Author's Note: This is fantasy fodder, and it was written before I really knew jack shit about how people actually engage in BDSM. I'm leaving this up as purely something to enjoy, but please please look up proper practices, including emotional and mental safety in addition to physical safety, or ask someone before trying anything.

I'm no expert, but if you want to talk to me, you can find me as rinari7 on tumblr, and I am happy to answer any questions to the best of my ability or direct you to someone who knows more than I do.

This fic does not show good BDSM practices. Missing, among other things, are explicit discussions of limits or triggers, what sort of encounter or relationship this entails, discussion of what activities are going to be involved, gaining explicit consent for all activities involved, and general discussions of emotional and mental safety in addition to physical safety.

I have endeavored to keep the smut in-character, but nonetheless it remains rather... well, a situation I'm not sure would actually happen. Basically smut for the sake of smut, and I maybe felt selfish leaving it on my drive for only me to enjoy? (Because I enjoy it as much as the next person, especially when I don't have to go to the effort of writing it.)

"Gi-J-ethro?" His name was barely a breath on her lips. She tilted her head, shifted on her knees, his ivory bedspread bunching beneath her, the red scarf resting over her eyes preventing her from knowing where to turn.

He hovered just behind her, careful to keep a certain distance, his skin tightening with anticipation. "I'm here, Katie."

"When are you going to touch me?" There was a slight whine somewhere in her voice, frustration from when he had teased her, brought her high again after her second orgasm earlier, and left her tense and needy.

"Patience." He couldn't resist dropping a quick kiss on her shoulder before he got up from the bed to retrieve a certain item from his closet. When he settled behind her again and began to loop the tie around her wrists, her breath hitched.

"This okay?"

She nodded.

"Yes or no, Katie."

"Yes." The rasp in her voice made his aching cock twitch.

He finished knotting the cloth around her wrists, and made sure it could be easily untied. "Is it too tight?"

She tried to pull her wrists apart, twisted her hands, testing it, then shook her head. "It's fine."

He sat back again, watched her for several moments and drank in the sight: her sleek spine, her firm ass pressed against her heels, her hands bound behind her back with blue silk. He would never be able to wear that tie anywhere ever again, not if he wanted to keep his wits about him.

He set his palm on her side, slid it around to her stomach, set his lips softly to her shoulder. She tensed, trembled, and he kissed his way up to just behind her ear, her skin soft and smooth and delicious.

That sharp intake of breath as he took her earlobe into his mouth and bit down. That shudder when he mouthed her neck. The way she parted her legs ever-so-slightly when he slid his hand lower. That quick, slight flex of her fingers when he ran a nail along the inside of her arm. He noted every reaction he could coax out of her, until she was melting against him, no longer bothering to suppress her mewls and sighs, bucking her hips towards his fingers when they brushed the inside of her thigh.

Then he shifted away again. "Giibbs. Please ."

"Take a moment. Breathe." He closed his eyes, too, and brought his hands up to rest on her shoulders, brushed his thumbs over her shoulderblades as he murmured, "Remember the very first thing you asked about?"

"Gibbs?" Her voice was practically a whisper in the elevator, and when he glanced at her, her cheeks were pink in the stark fluorescent lighting. She cleared her throat. "What's the appeal of-of BDSM?"

He quickly schooled his features to mask his surprise, and swallowed. He could surmise what had prompted the question-their latest case had been manslaughter by erotic asphyxiation, and the crime scene had been littered with rubber and leather and several implements even he wasn't sure of the use of, and he didn't think he wanted to know.

"I'm sure Abby could tell you."

Kate glanced down, adjusting her grip on her handbag. "I already asked. She told me to ask you, and she wouldn't say anything else."

That girl was not getting Caf-Pow! for a week.

The elevator doors opened to the car park, and he stepped out, grateful for a little air, even if it did taste of diesel fumes. "Whaddya want to know?"

He couldn't decide if it was the wrong or right answer.

"I just… why do people do it? I mean, what's the appeal in getting choked or-or anything?"

He took a moment before answering, mindful of her searching gaze on him. He needed that time to put together something coherent, neutral. "It can be a control thing. They say keeping oxygen from the brain intensifies… sensations."

He never shuffled or made any nervous gestures, and she was hardly in the habit, either, but his posture was stiff and her cheeks were reddening.

"And… spanking?"

"Some people like pain, or being physically disciplined. It can also make things more sensitive."

She nodded, looking down.

"Not everything is painful." He didn't know-well, he did know what made that sentence come out of his mouth, but it was nothing he ought to listen to.

"What else is there?" The reply was quick, her voice a little higher than usual, and the brief flash in her eyes made him wonder if she had surprised herself.

"Tying someone up. Blindfolds. Gags. Telling them what to do." He swallowed, shoved one hand into his pocket to adjust his pants a little less conspicuously, and tried to think of some of the more grisly murder scenes they'd faced recently, instead of… her… and their current conversation topic... "Focusing entirely on someone else's pleasure. Orgasm control."

"What's that?"

"What's it sound like?" Dammit , he didn't get embarrassed. He tried again. "It's… what it sounds like. Telling someone when, and how to… come."

"Right. Have you ever…?" She glanced down. "I'm sorry, that's incredibly inappropriate."

"Ask, Katie." They had already started, might as well go on.

She glanced up, narrowed her eyes at him in the evening half-light. "Did you just call me Katie ?"

"Problem?" He purposefully used his I'm-the-boss voice, though he smiled, taking a small step closer. He was gratified to see that she sucked in a deep breath.

"I-you mean choking?" She inhaled, a little shakily.

He lightly brushed his fingertips over her neck before returning them to her shoulders, to run his hands up and down her arms. "I want you to tell me, honestly, whether that's something you'd like to try. I won't hurt you."

She leaned her head back against his shoulder. "I don't know."

"Then we don't."

She nodded. He slid his hands around her waist again, relishing the feel of her in his arms, resisting the urge to press her against him more closely, to grind into her. "We won't do anything you're not comfortable with."

Kate started to turn, an awkward shuffling on her knees, and he moved instead to sit in front of her.

Her naked breasts drew his eye, her nipples dark and pebbled, and then they drew his mouth, as he dipped his head to press his lips to her skin, draw his tongue over the bud, suck. She whimpered as he bit gently, and then he slipped two fingers between her legs and felt exactly how she clenched and grew wetter when he bit down again, not-so-gently.

"I think I know something you'll like," he murmured against her skin as he switched to lavish the same attention on her other breast.

"Hrm?" Her voice was distant, a little dazed.

"Got something in mind I think you'll like." He was torn between continuing this-her skin was clean, scented with the faintest hint of some kind of fruit-ish body wash, and he loved the way his tongue left goosebumps in its wake-and seeing what new noises and reactions he could coax out of her.

Eventually, though, he drew back, when her skin was a pretty pink and her nipples were hard, well-loved. "I'll be right back. You want water while I'm up?" He took a moment to savor the thick, sweet, salty taste as he licked her off his fingers.

She ran her tongue over her lower lip. "Yes, please." A mewl he was willing to bet was involuntary scraped against the back of her throat, and he grinned when she continued. "Don't take long."

Walking was a little awkward, aroused as he was, but the thought of her waiting for him-waiting like that -ensured he didn't take any longer than necessary.

He set everything down on his nightstand and held the glass out to her first, carefully, so she could drink from it. She lifted her head when she was done. "Thanks."

He took a few sips himself before he set the glass down, and picked up the clothespins beside it.

"Not exactly the proper thing, but I still think-hope you'll like it."

"Don't keep me in suspense," she begged.

He leaned down to press his lips to hers, and she opened her mouth eagerly. He teased her tongue with his, and swallowed her whimpers of surprise when he clipped the wooden pins over her nipples.

"Kind of hurts," she said, when he drew back a few seconds later, watching her closely. She was tense, grimacing a little, her shoulders thrown back and her thighs quivering.

"Takes a moment to get used to it. But tell me and I'll take them off."

She stilled, then shook her head slowly. "I-I can handle it."

She held herself a little more stiffly as he brushed his lips over hers again, but when he slid a hand between her legs again she was very, very slick, and when he gently pushed a finger inside her she spasmed around it, hard, and he smiled to himself.

"No, no problem with you calling me Katie, strangely enough." Her voice was a little softer, her smile too, and she exhaled slowly. "Have you ever-been tied up? Or anything."

"Tied up. And everything. A few times." He offered her the beginnings of a crooked smile. "More often on the other end of the equation, though."

She nodded, and maybe her eyes were darker with a new light as they skipped over him. Then she cleared her throat. "Thanks. For answering."

"Welcome."

Her smile was sheepish before she turned and made her way to her car, the tails of her red scarf swaying with her quick steps.

He slid behind the wheel of his own vehicle, leaned his head back, and closed his eyes for a moment. There was no way he could drive safely with snatches of that conversation bouncing around in his mind.

He took several moments, actually, before he inserted the key into the ignition, and then his cell phone rang.

"Gibbs."

"If I ever wanted to-do that-would you be willing to…?"

He couldn't help the slight noise that escaped him. Kate, God, Kate Todd was asking if he would introduce her to-

"Um, you know what, I'm sorry. I-never mind. I just-I wouldn't really trust anyone else, but that was still incredibly out of line, and-can we please pretend this never happened?"

He wondered if she knew that her babbling managed to be one of the few instances of useless strings of sentences that actually failed to annoy him.

"My parents always said 'curiosity killed the cat, Caitlin', and I guess I still haven't learned-"

"Whenever you want, Kate." There was no way in hell he'd let someone else possibly screw it up, let someone else do this for her.

"I-you would?" Her voice went high, and she swallowed audibly, and practically whispered when she spoke next. "Tonight? Before I lose my nerve."

"Nerve to do what? Katie, you shouldn't do anything you don't really want-"

"Not-I mean the nerve to actually ask you. And show up to undress for you." Her laugh was sheepish, again.

His foot suddenly itched to be pressing on the gas pedal. "You know where I live. I'll be waiting." He snapped his phone closed and hoped to God she didn't change her mind on the way over.

He fucked her slowly with one finger, and then two, until he had her bucking against his hand again, and then he withdrew.

"No! Don't stop!"

"I'm not stopping." He cleaned his fingers again, with his tongue, and reached for the nightstand drawer with his other hand. "Just-I'd really like to be inside you."

He paused, before he opened the second condom wrapper for the night. "If you don't mind."

"God, no!" It was half a laugh, half desperation. "Just hurry up about it!"

He couldn't suppress a smile as he rolled the condom over himself, a little fumbling.

"Can you take off the blindfold?"

"Of course." His fingers had no more finesse than they had with the rubber, but the scarf had decidedly less need of it, and it fell to drape loosely around her neck.

"It's easiest for you to be on top, if your hands are tied. Or do you want me to untie-"

"They're fine. Lie back."

He felt his cock twitch at the note of authority in her voice, and had to consciously focus to guide himself into her.

He groaned as she sunk down around him, wet fluttering heat, her little gasps and mewls making his heart race, and she didn't even give him a chance to mentally brace himself before she started moving-a little irregularly, a little off-balance with her hands bound, and all the more heavenly torturous for it.

"So how does this go, Gibbs?" He helped her out of her coat-call him old-fashioned in some ways, he didn't mind-and hung it up beside his own.

"You should probably call me by my first name, for starters." He knew he was speaking slowly, a little raspily. It had crossed his mind to call Ducky and ask him to draw blood and test for hallucinogens, but that would piss Kate off if she was here, and real, and piss him off if she wasn't.

"Jethro?" There was a breathless excitement in her voice as she tested it, rolled it over her tongue. "So, Jethro, how does this go?"

"Pick a safe word. Then it goes however you want." He spread his arms slightly.

"Safe word?"

"A word that-if either of us say it, either of us thinks we heard it, the whole thing stops immediately. It should be something you wouldn't say otherwise. 'Stop' is bad because if you want to say 'don't stop'..." he tilted his head demonstratively.

She crossed her arms, glancing up for a moment, and he was willing to give her all the time she needed to think. "Zucchini. I'm in charge?"

"If you want to be." He nodded, swallowed, hoped his sweatpants hid how unexpectedly eager that prospect made him.

She tilted her head to the side, her eyebrows shooting up. "So if I told you to take off your pants here, you would?"

"Yep."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Do it."

He obeyed, and enjoyed her gaping, kind of enjoyed (if he was honest with himself) the way her gaze rested below his stomach for a moment before flicking up to his face again, her cheeks reddening. "Anything else, Katie?"

"Uhm… bedroom?" She cleared her throat. "Please show me your bedroom."

He bent to pick up his pants, and guided her down the hall.

She took several moments to look around, though it wasn't much-four-poster bed, dresser, closet, two nightstands, all chestnut wood, off-white walls, gray carpet, blue curtains-and he waited patiently before she returned her attention to him.

"Sit on the bed. Please. And… would you take off…?" She gestured vaguely.

"Everything?"

"Sure, why not?" Her laugh still held a note of disbelief, though her gaze devoured him as he finished undressing all the same, and she stepped forward when he was done. He parted his legs to make room for her to stand between them. He had to remind himself to breathe as she reached for him, didn't dare hope she had to do the same-and he nearly shuddered when her fingertips stopped just above his skin.

"May I?"

"Of course. Anything you want. I'm yours." He swallowed, forced it past his throat closing up, and quickly corrected himself, "Tonight."

She bit her lip and let her fingers trace the contours of his shoulder, slid her palms over his abdomen, knelt to more comfortably follow the groove between hip and leg. His skin tightened wherever she touched it, and he felt far too sensitive, charged with more anticipation than he had any right to feel.

Another questioning glance, and he nodded-he wasn't sure to what, but he couldn't really say he cared a whole lot. She smiled in return, a devious, slow, broad smile, and then her tongue traced over the clear fluid already leaking from his engorged cock.

"Don't come. I hate the taste."

He tried to regulate his breathing as she closed her fingers and guided him into her mouth.

She hissed as he suddenly unclipped the makeshift clamps from her nipples, and as the blood rushed back painfully -he knew from experience-she keened and clenched and trembled in her third orgasm of the night.

"Katie." He panted, when the glaze had faded a little from her eyes. "Kate, tell me to come."

She bit her lip, her eyes dark and wide and a little mischievous as she stared down at him.

"Kate," he groaned. "Please."

She smiled, and he would have called it a purr if there wasn't still that shy note hiding behind it:

"Come for me, then, Jethro."

He saw stars.

When some semblance of his faculties returned, she was still perched on top of him, her voice soft and full of something he almost called awe. "Gi-Jethro?"

"Hrm?" He was hardly in a state to be articulate.

"Can we do this again sometime?"

Author's Note: Don't ask me how Gibbs has experience with BDSM. Really, I have no clue. Mysterious Redhead, maybe?

Although this work was directly inspired by someone else's piece, that piece is currently (to the best of my knowledge) neither online nor in any way reference-able. However, I have also noticed elements of similar fics I had read prior to writing this have snuck in, and I would like to give credit where it is due. "Cruelty to Gibbs" by flootzavut here on , and "Like Poles Attract" by Lanta on Archive of Our Own. Both excellent works. Go read them.