirteen is allowed to speak now. She smiles that mysterious quirk of the lips that Eleanor finds so fascinating. "It's all the name I'm giving you."
Eleanor sighs happily and meets Lisa's gaze. "Can I borrow her? Please?"
Lisa wraps her arms a little tighter around Thirteen's shoulders. "I didn't invite you here to headhunt my doctors. And don't think you can recruit her, I've seen where you work. Your nurses do nothing but give lip."
Eleanor thinks about Jackie and is suddenly a tiny bit homesick, despite the fun she's been having. "Fair enough. I suppose I've got enough on my plate already. No need to be greedy." She works her fingers into the joint just below her ears. "And I've had just about enough of life in the suburbs, too. Not at all what I was expecting."