This is part 3 of a story that was meant to be a kinky little one-shot! I've been working on a long story with Tailkinker (my favorite stalker, tee hee) and I needed to write something a bit different again before I got back to Season 2 of the Collarverse ... so I dived into the Closetverse! Despite the long gap between writing the chapters, this one begins minutes after chapter 2 ends.

The last buttplug Wilson had got out of the bathroom closet was one he'd only used once before. House had called it the "Gutpuncher". Not when Wilson had lubed it and pushed it inside him: then he'd wept and jerked like a puppet with twisted strings and eventually come like a geyser. The next day, and then again a couple of days afterward, he'd asked Wilson, quietly and hesitantly "You're not going to use the Gutpuncher again?"

But he hadn't got rid of it. The thing still lay at the back of his closet, a brutal engine that made Wilson smile each time he'd opened the closet door and looked inside; because if House really hadn't wanted the Gutpuncher again, he would had got rid of it months ago. It wasn't just the width, but the length that made it so brutal; it was obviously very hard for House to take.

The mouthpiece of the third gag was a long one. Wilson showed it to House while he was still plugged with the feeding-tube. "This one is meant to give you practice in deep-throating." House's eyes widened. He couldn't see the Gutpuncher where Wilson had laid it down, and Wilson grinned, thinking about it.

He took out the feeding gag at the end of the hour, telling House soothingly what a good boy he was, how well he'd taken his meal. He gave House a little water, and got him on his belly over the coffee-table to take out the second butt-plug. When House was empty and naked except for his collar, Wilson got him to sit down on the floor between his legs, and finished off his own meal, before putting the leftovers away in the fridge. They might eat them later as a midnight snack.

Wilson had pilfered the bag of liquid food from the hospital, but he could buy in supplies. It would actually be good for House to get regular, nourishing meals. Wilson was getting hard again just thinking about it: making a regular date to fit House with the feeding tube gag and fill his belly with food. They could even do it in Wilson's office, though they didn't usually have sex at work - but this wouldn't really be sex, it would be for House's own good. If he did that, he wouldn't use the buttplugs, or make House be naked. Just make him kneel down by Wilson's chair and gag him and fill him.

House hadn't moved or spoken since Wilson let him sit between his legs, but when Wilson sat down on the couch again and reached for the gag, he looked up and offered a blowjob: silently, unusual for House, but quite obviously, using his lips and tongue.

"No," Wilson said gently. "I want this." He fitted the gag around House's head, and slid the mouthpiece in. He tilted House's face to the right angle, and slid the mouthpiece just a bit further in, pulled it out again, amusing himself with this for a few minutes, fucking House's mouth with the gag. He locked the mouthpiece at a safe length - it would hold down House's tongue but not block his throat, and for the first time this evening, let House see the Gutpuncher.

The wail House made was audible even through the gag. He was shaking all over, shaking his head, but his hands stayed down. His eyes were full of tears. He looked at Wilson desperately, muffled grunts of distress coming through the gag. Wilson smiled at him, and shifted his position a little, so House could see how hard he was getting. House had been in a state of quivering arousal for hours, his cock rising and falling but never actually going soft: the Gutpuncher would make him come. House knew it.

For this they'd use the sofa. Wilson folded House like a big doll, petting him and stroking him and telling him he was a good boy. He stuffed his ass with thick lube, and lubed up the Gutpuncher. Squealing wordless grunts came out of House's plugged mouth as Wilson slid the massive tool inside him, slowly, making him feel every inch. It was like impaling House, making him a flesh doll that was stuck onto this thing and had no choice but to wriggle and cry.

The Gutpuncher came with a harness - an easy one to get out of, just intended to hold the thing inside physically. Wilson strapped it into House and lay down beside him on the sofa and put his arms round him. He was still wearing suit and tie and would have to send it to the drycleaner's after this, but he was too eagerto feel House, impaled at both ends, to worry about that right now.

Wilson was looking right into House's blue, panicked eyes. He smiled at House, feeling him quiver at the weight of the Gutpuncher inside him. He unlocked the gag mouthpiece and pushed it deeper, grinning at House fought to keep his head at the right angle. He petted him and praised him, feeling him jerk and twist and each move shifted the massive dildo in his guts, and finally he spilled, messing up Wilson's trousers and shirt. He was lying still, limp all over, and Wilson undid the gag and unharnessed and slid out the Gutpuncher.

Making House get up and walk in this state wasn't difficult, but it was tricky keeping him upright: he'd fall readily, not seeming to notice if he hurt himself. Wilson got him to the bedroom. He undressed himself and picked up a paddle - fucking House would be boring when he was in this state - and positioned House over his own lap. He wanted to see House's pale butt reddened up, and told him so, not bothering with a scolding which House wouldn't remember in the morning. But even in this state a hard paddling could make House twitch and cry, and that would be enough to get Wilson his second orgasm of the evening.

Wilson came with his cock pressed against House's belly, House wrapped around Wilson, soaking the bed with tears. Wilson lay down and pulled the covers over them both, holding a limply exhausted House in his arms. "That was great," he told House.

"Please..." House whispered: Wilson was surprised he could still speak. "Don't use the gutpuncher again..."

Wilson smiled, hugging House closer. The Gutpuncher was actually just a training exercise. House took it very well.

Next time, Wilson was going to fist him.

end