A/N: I don't when I became so enamored of smut, but it seems to be a recurrent theme in my stories lately. So, for those as you who like that sort of thing, I hope I'm floating your boat. There is at least one plot point in this chapter, so it might be worth reading even if smut isn't your thing. Anyway, you've been warned. :D

Disclaimer: Don't Own, Etc.

The rest of Christmas Day consisted of a delicious dinner of pheasant with gravy, roasted vegetables, and shrimp fried rice.

After she "played" a while on her piano, Rachael went to bed, followed shortly by House and Cuddy heading to the bedroom.

"I'm willing to try . . . what you did before," Cuddy informed him.

"We should probably get some real restraints," House stated. He didn't actually care about that. Truth be told, he was stalling, trying avoid a repeat of Cuddy's meltdown from the previous night. He didn't think Cuddy would be heading to a sex shop tomorrow, and Wilson would be back on Saturday, so he would have to return to the apartment, thus avoiding the situation completely. He felt relieved until he realized what was going to happen. He'd be leaving Lisa Cuddy's bed for the one in the Amber shrine room. That empty, cold, lonely, scary bed.

He pulled Cuddy closer to him. "Can't we just lay here for a while?"

"Gregory House," Cuddy said incredulously, "If I didn't know any better, I'd swear you wanted to cuddle with me."

"You'd prefer I tie you up and humiliate you?" House asked, deflecting.

"You didn't humiliate me," Cuddy corrected him. "I became ashamed of something I shouldn't have."

"Stop with the 'should' and 'shouldn't' already!" House exclaimed in exasperation. "If you don't, I'll make you sit for an hour with my shrink and have him explain ad nauseam that our feelings are what they are and there are no value judgments attached to them."

"Well, that does sound like a punishment," Cuddy responded. "And not one I would enjoy."

House was about to ask what punishment she would enjoy when his cell phone rang. Cuddy got up, retrieved his pants, pulled his phone out of his pocket and handed it to him. They already knew it was Wilson because of the Dancing Queen ringtone.

"What?" House answered in irritation.

Cuddy could hear a voice on the other end, along with a lot of music and shouting.

"Uh, huh," House stated inarticulately. "How old are you? . . . You're not seriously asking for my approval, are you? . . . Yeah, sure, why not? . . . It's rainy season down there right now, so don't forget your rubbers . . . see you on the third."

"What?" Cuddy questioned.

"Well," House said, his voice choked with mock pride, "It seems our little boy is growing up. He met someone and he's staying in Florida for another week. In The Keys, to be exact."

"What about his appointments?" Cuddy said, snapping into administrator mode.

"He's already contacted his staff and they're splitting them up," House informed her. "Sounds like he's got it covered."

It took Cuddy only a few more minutes to realize that House could, and probably would want to stay for another week. She didn't give him a choice. "So, do you need to get more clothes for next week, or are you good with what you already have here?"

"We can go over and swap some things out tomorrow, if you don't mind," House replied. His mind was telling him he was one lucky bastard, and his heart, well, he just knew it wouldn't stop bouncing around his chest. This meant he could spend another week with Cuddy, including New Year's Eve. He decided that whooping for joy was probably not a cool response. Time to change the subject. "You know, if you're willing to improvise, we could probably try what we did last night. If you're sure . . . "

"Well," Cuddy thought, "How about we start and then if I can't do it, we stop?"

"You know what a safe word is, right?" House asked.

"Yes," Cuddy responded. "It's a word we agree on that I say when I want you to stop whatever you're doing."

"So, what do you want for your safe word?" House inquired

"Is it too weird to have 'Jimmy Choo' as my safe word?" Cuddy answered his question with one of her own.

"Well, I'm certainly no expert on things psychological, but as long as your shoe fetish doesn't interfere with your foot fetish, I'd say that works."

"Okay," Cuddy said with a little more than a trace of nervousness in her voice. "What are you going to use to . . . you know?"

"My charm and good looks, as always," House smirked.

"I mean . . . for the restraints," Cuddy's voice quivered slightly.

"I hope that's arousal and not fear, Cuddy," House remarked. "You know I would never hurt you."

"I'm not worried about you," Cuddy stated. "I'm much more concerned about my reaction."

"If you can't even imagine enjoying any part of this, Cuddy, then maybe we shouldn't do it," House observed.

"From what I've read," Cuddy noted, "It's one of the quirks of human nature that shame can actually heighten the sexual experience, or certainly the sexual response. If I can just get past trying to stop things, I should have one whale of an orgasm."

"What are we waiting for, then?" House asked, as he searched the room for suitable materials for restraints, "Get your clothes off."

Cuddy complied and lay on the bed.

"Move to the center," House commanded as he pulled out a used t-shirt from somewhere. He pulled Cuddy's hands together and tied them to the headboard. He found some other used clothing and tied each foot to its respective corner of the footboard.

House stood back to admire his work. "Why do I have this sense of déjà vu? Oh yeah, it's like every porno I've ever seen. Hot woman on display. I feel like there should be some awful music thumping in the background."

"I remind you of porn?" Cuddy questioned with hesitation.

"The pose does," House replied. "And the beautiful body, which is even more amazing when you consider that you've got twenty years on the women in those movies. You're different because you've got a lot more hair."

Cuddy's self esteem was doing great until that last sentence. "You don't like that? You want me to shave or wax?"

"Hell, no!" House exclaimed forcefully. "That's one of the things I dislike about porn. I know why they do it – so you can get a decent look at the goods and subsequent activities involving them. But it's weird because they're already young, and with a bare snatch, sometimes it feels like it borders on pedophilia. I like a grown-up woman with a nice patch of unruly hair. And a personality to match."

As House made this declaration, his fingers were combing through Cuddy's pussy hair.

"Umm," Cuddy responded. "This is really nice, but I want to try to . . . you know . . . like last night . . . "

"Where did you put the chocolate?" House asked.

"Um, if you want it, it's in the top drawer of the nightstand." Cuddy answered with a quavering voice.

"I don't need it, since my favorite flavor is pure, unadulterated Cuddy," House stated matter-of-factly. "Of course, now I want to know what else is in that drawer."

"House!" Cuddy hissed sharply, realizing her mistake. Now he would know about all her, um, things. And, of course, she was totally unable to stop him.

"Wow," House almost whistled as he began rummaging through her stuff. "This is one major vibrator. And glow-in-the-dark purple, no less. I guess it makes it easy to find on those long, lonely nights."

Cuddy knew she was in for some serious mocking now.

"What else do we have here?" House asked rhetorically. "It's an unopened package of edible panties. Cherry flavor. Why do you even have these? Trying to regain your virginity metaphorically by wearing them, Cuddy?"

"I got them as a gift for Lucas," Cuddy answered, her embarrassment continuing. "He thought I wanted him to wear them. He was such a doofus."

"Even after Mommy explained the birds and the bees to him, the package remained unopened," House observed slyly. "Why?"

"He was never really into things . . . oral, at least when it came to me," Cuddy replied vaguely, trying not to let her feelings of inadequacy show.

House stopped routing around in her drawer and climbed up on the bed between her legs. He dropped his head and gently brought his tongue from her perineum, covering her entire channel, dipping briefly inside her, all the way to her clit, giving that several delicate licks. "He was a doofus. And a complete idiot not to have enjoyed that lusciousness."

Cuddy smiled at the compliment as she caught her breath. House climbed back down and off the bed and continued his search. He held up a partially used tube of K-Y. "Don't tell me Lucas was a back-door man."

"No," Cuddy stated with irritation. "I don't know why I'm explaining this to you, but he was always pretty, um, eager, and he didn't always have enough time to get me into the proper, uh, state."

"Funny," House said with an evil grin, "I've never noticed you have that problem with me."

"You take more time with me," Cuddy noted. "And I start out a lot more, shall we say, ready."

House was already grinning at Cuddy's comment when he made what turned out to be his favorite discovery. "Whoa, what's this?" he asked as he removed two long feathers from the back of the drawer. His smile grew as he examined the objects. Each feather had one side that was stiff and the other was soft and fluffy. "Where did these come from, Cuddy?"

"I was out jogging and I found them on the path," Cuddy answered quickly, and completely unconvincingly.

"Even if you were jogging on a path in the Costa Rican tropical rainforest, I doubt you'd find any naturally occurring feathers that were neon pink, Cuddy," House observed wryly. "And the configuration of the vanes is like something out of Dr. Seuss. You bought these, and, I'm guessing, not at your friendly neighborhood craft store. You've visited an S-E-X shop, haven't you, Dr. Cuddy?"

Cuddy blushed a pink almost as bright as the feathers. "Yes," she admitted quietly.

"When?" House asked.

"When Lucas I and were together" Cuddy informed him. "I was getting tired of sex being of the wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am variety and I thought a few things might get his interest. No such luck."

"Well, these two items in particular have mine," House stated, holding up the feathers. "A bound, ticklish, gorgeous woman with a laugh like music and a moan like a foghorn, and two very versatile feathers. This is a slavemaster's wet dream."

With that statement, House seemed, to Cuddy, to decide the time for discussion was over. He began to move the feathers lightly all over her body. It was pleasant, almost relaxing to feel the soft sides of the feathers on her face, neck and the outsides of her arms and legs. It wasn't even bad on the inside of her forearms and lower legs. Feeling the feathers on the inside of her upper arms started to get a little tense. The sides of her torso were worse. Her armpits and her abdomen were worse still. When he used the feathers to tickle her breasts and her hip bones, she was writhing on the bed.

"Sorry to tell you this, Cuddy, but I've barely started with the torment," House let her know.

He pulled up a chair at the foot of the bed. "What do you think? Fifteen minutes on each foot? No, let's make it twenty." His face wore a devilish grin as he started in on the bottom of her helpless left foot.

He first used with the stiff side of the feather, moving it in soft strokes across her sole. Enough to get her attention, but not tickle her. Not really, she tried to convince herself. Her reflexes tried to get her foot away from the mildly unpleasant stimulation but the restraint wouldn't allow it. So, she hissed and her body wiggled instead. She also felt herself beginning to get wet.

Next it was the tip of the feather being stroked across the top of the ball of her foot. It hadn't reached her toes, yet, but it was ticklishly close. Then it was feeling the stiff side of the feather traveling between each of her toes. If House had a heavier hand, this almost might have hurt, but he was doing it so softly, it was driving her slowly insane. She finally stopped trying to hold back and began to giggle.

Encouraged by Cuddy's finally letting go, even if it was just a little bit, House turned the feather to the softer side. He began again at her heel, moving slowly and softly up the bottom of her foot. Cuddy's giggling became louder and she struggled even harder against the restraints.

"Okay, please stop now," Cuddy asked through her giggling.

House almost paused until he remembered her safe word. He hoped like hell that she remembered it and that she would use it if things became too much, rather than have a meltdown. He had reached the ball of her foot again. As he slowly stroked the soft side of the feather there, her toes curled up, her reflexes attempting to protect the sensitive spots.

House pulled her toes back, separating them with his fingers. He didn't know what came over him, but, when he saw her toes like that, completely exposed and vulnerable, he didn't use the feather, but started kissing them instead. Now, maybe it was a little (okay, a lot) ticklish when he started French kissing her toes with his tongue, but, still, it was way more sensuous than using a sex toy.

House realized after a couple of minutes that instead of laughing and writhing in discomfort, Cuddy was actually moaning with pleasure. As his mouth encountered every flavor and texture of Cuddy's foot, House became intoxicated. It was like eating potato chips; he just couldn't stop. As Cuddy's moaning grew louder, it brought him back, just a little. Unconsciously, he reached up to her center. She was soaking wet. Without stopping what he was doing to her feet, his finger began to lightly rub her clit.

Her entire body shuddered, even at just the first touch. He dipped his finger down to get some of her wetness and returned, using only slightly more pressure. Cuddy could feel her orgasm building quickly. "Oh, Greg, Oh Greg, Oohh, Greg," she moaned as her entire body was overtaken by the violent shaking of her orgasm.

Without even giving her the chance to recover, House began to kiss and lick the sole of her other foot, the feathers long forgotten as they fell off the bed and on to floor of Cuddy's bedroom. He devoured her right foot, stopping only for a moment to separate her curled up toes to attack them with his mouth. He had that same feeling that he had with her other foot. He couldn't, or didn't want, to stop. Her moans were once again the signal to do something. This time he reached inside her to pump her with his fingers in just the right place. His thumb found her clit and began to stroke it. She called out his name again as she went over the edge a second time.

House could feel his erection straining against his boxers, and his first impulse was to pull them off and start slamming hard into Cuddy, even before she settled down at all. Something in him, certainly not in his conscious mind, decided he would rather not do that.

He removed his boxers and climbed up on the bed and began touching Cuddy. His caresses were soft and lingered over any part of her he touched – her hair, her face, her neck and shoulders, her breasts, her abdomen. He lifted her up and brought his hands along her back. Even when he got to her ass, he massaged it caringly rather than giving it his usual hard squeeze. His hands traveled lightly down the backs of her legs, although Cuddy didn't find it the least bit ticklish. The same was true for her feet. It was the softest and most loving of touches. He moved up the front of her legs and let his hand rest on her mound.

"Are you ready for me, Lisa?" He asked gently.

Cuddy had come down from her orgasm and was processing what House was doing to her body. In a way, it puzzled her. She had thought he would be much rougher, especially since she could do nothing to stop him. But ever since he had stopped tickling her feet with the feathers and had begun to use his mouth on her toes, the entire tone of the encounter had changed. She had expected to be taken by him, but he was actually asking for her permission, or at least her agreement. As exciting as it would have been for him to just do it without considering her, this felt really good.

"Please, Greg. I want you," Cuddy replied softly.

House climbed between her legs and almost tenderly placed the tip of his cock against her opening. Cuddy's body was so sensitive at this point that she shivered involuntarily at the contact.

House hesitated for a split second until he saw the smile on her face. He eased himself into her little by little, allowing her body to adjust to his. He began to pull himself in and out of her slowly, letting the friction build between their bodies. Cuddy's mind became foggy with his ministrations, but a word formed in her head: delicate. Misanthropic, self-absorbed, blunt to the point of cruel Gregory House was being tender with her.

It took several minutes for them to climax. It was not as exciting as it had sometimes been between them, but it was the most emotionally intense orgasm either of them had ever felt.

As they came down from their high, Cuddy spoke first. "Please untie me," she requested.

House did and he was told, starting with her feet. Once her arms were freed and he lay next to her in bed, she reached for him and pulled him as close as she possibly could, resting her cheek against his. He responded by putting his arms tightly around her. She held him and wondered if he could feel the love she felt for him passing from her body into his.

She stopped wondering when she heard him sigh. A simple noise, yet so full of deep emotion, all the love they felt for each other captured in a single sound. No words were needed. They squeezed each other even more tightly as they drifted off to sleep.