Tritter/Chase
Title: How he gets what he wants
Author: Rachel
Warnings: RAPE! If you don't want to read anything about rape, don't read this!
Spoilers: Finding Judas
Disclaimer: don't own
Pairing(s): Tritter/Chase
“There’s no reason for me to be here,” Chase said angrily, his arms crossed protectively across his chest and his eyes glaring through strands of hair. “I know Wilson already sold House out. We all do. It’s over, isn’t it?”
Detective Tritter kept reading the folder he had open, and Chase shifted uncomfortably in the silence that followed his question. He tried to peer over at what Tritter was reading without making it obvious that he was doing so, but Tritter seemed to have noticed, and slapped the file shut. “It’s not over yet, Dr. Chase.”
Chase waited for further explanation, but apparently Tritter had finished and moved on to staring intently at Chase, as if searching for something. Chase shifted again, waiting. “So…what do you need from me?”
Tritter smiled. Chase felt a sudden rush of dread in his gut, something in the way the detective smiled made his insides clench up. A premonition, as if something horrible was about to happen. The last time he had gotten one of those, his father had left and never come back. He thought vaguely of escape, but dismissed the idea as unfounded and ridiculous just as quickly. Tritter stood up, almost lazily, and shut the door so that the lock clicked shut. Chase, the knotting in his insides now too much to bear, stood up as well, the idea of escape no longer as ridiculous.
“Listen, I…I’ve got to get going…patients and…and the like.” Chase began to move for the door, but Tritter stepped in front of it.
“We’re not done here, Dr. Chase. I’d like to make another deal with you. I’d think you’d want to…considering what happened to you just yesterday with Dr. House.” Instinctively, Chase’s hand brushed his bruised jaw, and Tritter grinned.
“No, I…I’ve really got to…” He made a vague gesture towards the door as his voice trailed off.
Without warning, Tritter rushed forward and slammed Chase up against the wall, so that a forearm held Chase against the wall to prevent escape and the other hand grasped tightly at his hip. Tritter’s leg was thrust in between Chase’s thighs, keeping him pinned tightly. Chase was too surprised to struggle for a few seconds, and when he finally came to, he was hopelessly trapped. Tritter was bigger and stronger and better trained than Chase, and Chase had no hope. Tritter said nothing, even after Chase had stopped trying to escape, but he brought one hand to Chase’s chin and yanked Chase’s face upwards so that Chase was forced to look Tritter in the eye. Tritter squeezed his hand over Chase’s bruised jaw, tighter and tighter, until Chase couldn’t bear it anymore and let out a pained cry.
“What’re you-gah!” Chase yelled again as Tritter pressed his bruise still harder. “I-I haven’t done anything!”
Tritter stopped squeezing and stared at Chase, his hand still tilting Chase’s face upwards. Chase, too uncomfortable and scared to look Tritter in the eye, tried to look anywhere else, and found himself staring at the locked door. “Dr. Chase.”
At the sound of his name, Chase involuntarily let out a low whimper. “I haven’t done anything,” he protested again, his voice now a weak whine that sounded pathetic even to himself.
“I know,” Tritter said, comforting, as if to reassure Chase. He let go of Chase’s face and ran a hair gently through Chase’s hair, moving the strands out of Chase’s face.
“Please, can I go?”
Instead of answering, Tritter reached into his coat and produced a pair of handcuffs. He smiled again, calculating.
“Am I arrested? But I haven’t done anything wrong! I haven’t!” Chase gave a weak attempt to extricate himself from Tritter’s grip, but it made no difference, he remained trapped under Tritter’s weight.
“You’re not under arrest, no.”
Chase took a minute to try to comprehend what Tritter was saying. He looked from the handcuffs, held threateningly near his face, to Tritter, and back. He felt panic rising from his gut to his chest, but he still didn’t understand what was happening, he wasn’t arrested, but yet Tritter was going to handcuff him, it didn’t make any sense.
“Put your hands behind your back, Dr. Chase.” Tritter eased off, and Chase stumbled upon having to support his own weight. He automatically obeyed the command, a police officer, handcuffs, being told what to do, it was all in the movies, cops arresting people like this, and he listened, he listened. Tritter moved Chase over about a foot, pulling him so that his back was against a pipe, and before Chase knew what had happened, his hands were handcuffed behind his back. In surprise, Chase tried to move his arms, and after banging them against the pipe a few times, found that he was trapped again.
“Hey, what…what is this?” He was more frantic now, this had to be some kind of joke, some evil kind of prank that an angry man like Tritter would play, but that panic was still rising, and he banged the handcuffs against the pipe and strained against the restraints and tried to wiggle his hands out from the cuffs. All the while, Tritter watched, his face impassive, and Chase began to feel afraid. His breathing was coming out choked, ragged, and his chest was tight, fear and panic and confusion all taking hold of his lungs at once, pushing the air out of them. He began to struggle with all his strength, straining against the restraints until his wrists were burning and he could barely breath anymore, and then he collapsed in exhaustion to his knees, sinking down and letting his torso fall forward until his wrists strained against the cuffs.
“Dr. Chase,” Tritter said. Chase gave a loud sobbing gasp at Tritter’s voice, and pulled meaninglessly against the restraints. Tritter knelt down in front of Chase and put a hand on his shoulder. Chase tensed, shuddering, but didn’t pull away, didn’t have the strength. “Dr. Chase.” Chase didn’t respond. “Can you stand up for me?”
Chase was quiet, and then, almost imperceptibly, he shook his head.
“I’ll ask you one more time,” Tritter said, voice firm, sounding as if he were talking to a naughty child. “Stand-up.”
Chase’s breath shuddered, and he paused for longer this time before shaking his head again.
“Fine.” Tritter pulled Chase’s head up by his hair and backhanded his already bruised jaw. Chase cried out, his cry rattling with his breath, and he was left gasping in pain. “Get up.” Chase couldn’t move, couldn’t breath, but somehow he found himself still shaking his head no. Tritter stood up, and Chase looked at him as he rose, and Tritter was no longer impassive, but angry, and Chase felt afraid. “Get up.” Somehow, for some reason, he didn’t know why, Chase shook his head again. And this time, Tritter kicked him, his boot catching chase soundly in the ribs. Chase groaned, doubling over from the pain of it. “Now get up.”
Chase started to nod. “OK, OK, please, OK.” His voice was pleading, he was scared.
“Good boy.” Tritter helped hoist Chase up, Chase was shaking too hard to stand up very well himself, and his ribs were keeping him from moving without pain. Tritter cupped Chase’s face in his palm, softly. Chase’s breath was shaking. Tritter began to unfasten Chase’s pants, but this time, Chase knew better than to do nothing but whimper uselessly as Tritter forced his pants and boxers roughly down to his ankles. “That’s a good boy. Come on, now, Dr. Chase. This won’t be so bad.” And with that, Tritter sank to his knees, making sure to kneel on Chase’s pants so as to keep Chase’s legs in place. He put one hand over Chase’s limp dick and one hand in a firm grip on one of Chase’s hips. Chase tried to back away, but there was nowhere to go, and Tritter began to stroke.
“Please stop,” Chase whispered, too scared to speak in anything louder. Tritter didn’t answer. Against Chase’s will, his cock had become hard, and Tritter wrapped his mouth around it, and Chase cried out, confused and scared but aroused, and though he didn’t want it, he hated Tritter, he hated him, he couldn’t help his hard on. “Stop, stop it!” he yelled, beginning to bang his handcuffed hands against the pipe again. But Tritter didn’t stop, instead he grabbed one of Chase’s butt cheeks and squeezed, and his other hand and mouth kept pace on Chase’s cock. And without wanting to at all, without meaning to, Chase came, crying, “God, stop, please stop!” as he did.
Chase had closed his eyes upon orgasm, and didn’t open them, not when he heard Tritter move, and not even when one of his hands was released from the handcuffs.
“I told you it wouldn’t be so bad.”
Chase didn’t respond, didn’t even open his eyes.
“You liked it,” Tritter pressed.
“I didn’t! I hated it!” Chase realized how absurd it sounded, he had come, he’d had an orgasm, and he stumbled backwards, confused. “I hated it! I hated it!”
Tritter laughed. “You seemed like you liked it.”
Chase shook his head. “No! I hated it!”
“Come on, now. You want to tell me that you had an orgasm and didn’t enjoy yourself?”
“I-no. I didn’t. I didn’t.” Chase stared hopelessly at Tritter, as if asking for an answer.
Tritter grinned. “Come on now, Dr. Chase. It’s not fair that only you should get some pleasure out of this.”
Advancing quickly, he threw Chase forward onto the desk. Tritter handcuffed Chase’s hands to the other side of the desk so that he couldn’t escape and his body was laid out over the table. Chase was momentarily winded by the impact and shock, and couldn’t struggle against the one hand Tritter had heavy on his back. He heard Tritter begin to remove his belt, and then he began to scream for help. He hadn’t thought of screaming before, getting someone to save him, and once he realized he could do this, he screamed as loudly as he could. Tritter threw himself over Chase with all his weight, and Chase was caught airless again, but he could feel the hard on pressing into his thigh, and he kept yelling. Tritter yanked Chase’s tie loose and forced it into Chase’s mouth, but Chase fought back, trying to clench his teeth now, to force it out with his tongue, but it was hopeless, and soon the tie was stuffed into his mouth. He felt unable to breath, but he kept trying to scream for a full minute before he realized the futility. He heard the clink of Tritter’s belt as his pants hit the floor, and he buried his face into his arm.
“Have you ever done this before, Dr. Chase?” Chase didn’t move. He couldn’t. He was exhausted. “Dr. Chase. Have you ever had sex with a man before.” Chase didn’t move for another few moments, but when he heard Tritter’s annoyed sigh, he was scared again, and decided to answer. He nodded his head into his arm. Tritter gave a humorless laugh. “Slut,” he said. He kicked Chase’s legs apart as far as they would go and stepped onto the pants between his ankles. “Normally I’d prep you with a few fingers, “ Tritter said lazily, his hands skimming the surface of Chase’s ass, “but…” Before Chase had braced himself, Tritter ran a slick finger over his opening, and Chase shivered at the cold and disgust he felt. Then, without warning or ceremony, Tritter forced himself into Chase.
The pain was more intense than anything Chase had ever known, he felt himself being split in half, the pain was impossibly strong, his whole body was on fire. He tried to scream, but his own tie prevented him, and his mouth was so dry and fuzzy with fear and pain and dehydration. He couldn’t think, the pain was too much, and he bit down on the makeshift gag and clenched his fingers down over the handcuffs and strained his wrists against the restraints, trying to feel pain somewhere else, trying to forget the horrible pain. Tritter was clutching his hips and slammed forcefully, his cock feeling impossibly huge. Tritter thrust for a few minutes until Chase felt Tritter’s orgasm, Tritter’s nails digging deeper into Chase’s hips. He stayed inside Chase for a minute and then pulled out, his cum sliding hot and sticky out with him. Chase wanted to throw up.
Tritter didn’t speak as he first pulled his own pants back up, Chase could hear the clink of his belt, and then he pulled up Chase’s pants, zippering and buttoning as Chase lay limp and sick and weak on the desk. He unfastened Chase’s wrists and took the gag out of Chase’s mouth, and helped Chase slide to the ground, propping Chase’s body, too weak to stay up on its own, against the desk.
“Could I have water please?” Chase managed finally. His mouth was dry and prickly, he could still feel the tie wadded up in him, and he didn’t protest as Tritter tilted water down his throat. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Tritter said, and ran a hand gently through Chase’s hair.
Author: Rachel
Warnings: RAPE! If you don't want to read anything about rape, don't read this!
Spoilers: Finding Judas
Disclaimer: don't own
Pairing(s): Tritter/Chase
“There’s no reason for me to be here,” Chase said angrily, his arms crossed protectively across his chest and his eyes glaring through strands of hair. “I know Wilson already sold House out. We all do. It’s over, isn’t it?”
Detective Tritter kept reading the folder he had open, and Chase shifted uncomfortably in the silence that followed his question. He tried to peer over at what Tritter was reading without making it obvious that he was doing so, but Tritter seemed to have noticed, and slapped the file shut. “It’s not over yet, Dr. Chase.”
Chase waited for further explanation, but apparently Tritter had finished and moved on to staring intently at Chase, as if searching for something. Chase shifted again, waiting. “So…what do you need from me?”
Tritter smiled. Chase felt a sudden rush of dread in his gut, something in the way the detective smiled made his insides clench up. A premonition, as if something horrible was about to happen. The last time he had gotten one of those, his father had left and never come back. He thought vaguely of escape, but dismissed the idea as unfounded and ridiculous just as quickly. Tritter stood up, almost lazily, and shut the door so that the lock clicked shut. Chase, the knotting in his insides now too much to bear, stood up as well, the idea of escape no longer as ridiculous.
“Listen, I…I’ve got to get going…patients and…and the like.” Chase began to move for the door, but Tritter stepped in front of it.
“We’re not done here, Dr. Chase. I’d like to make another deal with you. I’d think you’d want to…considering what happened to you just yesterday with Dr. House.” Instinctively, Chase’s hand brushed his bruised jaw, and Tritter grinned.
“No, I…I’ve really got to…” He made a vague gesture towards the door as his voice trailed off.
Without warning, Tritter rushed forward and slammed Chase up against the wall, so that a forearm held Chase against the wall to prevent escape and the other hand grasped tightly at his hip. Tritter’s leg was thrust in between Chase’s thighs, keeping him pinned tightly. Chase was too surprised to struggle for a few seconds, and when he finally came to, he was hopelessly trapped. Tritter was bigger and stronger and better trained than Chase, and Chase had no hope. Tritter said nothing, even after Chase had stopped trying to escape, but he brought one hand to Chase’s chin and yanked Chase’s face upwards so that Chase was forced to look Tritter in the eye. Tritter squeezed his hand over Chase’s bruised jaw, tighter and tighter, until Chase couldn’t bear it anymore and let out a pained cry.
“What’re you-gah!” Chase yelled again as Tritter pressed his bruise still harder. “I-I haven’t done anything!”
Tritter stopped squeezing and stared at Chase, his hand still tilting Chase’s face upwards. Chase, too uncomfortable and scared to look Tritter in the eye, tried to look anywhere else, and found himself staring at the locked door. “Dr. Chase.”
At the sound of his name, Chase involuntarily let out a low whimper. “I haven’t done anything,” he protested again, his voice now a weak whine that sounded pathetic even to himself.
“I know,” Tritter said, comforting, as if to reassure Chase. He let go of Chase’s face and ran a hair gently through Chase’s hair, moving the strands out of Chase’s face.
“Please, can I go?”
Instead of answering, Tritter reached into his coat and produced a pair of handcuffs. He smiled again, calculating.
“Am I arrested? But I haven’t done anything wrong! I haven’t!” Chase gave a weak attempt to extricate himself from Tritter’s grip, but it made no difference, he remained trapped under Tritter’s weight.
“You’re not under arrest, no.”
Chase took a minute to try to comprehend what Tritter was saying. He looked from the handcuffs, held threateningly near his face, to Tritter, and back. He felt panic rising from his gut to his chest, but he still didn’t understand what was happening, he wasn’t arrested, but yet Tritter was going to handcuff him, it didn’t make any sense.
“Put your hands behind your back, Dr. Chase.” Tritter eased off, and Chase stumbled upon having to support his own weight. He automatically obeyed the command, a police officer, handcuffs, being told what to do, it was all in the movies, cops arresting people like this, and he listened, he listened. Tritter moved Chase over about a foot, pulling him so that his back was against a pipe, and before Chase knew what had happened, his hands were handcuffed behind his back. In surprise, Chase tried to move his arms, and after banging them against the pipe a few times, found that he was trapped again.
“Hey, what…what is this?” He was more frantic now, this had to be some kind of joke, some evil kind of prank that an angry man like Tritter would play, but that panic was still rising, and he banged the handcuffs against the pipe and strained against the restraints and tried to wiggle his hands out from the cuffs. All the while, Tritter watched, his face impassive, and Chase began to feel afraid. His breathing was coming out choked, ragged, and his chest was tight, fear and panic and confusion all taking hold of his lungs at once, pushing the air out of them. He began to struggle with all his strength, straining against the restraints until his wrists were burning and he could barely breath anymore, and then he collapsed in exhaustion to his knees, sinking down and letting his torso fall forward until his wrists strained against the cuffs.
“Dr. Chase,” Tritter said. Chase gave a loud sobbing gasp at Tritter’s voice, and pulled meaninglessly against the restraints. Tritter knelt down in front of Chase and put a hand on his shoulder. Chase tensed, shuddering, but didn’t pull away, didn’t have the strength. “Dr. Chase.” Chase didn’t respond. “Can you stand up for me?”
Chase was quiet, and then, almost imperceptibly, he shook his head.
“I’ll ask you one more time,” Tritter said, voice firm, sounding as if he were talking to a naughty child. “Stand-up.”
Chase’s breath shuddered, and he paused for longer this time before shaking his head again.
“Fine.” Tritter pulled Chase’s head up by his hair and backhanded his already bruised jaw. Chase cried out, his cry rattling with his breath, and he was left gasping in pain. “Get up.” Chase couldn’t move, couldn’t breath, but somehow he found himself still shaking his head no. Tritter stood up, and Chase looked at him as he rose, and Tritter was no longer impassive, but angry, and Chase felt afraid. “Get up.” Somehow, for some reason, he didn’t know why, Chase shook his head again. And this time, Tritter kicked him, his boot catching chase soundly in the ribs. Chase groaned, doubling over from the pain of it. “Now get up.”
Chase started to nod. “OK, OK, please, OK.” His voice was pleading, he was scared.
“Good boy.” Tritter helped hoist Chase up, Chase was shaking too hard to stand up very well himself, and his ribs were keeping him from moving without pain. Tritter cupped Chase’s face in his palm, softly. Chase’s breath was shaking. Tritter began to unfasten Chase’s pants, but this time, Chase knew better than to do nothing but whimper uselessly as Tritter forced his pants and boxers roughly down to his ankles. “That’s a good boy. Come on, now, Dr. Chase. This won’t be so bad.” And with that, Tritter sank to his knees, making sure to kneel on Chase’s pants so as to keep Chase’s legs in place. He put one hand over Chase’s limp dick and one hand in a firm grip on one of Chase’s hips. Chase tried to back away, but there was nowhere to go, and Tritter began to stroke.
“Please stop,” Chase whispered, too scared to speak in anything louder. Tritter didn’t answer. Against Chase’s will, his cock had become hard, and Tritter wrapped his mouth around it, and Chase cried out, confused and scared but aroused, and though he didn’t want it, he hated Tritter, he hated him, he couldn’t help his hard on. “Stop, stop it!” he yelled, beginning to bang his handcuffed hands against the pipe again. But Tritter didn’t stop, instead he grabbed one of Chase’s butt cheeks and squeezed, and his other hand and mouth kept pace on Chase’s cock. And without wanting to at all, without meaning to, Chase came, crying, “God, stop, please stop!” as he did.
Chase had closed his eyes upon orgasm, and didn’t open them, not when he heard Tritter move, and not even when one of his hands was released from the handcuffs.
“I told you it wouldn’t be so bad.”
Chase didn’t respond, didn’t even open his eyes.
“You liked it,” Tritter pressed.
“I didn’t! I hated it!” Chase realized how absurd it sounded, he had come, he’d had an orgasm, and he stumbled backwards, confused. “I hated it! I hated it!”
Tritter laughed. “You seemed like you liked it.”
Chase shook his head. “No! I hated it!”
“Come on, now. You want to tell me that you had an orgasm and didn’t enjoy yourself?”
“I-no. I didn’t. I didn’t.” Chase stared hopelessly at Tritter, as if asking for an answer.
Tritter grinned. “Come on now, Dr. Chase. It’s not fair that only you should get some pleasure out of this.”
Advancing quickly, he threw Chase forward onto the desk. Tritter handcuffed Chase’s hands to the other side of the desk so that he couldn’t escape and his body was laid out over the table. Chase was momentarily winded by the impact and shock, and couldn’t struggle against the one hand Tritter had heavy on his back. He heard Tritter begin to remove his belt, and then he began to scream for help. He hadn’t thought of screaming before, getting someone to save him, and once he realized he could do this, he screamed as loudly as he could. Tritter threw himself over Chase with all his weight, and Chase was caught airless again, but he could feel the hard on pressing into his thigh, and he kept yelling. Tritter yanked Chase’s tie loose and forced it into Chase’s mouth, but Chase fought back, trying to clench his teeth now, to force it out with his tongue, but it was hopeless, and soon the tie was stuffed into his mouth. He felt unable to breath, but he kept trying to scream for a full minute before he realized the futility. He heard the clink of Tritter’s belt as his pants hit the floor, and he buried his face into his arm.
“Have you ever done this before, Dr. Chase?” Chase didn’t move. He couldn’t. He was exhausted. “Dr. Chase. Have you ever had sex with a man before.” Chase didn’t move for another few moments, but when he heard Tritter’s annoyed sigh, he was scared again, and decided to answer. He nodded his head into his arm. Tritter gave a humorless laugh. “Slut,” he said. He kicked Chase’s legs apart as far as they would go and stepped onto the pants between his ankles. “Normally I’d prep you with a few fingers, “ Tritter said lazily, his hands skimming the surface of Chase’s ass, “but…” Before Chase had braced himself, Tritter ran a slick finger over his opening, and Chase shivered at the cold and disgust he felt. Then, without warning or ceremony, Tritter forced himself into Chase.
The pain was more intense than anything Chase had ever known, he felt himself being split in half, the pain was impossibly strong, his whole body was on fire. He tried to scream, but his own tie prevented him, and his mouth was so dry and fuzzy with fear and pain and dehydration. He couldn’t think, the pain was too much, and he bit down on the makeshift gag and clenched his fingers down over the handcuffs and strained his wrists against the restraints, trying to feel pain somewhere else, trying to forget the horrible pain. Tritter was clutching his hips and slammed forcefully, his cock feeling impossibly huge. Tritter thrust for a few minutes until Chase felt Tritter’s orgasm, Tritter’s nails digging deeper into Chase’s hips. He stayed inside Chase for a minute and then pulled out, his cum sliding hot and sticky out with him. Chase wanted to throw up.
Tritter didn’t speak as he first pulled his own pants back up, Chase could hear the clink of his belt, and then he pulled up Chase’s pants, zippering and buttoning as Chase lay limp and sick and weak on the desk. He unfastened Chase’s wrists and took the gag out of Chase’s mouth, and helped Chase slide to the ground, propping Chase’s body, too weak to stay up on its own, against the desk.
“Could I have water please?” Chase managed finally. His mouth was dry and prickly, he could still feel the tie wadded up in him, and he didn’t protest as Tritter tilted water down his throat. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Tritter said, and ran a hand gently through Chase’s hair.