Humiliation is Sweet revenge

Humiliation is Sweet Revenge 03

Author KhiDax

Pairing G/C eventually

Rating: NC-17 for violence and non-consensual sex.

Disclaimer see chapter one.

Thanks to AbyKitten for being patient and betaing and vividlyblue1 for putting me up to this!

Feedback Yes please but please be kind this is my first CSI fic and I’m nervous! :o) e-mail KesNaya@aol.com

Archive: anywhere you like but drop me a line to let me know okay!

Authors note: this ones a bit angsty and I’m not sure I’ve got all the characters right. Grissom may seem to be acting a bit odd but that’s meant. The bits between the *** are flashback.

Sara Sidle was the first to arrive. One look at Grissom made her swallow the glib comment that was on the tip of her tongue. It was clear to her that her boss was struggling to attain his usual air of neutrality and detachment.

Warrick and Nick entered next, their usual betting talk dying on their lips, both realised that something was far wrong.

Jim Brass slippn qun quietly, saying nothing to anyone, waiting to see what would unfold.

Catherine came in last and sat on the edge of Grissom’s desk, coming as close to him as he would allow.

Grissom began to sit then stopped, turning his face so only Cath caught the shaft of pain in his eyes and she remembered the marks she had seen on his body.

It was not, however, the pain alone that caused Grissom to move and walk behind his desk. Suddenly he felt too close to those he must now inform of the goings on of the past twenty-four hours. Shame lurched at his heart and fear tied a knot in the pit of his stomach.

How could he have let this happen, and how could he now tell those present? Cath came around the desk and gently laid her right hand on his shoulder. She felt him fight the instinct to draw away and retreat, rubbing his shoulder consolingly she whispered softly. “You did what you had to do, Gil,” Turning his face to hers she added, “all they will hear is how ill treated you were, and all they will want is to catch those who did it.”

He ta dea deep breath and finally looked into her eyes, the first time he had done so since his return. She saw the panic, pain and silent hope in his eyes that she was right, but she also saw the doubt. “Tell them, Gil, it’s all right.”

Grissom turned to face his team, but he did not look at them, rather he looked at the floor or over their heads. This they all found unusual but said nothing.

“I am going to give you the details of a victim account, but I ask you not to interrupt nor ask how I know so many specifics.” He sighed, thinking of all the questions they were bound to ask and how he would manage to answer, “I’ll explain everything later, for now I ask you just to listen.”

They never said a word, just sat quietly waiting for him to begin. “Go on, Gil,” Cath encouraged him, “we’re listening”

He explained to them about the phone call, the appearance of Mr Jordan and the drive into the desert. Then hesitantly he began to tell the rest.


Grissom lay in the imposed darkness, waiting nervously for the arrival of his captors. He didn’t have to wait long. Voices approached, speaking quietly, too quietly for him to hear what they were saying. As the voices stopped, the door at his feet opened. He felt a stab in his left thigh, then the door was slammed shut. The car rocked twice as two people climbed in and started the engine.

He lay silently wondering what he had been injected with. Nothing seemed to change at first but gradually he felt a mild sensation start in his stomach, then it seemed to spread up through his chest and neck before settling in his head. There was a strong sense of clarity and energy. Grimacing he realised he’d been given amphetamines. The feelings of exhilaration and well-being began to overtake him but he fought them, overconfidence would do him no good now and he was sure this wasn’t why they’d dosed him. ‘No,’ he thought, ‘they want me awake and aware.’ He knew only too well that one use for amphetamines was for treating narcolepsy. Apparently they wanted him to experience all they had planned for him. It didn’t hearten him any.

The car came to an abrupt stop and the door at his feet was opened again. Someone grabbed the shackles around Grissom’s ankles and pulled him from the car, a glancing blow of his head on the car frame left him dazed for a few minutes. Before he could gather his thought, he was picked up by each arm and dragged into a room.

Although he was still blindfolded he could tell the room was in darkness, for the heat there had still been in the setting sun was completely absent from this dank smelling place.

He was placed on his feet and could hear people walking around him, but he couldn’t tell how many were present. He felt something sharp against his neck and then heard the ripping of cloth. All too soon he was left standing naked and feeling far more vulnerable than he ever had before in his life. He tensed waiting to see what would transpire next.

“Ah, Mr Grissom,” a voice said close to his ear, “welcome to my abode, though I fear it will not be a visit you enjoy.” There was a brief sneering laugh and then the voice continued. “Sometime ago you and your evidence were responsible for the incarceration of an associate of mine. For the death of a miscreant low life no less.” His anger at Grissom’s participation was clear in his clipped, accent less tones. “Originally I had decided to attain no revenge for your small part in the matter, but circumstances have changed.” The cold, venomous edge that crept into the voice caused a knot of sharp fear to seize the pit of Grissom’s stomach and he struggled not to show it.

“Now, my dear Mr Grissom, payment is due,” the voice came loud and thundering in his face, “and payment I shall have!”

Grissom found himself thrust forward, his arms raised, until he hit a wall of wood and the c of of the handcuffs on his wrists were caught on something. He stood there, breathing very shallow and fast, fearing what would come next.

“First some pain, the kind that will last long in body and memory,” the voice continued as if extolling it’s virtue. “You are aware of how school boys were punished in the eighteenth and nineteenth centauries, aren’t you Mr Grissom?”

There was a whooshing noise and then Grissom cried out as something thin and wieldy was slashed across his back. He couldn’t believe what was happening, from what the voice had said it could only be a cane, but who these days used them?

Systematically, for what seemed like hours to Grissom, they beat him from the top of his neck to his knees. The pain was unbearable, but because of the drugs he lasted much longer than he would have believed possible. Once he passed out they threw cold water on him and began again.

Finally he came to. He was wet, exhausted, in agony and lying on a concrete floor. He could hear nothing of his captors and could not sense them anywhere around him. He curled into a foetal position, the very movement opening cuts on his body, and wept. Liquid ran down his back and he did not know if it was water or blood. He longed for unconsciousness, but it did not come, so he lay there in the cold trying to stem the flow of his tears and muffle his sobs. He didn’t know what they expected of him, but he hoped notgivegive it to them too easily.

Sleep must finally have came upon him for he was awaken by a boot to his back. Crying out in pain he raised his head but other than that remained still. If they wanted him to move they would have to do it, because there was no way he could manage it himself.

Once more he was grabbed by the arms and dragged through an open door, banging his legs off of the frame as he went. He shivered at the cold and guessed that it was still night or very early morning, but his captors seemed to have no plan to remove the blindfold, so he could not tell which.

“Ah, Mr Grissom,” the same toneless voice spoke, “you are back with us again I see.”
A hand laced itself into his hair and pulled his head up. “That damp strip of cloth must be annoying, but I’m afraid you’re stuck with it and I’m sure it will get much wetter before we are done.” Again came the sneering laugh.

“Much as I would like to drag out your torture and enjoy it, we have a limited time before you are missed and much to accomplish, so now onto the next step.”

Grissom was hauled to his feet and before he could react his hands swiftly changed from being cuffed in front of him to behind his back. At least one man held him up right by his biceps as another launched a furious attack on his stomach and chest.

Breath was driven from Grissom’s body and pain lanced through him. He had been caught in a fist fight a time or two in his youth, whenever one or another of his classmates had decided to show the ghost a lesson, but nothing could have prepared him for this and there was absolutely nothing he could do to defend himself.

When they were finished, they again left him lying in a pool of cold water. This time they had used a hose of some sort and clearly meant to remove any evidence that might lead to their arrest.

Later Grissom awoke once more, he had no idea how much time had passed for he now realised that the cold he felt in the room was engineered somehow. He wasn’t sure but he thought he could hear some sort of fan operating in the far end of the room he had been beaten in, so there was no way for him to know if it was day or night.

He was dragged once again into the room where his tormentors preferred to torture him, and again the toneless voice spoke. “Now we hit a flight of fancy of mine. There is a particular type of torture I have seen in a few films that I should lik try try.” He seemed to be setting something up by the scuffing and rummaging sounds Grissom could hear.

“Bring him here and lay him on his back.” The more the toneless voice spoke the more Grissom thought he should recognise it but he couldn’t place it.

For the first time since his capture, Grissom’s blindfold was removed, but it did him no good. Directly up above him was a bright light which shone directly into his eyes. He could see nothing beyond the end of the table he was strapped to and a small box with a switch in its centre.

Hands approached out of the darkness and through his blurred vision, his eyes were tearing because of the unaccustomed light, he saw they had a disc in each with wire trailing from it. While someone attached one to each side of his stomach in the groin area, someone else placed his feet into a basin of cold water. Grissom did not like the feel of this. This smacked of some sort of electric shock treatment.

His fear proved only too correct. Once everything was in place, the disembodied hands flicked the switch. Grissom’s body arched of the table and a scream was ripped from his throat. So strong was the pain that it robbed him of any further breath and he writhed in agony. A few minutes later, though it seemed like hours to him, the switch was flicked once again and the pain subsided though his body still twitched and shook.

“Now here is where we find if we have learned our technique properly.” There was laughter in the voice, but Grissom still could see no one outside of the light. “You now have a choice Mr Grissom. I have in my left hand a button. Should I press this button one of the bombs we have planted will explode, which one it is I don’t know. It could be at your office or in the innocent family’s home,” he paused, cleared his throat and then continued, “In my right hand, however, I have the switch which just set your body afire. Now here is your choice Mr Grissom,” he laughed a dry, hissing sound from the darkness, “you must decide which button I press, the one in my left or the one in my right.”

There was laughter from all around Grissom in the darkness and he realised there were far more of them than he had suspected.

“The choice is yours Mr Grissom, which shall it be?”

Grissom choked back a sob. What was he to do? He couldn’t assign people to their deaths to save himself, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he did. But to subject himself to such pain again. That tore at his heart.

“Quickly Mr Grissom,” the voice demanded, “for if you do not decide I shall press both.”

Grissom grimaced, his entire body shaking at what he knew he would do. Steeling himself against the new onslaught of pain he answered “The right one.”

Barely were the words out of his mouth than the fire began anew. He bucked and writhed, screamed and sobbed but still the pain came, until he eventually lost consciousness.

Cold water in his face woke him. His body ached in every pore, there was not a part of him that did not shake and he knew he couldn’t take much more. He now fully believed they intended to kill him and began to relish the release death would bring him.

“One last choice Mr Grissom, then my associates will have their fun and we shall see an end to this.”

Grissom wondered what else they could possibly throw at him. He was beyond any thoughts of survival now, he just wanted this to be over and done with. His only real regret was that he had never told Catherine exactly how he felt about her. True they had flirted and joked, argued and reconciled. They had danced around their feelings in so many different ways but never faced them and now they never would get the chance.

“Here is your choice, you must choose which button you will press yourself Mr Grissom.” Grissom was shocked, what did they expect of him, why were they doing this? Was it not enough that they had reduced to him to a quivering wreck?

“I can’t, please I beg of you don’t ask me to,” he pleaded. Was this what they wanted, to see him completely broken before them so they could kill him and relish it.

“Ah but you must Mr Grissom, lives depend upon it.” The voice told him with no hint of mercy or of pleasure.

Slowly, with shaking hand and fear evident in his every move, Grissom reached out toward the two buttons. Holding his hand over them he hesitated. He would love to have been callous enough to choose his own safety but that was never a choice. With sinking heart and trembling lip he flicked the switch and for the final time descended into a world of pain and torment.

Water splashed over him and he came awake with a start. He had never thought to wake again, had believed they would leave him suffering from that instrument until he died, but it seemed they were not finished with him yet.

“Now Mr Grissom,” came the voice he had grown to fear, had grown to hate, “this is your final torment and then believe it or not we will let you go.”

Grissom gasped in surprise. He couldn’t, no he wouldn’t believe they were going to let him go, not until he stood in his own home again and he didn’t believe he ever would.

“You see my boys here are going to have their fun, they have been very patient doing my bidding. Once they have finished, you will be driven back to your house.” A hand slapped him across the face bringing his full attention to the direction of the voice. “Listen carefully, if you are not in your office fifty minutes after your release all the bombs will be exploded. If, however, you do as you are instructed you will be given full information on the location of all the bombs and their disarmament.”

Before he could even think about what had been said, he was roughly turned on to his stomach. He felt hands about his buttocks and suddenly realised what was about to happen. “No!” He screamed, but no one listened to him.

Once all had been satisfied and his humiliation completed they had been as good as their word and he had been returned to his house to endure his next trial.


Grissom finished his tale and ran from roo room, tears streaming down his face. He knew he would have to face their questioning but for now he needed to be alone. He ran towards the autopsy rooms hoping that Dr Robbinsld bld be elsewhere.

Catherine came out of the room minutes later. Looking up and down the corridor she could see no trace of the fleeing man, but something caught her attention. She looked into the lab across the hall and saw Greg standing there his mouth opened and his eyes wide in shock. Obviously he had seen Grissom, but which way had he gone. “Well!” She shouted to the dumbstruck man. Greg simply lifted his right hand and pointed toward the autopsy rooms with his index finger. Catherine nodded and ran after him.

She found Grissom standing leaning on an empty table, head bowed and shoulders shaking. She had never thought to see him so distraught. What could she possibly do to elevate himself in his own eyes? Without stopping to think about it she walked up to him, spun him round to face her and kissed him.


TBC...