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English
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Part 2 of Allison Cameron's Journal
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Published:
2008-09-16
Completed:
2008-09-16
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Six Months of Fantasies

Summary:

After House violated Cameron's privacy, he attempts to make up for it by presenting her with a new journal. However, something's changed and the new journal investigates another side of Cameron.

Notes:

Part of the same AU segment as "Fifteen Years on Paper".

Chapter 1: January 2008

Chapter Text

Entry #1
House -

You gave me this journal, so it makes sense to write the entries to you. Anything I write here, however, is to stay between the two of us. I am giving you a view into a very private side of my life, (granted one in which you have suddenly become a rather significant part) and if you can't respect the boundaries, I will stop writing in here.

This journal will contain entries on any number of things: what we do, my dreams, my feelings, my fantasies. (I'll wait while you daydream for a minute.)

I'm emotional, you know this, so if you don't think you'll be able to handle it, that's fine, but if you continue reading, it's your choice.

When we're together, I'll tell you if I don't like something (it'll also be written here), but that doesn't mean that I won't do that something again if you enjoy it. As long as you bear in mind that if it is beyond my boundaries, I have the right to refuse. There aren't many things on my 'absolutely never' list (those things that I won't even try), but there are a lot of things on my 'at least once' list, not to mention several things on the 'absolutely yes' list (we've actually done a couple of these already).

I also want you to know that betraying my trust really hurt me - emotionally. I'm mostly over it, but thought you should know that there will still be some things that I won't tell you until you earn them. I'm not angry at you anymore (obviously), your insufferable snooping gave me the mental push I needed to get through some things. For that I thank you. I know that wasn't your intention, but it happened.

In addition, I want you to know that my door is always open to you (figuratively and sometimes literally). If you want to talk, I'll listen. Feel free to write things down in here too if you want. They won't go outside these pages. Only you and I will know they're here.

Cameron


January

Dream #1 - Dreaming of you-

I dreamed of you last night. I'm working in the lab and you come in, drag me out of the lab and into an empty patient room. I want you to ravish me, but you don't. You go slow. Slow touches, slow kisses, soft and gentle and driving me absolutely fucking crazy.

The more I try to make you go faster - tugging at the buttons on your shirt, pulling at your hair or neck - the slower you get. It's the most amazingly frustrating thing in the world. And just when I think you're about to take me hard and fast -

The scene switches and we're running a DDx, only Chase and Foreman are big lab retrievers. The ideas they offer pretty much suck, but you don't seem to mind. Of course, that could be because you have your hand up my shirt the whole time, while doggy!Chase and doggy!Foreman just tilt their doggy heads at you quizzically.


Entry #2
The other night was really hot. I mean really hot. We absolutely have to do that again. Have I mentioned I rather enjoy being restrained? And having sex? And kissing you?

Okay. I'll stop being girlie for a minute.

Tasting you, having you in my mouth, was amazing. It's powerful to be there, doing that, knowing that it's because of me. It's also submissive. You could move away or grab my head at any time and do whatever you want. I like it. Even if I haven't had much opportunity recently to do it. I miss it.

About Sarah. Thank you. I know, you hate this emotional stuff, but she's my sister. And I haven't let myself be emotional like that about her since she died. I wasn't sure I was allowed. It's a long story, you'd have to understand about my parents and what it was like. I'm not getting into it here because that's not what this journal is for, but if you earn it, I will tell you.


Entry #3
Okay, seriously, it's kind of creepy to wake up to your boss sitting in your room.

You made me forget my dream, so now you don't get one here.

That sandwich was gross, but the other 'gift' - intriguing. It's still sitting on the nightstand. And I still think you're crazy. Not that I won't do it, just that you're nuts. Wearing it to work makes me a little nervous, but there's some excitement in there too.

Where the hell do you get some of these ideas? I know a couple were mine, but... you know what. I don't think I actually want to know. Just keep making it interesting.


Fantasy #1
About the fantasies: These aren't requirements. They're ideas. Meant to promote creative thinking and spark other ideas for play. Mostly likely, I won't mind acting them out, but if they're marked with 'Ask First', please ask me before launching into it.

------

Ask First - You've shoved me under your desk - it's after hours, so it's dark and most everyone's gone - your hand is coiled in my hair, guiding my head to suck you off. It's cramped and tiny, but so erotic. Especially when I hear the door to your office hiss open, then Stacy's voice huskily growling at you about spending too much time at work.

"I'm busy," you respond and tap my cheek as you draw yourself from my mouth. Your hand shifts to tuck back into your pants. Once you're in, I work on fastening them so you can look mostly normal while Stacy's strutting across the floor toward your desk.

 

"You're always busy," she retorts and I can just imagine her hands on her hips.

You shift your hips in the chair as I get your pants zipped and you're leaning forward, cramping the tiny space I do have. "Medicine doesn't stop because it's inconvenient."

Stacy sighs acquiesence. "I know that, Greg -" she's the only one who always calls you 'Greg'. "-but," there's a pause where she's obviously doing something you like, "I need you," she hisses.

I hear you grunt and watch your hips shift on the chair. You were hard, but now you're harder - and I'm jealous because it's a reaction to Stacy. Then I see Stacy's long legs step around the desk. She's right there, she could see me if I moved at all, so I freeze.

Your large hands move out of my sight for a moment, then Stacy's legs are dangling over the edge of the desk, close enough that if she were to swing them, she'd kick me in the face. I hear her moaning softly - you must be touching her - and I'm jealous again, because this was supposed to be my time and she's stealing it.

Then you move your chair back and I'm afraid you're going to make me leave, but you don't. You proceed as though I'm not even there. You're on your feet and unzipping your fly – I never got it buttoned – then drawing out your cock, stroking it smoothly. It takes every ounce of restraint not to touch or taste you myself.

I lick my lips watching you as you step forward and penetrate Stacy – who I assume is laying back on the desk. My eyes widen in shock as I watch her legs disappear from sight, presumably propped on the desk or wrapped around your hips.

I can hear her moaning, you grunting while you fuck her. The desk shakes and I watch your legs stiffen as you come, spilling inside Stacy instead of me. I'm not jealous now, I'm angry. That was for me. I'm seething so hard I don't realize that Stacy's dressed and gone until I hear the hiss of the door again and feel the pull of your hand in my hair.

"Clean me," you command.

"Wha-?" I ask, gasping at you.

"Use your hot mouth and that wicked tongue and clean my dick." You shove my head toward you – the glistening slickness of Stacy's arousal and orgasm coating your cock.

I lean in, hands on your thighs, and take your cock into my mouth. The taste is odd – a combination of you and Stacy, or what must be Stacy, because it's not you. It's not a bad taste, just different. After a moment the taste no longer matters and I'm only concentrating on sucking you. I love sucking you – the sounds you make, the things you do.

You moan your pleasure. "That's it. My dirty little girl. My dirty little girl who likes to suck dick. Good girl."

One of the things I like is that you tend to get mouthy – not in a bad way, but after a while it gets repetitive. To be honest, I'm not always paying attention, but what I hear, turns me on. If you do it just right, it boosts my enthusiasm.

"Did you like that, slut? Listening to me fuck another woman?" You wait for my nod. "Did you enjoy sucking her taste from my dick?" Another nod from me. "Would you like to bury your nose in her pussy and taste her?"

My eyes blink open and I look up at you, your cock still in my mouth, I shake my head in the negative. I am not at all interested in lesbian sex – been there done that, wasn't impressed.

You frown at me. "Too bad. That'd be really hot."

In a desperate attempt to distract you, I drag just the edges of my teeth along the skin of your cock. For my effort, I get a deep, satisfied groan, plus your hand in my hair again.

You tug my face off your cock and snarl down at me, "Oh, you are a bad, bad girl, aren't you?"

I nod at you, licking your taste from my lips.

"You know you've done something bad, don't you?" Your fingers move from my hair to pinch my chin.

I bite my lip and nod lightly. I'm not supposed to use my teeth on your cock unless you ask.

You push your chair back and just look at me while tucking yourself back in again. That look, I know what it means. I don't need to be told. If I wait for you to tell me, it's worse.

I wriggle myself from beneath the desk, then fold myself across the top of it where I can only assume Stacy lay moments ago. A full minute later I feel your warm, calloused fingers brushing the skin of my thighs, pushing my skirt up over my butt, high up on my hips. You're going to spank me, but I'm not allowed to enjoy it.

"I hurt my hand the last time, so we're going to trying something new," you growl from behind me.

I hear movement, but I'm not allowed to look. The rules are – if I'm bad, you can punish me however you'd like and I'm not allowed to do or say anything. The movement continues – I still don't know what you're doing – then there's a sharp crack as something very much not your hand strikes my skin.

I make no sounds – another of the rules, if I'm bad, I'm not allowed to make noise – as I continue to be spanked. After the third crack, I realize you're using your leather belt. It hurts – stings in fact – but it's turning me on, a lot. You're going to be angry, because I'm not supposed to react at all, but you've never hit me with the belt before...

------

Okay, maybe I'm getting a little carried away with this fantasy thing, but that was really hot. And it is just a fantasy. Thinking about it doesn't mean I have to do it. Doesn't make it any less hot though.


Dreaming of work-
I've had this weird recurring dream about being promoted to the head of immunology. Wilson's figured out that you and I are seeing each other in some capacity and he stops in to give me a little 'Don't hurt my House' speech. It's kinda sweet. And he doesn't warn me away, but he does warn me that if I hurt you, I'm in trouble and he'll be angry. So I promise not to hurt you. I would never hurt you.

The last time I had that dream, I also had a dream about us running a DDx on a ferret, only you were a zebra. I don't know why, but we did save the ferret.


Fantasy #2
You come to my place in the middle of the night. You don't have to pick the lock because I've left the door open. I'm in the bath and it takes you a little while to find me, so you're a little angry and grouchy, but mostly, you're horny because you've been thinking about what you want to do to me. From the looks of things, I'm soon to find out what that is.

Or, so I thought until you see me in the tub, bubbles up to my neck. Instead of whatever you had planned, you strip down and climb in with me. This - not a bad thing.

You're sitting behind me, arms curled around to capture my breasts and I lean against you, my head on your shoulder and we're just - sitting. Relaxing. Touching. And mmmmm.


Entry #4
At work? Are we insane? And just how the hell did we not get caught?

It was completely your fault though - buzzing that thing against my sensitve clit. I already want you nearly every minute of the day, but to have you toy with me like that... cranks it up a notch or ten. Which will only make you do it again - or more.

But - oh, wow. That was hot. What the hell did you do to me? I think you've unleashed something. I can't say that I don't like it, but it's certainly, different.

You asked me if I enjoyed doing it - sucking you off - I did. I do. I never did before, but you, yeah. Maybe it's because I know you enjoy it so much. That makes a big difference. I love the way you feel in my mouth. The way the soft skin slides over my tongue and how you get harder when I start to tease you. I know you like what I do, because you thrust into my mouth. You taste... like you smell - something heady and masculine, but with something else there, not your soap, probably the Vicodin, whatever it is, I like it. It's you.

Though, my knees hurt from that damned floor. We need cushions if we're going to do that again.


Entry #5
I didn't think this would bother me at all, but so many days with nothing... you're killing me. Is there a 12-step program for quitting your boss?

Chase and Foreman don't understand why I like you. Hell, you don't understand it. To be honest, I don't either. That doesn't mean I want to pass up the opportunity to try something. Okay, we should both take a morality check, but I can't seem to bring myself to ask you to stop. It's been a long time since it was this good. Plus, you like to play in my fantasies. No one's ever really wanted to do that before. You're not afraid to try things. I like that about you. even if I have probably scared you off now


Fantasy #3
I have quite a few toys in my collection, one of them prompted this little tidbit, since I bumped into it digging in my closet last night:

You're sitting in that chair in my room, watching me bend over to dig in the back of the closet. In your own special way, you're 'appreciating' the view. When I stand up, I have a metal bar about three feet long with metal rings on either end and two metal rings in the center.

I turn around to find you gazing at the object with an inquisitive expression. So, of course, you ask what it is and I tell you it's a 'spreader bar'. This prompts several comments from you, followed by an excited query of 'how does it work?' as your long fingers reach out and wave for me to let you see it. I hand it over as I explain it's workings and watch your eyes light up with the possibilities you see.

The very next sentence from you is a question, wanting to know where the wrist and ankle cuffs are so you can try it out. Instead of retrieving them for you, I point to a small chest in the corner and let you choose for yourself. There are any number of 'toys' in the box, not just the cuffs, and watching you sift through them is almost as much fun as playing with them.

When you get back from your exploration, you have wrist and ankle cuffs and a vibrator. Nice choices. You spend time caressing my skin as you strap each of the cuffs in place, then gently turn me around, facing away from you, and press your hand against my back, instructing me to bend forward. You kneel behind me to lock the ankle cuffs to the ends of the spreader bar, then, instead of standing and walking around, you reach through, between my legs, to gather my wrists and lock them to the bar as well. I couldn't be any more vulnerable or exposed to you than I am right now.

My entire body shudders when I feel your tongue touch me and your hands on my thighs. I love your hands...

I think you have enough imagination to see where this will lead, so I'll leave you to it.


Entry #6
Oops! If Brenda had been any more observant, we'd be in some serious trouble. What do you plan to bribe her with? Showing up to clinic duty on time?

That aside, holy - wow. Can we do lunch like that at least once a week? Forget the driving part where you nearly drove into that snowbank because you had your hand creeping up my skirt, or that we looked ridiculous trying to shuffle up to my apartment because you couldn't unglue your lips from my neck, the sex was fucking amazing! Do you do it like that every time?

With the hope that you don't stop doing it - standing against the wall is one of my favorite positions. Not sure how you and your leg managed that much strength and power without me having to carry you back to work, but I am not complaining.

Making you angry with me (while not actually part of the plan) was just about the sexiest thing since Wolverine. Maybe it shouldn't be, but it was. I like it when you're like that - forceful and dominant. It turns me on.