"I'm aware," House says, pulling him in for a kiss. "And you're indulging me, so you don't have much room to complain." He pauses. "We're doing the whole roleplay thing too, yes?"

 

He swallows and looks at him. "I suppose we are."

 

"Good."

 

"Are we doing the stereotypical thing?" Chase asks, tilting his head. "You know, naughty student, gets spanked over the desk, etcetera—"

 

House smiles in a way he can only describe as predatory— oh *yes*, they're definitely doing the stereotypical scenario. "If you'd be okay with that."

 

He nods. "Of course. Catholic school setting and everything." He leans in to kiss him again. "Start when you're ready." He steps back, like he's waiting for House to grab him. He doesn't mind the thought at all.

 

After a few seconds, House's look shifting as he gets into character; then he grabs him by his loosely made tie and pulls him toward him, grabbing him before grinding up against his cunt.

 

"Mr. House," he breathes out.

 

"Shh," he shushes him, pulling him into a kiss. "Quiet. You don't want any of the nuns to hear this, do you?"

 

Chase isn't ashamed to admit that sends him reeling, his cunt pulsing at that; he gets wet and he whimpers into House's mouth as he kisses him messily, grinding up against him with wild abandon. He's *hard* already, pulling at Chase's uniform but not doing anything to take it off. Of course he isn't— what would be the fun then?

 

"N-no, Mr. House," he breathes out. 

 

The real thrill of this is, well, how *perverted* it is. How much he's catering to House's creepy old man fantasies, how much he's liking to play the role. It sends a shiver down his spine, makes him more and more eager to play into this thing full of shame, full of perversion. He knows House likes it like that— and well, he's starting to, too.

 

He leans down and presses a kiss to his neck, sucking a hickey into it. "You see," he starts, "your grades in my class have dropped. Far below what's acceptable for such a bright boy as you."

 

He shudders. The chastising tone makes him wetter— he can psychoanalyze that later. "Mr. House…" he starts, his lip trembling, eyes wide as he keeps slowly grinding up against his skirt, one hand reaching down to grab at his ass. House's eyes widen and he *grins* at him, quirking a brow as he feels a complete lack of lace beneath the skirt.

 

"Oh-ho," he says. "I didn't know I had such a naughty boy in my hands. Going around without panties? Really?"

 

"Mr. House," he breathes out, desperate.

 

"I was already planning on spanking you," he says, his other hand going through his blond locks, tugging at them from time to time, making his eyes roll back in pleasure, shuddering against his hold on him. "But that whorishness just added a few more to it. Bend over my desk, Robert. *Now*."

 

The use of his first name somehow makes him even more aroused. It feels a lot more like he's a teacher with that— if he had called him Chase it would've broken the spell a little, and Mr. Chase just seems awkward. So *Robert* is hitting all his buttons.

 

"Yes sir," he breathes out before bending over the dining room table. House doesn't really have a desk, so this will have to do.

 

House hikes his skirt up and rubs his hand against his ass, knuckles against one of his ass cheeks, making him go pliant against the table, eyes fluttering shut as he relaxes. He knows, logically, that's House's plan— to lower his defenses before hitting him and hitting him hard. But that doesn't mean he can't indulge in it.

 

"So," House starts. "You've had five unsatisfactory grades in my class this semester." He pinches at the skin of his ass, making him yelp out. "And you're going around without panties, flashing anyone if you walk fast enough. I think fifteen will do nicely for this. What do you think, boy?"

 

Chase shudders, a whimper escaping his mouth. "Whatever punishment you see fit will work for me, sir," he says airily.

 

"Good boy," he praises, his tone mockful. "So fifteen. You have to count, and thank me for each and every one of them. Understood?"

 

"Yes, sir," he breathes.

 

The strikes come in quick succession. House only pauses to allow him to count and thank him. By the end of it, he's shaking, breathing hard, tears sliding down his cheeks as he clings onto the corners of the table.

 

"Th-thirteen, thank you sir!" he cries out.

 

"Good boy," he says, in a tone that isn't soothing at all, not even rubbing his ass to help him relax for a second. "You're almost done, little slut."

 

*Smack!* He yelps at it, a sob leaving his mouth as he feels the pain thrum on his backside; he knows he won't be able to sit down comfortably for a while, with how hard House is hitting. Worse, even, is how much he's getting off on it, dripping onto the dining room table. "Fourteen, thank you — thank you sir," he breathes, voice shaking.

 

"One last one and then you'll get me off, alright, whore?"

 

"Yes sir," he breathes out, dizzy with arousal.

 

The last hit is the worst, House putting all his strength behind him, making his knees buckle with how much pain he's in for a brief second. "Fif-fifteen, sir," he cries out.

 

"And?" he asks, expectant, even as he's struggling, tears sliding down his cheeks.

 

"Thank— thank you, sir," he breathes out.

 

"What did you learn?"

 

He really does sound like a stern teacher.

 

"T-to— to do better in your class, sir."

 

House grabs him by the hair, gives a harsh tug that forces his head up. "*And?*"

 

"And— and to n-not be a whore, sir."

 

"Well, not exactly," House says as he pulls him off the desk. "You can't be a whore around other students. This *is* a Catholic school, anyhow." His look darkens, and Chase has to resist the urge to press his thighs together. "But around me? You're going to have to learn just how slutty you can be." He pulls him in for a messy kiss, all teeth and tongue, before pulling away abruptly. Chase squeaks. "On your knees, doll."

 

Chase can feel himself pulse with arousal, but he knows he's not the priority right now as he sinks down to his knees.

 

"I'll grade your technique," he says casually as he pulls his pants and boxers down. "If it's less than satisfactory, I guess you'll get another spanking. So on and so forth, until you satisfy me. Understood?"

 

Chase whimpers, a little sound that overwhelms his ears with how *desperate* he sounds. He didn't expect to get so into this, as stereotypical and ridiculous as it is.

 

"Yes, sir," he breathes out.

 

He leans forward and starts stroking House to hardness, his stomach clenching with arousal, too deep into his headspace to even think, slowly starting to suck at his cock, eyes fluttering shut as he bobs his head up and down, working at his shaft. There's a fine line of drool dribbling down his chin, and House's hand on the back of his neck, prohibiting him from going and taking a breather, only further complicates his situation and just how ridiculously wet he is.

 

He slowly makes his way down to the base of House's cock, hollowing his cheeks around him, relaxing as he sucks him off. House lets out those little groans and moans that only spur him on further, that tell him, *yes, you're doing a good job.* It's precisely the encouragement he needs as he works on his cock for what feels like hours, until he gets the reward of House's warm come down his throat, no option but to swallow it all as House presses firmly against the back of his neck.

 

Soon enough, he's allowed to pull off his cock, cleaning his chin with his arm and looking up at House, still dazed. "What's my grade, sir?" he asks, voice rough and a little raspy.

 

"Hm." House pets his hair for a second or two. "I'd say a B plus. There's certainly room for improvement, but it's nothing bad. You won't have to get another spanking. In fact, I'd say I'm going to pleasure you myself."

 

Chase's eyes widen, and he resists the urge to nearly leap in joy. "Really, sir?"

 

"Yes," he says. "Get on the desk, doll, I'll eat you out."

 

Chase obeys, whimpering as he spreads his legs, skirt hiked up over his torso. House immediately leans down, getting as comfortable as he can in his position before leaning in to eat him out.

 

The ecstasy that follows is exquisite, moans escaping his mouth as he clings onto the table for support. He cries out, grinding up against House's mouth desperately, unable to resist himself from moving, desperate for more and more, more friction, more touch.

 

House ends up digging his nails into his hips, pushing him down as much as he can, keeping him as still as possible as he dives deep into his cunt, licking into him, his thumb brushing up against his t-dick, hard, until Chase *comes*, a moan leaving his mouth as he releases, going slack against the table.

 

When House pulls away, he's grinning. "Well, that didn't look like indulging a fantasy to me."

 

The spell is broken, but it's about time it is. He lets out a shaky breath and flips him off. "Shut *up*, House."

 

House leans down to kiss his cheek. "I'll get the bath ready? Lotion?"

 

"Mmhm," he agrees. "Just lemme— lemme recover for a second."

 

House chuckles. "Of course, doll." A pause. "I guess we'll be doing this again?"

 

He hates to admit it, but he slowly gives up and says, "Yeah. You can count on it."