Cane and Able

They glared at each other. Considering how short the actual distance was between
them--less that two feet for all intents and purposes--it was amazing that nothing
combusted within those twenty-four inches. House felt the anger thrum through him,
and on the undercurrent of it, another sort of tension, one he didn’t want to have right
now. Not around her.

“WHAT did you just say?” Came Cameron’s cold, clear voice, cutting through his Vicodin-tinged fury. She stood with her hands on her hips, eyes lasering through him
even as her voice crackled with ice. House pursed his mouth before replying.

“I said, perhaps your judgment is being affected by your ovaries, and in the interest of
team spirit maybe you ought to get LAID once in a while. The glorious PPTH employing
us doesn’t need a cheerleader, we need an immunologist who can focus on the tests I
ordered instead of flirting with the patient.” He repeated in a dangerously low voice. A
pause hung in the air after his words, and seemed to stretch out, filling the office like a
thread of smoke.

Cameron finally broke it by lightly shaking her head.

“Flirting. With Winston O’Brien. That’s what this is about?”

“No, this is about failing to follow through on the scan I ordered in a timely fashion. As in
within the HOUR I order it, Cameron, not when you feel like getting around to it because
you’re so DAZZLED by someone’s pretty emerald eyes.”

Cameron flushed; obviously her remark about O’Brien had been overheard. Lifting her
chin, she met House’s scowl and felt a hint of regret.

“I scheduled the scan, JUST as you ordered. I don’t understand the problem.”

House leaned forward, eyes narrowing.

“Yes, well the problem is that the main machine is being taken apart for routine
maintenance and won’t be functioning for at LEAST another day. The one in the OR is
booked with the overflow and now Mr. Greeneyes is going to have to wait another
twenty-four hours because you didn’t get him in BEFORE the dismantling deadline of
four o’clock. YOUR mistake, Cameron, so suck it up.”

She flushed beet red, awful realization hitting her hard in the stomach at the truth of his
words. God. They’d made the decision on O’Brien at two-thirty, and she’d made a few
rounds, chatted with him, worked on the stack of case files . . . and finally had gone to
the booking desk and signed him up, never bothering to check the schedule . . .

“So his MRI is delayed—he’s stabilized, the wait is not life-threatening,” she brazened.
House shook his head slowly, never dropping his glare.

“The ISSUE here isn’t about whether or not you lucked out, Doctor Cameron, because
you did this time. No, the issue is about following MY directives. Putting it in layman’s
terms, you’ve been a bad girl.” He sneered.

 Anger worked, and it was easy to sublimate his murky feelings into that focus, all the
better to ignore the tightness in his stomach at her proximity. For a long moment House
stared at her, wishing she wasn’t so sexy when she was infuriated, that she didn’t smell
like a hot peach when she got angry.

She pursed her pretty mouth, clamping down hard on her own rage.

“Fine. So you’re angry with me for not jumping like a good little toady over a matter that
doesn’t in fact, matter. If you think of me as some whiny little brat, House, maybe you
ought to just spank me and make me promise never to do it again. Would THAT satisfy
your superiority complex?” she snapped back.

“Done.” House growled instantly. Cameron blinked. The atmosphere in the empty office changed instantly, like a shift of color, a trick of the eye, or in this case, the ear. She straightened up, but House was already moving to close the blinds along the glass wall, pulling them across. For a second she froze, watching him, her eyes wide.

“You can’t—“ she began in a low, choked tone, feeling a flood of heat in her belly. The
look in his eyes as he turned stunned her. He wore a grim little smile as he leaned on
his cane.

“—Be serious? You made the offer and it’s a damned good one. I bet you’ve never been
struck your entire life, have you? A goodie two-shoes from the day you were born. Little
Miss Honor Roll, Miss Straight As and Follow the Rules.”

“I’ve been punished before—“ Cameron quavered, fighting the urge to step back from
his glower. House shook his head knowingly.

“Oh boohoohoo. Let me guess. No phone for a week. Probably had to miss someone’s sleepover because you left your baton out, or skipped piano lessons. But nothing
physical for our little Allison. No one’s ever laid a hand to that soft skin, and
consequently, you learned to compromise your way out of problems. Do the
REASONABLE thing. Newsflash; men like me aren’t reasonable. We’re demanding,
impatient and far more likely to make a concrete example than we are to negotiate. So.
There are nine letters in the simple phrase ‘I was wrong’ and you’ll count off that exact
number of smacks.”

As he growled this, House lumbered over to his easy lounger in the corner, locking the
door of his office as he passed by it. Carefully he lowered himself into the recliner and
pulled it into the upright position, locking it there. He looked at Cameron.

“You ARE . . . serious.” She finally blurted, feeling alternate flushes of heat and chill
move across her skin. Her nipples were tight and hard, and she felt a sudden slickness between her thighs that shocked her. Fight or flight, fight or flight . . .

“And you’re pretty slow on the uptake, but I chalk that up to this newly insouciant streak
of yours. Yes, I’m serious. Absolutely serious. Come here.”

With wobbly steps she approached him, clearly fighting every move. He grimly smiled.

She was ready for this. Primed. Any other woman would have stormed out, left and
threatened to sue. A woman like Cuddy would have laughed in his face.

But not Cameron.

From the day he’d hired her she’d been subliminating her sensuality, and that had been driving him slowly nuts. She was gorgeous but uncertain, almost virginal even after a
marriage and he burned for her in a way he hadn’t felt in years, hadn’t LET himself feel
in a long, long time.


Impatiently House used his cane to herd Cameron closer, moving the long wood behind
her thighs, pinning her against the right side of the chair.

“It is well within my rights as head of this department to mete out disciplinary action as I
see fit for infractions and misdemeanors,” he growled softly. “And normally it would be politically correct to give you a choice—suspension, extra clinic duty—but not this time.
I’m going to spank you, and damned HARD at that. You’ll take it and learn your lesson
about not following my directives. Do you understand?”

Cameron fought the trembling in her legs, fascinated and angry and far more aroused
than she dared admit. House was right; she’d never been struck, not once in her entire childhood or adolescence. Her parents were reasonable people. And here she was,
trapped by a completely UNreasonable man. She nodded slowly. House let the cane
stroke against the back of her thigh.

“Excellent. Take off your lab coat, lift your skirt and lower your panties then.”

His words sent a hard shiver through her; Cameron gaped. He waited. House looked
perfectly prepared to wait hours, days for her to comply. His expression was stern, his
eyes a smoldering blue. She slowly slid out of her coat, reluctant to lose the comfort of
it, draping it over the back of the recliner. House nodded.

“The first thing you’ve done right, so far. Keep going.”

Cameron’s hands trembled now, visibly. She took a breath, and reached under the hem
of her skirt, hooking fingers into the elastic of her underwear, grateful that she’d chosen
thigh highs instead of her usual pantyhose today. Trying to wrestle those off would be a nightmare, particularly in front of an impatient House.  She paused.

House was waiting for that, and acted. He let his cane slide up, the cool wood caressing
her thigh, lifting her skirt from the back as he spoke.

“Don’t defy me now, brat. You know damn well you deserve this.”

She bit her lips at the truth of that. Yes she did—she’d screwed up, a fact impossible to escape. With a quick shove, she pushed the panties down to her knees. A light blue
pair, with daisies on them. As she made to step out of them, House shook his head.

“Right there. Nothing quite as humiliating as having your panties at half-mast in front of
your boss. And now your skirt up, if you please—“ came his gruff comment. Cameron
closed her eyes, feeling the hot rush of awareness all OVER her body. Her arms
refused to cooperate for a moment. Then House cleared his throat and in a rush, she
tugged her skirt up to her waist.

He stared through half-closed eyes, aware of his own labored breathing, aware of the
sweet beauty of Allison Cameron’s half-bare body. Sleek and sweetly pale, the carved
hips, the lean thighs encased in stockings, and nestled between them, her russet
triangle of fur in a gentle enticing tangle. Gorgeous, and within hand’s reach—House
drew in a patient breath.

“All right, so far so good Doctor Cameron. Give me your hand—“

Surprised at his command, Cameron opened her eyes to see him staring up at her face, ignoring her body. That stunned her and she extended one slender arm to him. House grasped her wrist and tugged, HARD. She fell forward, right across his lap, landing
against his thighs firmly enough to knock some of her breath away and bring a bitten
gasp of pain from him. She struggled for a moment, but the sudden hard press of his
cane along the middle of her back made her freeze.

“Don’t. Move.” He ordered. She didn’t. Carefully House shifted, bringing his cane along
her spine. He handed it to her.

“Plant it firmly on the carpet and grab it with both hands. That will give you something to
hang onto while we do this.”

Dazed, Cameron did, gripping the smooth mahogany shaft, wrapping her palms around
it firmly. Fearfully she looked up over her shoulder. House shot her a grim smile.

“Oh yes, gluteus maximus. In your case, beauteous maximus. Tushie galore. You have
a hell of a nice ass, Cameron. Too bad I have to make it hurt.”

“House—“ she heard herself plead, hating the sound of her voice. It should have been scornful, but instead it was low and breathy. He chuckled meanly.

“Spelling bee time. You do the words and I’ll do the stings. Your phrase is ‘I was wrong’. Begin—“

“I—“ came her automatic response; a second later the hard sudden smack made her
jump. The pain seared over her ass, and Cameron’s grip on the cane tightened
spasmodically. “OW!”

“Not part of the phrase.” House told her. “Don’t make me add penalty strokes.”

Cameron shifted uncomfortably. God it all seemed unreal at the moment. Her feet didn’t
quite touch the floor, and the warmth of House’s lap bothered her. The feel of his big
left hand planted between her shoulder blades bothered her. The fact that her bare ass
was presented to him like some sort of gift, a stinging burning, hurting gift—

“Next letter.” House rumbled. Cameron gripped the cane more tightly.

“W—“ Again a sharp smack, just under the first one, just as shockingly hard. Cameron
fought the sudden prickle of tears. It wasn’t just the pain, but the sense of outrage that
welled in her. That she, a fully qualified doctor, a specialist in her own RIGHT would be
forced to—

“A” came her little growl. Another smack, this one back onto the site of the first one, re-reddening the area, bringing fresh burn to it. She gulped.

Damn it! Yes, it hurt, but worse than that it burned. It galled and infuriated, and God
help her it made her want to squirm breathlessly.


 House heard the shift in her voice and closed his eyes for a moment, savoring it. The
sight of Cameron’s darling little naked tush, smooth and cheeky was more than enough
to get the old personal hydraulics moving, Christ yes. Thank God she was too mad to
notice the stiff lump prodding her in the stomach, but she’d figure it out soon enough.
The trick was to keep her angry. He smacked again.

“About ready to cry yet?” House taunted, pressing his left hand harder between her
shoulder blades, only to be rewarded by renewed tension in her back. Her long hair
hung down, swaying a little, and he noted the imprints of his hand on her ass, growing
red even as he watched.

“W.” she growled. “R.”

“Ah-ah, no rushing. That’s going to mean an extra smack, Doctor.” House whipped his
hand down, feeling the crack of his palm against the taut muscle of her ass, loving the
jolt of it. Cameron’s skin was satiny, with the tiniest of blonde down along her backbone.
He longed to lick the dimples on either side of the base of her spine.

Swiftly he dropped another quick spank at the tender point under the rounded cheek
just at the back of her thigh, jolting her a little. Cameron squirmed delightfully.


“Next letter, brat.”

“Ah . . . O.” She burbled, shifting her thighs. The burn across her butt still hurt, but that
LAST smack—something about that one was different. Tensing, Cameron waited. The
next blow was high, sizzling across previous ones and making her suck in a deep
breath. She gripped the cane harder, and arched her ass up, hoping to catch the next
blow lower.


Yes. This one hit JUST right, the heat making a molten sizzle along her ass and up
between her thighs . . . ooohhh.

“G!” she gasped, her entire backside on fire now, the skin so hot that the burn of it sank through the layers of muscle. Her face was wet, her body shaking and just as she
started to relax—

One final smack, harder than the rest, aimed perfectly along that sweet bottom curve of
her ass, jolting and sizzling and House left his big hand THERE, pressing the heat in
under the weight of his calluses, touching her possessively. Cameron shuddered,
rubbing against his lap, feeling herself fly up and over the edge, squirming with sudden, shocking NEED. She widened her damp thighs, gripping the supportive pole of the
cane and just as obligingly House’s fingers slid down between her legs, through her
wet fur and over her stiff little button, rubbing it.

“That’s what you want, isn’t it? It’s what you’ve always wanted from me—“ House
crooned in a hoarse voice. “You want my attention, sexually.”

She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe as the hot pleasure of his teasing hand played with
her. Gasping, Cameron pushed herself against his palm harder, grinding now.

“And now you’re going to come, aren’t you? Right on my hand, Allison, in the way only
very nasty girls do—“ House taunted her. Arching her hips, Cameron rocked against his fingertips, and the unbelievable pleasure spiked between her thighs as she came,
groaning and gripping the cane so hard her fingers were bloodless and white against
the dark wood.

“AhhhAHHHH!” she groaned, utterly lost in her pleasure. House bit his lip, fighting hard
for his own control, for the thrill of seeing her so beautifully wanton across his lap. When
she finally stilled, he slid his hand out from under her and softly stroked her brick red
butt, then blew a cooling breath across it. Cameron started, and turned her head to look
at him through her dangling hair. Her eyes glittered and her face held the flush of the
freshly fucked.

“There, was that so bad?” he arched an eyebrow at her. Cameron licked her lips.

“I want you.”

“I know.”

“I mean right now.”

“I know.”

“Can I--?”

“Yes.” He scooped the cane out of her grasp and helped her shift. Swiftly she freed
herself of the panties and undid his jeans, tugging them down with his help. Strong
thighs, one heavily scarred. She gazed at his thick cock, rising sturdily out of a thick bed
of graying curls, his heavy balls dark and round.

“I want—“ she quavered. He pressed his hot hand over her mouth, silencing her.
Carefully, House pulled her to straddle him, using his cane horizontally across the small
of her back as a brace. He gripped it, keeping her close, and Cameron slowly guided
him to the slick cleft between her parted thighs. She sank down, impaling herself on
him, moaning as she did so. House made a helpless growling sound deep in the back
of his throat; he gripped the cane around her hips tightly, using it to yank her closer.

They kissed. The hot slithery kisses of repressed desire, teasing and deep, rich and full. Cameron writhed, moving up and down on his rampant cock, going slower than he
wanted, her heated ass burning his thighs on every down stroke until with an angry
groan House grabbed her arms and hooked them back around the cane, pinning it
between her crooked elbows and her back. He slid his hands to her hips.

“Done with the fucking tease, brat. MY turn—“ he whispered, and pulled her down hard
onto his straining cock. Cameron let him, feeling the hard wood of the cane against her
spine. As House pumped her body onto himself, she felt the sweet rise of heat begin
again between her thighs, matching the burn of her ass.

He came, hard, the long lines of his throat standing out as he threw his head back and
closed his eyes. Cameron thought she’d never seen anything so beautiful as House in
the throes of passion. She quivered, and the lovely wash of another climax rushed over
her even as she felt him erupt within her.


So good.

Worth a spanking.

Slumping forward, she let the cane drop from behind her and slid her arms around his shoulders, just resting there for a long time.

House held her, feeling a warmth that had nothing to do with his burning hand. He
stroked his fingers along her spine in a comforting gesture, feeling relaxed and
unexpectedly tender.  Cameron tilted her head to look up at him, and the sight of her
long hair all tousled made him grin.

“So this is your solution—discipline AND I get laid.”

“Yep. That’s why they made me head of the department.”

“I see. Um—if that’s the sort of discipline I can expect—“ Cameron commented. House
hid his grin.


“—then you’d better be prepared for me to be much more of a brat in the future.”

House chuckled softly, and kissed her.

“I’ll keep you in hand. Trust me on that one.”



House index