Wilson was saddened but not surprised when House declared he wanted to go out 'for a walk' the next Thursday night at the same time as the previous week. He tried to talk him out of it again but of course House remained obstinate and Wilson watched as his friend left the apartment and made his way down the street.

Neither he nor Cuddy had been able to find out what was happening with House. But this week he was ready. He used his phone app to track the GPS device in House's collar. House left the apartment and walked a couple of blocks before stopping for a minute or so. Then he made much quicker progress - suggesting that he'd been picked up by somebody in a car. The car drove for several miles before stopping. The tracking device showed House entering a building - possibly someone's house.

Wilson drove the same route. Eventually he pulled up outside a suburban house in a quiet street. He parked the car and surveyed the property on foot. There was no-one in sight but there was a closed garage and the signal from House's collar was still coming through strongly. House was in this unassuming building. Wilson still had no clue what could have compelled him to go voluntarily but he was going to find out.

He was debating what to do next when he heard some voices coming from the rear of the house. His heart pounding, he crept up past the side of the house and looked over the gate.

He nearly called out when he saw House. He was naked, except for a wicked looking contraption around his balls and cock, and he was running - running! - around the yard, while a group of five men yelled encouragement at him. One of the men had a crop and was swiping at House's ass as he ran - presumably to encourage the crippled man to go even faster. All the men howled with laughter when House flinched as the blow landed on his naked flesh.

The man with the crop appeared familiar from the back and when the man turned his head Wilson recognised him.

Michael Tritter - House's old nemesis from a lifetime ago. So, nobody from the hospital after all - but someone else with a proven vendetta against House. Tritter would extract every bit of revenge he could from the helpless slave.

Wilson watched from the darkness, sickened, as the men laughed at the clearly struggling slave. When House finally collapsed to the ground, unable to go any further, Tritter poured the remains of a can of beer over him. Two of the other men then picked him up and slung him between them like a sack of potatoes. They took him over to a rough wooden table in the centre of the yard and dumped him over it so that his feet were on the ground and his ass at the edge of the table. Tritter walked behind him and opened his fly - pulling out his thickened cock.

Wilson turned away in distress. He didn't want to watch this. He didn't want to share in his friend's humiliation. He could still hear the crude tones of the men as they laughed at what Tritter was doing.

He considered his options quickly - he could call the police to reinforce his rights as House's 'owner'. But with Tritter possibly still on the police force, and with a cloud of suspicion already hanging over their whole situation at the SAC it was a bad idea to bring attention to themselves. The alternative was to try and save House himself. House was tagged to Wilson after all - no-one should be 'using' him like this. It was well within Wilson's rights to intervene.

He heard a muffled sound of pain and looked back. Tritter was pounding into House. Wilson saw red - the time for deliberation was over. He couldn't allow this to happen to House. He yelled out at the men as he opened the gate and ran through to the yard.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing to my slave?" He launched himself at Tritter who pulled out of his victim and swung on Wilson with a roundhouse punch which he easily dodged. Wilson punched him on the jaw and then as Tritter was falling he kneed him in the groin. The man's dick was still hanging out of his pants and he doubled over in agony at the blow.

Tritter's friends were starting to advance on Wilson and Wilson held out a hand.

"I've called the police. That is my slave, my tagged slave that you have there. None of you have a right to touch him. I'll press charges, and I'll sue you for thousands in damages." House might not be entitled to protection as a human being, but the law saw him as valuable property.

House was still lying over the table, unmoving and Wilson looked at him coldly. "Crawl over there and put your clothes back on, slave. You'll be paying for this for a long time."

It nearly broke his heart to see his old friend crawling across the muddy ground to retrieve his clothes but he had to keep the act up. He had to convince these men that he was as sick a bastard as all of them. He turned his back on House and rounded on Tritter.

"After everything that House has ever done to me, Tritter, this is my chance to get my revenge on him. You are not screwing that up for me. You fuck with him again and I'll bust this little circle of yours wide open. "

"He'll be taken off you," Tritter was still doubled over on the ground, his breath coming in short pants. "He'll be sold."

"No, he won't. There's no law against buying people you used to know, as long as you use them as they're supposed to be used. I can prove that I do. There is a law against using other people's property though. You're a policeman, I'm sure you know that."

He turned away and looked at House who had dressed himself and come to kneel by Wilson.

"Get up and go out to my car, harness yourself up and put your hood on. Your ass is mine tonight, once I clean Tritter's filth out of it."

"Yes, Master. I'm sorry, Master." House was staring at the ground, his body visibly trembling.

"You fucking well will be sorry when I'm finished with you. Get out of here." Wilson kicked out at him, connecting lightly with House's good leg, and House staggered to his feet and limped off, struggling without his cane.

"Remember, Tritter, and all of you fuckwits - don't come near him again. I have video of your vandalism of my property." He waved his phone in their direction. He hadn't taken any video, and if he had he'd never make it public, but they didn't know that.

"Nice act," Tritter sneered, finally getting to his feet. "But you don't fool me."

Wilson shrugged. "Then touch him again and we'll see what happens. In the meantime don't go to any doctors - I have a lot of friends in the medical profession. I'll put the word out. Next time, you'll find more than a thermometer up your sorry ass."

He stormed off, his heart pounding. When he reached the car he looked back but there was no sign of anyone following and he breathed a sigh of relief and quickly opened the door on the driver's side. House was already in the back of the car, his harness on and a hood covering his face. Wilson was glad; he didn't want to see how House looked at that moment.

He drove off; keeping a wary eye on his mirrors but the road behind them was empty. He only relaxed slightly once they'd be driving for five minutes.

"It's going to be okay, House." He said to the quiet figure in the back of the car. There was no reply, he hadn't expected one but he still longed to hear some sort of sarcastic rejoinder. There was nothing. "Everything is going to be okay, you're safe now" he repeated. He wished he believed it.

The remainder of the drive passed silently. When they got to the apartment Wilson opened the rear car door and released House from the harness and then helped him out of the car. He removed the hood and House immediately averted his eyes, staring at the ground instead of looking at his friend and owner. Wilson sighed, clipped the leash onto House's collar, and led him inside.

As soon as they were inside House dropped to a kneeling position, his head bowed.

"House? What are you doing? Get up." Having House kneel at his feet made Wilson uncomfortable, especially after what he'd just seen.

House quickly stood up, clasped his hands behind his back and bowed his head. Wilson had often, in his old life, wanted to see House this quiet and submissive, and willing to listen. But now he desperately wanted the old House - the one who wouldn't listen to him and didn't take any crap from anyone - back. He hated seeing him like this. He didn't know this slavish stranger.

"When did you meet Tritter?" He asked at last. He was angry with House for keeping this from him - if he'd have known maybe he would have been able to prevent what happened tonight - but he also knew that House was very vulnerable in this state. He had to tread carefully if he didn't want to cause more damage.

"At the police station, when I was there overnight." House answered in a small, hesitant voice.

Wilson flashed back to the morning when he'd picked him up. House When had come home bruised and scared. "He abused you." It wasn't a question.

House looked up, despair in his eyes. "It's not abuse if you're a slave." His voice was sad, and bitter.

"What he did to you, then and tonight, it isn't right." Wilson said.

"It's only 'not right' because I belong to you, not to him. You could do the same, or worse, than Tritter did and nothing would happen to you." House's voice was flat, emotionless. He still stood with his hands behind his back. "Nobody would think you had done anything wrong."

"Nobody has the right to abuse you." Wilson knew it was a lie. People did - he did. Nobody cared about the welfare of a slave. House had no illusions.

"If he approaches you again, if any of them bother you, you let me know. Understood? I will handle it. You can't deal with this on your own. Not now." He spoke firmly, trying to get through to House.

"Yes, Master." House responded flatly, bowing his head.

"House!" Wilson strode over to him, grasping his arm, only to feel House flinch at his touch. He hastily dropped his hand. "Sorry. Just don't call me that, ever."

"As you say, Master. May I go and get cleaned up?"

Wilson threw his hands up in despair.

"Sure."

House went to move off and then hesitated. "I need something to cut the cage off. Tritter locked it."

Wilson didn't know what he was referring to at first and then he remembered the contraption around House's waist and groin. He'd ordered House to get dressed but hadn't said anything about it. He must have put his pants on over the top. He found some sharp scissors and wordlessly handed them to House.

House took the scissors and went into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Wilson collapsed onto a chair. He was shaking now - the adrenaline of his clash with Tritter having worn off. He didn't know what he would have done if Tritter had put up more of a fight. He closed his eyes, unable to unsee the image of House bent over that table being raped. Dear God, what had his friend's life been like these last years? House seemed to regard something like that as normal.

"Wilson?" He heard House's tentative voice and looked up to see House standing there awkwardly with the scissors in one hand, his pants pulled up with the other. "I can't cut it."

"The scissors should be sharp enough..."

"No," House shook his head. "I mean, I can't cut it off. A free man put it on me - a slave can't destroy things like that. I just can't..." He held out his hand which was shaking. "I tried."

Would this nightmare never end? He put out his hands for the scissors and took them, gesturing for House to drop his pants.

House did so and Wilson got a good look at the cage. It was held on by a strap around House's waist and he cut that first. The cage itself was locked with a padlock and he carefully cut through one side of the plastic, aware of House's genitals just inches away. He tried to think of this as a medical procedure. He'd taken worse things out of people's asses before this, and even some ingenious devices from genitals.

When the cage came off he could see that there were spikes on the inside, which would have pressed down on House's cock as it became engorged. It would have been extremely painful. Without thinking he bent over the cock, examining it. The surface was reddened, and abraded in some places.

"You'll need some cream for that."

"I can do it," House said stiffly, awkwardly pulling his pants up.

"I should examine..."

"No." House started backing away. "I'm a doctor too in case you've forgotten. It's fine. Thanks for cutting it off."

He retreated to the bathroom, almost running, and Wilson heard the shower come on, full force - as if House could wash away what had happened that night. He listened to the water and stared at the walls of the apartment, wishing that the last three years had never happened.

They couldn't go on like this, something had to change. He had to make things better for both of them. Somehow.