Kinky
folder
CSI › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
8
Views:
5,274
Reviews:
7
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
CSI › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
8
Views:
5,274
Reviews:
7
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own CSI, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Prologue
Kinky by Fromgrissom
Rated: nc17
Pairings: G/S, C/W, eventually GSR
Warnings: Some Angst, Violence.
Spoilers: Set post-Butterflied, but many AU so nothing past that.
Summary: A serial killer who leaves his victims dressed in bondage gear. Lady Heather is asked to be ‘expert witness’. Grissom’s mom wants to spend the holidays with him. Then there is Sara. Why will nothing stay in the little boxes he puts them in?
Prologue
Run!
The surge of adrenaline suddenly penetrated the thick fog of intoxication giving her the impression that she had woken up running for her life. The echo of her high heels pounding on the concrete sounded loud and foreign in her ears. Tears streamed down her cheeks, blurring her already unstable vision. Keep going! She propelled herself onward with that thought, her drugged consciousness flashing between the alley and the room where He had done those things to her. Suddenly, steady footfalls reached her ears from behind her, increasing her terror to fever pitch. There was absolutely no doubt in her mind. In that instant she knew that He had found her, she knew it was hopeless. He had her, like before, except this time she would die. He had told her this is how it would end.
The desperate realisation made her suddenly aware of her precarious balance, causing her to wobble dangerously on her heels. She staggered on a few paces, arms flailing in the vain attempt to right herself, before her legs finally failed her. She fell forward, holding her hands out to break her fall and skinning her knees and palms. Her vision focused briefly on the deep, bloody lacerations on her wrists, her mind touching on a memory of herself, bound to a headboard, struggling to get free. She began to sob for the first time, pushing herself forward onto sore palms and trying to crawl away from the footsteps that kept coming slowly, steadily. He was in no rush. He knew the inevitability of her end as well as she did, the only difference was that He knew more of the specifics.
He watched as she scrabbled away, enjoying the panic rolling off her in waves. This was just how He had fantasised it would be. No. It was better. The sounds and smells of the alley, of downtown Vegas, made it all more real. He felt his arousal grow as He reached her, sprawled out but still trying to drag her uncooperative body away from him. Despite His frequent use of her, her fear for her life heightened His pleasure and enjoyment of the situation. He considered raping her again, out here in the open, at the scene, but quickly dismissed the idea. That was how people got caught. Amateurs. They acted impulsively instead of sticking to the plan. Besides, claiming her body sexually would not be the same as taking her life. It could only ever be the foreplay. This was the climax, the finale.
A well-aimed foot kicked her arms out from where she had been supporting her weight. Her forehead hit the concrete with a sickening thud, weakening her grip on consciousness and sending waves of nausea through her body. He grabbed her brunette hair and pulled her roughly back up onto her knees. She shook with fear, begging Him to let her go, but knowing all the time that it was useless. Her head throbbed, making it impossible to hold it up, so she found herself focusing on the black of her costume for the first time. The irrational thought entered her head that it would be her parents who found her, her mother disbelieving that she could have allowed herself to be abused by a man and her dead father secure in the knowledge that he had warned her of the dangers of being an easy little slut, and she would be unable to explain to them.
He walked around her until He was facing her, allowing her to see Him in all His glory for the first time. Her gasp was possibly the most erotic thing He had ever heard. He removed his knife from its sheath, deliberately testing its weight in His hand and watching the minute responses she was making. The weeks of planning that had gone into this, now it was time for Him to enjoy it, to soak up every detail so He could recall it in the future whenever He wanted. The moment was finally here. It all came down to this. He grabbed her roughly by the jaw, staring her right in the eye, hoping to somehow capture her final thought. Then He brought the blade up to her jugular. He felt His pulse race as He sliced through her throat in one smooth motion. Her blood splashed onto His costume and into His face, which He wiped away with a feral smile. This was better than He could ever have imagined. Blood lust overtook Him as he sliced into her flesh again and again until at last He was still, and He calmly wiped the blade clean and replaced it in its sheath.
He made some final adjustments to the scene, making sure everything was perfect for the authorities to find, then removed His mask and turned out of the alley onto the main road, blending in seamlessly with the Vegas masses as He strode out into the night.
Rated: nc17
Pairings: G/S, C/W, eventually GSR
Warnings: Some Angst, Violence.
Spoilers: Set post-Butterflied, but many AU so nothing past that.
Summary: A serial killer who leaves his victims dressed in bondage gear. Lady Heather is asked to be ‘expert witness’. Grissom’s mom wants to spend the holidays with him. Then there is Sara. Why will nothing stay in the little boxes he puts them in?
Prologue
Run!
The surge of adrenaline suddenly penetrated the thick fog of intoxication giving her the impression that she had woken up running for her life. The echo of her high heels pounding on the concrete sounded loud and foreign in her ears. Tears streamed down her cheeks, blurring her already unstable vision. Keep going! She propelled herself onward with that thought, her drugged consciousness flashing between the alley and the room where He had done those things to her. Suddenly, steady footfalls reached her ears from behind her, increasing her terror to fever pitch. There was absolutely no doubt in her mind. In that instant she knew that He had found her, she knew it was hopeless. He had her, like before, except this time she would die. He had told her this is how it would end.
The desperate realisation made her suddenly aware of her precarious balance, causing her to wobble dangerously on her heels. She staggered on a few paces, arms flailing in the vain attempt to right herself, before her legs finally failed her. She fell forward, holding her hands out to break her fall and skinning her knees and palms. Her vision focused briefly on the deep, bloody lacerations on her wrists, her mind touching on a memory of herself, bound to a headboard, struggling to get free. She began to sob for the first time, pushing herself forward onto sore palms and trying to crawl away from the footsteps that kept coming slowly, steadily. He was in no rush. He knew the inevitability of her end as well as she did, the only difference was that He knew more of the specifics.
He watched as she scrabbled away, enjoying the panic rolling off her in waves. This was just how He had fantasised it would be. No. It was better. The sounds and smells of the alley, of downtown Vegas, made it all more real. He felt his arousal grow as He reached her, sprawled out but still trying to drag her uncooperative body away from him. Despite His frequent use of her, her fear for her life heightened His pleasure and enjoyment of the situation. He considered raping her again, out here in the open, at the scene, but quickly dismissed the idea. That was how people got caught. Amateurs. They acted impulsively instead of sticking to the plan. Besides, claiming her body sexually would not be the same as taking her life. It could only ever be the foreplay. This was the climax, the finale.
A well-aimed foot kicked her arms out from where she had been supporting her weight. Her forehead hit the concrete with a sickening thud, weakening her grip on consciousness and sending waves of nausea through her body. He grabbed her brunette hair and pulled her roughly back up onto her knees. She shook with fear, begging Him to let her go, but knowing all the time that it was useless. Her head throbbed, making it impossible to hold it up, so she found herself focusing on the black of her costume for the first time. The irrational thought entered her head that it would be her parents who found her, her mother disbelieving that she could have allowed herself to be abused by a man and her dead father secure in the knowledge that he had warned her of the dangers of being an easy little slut, and she would be unable to explain to them.
He walked around her until He was facing her, allowing her to see Him in all His glory for the first time. Her gasp was possibly the most erotic thing He had ever heard. He removed his knife from its sheath, deliberately testing its weight in His hand and watching the minute responses she was making. The weeks of planning that had gone into this, now it was time for Him to enjoy it, to soak up every detail so He could recall it in the future whenever He wanted. The moment was finally here. It all came down to this. He grabbed her roughly by the jaw, staring her right in the eye, hoping to somehow capture her final thought. Then He brought the blade up to her jugular. He felt His pulse race as He sliced through her throat in one smooth motion. Her blood splashed onto His costume and into His face, which He wiped away with a feral smile. This was better than He could ever have imagined. Blood lust overtook Him as he sliced into her flesh again and again until at last He was still, and He calmly wiped the blade clean and replaced it in its sheath.
He made some final adjustments to the scene, making sure everything was perfect for the authorities to find, then removed His mask and turned out of the alley onto the main road, blending in seamlessly with the Vegas masses as He strode out into the night.