It was a Monday- which meant that it was finally snowing like the forecast said it would, 5 days until the milk in the fridge expired, and exactly one week after Chase started dating House. It was not like Wilson was purposefully keeping tabs on them; he had just always been the observant one. Even though everyone had some sort of idea of how screwed up Gregory House was, no one had ever witnessed his psychological or physical torture first hand. No one but Wilson knew the inevitable truth that was soon to come.

He will hurt Chase.

A romantic evening. What on earth was that supposed to mean? Chase pondered what House could have meant until his cell phone's ringing dragged him out of his thoughts.

It was Wilson, one of his closest friends. He had met him around the time that he had met House. In fact, Wilson was the one that introduced him to House. During his first long day at the hospital and he got lost. Wanting to ask for directions, he stumbled into Wilson's room in order to find out where to go.

"Hello." Chase's mind was on too many things to come up with a better conversation starter. They talked for a few minutes until House walked back into the room smile fading as he looked at Chase. He interrupted the conversation momentarily and looked at House who was currently buying a shopping bag.

"Hold on. Do you want to talk to him? He's right here." Chase stood up and offered the cellular device to House which was met with him shutting it off immediately without even looking at it.

"Oh well, conversation was getting kind of bland anyway," Chase said with a humorous indifference to it. House eyed him as he put the cell phone up.

"What?" Chase asked.

"I leave for 5 minutes to go buy something and you already start entertaining yourself with someone else on the phone?" House asked. He didn't sound irritated just yet. He just sounded staggered.

"Well it's not like I asked Wilson to call. Plus—," Chase was cut off.

"Wilson? Since when has Wilson been giving you secret phone calls at night?" House inquired.

"It's… not that big of a deal House," Chase chuckled.

"Not that big of a deal?" House repeated nonchalantly. Or rather it was his attempt to sound nonchalant.

"How many times does he usually call you?"

Chase rolled his eyes. "House really? This is pointless."

"You're accent isn't gonna get you out of this one wombat. Answer the question."

When House continued to stare at him blankly Chase sighed and finally answered. "He barely calls me. This was the first time in a long time. Happy?"

Another stare.

"What, you don't trust me? I mean we should start trustin' each other." Chase then jokingly he added. "Anyways what did you mean by a romantic evening? Does it have anything to do with what's in the bag?"

House nodded once, his face expressionless and hard to read. It had always intimidated Chase a little. He wasn't the best at reading body language but House's was more mysterious than most. He had yet to understand what House's reactions were to certain situations.

House walked up to Chase and grabbed him by his chin, leaning over for a kiss. House shrugged off his jacket and shirt while removing the ones on chase, who was so caught up in the moment that he hadn't realized House bringing both of his hands to the front between them.

Chase heard a snap and his hands were heavy. He felt the cold metal on his skin and though the handcuffs were a little loose, it was still hard to move in them. He looked up at House, obviously nervous.

"Come on," House whispered with a little snicker. "I know how kinky you are."

Chase blushed at House's statement. It was something that Chase admitted to House a couple of times but he hadn't expected him to actually comply with it. Chase had always fantasies of how things would be like to be roughed up a bit but it wasn't something he was ready to do at the moment. At least not yet. It was then that House realized his nervous look in which he responded in with a slight grin, obviously taking it at something he looked forward to.

"You don't trust me?" House said mockingly in a tone that resembled Chase's when he asked the question.

"That's not what I meant," Chase whispered defensively. "I just think that this is a little…" The fiery look House's eyes were getting was startling. He gulped and choked out "…soon."

"You said we needed to work on our trust," House said obviously mocking Chase's earlier statement about the phone conversation he had had with Wilson before they started. "So why not start by trusting me with your body?" There was something ominous in his tone and his gaze was intense; it never left Chase's eyes or body for a second, even as House shrugged off his own shirt and whenever Chase looked away, he could feel it burning through him.

This made Chase very anxious but he shrugged it off as him being nervous. After all, he'd never done anything like this before.

House roughly pulled Chase against his own lips into a scorching kiss that broke the skin off his bottom lip. Crimson tears dripped down the side of Chase's mouth who let out a slight whimper from the pain. House pulled him in again as Chase groaned against his lips. Their bodies' movements were subconscious while they kissed, making the pressure against Chase's back from the wall surprising. House pushed his body harder against his, forcing Chase to breathe harder.

Chase couldn't tell whether he was feeling overwhelmed or embraced. He could tell that House was enjoying it so he became too scared and enthralled to really protest. However he couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't something that he wanted or that House had Chase's interests in mind.

House grabbed Chase's quivering body and bumped against his growing erection, grounding their hips together tightly, gnawing on his neck. He only let up to turn Chase's body around as his long fingers then ran up the blonde man's torso to pull at his nipples, teasing them back and forth into hardness. Chase let out a moan.

"Doesn't take a lot to turn you on does it?" House muttered with a sigh as he threaded his fingers through Chase's hair. Chase tensed when he sensed the inquiry had a slight accusatory tone to it. His own back muscles contracted as the grip in his hair tightened to an unbearable amount, making his eyes began to water. "I never liked your hair at this length."

"House…" Chase tried his best to stifle his panic but his whimpers gave it away. He felt that everything was going too fast.

Suddenly, House got off of him and Chase inhaled sharply and turned around, leaning against the wall weakly and he caught his breath. House, still having . "You can't be tired yet."

"House, I think we should take things slow—" Chase was instantly cut off.

"Don't bitch to me," House snapped. "I wasn't the one who looked this kind of shit up on the internet just to get my rocks off to it."

Chase was instantly embarrassed. He told personally things like that to House in confidence when they were starting to get serious. It was just something he felt that he should share and even though no one was around, he felt mortified at House screaming it at him, as if condemning him for sharing such dark fantasies. The fact that Chase was standing there, naked and with handcuffs, just added to the humiliation.

Who knows, maybe he was being too nervous and overreacting. But he was at least expecting House to understand his point of view and listen to what he had to say. He just didn't want to take it too far to the point of feeling real pain. He opened his mouth again to speak was stopped instantly when he saw the blank glazed stare in House's eyes which made him well aware that any words he would say would slide right past him.

"Against the wall." The harsh words broke the awkward silence.

"What?" Chase choked out, his body tensing up even more.

"You heard what I said. This isn't necessarily the right time to play dumb."

Chase went back to the wall resting his forehead on it and though he gave up on saying anything to protest, he still had some hope left. House wouldn't just keep going if his cries represented true pain would he? Or maybe he would mistake one for the other.

House came from behind, caressing his slowly inching his hands lower until they reached Chase's backside. He squeezed them and proceeded to rub them. Then suddenly he smacked them with his hand. Chase's body had lit up, every inch of his skin hyperaware of every sensation, because he was waiting for more of the pain to come. He bit down on his already injured lip to try to lower the impending whimpers and screams.

House continued to spank him. It wasn't gentle; it wasn't tender. And Chase felt no pleasure from the harsh blows.

"Greg!"

"Mm, yeah keep screaming my name like that," he breathed onto Chase's neck.

Another pause came—and then the pain on his backside got worse. He turned around quickly to see House's belt coiled around his hand like a whip, with the buckle dangling, reading to move at his will.

"Greg please—," Chase was cut off by his own whimpering.

"I don't understand why you were so nervous," House growled, pausing the hits to complete his sentence. "Your body doesn't seem all that scared. Looks like you're already twitching for more." Chase said nothing. He only pressed his face harder at the wall, pondering hopelessly if his heart was racing from fear or the anticipation.

The blows continued but not only on his bum; House moved his hits sometimes to the back of his thighs or to his upper back. Each blow made him quiver and made Chase make up his mind. He didn't like this. He didn't like this at all. Each hit crushed his ego making him feel small and helpless. He wanted to feel embraced, not punished. Chase's whimpers began to become more intense and his chest burned with the effort he used trying to keep the tears at bay. To cry in front of House would be a lot more humiliating than being handcuffed or spanked by him. Admitting the pain would be even worse.

But before he had even had a chance to ponder whether or not he should admit such, the blows had stopped. Now resting his head against the wall rather than shoving it, Chase relaxed and sighed, wiping off the few tears that managed to come out onto his right shoulder.

Now, cool fingers circled the back of his neck, pressing his face against the wall again in a vice grip and House dipped down to spread the blonde man's cheeks with the other had. Was House going to take him right then and there? This was going to be how their first time?

House traced a finger around Chase's entrance, occasionally dipping it in to see the other man's reaction. Chase, so unused to feeling such sensations, clenched his cheeks and gasped. House spit on his finger and shoved it inside, not giving Chase a warning. Chase let out a groan but he couldn't decide whether he liked this new feeling or not.

Then suddenly, something else was shoved in his backside. He had heard many rumors that this type of feeling would hurt, but the feeling of House's penetration exceeded his expectations. Chase's arms wiggled against the restraints the handcuffs gave him. His scream stuck to his throat and his eyes rolled back into his head. His mouth was ajar empty of words but dripped with salivation. It hung open for more intakes from the immense pain and pressure being acted on his body. House's hand snaked around his neck, grasping his throat harshly. He stuck a finger in Chase's mouth and Chase could feel the House's smile at the wetness of his finger.

"Such a dirty mouth," House joked. He pulled whatever it was inside Chase out and shoved it in again as deep as it could go. This time he did it slowly; the pain wasn't as intense.

"House," Chase managed to wheeze out. "Stop! I can't…"

Chase stopped talking for two reasons. The first being his dizziness form lack of air, the second being the sentence being cut off by the screams that emanated from his diaphragm when House started shoving the thing in and out again relenting only when he himself was tired of moving his arm. And once he rested it, he put his other hand against Chase's dripping erection.

"Looky here!" he called out. "Seems like you're enjoying it a lot more than you're letting on cause you're dripping all over," he mused, fisting Chase's leaking erection tightly. "You really are kinky if you like the feeling of a cane up your ass."

Those words made Chase's heart skip a beat. "Your…?"

He couldn't even inquire his question before being bombarded with the thrusts again. If the spanking hadn't done a number on his ego, this certainly did the trick. He was being penetrated—fucked with some inanimate object and was made to think that this is what he wanted. He hated it. It would be a lot easier to cope with if his body hadn't betrayed his contemplation. He was fully erect and dripping with pre cum. He hadn't even realized that he was still hard until House groped his cock again. In his mind the burning coils in his stomach were attributed to his desperation and pain.

Not holding back this time, Chase wept.

When it was all over—when Chase climaxed eventually, House stood there and watched Chase as he sank into the floor. His head was held low so House wouldn't see him cry, even though it was obvious from his quivering and other noises he made.

"I-I told you to stop." Chase had said as House walked away. House didn't react to his sentence except for the little pause in his limp before he opened the door to the hallway.

House hadn't taken the cane out, leaving chase with the painful task of pulling it out by himself. It was then that he noticed that there was blood…so much blood. That's why the cane's thrust became slightly smoother. His blood acted as some type of lubricant. With clenched teeth and watery eyes Chase finally got the strength to stand up again. He didn't know why he felt so heavy all of a sudden. Was it from post orgasmic sensations or was his humiliation weighing him down? Either way it made his legs shake. There were so many question that the young Aussie inquired to himself as he made his way to the bathroom.

Why had it cause him so much pain? Did House want the best for him? Did House know that it was painful or was his cries something that seemed like it fit the situation? Wasn't it his fault for having such fantasies in the first place? Or maybe he just didn't care. He hurt, he cried, he bled.

He didn't even know what he wanted anymore.

No temperature he put the shower's water on helped with the pain. The cold water made his fresh welts feel like icicle fingers dragging across his back while the hot water made them burn. There was no warm water in the apartment. It was either cold or hot. Something about the pipes that the previous people couldn't figure out or something House never bothered to figure out.

When he got out of the shower, he looked at his phone and found out he had 3 missed calls. All from Wilson.

Hey! An apology to those that read the other chapters before i decided to make this the first one...I thought this would add more suspense. I would also like to notify that chase's angst is not simply written for the hell of it. I want it to be emotional and if i do not deliver on that, please let me know what i can do to change that. thank you and have a nice day :). A thank you to the first three reviwers especially the most recent one. She actually gave me insight on some revisions on the first chapter to make it less confusing for the rest of the story