Disclaimer: None of what is written in here belongs to me. Just to let you know.
Double Disclaimer: Due to the content you'll find in here, I feel the need to point out that Christian's is the creepiest creeper to ever creep and is an instruction manual on how not to do...well everything.
Warnings: Trigger things. Dub!Con, abuse of power, manipulation, gas lighting, revenge by proxy, stalking, invasion of privacy, sexual coercion, high levels of violence, torture, genital mutilation, sexual taunting/fake-slut shaming(?), improper use of toys/gear, oh and character death. Slight crossover. Surprise character.
Word Count: 8,348
AN: Well this was an unexpected plot bunny. I'm supposed to be working on the latest chapter of Wayward Sons, but this idea just wouldn't leave me alone. In case the tags/warnings haven't scared you off, this isn't exactly a Christian-friendly fic. In fact, needing to use the books as a reference was tricky.
Also, note that I'm not a Washington resident so if there are any inaccuracies, sorry about that. I'm not the most geographically-minded person. There is also the fact that the timelines don't match up, really but it takes place during the first book and pre-series for the other. So speaking of timelines, don't worry too much about the Veritas Software/Symantec in regards to its dating. The timeline may be off but they are real companies. I'm sure they are also filled with decent, hardworking employees as well. I'm not a hacker either, so I'm just using the basic idea. As always constructive criticism is welcome. Again as always, enjoy!
Operation Brunnhild:
The Seattle skyline was blazing against the backdrop of a glorious summer sunset. The sweep of the coast going into the distance. SkyCity at the Space Needle was busy with tourists dining and enjoying the view. Wait staff bustled to crowded tables as some guests took pictures, little flashes going off from their camera phones. Patrons chattered, their respective conversations blended together. Soft orange lighting fixtures from overhead lit the people and the tables. Ambient music filtered out through speakers, but only the beat was audible.
However, her ears were pricked for hearing the light ping of the elevator indicating it's about to open moments before the soft hiss of the doors opening. An accurate countdown of the doors. They opened just as the floor moved. SkyCity was unique in that rotated 360 degrees every forty seven minutes. The elevator was the only exit out of the area.
Two men emerged from said elevator. They wore dark suits. The taller man on the left was wearing a navy blue three piece suit and a black tie. The shorter, somewhat stockier man in a black pinstripe suit. Both men scanned the room, after a few minutes the taller man nudged his companion and nodded his head in her direction. The taller man was holding an attaché case in one hand.
The short man strode forward and sidled into the booth. He stretched out as soon as he reached the far corner of the booth. The other man paused, looking down at her in a slow, blinking way. Aware of the expression on her face, she watched the way he swallowed reflexively as his eyes darted. The short man cleared his throat and the tall man scuttled into the booth. He stole a glance at her as he got himself situated. His shoe tapped against her ankle. Flinching, he tucked his legs back to his side.
The short man leaned back in his seat. He nodded to her drink. A glass with three cubes of ice and only a few inches of amber liquid inside the glass.
"What are you having?" he asked.
She pressed her lips together, silent and waiting as the shorter man's smirk sobered into a more neutral expression as the taller man on the left cleared his throat and raising his index finger. The shorter man gave a brisk little nod. Not taking her eyes off them, she signaled for a waitress. A blonde woman strode to them, giving a small smile.
"How are you and what can I get for you all?" she asked, slightly breathless.
"Another whiskey for me." After a quick look to the two men, she gave a little gesture with her hand. "Anything for you two?"
"Just a glass of water for me." The tall man said.
"I'll take a Heineken." replied the short man.
"I'd say we're good." she said to the waitress, giving her a smile.
The waitress gave a little nod. "Coming right up."
As soon as the waitress left, the two men faced her in unison. Inwardly, she gave a smirk. The shorter man leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table. The taller man took one of the silverware bundles, undoing the napkin's folds to fiddle with the fabric. His nails pink against not only the dark green of the napkin but his own dark skin.
"I'm Slatterly." Said the short man. He gave her a brief grin.
"My name is Mr. Penn." The taller man. He flicked his eyes up at her and maintain eye contact. "It's nice to meet you. You've got a reliable reputation."
"That's putting it mildly." Slattery said.
The waitress came back, setting their drinks down and after a quick smile, scuttled away. Slattery, who had watched their waitress and then returned his gaze back to her. His expression transitioned back to a more brisk expression. Mr. Penn looked back and forth between them.
Slatterly took that as a cue and Mr. Penn handed him the attaché case and Slatterly set it onto the table. She took a drink of her whiskey as Slattery put a few manila folders onto the table. He took the first one, opening it and revealing glossy 8x10 pictures of a man in a gray three piece suit. After a pause, she set down her drink. Peering down at the pictures, she frowned. Slattery watched her movements.
"Look familiar?" he asked.
"Should I?"
Slatterly shrugged as she picked up the picture of the full body shot in the center of the few pictures that had been littered onto the table. She frowned. Slatterly started to speak as she continue to study the photo. The glossy color print stared up at her. A tall man walking down to a sleek, black Audi SUV. He is wearing a three piece suit in a charcoal grey, white dress shirt and a black tie. The only splash of color was his hair. Thick reddish hair in a tousled way that probably came from an expensive haircut.
"That's Christian Grey. He's the CEO of Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc." Slatterly said. "Technically, he runs a communications company but he's an entrepreneur that likes to cross boundaries."
She raised an eyebrow. Slatterly and Mr. Penn exchanged looks. Lifting up her drink again, she raised an eyebrow as Mr. Penn cleared his throat.
"What Slatterly means is that...he is showing an interest in matters that he has no dealings with-"
She set down her drink. Mr. Penn flinched and Slatterly leaned back, removing his arms from the table. Slatterly dropped his eyes as Mr. Penn loosened his tie. Mr. Penn took a sip of his water and then continued.
"I-I mean, as you know, Veritas Software broke off from its parent company about two years ago and now it's finally gaining a foothold. Grey Enterprises is trying to move in and act as competition. However, Grey Enterprises is hitting a rough patch. Which means-"
"That Grey is desperate." picking up another photo. A head shot from a telephoto lens. "Moving in on that deal you have with a certain warlord in the Sudan-"
"Clever girl." Slattery said with a smirk. "Grey is getting desperate. Which means it's gonna be turkey shoot for you-"
"And you. A chance to gain a company and get your money back." she said.
She continued to look at the picture in her hand. The head shot was in crisp definition. Grey was looking forward, eyes intent on whatever he was staring at. His lips were pursed, a downward tug at the corners of his mouth. Almost a pout if not for the eyes. His hair was a burnished tone of red, almost unnatural in its vividness. Frowning, she peered closer at the picture. The expression in the face...she curled her lip and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. She tossed the picture back on the table. It skimmed the table with a little snick.
With a glare, she dared the two men to comment. When neither said a word, she spoke. Mr. Penn worried at his napkin, nails catching at a frayed thread. Slatterly's eyes darted to Mr. Penn, scowling for a second before focusing back on her.
"If Grey is to be dealt with, then there is a matter of payment."
Slatterly opened his mouth to speak but Mr. Penn beat him to the punch. "Of course. You get half up front and then the other when you've finished. Of course we need proof that you'll have done the job."
"Such as?" she arched a brow.
"Anything you want." Slatterly said. "Now we know that he's gonna be in town for the weekend. Where can we find you?"
"Hotel Ballard. Ask for Audrey McClane."
Slatterly gave a snort that quickly turned to a cough as she smiled. He bent down, digging through the attaché case, and pulled out a thick envelope. He slid it across the table and it nudged her fingers. Opening it, she took a peek inside. Slatterly and Mr. Penn kept still. Mr. Penn cleared his throat.
"There is a question of information." Mr. Penn said. "There is information we need."
"Alright but it's an extra five." she said.
"Two." Mr. Penn said.
"Three."
Slatterly watched the two of them, swallowing audibly as Mr. Penn nodded in assessment. "Done." he said.
Putting the envelope in her purse, she then stood up.
"Keep in touch."
OP
Charlotte H. Dalton wobbled down the street in her new wedge shoes. Waving her arms, her bag banging into her chest as she tried to flag down the bus that was beginning to rumble back into movement. Charlotte managed to board the bus, fumbling for change before stumbling down into a seat closest to the door. Her eyes darted to watch and then to the windows of the bus. She paid no attention to the other commuters as she leaned forward in her seat. Another block down, she tugged on the line, and she jumped up as the bus finally halted.
New passengers came on and Charlotte stepped aside to let them through before darting out of the bus. The rest of her surroundings dropped out of focus as she stared up at the Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc. building. She blinked up at it for just a moment. A skyscraper with a kind of modern design she was too sure of.
Charlotte pushed past the glass double doors and strode over to the reception desk. A blonde woman fronted the desk. Charlotte nodded to herself and the woman looked up at her. Charlotte made a beeline for her.
"Can I help you?"
"Charlotte H. Dalton is here for the appointment for the meeting with Christian Grey." she said. "I know I'm a little late." she added.
The receptionist nodded, looking up at Charlotte with a cool smile. She gave a single nod.
"That you are. Please have a seat while I let him know you're here." she said.
"Thanks so much."
Charlotte scuttled over to the waiting room and she sunk into one the plush chairs. Adjusting her bag, she took in her surroundings. The modernity of the building wasn't lost on her. Everything was designed in black and white, with a sparseness in furniture, and had smooth lines to them. She had seen this type decor in high end magazines. Charlotte set her bag down. Turning around in her seat, she could watch her reflection.
A petite woman with a soft curves that were hidden by her clothes. A white button down blouse with a lacy collar. A black pencil skirt that came down to her knees, a little slit in the side. Wedge shoes with thick black straps kept tight against her ankles. The only jewelry she wore was a silver charm bracelet on her wrist.
Her face was youthful, almost baby-faced if not for the definition of her cheekbones. An oval shaped face with angles softened by smooth skin. A healthy pinkness held in her cheeks. Plush full lips with a sheen of Chap Stick. Thick brown hair braided in one lengthy tail. Curly tendrils were beginning to sneak out of their arrangement. It was windswept away from her face, a bit wild. Wide hazel eyes that were bright against her thick lashes.
"Miss Dalton." The receptionist called. "He's ready for you now."
Charlotte gave her a grin as she stood up and got about three feet, before she spun around and went back for her bag. Heading for the elevator, she blended in with the crowd intent on catching the elevator. She rode it all the way up to the top, watching as people in crisp suits got in and out. Charlotte hurried down the hall, offices bustling, and she found the one she was looking for at the end of the hall. A door with a silver plaque with the name, 'Christian Grey, CEO' etched onto the plate. Said door was open a crack. Charlotte paused for a moment before managing to knock and push the door open at the same time.
Charlotte's left foot caught on her right ankle and she stumbled into the office. At once, a pair of hands catch her. Arms that kept her from falling onto the floor. Her bag tumbled to the ground as Charlotte looked up into the face of Christian Grey. She watched as his breath caught audibly in his throat and her eyes flashed as her expression morphed into a smile. Charlotte stared as the man in front of her gave her a look.
It was an expression that she found to be strange. It managed to be impassive and intense. Unblinking grey eyes followed her as Charlotte kneeled down as to pick up her bag. A mild flush settled on her cheeks. Charlotte snapped back up, holding her bag to her chest.
"Uh...sorry about that." she laughed.
Mr. Grey said nothing and Charlotte faltered. After a few minutes, a smile began to play on his lips and he gestured for her to take a seat. She did as directed, still clutching her bag. Mr. Grey continued to stand and regard her.
"So, uh, I know you're supposed to be...well the person who was supposed to interview you, Kate Kavanagh, she got sick and I got here last minute, so I'm-" she dug into her bag and fished out a small tape recorder. "- supposed to transcribe this for her. I-I-I'm on the school newspaper too and just earned the internship-"
"Indeed." Mr. Grey's voice cut through.
"I know you've got to be busy, so thanks for this-"
Mr. Grey cut her off again. "Indeed I am."
"Do you care if this is recorded?"
"You already have the recorder out?" His tone was clipped.
Charlotte flushed. "Oh...yeah, right. Of course."
Charlotte leaned forward and pressed the record button on the tape recorder. She moved back, pulling out a yellow writing pad with thick scribbles in pen. A list of questions dominated the center of the page. She held it out, reading it for a second and began to speak.
"Ah, now Mr. Grey, you are considered to be one of Seattle's top businessmen and one of the wealthiest as well." At the small nod, she kept going. "What would you say allowed you to do that?"
"Allow?" Mr. Grey's voice his soft and...a touch haughty.
Charlotte's hand crept up to her hair, fingers ghosting over her scalp. Her hand dropped back to her bag, fiddling with the clasps of her bag. She glanced up at Mr. Grey up through thick lashes. Mr. Grey kept on speaking.
"That isn't quite how I would put it." At Charlotte's puzzled look, he elaborated. "I achieved all this through the combination of hard work, careful planning, and the strength of my staff."
"Planning?" Charlotte asked. "Are you referring to your schooling?"
"Among other things." Christian said. "I have always placed a high value on education. Due to my own upbringing, I endeavor to provide support for all children in need." he stared at her.
"By your upbringing, do you mean your adoption by the Grey family." she asked.
Mr. Grey's voice was chilly and his eyes flashed for just a moment. "Only partially. The rest comes from determination. I determined that I would make something of myself and I did. Although, if I would be pressed to admit-it's all about the people you hire."
"It is?"
"Of course." Mr. Grey pursed his lips in thought. "I'm reminded of something that I like to remind myself of if I ever need to. Immense power is squired by assuring yourself in your secret reveries that you were born to control things." he said. "You would do well to remember that." he said.
"Huh...that sounds pretty erm, controlling."
Mr. Grey's smirked for a brief second before sobering. "I like to exercise control in all things."
His stare bored into her and Charlotte dropped her gaze. She red off the rest of the questions from her note pad. She kept her gaze on the pad until she finished the questions and shoved the pad back into her back. Only then did she finally bring her gaze to meet Mr. Grey's eyes. He kept staring at her.
"Ah thanks for doing this, especially on such short notice-"
"Don't let it trouble you." his voice went lower. "It was my pleasure."
Mr. Grey stood up, hand reaching out to her and she followed suit. Charlotte tore her gaze away from him, dropping her head. A small smile wavered on her face and she beat a hasty retreat.
OP
McClane strode to the southwest corner of the apartment complex Escala. She ducked away from single security camera, hugging the wall where the camera's blind spot was. Obscured by the shade, she jumped over guard rail and went across the garage. Very few cars were parked. About four of them were still scattered along. The stairwell nearest to her open. Jogging forward, she noticed that the man who pushed the door open was looking down at his cellphone. He didn't look up as she weaved her way around him and into the building.
Finding the stairwell, she took the stairs two at a time until she reached the basement. A door on the right held a sign that read 'employees only'. McClane pulled out her lock pick set and was inside. Locking the door behind her, she peered through the dim light. The hum of the boilers on the right reverberated along the floor. The left was strung with cable boxes and thick wires. It was exactly where the floor plans indicated they would be.
McClane set down her backpack, pulling out a flashlight, and clicked it on. The flashlight's beam illuminated the cables. Taking a black box out of her pack, she nuzzled it in between two nests of cables. The black wires were thick as poisonous snakes. McClane opened the box and focused the light on the box's insides. She pressed three buttons in succession. Shutting the box again, she pulled a laptop out of her bag.
Hooking her laptop with the black box, she went onto the program she needed. Entering in a rapid fire of keystrokes, she pulled up the necessary camera feeds. The security booth from the front desk and the one up in the pent house. Surveillance was in the main rooms. Including the bedrooms. Only one person was in the penthouse and it appeared to be one of the staff. With one keystroke, she fed their security cameras a loop. She put the laptop and flashlight back in her bag, and she left the room.
Taking the elevator, she rode up to the penthouse. She pulled a out a key. The elevator opened and she peered out. There were no cameras, motion detectors, or no other devices that she could see. Her shoes made no sound as she unlocked the door and stepped inside.
The apartment was vast. She raised a single eyebrow. The white walls, the marble flooring, and the expensive art deco littering the room. The entryway was wider than the norm. The entryway and living room were connected to one another. A smaller hallway led to what she knew to be a subset of bedrooms, kitchens, and their own living space. A wing entirely for the two staff members living within.
She moved past the living room, with its panoramic bay windows. A grand piano stood all alone. McClure's fingers hovered over the keys but turned around and headed to Grey's study. It was unlocked. The study wasn't quite as large as it could have been. A mahogany desk predominated the room. Filing cabinets lined both sides of the walls. On the right of the desk, was another smaller table that was cluttered with thick books and papers. A computer rested on the main desk, with a large monitor next to it.
Using it was easy and it was just as easy to gain both business and personal information. It looked like and Slatterly were right. Grey was in trouble. Despite his $100,000 an hour paycheck and his penchant for "fixing" problem companies, he was still losing money. There were lots of companies and side projects that he seemed to be sticking his fingers in any pie he could get his hands in. Except for Microsoft. Yet, he co-owned a small salon chain with a woman name Elena Lincoln.
Yet, a few e-mails from the board of directors and Ros Bailey, the VP of Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc., showed that they were trying to oust to Grey under the pretext of using him as a sinecure. From the looks of it, it was working. Grey was going broke. He has a separate file for his finances, with two catching her interest the most. One labeled 'charity' with the other 'playground'. She opened the former first.
The first thing that came up was his contributions to Darfur. Looks like it as charity on his taxes. That would hold off any IRS investigations at bay. There were no receipts of any kind. It also looks like Darfur wasn't the only place that he gave an anonymous 'charity' too. Grey seemed to have a real fascination with technology and agriculture despite officially a telecommunications company. On paper, Grey's company didn't invest or manufacture surveillance devices. For some reason, his company had dealings with boats.
She loaded up a few schematics that told her otherwise. McClane tutted. Grey's been a busy boy or at least he's trying to be. Taking the jump drive from her bag, she put it in the laptop and began copying and downloading files. McClane opened up the file labeled 'playground'. It held personal accounts. Mostly what he spends his paychecks on. Elena Lincoln's name came up.
Frowning, she dug deeper. Various e-mails shown that they still maintained contact. This wasn't fully salon business. Sure, it was brought up but then other names, business, and products came up out of the woodwork. Claude Bastille, a personal trainer. Caroline Acton, a personal shopper from Neiman Marcus and-
McClane frowned, peering at the screen, the words still the same. She reread it. Dr. Green, an OB/GYN that he paid an exorbitant amount for. More names popped up with only dates and amounts next to them. McClane leaned back from the screen and turned to the filing cabinet. Darting over, the contents were hers in minutes. The middle shelf was thick with manila folders.
Women's names written in the tabs. Fifteen of them in total. She pulled the little stack out and set them on the table. Background checks. Family history, medical records, job resumes, and places of residence. Down to their social security numbers and bank account pins. Photos were included. They were all petite, white, and more tellingly, brunettes. The color of the eyes varied but mostly stuck to shades of brown.
One other thing they had in common. A lengthy contract and an NDA. McClane finished reading the documents with a snort. Not even remotely legal. However, they all signed it. Her frowned deepened. McClane went back to the files. One name stood out to her. Leila Williams. It listed her as being in a psychiatric hospital. The others were listed in various states. McClane turned on the copy machine, and began to take the dossiers, NDA, and contracts to copy.
A list of receipts for what she realized were gifts. Each of the women, the...submissive were given a variety of things. An Audi. The A3 to be specific. He also purchased high end electronics, nothing but the latest. On occasion, he would pick first editions of classic literature. He had a wardrobe allowance, a physical trainer, and a gynecologist for them. At least fifteen women within a three month time span for each. No wonder he was going broke.
Another slip of paper fell out of the dossiers. Picking it up, she realized it was a receipt for photo negatives. McClane gave a little hum. A quick search of the study revealed no photos. Yet another search revealed that Grey even kept records on himself even. A medical history and adoption records. His therapist was named John Flynn and he used the Solution Focused Brief Therapy. Next to it was Dr. Flynn's assent and transcripts of his sessions with Grey.
Those led to the documents of his adoption, even information on his birth mother. A police report, coroner's report, and a photo. She stared, eyes widen a fraction before she gave a little huff of breath. McClane copied these items before she put the documents back to where they were. Enough material for Mr. Penn and Slatterly. McClane put it all in a thick manila envelope and slid it into her bag.
McClane left the office to hunt for the photos, which she finally found in Grey's walk-in closet. McClane's lip curled. While being poorly taken, their subjects were clear. The fifteen women in various stages of undress. Some were tied up, others suspended, and others whipped. She tilted her head and selected some of the crisper ones and put them into her bag as well. The room that the women were in was all in the same place. Shaking the box, a small, silver key fell out. McClane picked it up and left.
Padding into the hall, the room was easy to find. She unlocked the door and shut it behind her. Taking the sight in, she said nothing. McClane touched nothing, eyes sweeping through the room. Tilting her head up, she finally smiled. Her idea was rapidly forming. She left the room and the rest of the penthouse without a word.
OP
Charlotte sat on the park bench, sunlight warming her shoulders. She people watched. Joggers and dog walkers moved along the pavement. Families' picnicked on bright blankets and there were children flying kites. Couples milled around the trees and a few lone people reading books.
There was movement from her peripheral vision. A hand coming near her face. Charlotte jumped. She had to crane up to see the rest of the body attached to that hand.
"M-Mr. Grey?" she yelped. "What are you doing here?"
Mr. Grey loomed over her, a rather neutral expression on his face as he stared down at her. Without out missing a beat, he spoke.
"You left this in my office."
His hand was still held out to her. Charlotte squinted, realizing that he was holding a slim object in between his fingers. It was her hair pin that had a single, small star-shaped flower at the end. For just a moment, Charlotte hesitated to take it back. Grey's eyes flashed. Her hand darted forward to take back her hairpin and his own hand closed around hers. The charm bracelet jangled on her wrist, the sound too loud to her ears.
"Miss Dalton." he said.
"Yes?"
"I think I'm going to have to take you out for brunch." It didn't sound like a question.
"Uh...alright?"
He nodded to himself. "Good."
Pulling her up by the wrist, Charlotte stumbled to her feet. Grey led her by the hand and into his car. Scrambling to find her balance in the backseat, she finally fumbled with the seat belt. Grey shut her door for her before coming back to his side and shutting his own door. With that, she was whisked off. They were led downtown, where they were finally at a row of restaurants and shops.
Grey opened her door and Charlotte smiled in thanks. He returned it with a brisk nod. Charlotte said nothing as Grey found them a table at a coffee shop, taking a seat outside. When both of them still have cups of coffee, did Charlotte start to speak.
"So..."
"So." Grey said. "A journalism major that wrote a story on a CEO and yet she didn't wonder about the story?"
"Well, it wasn't really my story to tell." she said.
Grey raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps there's a chapter in there for you." he said.
"What do you mean?"
Grey, who had been sipping his latte, spoke up. "So, you're new to Seattle?" he asked.
Charlotte blinked. "How did you know?"
"Just a guess. By your accent I'm guessing somewhere in the southern region." he smirked.
"Lucky guess." she said. "It's Georgia by the way."
"Indeed." Grey said.
His voice made her shudder and she had to drop her gaze, but not before she could have sworn she saw him smirk. Charlotte took a swig of coffee to cover her expression.
"I wonder what that smile is for." Mr. Grey stated.
Charlotte shrugged. "No special reason." She said. "I'm just surprised you found me."
He raised an eyebrow. "Found you? You were expecting me?"
Charlotte coughed into her cup. "Not really. Just…like I said, surprised. I don't remember telling you anything about me."
"I have a few lucky guess." He murmured. "I was just wondering about you."
"About time." She whispered.
Mr. Grey looked up sharply at her and Charlotte ducked down her head. A new light came into Mr. Grey's eyes. He stood up, chair scraping the pavement. It wobbled as he held out his hand to her.
"Come."
OP
Charlotte hung suspended by the ceiling. The red room was spacious. A bed in the center of the room. Its most defining feature was the red leather mattress. On the left and right were racks of whips, floggers, and riding crops. A dresser full of sex toys rested in each of its drawers. A reclining couch faced the bed. A Saint Andrew's cross stood in the corner and it was rather wide in terms of its sections. Thick straps dangled on each end. The ceiling that she was suspended on was only such as it was a three feet's worth of grate-like structure. She wasn't harnessed in, but was hanging only by her wrists by thick straps. The grate suspension was tilted down at a 45 degree angle. Wearing nothing but panties, she kept still as Grey stared up at her. She kept her eyes lowered. The iPod played a selection of Gregorian chants on a loop. It was just loud enough to distract from any other sounds in the room.
"Now, you're not going to come until I say so." He said.
"Y-yes sir." She said.
"Now I'm going to whip you, Charlotte." He said.
Grey turned around to take the preferred flogger. He missed the way she looked up and rolled her eyes. Turning her head, her fist clenched her hair pin. Fingers twisting the pin out of shape as she adjusted her wrists. Charlotte's head whipped her head back around, staring at her back.
When he turned back around, she lowered her eyes. She kept her eyes down cast as he flicked the flogger along her thighs. He had a pattern. Two light little flicks and then a heavy handed blow. Grey put his hands on her ass, fingers creeping closer to her vagina. Probing at her lips, he scowled when she twisted her hips. Grey slid his hand back up to her hip as he took the flogger and whipped it at her ass. The lash was blunt, but Charlotte didn't make a sound.
"Oh, baby, you're already wet." Grey's voice was as slippery as the content of his words.
Grey's hands slid higher up as he moved to her front, kissing her navel. Charlotte's eyes were heavy lidded, thick lashes obscuring her eyes. She bit her lip and Grey sucked in a breath.
"Now I have no choice. I. Am. Going. To. Fuck. You."
Grey pulled a condom from his jeans pocket. He then stepped out of his pants and boxers, kicking them aside. He rolled the condom on and Charlotte moved her hips forward. He smirked at the sight. Grey was brushing up to her, dick poking at her belly button. He grabbed her thighs, flesh digging into her muscles. Yanking her legs forward, he kept manipulating them about his hips. The chains rattled above her head. Charlotte wrapped her legs around Grey's waist.
Just as he was about to enter her, Charlotte moved. She swung upwards, unhooking her legs from his waist. Her momentum carried her forward. She wrapped her legs around his neck, thighs trapping his head in between in them. Charlotte's hands gripped the grate, fingers digging into the openings of the bars. Arms straining, she pulled her upper body so that she gained even more momentum-
Charlotte's restraints snapped, freeing her hands. Grey couldn't move and Charlotte twisted, performing a hurricanrana. Grey landed in a heap, groaning. His limbs feebly waved as he tried to readjust himself. Charlotte slid away from him, unrolling into a three point landing.
Grey looked up at her with flashing eyes. He turned over on his back, still struggling to sit up. "Bitch." he hissed.
Unfurling from her pose, she strode forward. Charlotte brought the heel of her foot down, stomping on Grey's erection. He howled. Doubling over and retching; he no longer tried to move. Instead he began cursing at her, spit flying out his mouth. Unperturbed, Charlotte walked over to the dresser containing the sex toys and found a ball gag in one of the dressers. She went back over to Grey, shoving the ball into his mouth and buckling it tight.
Grey didn't stop his muffled diatribe, as hate burned in his eyes. Charlotte didn't blink. In fact she bent down, pressing her hands on his shoulder and back. With a sharp blow, she dislocated his left shoulder. Grey blanched, sliding back down onto the ground. He tried to clutch at his arm, but one hand slide over to cover his groin. She was one the move again, finding the filament rope Grey had squirreled away in another one of his dresser drawers. Walking back to Grey, she took the rope and tied him at the joints in his arms.
Grey howled again, the sound muffled by the gag. The rope was a two hundred feet at least. She bent down over him, wrapping around his chest. Grey bucked his hips, drawing up his knees. He kicked out and Charlotte inclined her head, avoiding the kicks with ease. Instead she brought her heel back to his crotch, putting just enough pressure for Grey to still his movements. Grey yelped. Charlotte used a strangle knot around Grey's neck.
Charlotte took the excess length of the rope and threw it up and over the ceiling where she had just been suspended. A small piece of the rope dangled through one of the holes in the grate. She grabbed it, pulling it down and Grey slid across the ground. His grunts of pain were choked off as he was lifted off his feet, dangling in the air. Grey flopped like a fish as he was hanging by his neck from the ceiling. His arms had limited movement due to the improper but tight knots. His dislocated shoulder was beginning bruise, a thick bump twitching as he tried to escape. He was turning purple in the face.
Lowering the rope, Grey dropped down to the floor with a heavy thud. His chest was heaving and it didn't cease but increased in speed as Charlotte manipulated the rope. She dragged him left and right and long streaks of blood appeared on the floor. The rope frayed about his chest, fibers digging into the now tearing skin. Splotches of blood decorated the rope as new found bruises spread over him like a stain. Without warning, Charlotte yanked him off his feet and let him dangle for a few minutes before dropping him down again.
Charlotte grabbed him by his dislocated shoulder and dragged him to his Saint Andrew's cross. She didn't bother to remove the ropes as she chained him to the cross. Grey struggled. His dislocated shoulder was tugged upwards and that hand was trapped in the restraint. Grey swung forward, trying to throw a punch. Without missing a beat, Charlotte slammed the heel of her hand into Grey's sternum. His right arm flopped back and she then pressed her fingers up against Grey's rib cage, digging underneath the skin. Right arm now limp, she lifted it up and bound it at well. Grey even tried to kick at her as she tied down his ankles.
Charlotte tilted her head, staring at Grey. Eyes cold as she regarded him for just a single moment. She didn't smile, even as Grey stiffened in response. He stared at her with wide eyes. Charlotte turned on her heel, beginning to speak.
"So." she said. "You've been very busy." she picked up a blindfold. "Sending shipments to Darfur...having some trouble there?" Grey stilled, whipping his head around to stare at her with wide eyes. She continued. "You're trying to buy up companies left and right, so you're going broke. Oh, and there's also that little habit of stalking and raping women."
Grey's answering cry was vague enough that she actually laughed. His eyes narrowed and she walked over to him. He twisted his head to avoid her outstretched hands. Lightening fast, she shot out her hand, and grabbed his chin. Yanking by the chin, she forced him to look at him. She removed her hand and punched him in the face, breaking his nose. A small spurt of blood splashed down onto the ball gag.
Charlotte put the mask over Grey's eyes. His voice turned into a strangled groan as he tried to breathe. Charlotte walked away from him and went to the door, where her clothes were folded in a small pile. She quickly got dressed. Putting on a pair of gloves, latex snapping once they hit her wrists. Striding back to the drawer full of toys, she found a rather plain dildo. It was a silver and rather wide, ending in a crude bump. The drawer below it held a ball stretcher and a cock ring. She found a panic snap in a different drawer.
Taking the toys to Grey, she set to work. The metal of the the cock ring was lighter in her hand than the weighty ball stretcher. At the touch of her fingers at the base of his penis, Grey flinched. Charlotte snickered.
"Guess you're a grower, not a shower." she said.
Despite the gloves, she kept skin contact to a minimum. She fitted the ball stretcher first. His testicles yanking down from the metal and Grey gave a pained groan. She kept it a tight fit as she then put the cock ring as far as it could go along his shaft. It held. Charlotte grabbed the dildo and stood up, whispering in his ear.
"You will not enjoy this."
Without warning she thrust the dildo inside his anus. The force of her shove was enough to cause Grey's hips to lift of their own accord. Only a few inches of the dildo remained visible. A foul smell emanated from his backside and she darted back before brown trickled down the back of his thighs in a liquid like consistency. He screamed, gag barely holding the noise back. His chest heaved, nostrils wide as he tried to suck in air, and his adam's apple bobbed up and down. Sweat beaded down his body. When she moved to the right, Grey's head jerked in her direction. Charlotte twirled the panic snap by its lock.
"I doubt those women liked it either." she said. "It takes a special kind of man to get kicked out of 'Babeland' and CSPC. Of course," she looked down to Grey to stare at his penis. "But that doesn't surprise me, seeing as how you like what I'm doing to you."
He growled in response. Charlotte laughed and she patted his cheek. She held up the panic snap, the one end that remained unlatched was jagged. Running her thumb along the edge, she smiled when she pricked herself. Leaning over Grey, she let the edge of the snap hover over his skin.
"No wonder you're so promiscuous. You like to pile drive into these women, trying to punish the mother you can barely remember." she said.
Grey's thick words were curses but she didn't pay attention. Charlotte interrupted him.
"Here's an idea: for every woman you've hurt, You get a letter." Charlotte pressed the edge of the panic snap to his his sternum until she broke the skin. Grey screamed. "Eve." she said. Charlotte carved the word 'I' into his sternum. Grey tried to shake her off, chest heaving. "Don't move." she said.
Dragging the snap to the left side of his chest, just below the collar bone she carved an 'A'.
"Roxie." she said. She continued with an 'M'. "Jane."
'AM' was written on his left breast. She wiped away the sweat from his pectorals. Setting the snap across to the right, she noticed a small spattering white, circular scars. She poked one and Grey flinched, straining against his restraints. Charlotte stabbed the snap down, slashing the scar as she carved another letter over the scar. He screamed as she wrote an 'A.' Blood spurting as she cut into his nipple.
"Lillian." she said.
She lowered the snap, just below the left breast and where she could feel the top half of his ribs. Digging the implement across his chest. 'R'.
"Nina."
The letter 'A.'
"Louise."
The letter 'P.'
"Jo."
The letter 'I.'
"Rachel."
The letter 'S.'
"Deirdre."
The letter 'T.'
"Victoria."
Blood oozed down from the gaping cuts. Her hand swung down to his abdomen, ignoring his raspy breathing. He was shaking so hard, her own hand was trembling. She pressed her free hand into his stomach, and he went still at once.
The letter 'P.'
"Melissa."
The letter 'I.'
"Beth."
The letter 'G.'
"Tessa."
The angry carving of block letters seeped out blood. The word was carved in the center of his stomach and just lowered a few inches just above his navel. Charlotte wiped the blood splattered snap. Bits of gore clung to the jagged edge. Flicking his fingers, the gore splashed onto the floor. Grey moaned, head leaning onto his right shoulder. Charlotte pressed the snap back to his skin just above his belly button. She took a deep drag, forming the letter 'F'.
"This one's for Leila, you asshole."
The snap caught on his happy trail, ripping the hairs out and catching in the cuts. The next letter was a 'K.'
"For Sussanah."
Despite being unable to see her lips curl up and baring her teeth, or the cold fury in her eyes, Grey still shuddered, pulling away as his breathing began to spiral out of control. She dug down, burrowing into the flesh. Grey bucked and her hand slipped. The letter became more crooked than the others. A line became a slash, cutting into his belly button, and stopping just above his pubic line. The letter 'R' was messier than the rest of them.
"Me." she hissed.
She dropped the panic slip, the metal echoing on the floor. Stepping back to admire the handiwork, she clicked her tongue. Charlotte removed the blindfold, hitching it up in Grey's rat's nest of hair. He didn't move his head, blinking rapidly. Tears had been streaming down his face and he squinted up at her. Hate and fear reflected back at her from his now glassy eyes. The next words were clear enough, despite the gag that she could get the general gist of what he said.
'I'll find you.'
She laughed. "I'd like to see you try." she squatted down to get the extra lenght of rope pooling at her feet. "Funny, that you think that my name is actually Charlotte."
Grey's skin color matched his name as his eyes stuttered, as if his blinking mechanism was malfunctioning. She continued as if she hadn't noticed.
"Even more funny, is that you think you'll have any power once it gets out what you get up to. You, Elena Lincoln, and your...company." she sneered. "It'll be newsworthy for sure."
Standing up, she held the rope in her hands and stared at his crotch. His testicles were distended and swollen. Bruises bloomed in greens and purples as his veins stood out against the skin. That wasn't what truly gained Charlotte's attention. Grey followed her gaze. His penis was white, circulation cut off. The skin around the base where the ring was tight and swollen, the color a deep purple. It seemed to sag despite still being erect, as if the cock ring was the only thing keeping it upright. Charlotte and her rope inched closer to Grey. She looped the the filament rope around the base of the shaft of his penis.
"I would have used a knife but that's one of your hard limits."
Charlotte looked up at him and grinned. His eyes widened to comical proportions, the whites of his eyes looked bloated. Grey shook his head back and forth, his mantra of 'no' was audible even as she began to saw the rope against Grey's skin. Blood gushed as the rope bore down. The rope frayed, strands catching on the flaps of skin that sloughed and teared. Grey screamed. Hyperventilating, more blood flecked down from his nose and he choked. A few more wrenching tugs and Grey's penis flopped onto the ground between his feet. His eyes rolled up in his head and he finally went limp.
Blood pooled all over the floor. He was pale, so that bruises were vivid and bright against the skin. She allowed herself a minute to stare at her handiwork. There wasn't much of her things to gather up, but she took off the gloves and threw them into a hidden away trashcan. She ripped a piece of satin bed sheet apart and used it to pick up the penis and wrapped it inside the fabric. She put the blindfold back over his eyes. Charlotte held her prize and left the room.
OP
The SkyCity was busy again and she sat at the same booth she did the last time. She took another sip of whiskey just as Mr. Penn and Slatterly moved through the milling crowd. Slatterly didn't slide as far into the booth as far as he did the last time. Mr. Penn edged his way onto the corner of his seat, knees tucked together to keep from kicking at her ankles. They ordered drinks and she freshened up hers.
"Get what you needed, McClane?" Slatterly asked.
She nodded. "Did you?"
Slatterly set the attache case onto the table, pushing his drink aside to open his case. He kept it by his side, out of her reach. Rolling her eyes, McClane put down a foot locker shopping bag onto the table. She slid it forward to them. Mr. Penn eyed her as Slatterly prodded the bag. He took out a manila envelope and handed it to Mr. Penn before he took out a shoe box and peeked inside.
He went pale, looking back and forth between her and the shoe box. "Jesus fuck." he gave a shaky laugh. "Holy shit. I-I-Daaaaamn girl."
Mr. Penn frowned, looking up from examining the manila's contents. Setting the folder down, he took the shoe box from Slatterly. He took a quick look. blanched, doing a double take. He began to shake and he set the box's cover back onto the box with a little flourish. He shoved the box back to Slattery and took a swig of his water. Mr. Penn nodded and Slatterly gave the attache case to McClane, who took her bag and transferred the money from the attache to her bag. She took another swig of her drink.
"Pleasure doing business with you." she said.
Mr. Penn nodded, putting the envelope back in the bag. He stood up and Slatterly followed suit, taking a final drink of his beer. Mr. Penn's eyes darted as his partner took his time. Slatterly held the bag up and he grinned at McClane before turning and strode out with Mr. Penn. They stood in the elevator, watching her finish her drink. Slatterly turned to Mr. Penn, a nervous grin still on his features despite the fact that they were safe in the elevator.
"I told you hiring the Black Widow was a good idea."
"If you say so."
The doors shut with a soft 'whoosh'.
She turned away from the elevator, picked up her bag, and headed to the observation deck. The floor began to move and she navigated it with ease. People milled around the observation deck. With her bag slung over her shoulder, she leaned against the railing. The ambient light filtered down around her, casting a little sheen to her. She had already taken all the dye out of her hair to the original red.
The sight of the Seattle skyline did not move her as the overcast sky loomed overhead. She smiled as it began to to rain.
OP