A/N Sorry for the long delay. My computer got fried by a power surge and it took over three weeks to get it back. Luckily the hard drive is okay, but still...it was frustrating, to say the least. This story has since gone in a new direction. As always I have to let it lead.
GRISSOM VS. THE DOMINATRIX
CHAPTER FIVE
Heather opened the heavy wood door and regarded him cooly. "Grissom. I wasn't expecting you."
"I know. I should have called. I didn't know I was coming."
"Then what are you doing here?"
Grissom tilted his head to the side, his eyes pleading. Heather led him inside.
As the bedroom door closed he paused.
"Wait," Gris urged. He reached out and pulled her by the hand and kissed her for the very first time. Her mouth was soft. Warm. He could feel the chemistry between them. But no love. He pulled away and wiped his lips with the back of his hand, his eyes wide in confusion.
"Did you like that?" Heather asked, curious. He could tell she didn't feel anything either.
"Yes, but..."
"But you don't love me. I'm not the one you love."
"No," Grissom said honestly. "You're not. But I...want you."
"I want you too. But I don't love you either," she said, her voice bitter. His eyes flicked up to her and then back to the carpet.
"So you're here because you can't or won't be with...your girlfriend. Did you have a fight?"
"She's not my girlfriend. We didn't exactly have a fight."
"Then...what?"
"When I see her..." Grissom paused and quoted, his eyes distant: "When we've been apart, and I'm looking forward to seeing you, every thought is burnt up in a great flame. But then you come, and you're so much more than I remembered, and what I want of you is so much more than an hour or two every now and then, with wastes of thirsty waiting in between, that I can sit perfectly still beside you, like this, just quietly trusting it to come true."
"Who is that?"
"Edith Wharton. The Age of Innocence."
"Ah. A tragic love story. There was a movie–with Daniel Day Lewis?"
"Yes, that's it."
"I seem to remember the hero was unhappily married. An arranged marriage?"
Grissom nodded and took over the story. "He fell in love with a beautiful young woman who was in disgrace because she was divorced. Shunned by all, friends and family. But-- he felt bound and compelled by society to remain faithful to his wife. And he struggled to repress his feelings for the divorceè..."
"Even though she clearly felt the same. And was in love with him," Heather continued, her eyes showing puzzlement. "He cut all ties to her. When he was an old man he tracked down this great love of his life and sat alone beneath her apartment, but couldn't get up the nerve to even go up and see her. Is that how you see your life?"
"Not exactly."
"I don't understand. You aren't married."
"No."
"Is she?"
"No."
"And I'm guessing she wants more that to wait for 'it' to come true? More than just to sit quietly alongside you?" Heather asked sarcastically.
"She does. And so do I."
"You love her? She loves you? You desire each other?" Her eyes were angry and dark and he could not look away for once.
"Yes."
"You love each other. You desire each other. What's stopping you?" Now her voice was rising in disbelief.
Grissom tried to speak but his mouth felt like it was full of cotton.
"What is it? Tell me." Heather's voice was less harsh but still demanding.
"I...I'm afraid."
"Of what?"
"Of losing myself in her. Of giving her my heart to break if she chooses."
"So it's better to break her heart instead?" she said acidly.
"No! I...I don't want to hurt her. But...I do."
"And?" Heather urged.
"I...I've repressed any and all emotion for so long that..."
"You think you don't know how to love?"
Grissom could only look at her, his eyes vulnerable.
Heather sighed deeply. "Gil." His eyes widened at the use of his first name but she went on. "Everyone knows how to love. And fall in love. That's why they call it falling. You just jump out there, give in to it, and if you get hurt when you land, than at least you have tried. If you don't try," she reached for his hand, "it will kill you inside. You'll end up bitter and angry and sad."
"And lonely." Gil pulled his hand away.
"Yes. Lonely." Heather walked back and forth. "We all are, at one time or another. Is she lonely?"
"Very."
"So you're denying her what you're denying yourself."
"I suppose."
"No. You know you are. So...this story. You see yourself as the hero, who loves and desires and wants someone who loves him deeply, but pushes her away instead. He does what a repressive society insists he do, stay with a wife out of obligation and convention, even though he does not love her. The wife is sweet and simple and trusting. The temptress is vulnerable and needs him too, as she has no one else, and he feels sorry for her. He ends up hurting both women, but mostly the temptress."
"Yes."
"So...I'm divorced...so I'm the temptress?"
"I think so." Grissom stood and looked out the window. "Yes. But it's not the same situation. I'm not married to you or anyone–but I guess you could say I'm married to my work. I'm not obligated to you. I just want sex from you. You tempted me and I gave in to my base desires and let...that...happen. I hate that I betrayed the one I love. I feel guilty. I am guilty. I hate that I hurt her. I hate myself."
"So you want to be punished, then." Heather sighed. "You want me to hurt you because this is what I do. Because I'm a dominatrix."
Grissom bit his lip and nodded guiltily.
"Can you take it?"
"I think so."
"Ask for it."
"Punish me, Lady Heather. Hurt me. I deserve it."
Her voice was hard. "Enough. Get your clothes off. I'll be back."
Grissom took off his clothes and folded them in a pile. He sat on the bed, his hands covering himself. Heather strode back in with a long thin cane in her hand. He eyed it nervously. Harshly, she ordered him to stand at the foot of the bed. He did. Heather looped leather straps around his wrists and tied his hands to the bedposts.
"Now," Heather said. "You're going to tell me why you're here."
"You know why I'm here," Grissom said. Smack! A hard blow across his buttocks.
"I do, but you don't," Heather said. "Why are you here?"
"Because I want you." Smack! He flinched and pulled on the restraints.
"You are here because I'm a dominatrix, am I right?"
"Uh..."
"Am I right?" Smack!
"Yes! You're right, Lady Heather."
"Okay. Now we're getting somewhere. Why are you here and not with the woman you love?"
"I...I don't know."
"Bullshit. Why...are...you...here, Grissom."
"I want to...fuck." He spat out the words, tasting bile in his mouth.
"But not make love." Her voice was laced with disappointment and disapproval. He felt it.
"No." A whimper.
"No more hiding. Tell me the truth or it will really hurt," she threatened.
"I want...someone else," Grissom muttered.
"Better. Who is she?"
"Sara Sidle."
"Do you love this Sara?"
"Yes."
"Are you in love with her?" When he paused the cane whistled and cut.
"ARE YOU IN LOVE WITH SARA?" Heather yelled at him.
"YES! Yes! I am!!"
"Why? What is it about Sara?"
"She's...beautiful. Smart. Kind. Forgiving. Brilliant. When she..." Heather waited. "When she brushes against me, I feel..."
"What?"
"Electricity. Passion. Elation. Joy."
"And we both know that only happens when the other feels the same, right?"
"Right."
"Is she in love with you?"
"I...think so..." The cane bit into his legs.
"You know it. Say it!" Smack!
"Sara's in love with me!"
"So, what? Are you gay?"
"NO!"
"But you liked getting fucked in the ass."
"I did," Grissom said, humiliated.
"I know. I felt it. It was...an experiment. That's what scientists do, isn't it," she demanded scornfully. "Experiment?"
"Yes," he whispered.
"So, you were using me?"
"I...yes, I was. I'm sorry."
"Sorry is just a word."
"I...don't know what else to say."
"Yeah. You're a sorry excuse for a man. You're sorry that someone is telling you what you already know."
Grissom was silent.
"I can read you. You try to hide but it only makes you more transparent. And I could feel how much you enjoyed it–but you were thinking about someone else."
"Yes. I did," Grissom admitted. "I was using you."
"So you want to make love to Sara. Not get fucked by me."
"Yes, Lady Heather."
"Good. Be honest. What do you want from Sara?"
"I...want a relationship. I want...I want to be with her."
"And she knows this? You flirt?"
"Yes. We do." Crack!
"And then what?"
"Then I...OW!!"
"Are you good to her?"
"No! I'm rude...thoughtless...cruel."
"Is she good to you?"
"Y...yes. Very good to me."
"Is she in love with you?" When he hesitated, Heather hit him.
"Yes. Sara is in love with me." Grissom's voice was low and full of shame. The blows stopped briefly.
"Sara loves me. Sara is in love with me." Grissom was sobbing.
"Say it! Say you're in love with Sara!"
"I'm in love with Sara Sidle!"
"Was that so hard?"
"Yes. No! I don't know!" Whack!
"You want me to hurt you. Dominate you. You want me to punish you," Heather reminded. "Tell me about Sara. Now."
"I asked her to come to Vegas. I've been in love with her since we met, six years ago."
"Six years?" Heather said incredulously. "You've been in love with Sara for six damn years?"
"Ouch! Yes."
"Have you ever told her?"
"Ow! Ouch! No!"
Crack! "You've never gone on a date? You've never even asked her out?"
"No." Whack!
"Kissed her?"
"No!" Smack!
"Then why are you here?"
"I...I can't...I can't be with her!" There was a whistling noise and a sharp pain across his buttocks. Grissom gasped then yelled in pain.
"Why are you here and not with Sara?" Heather demanded. Grissom thought desperately.
"She's too young for me." The cane struck the back of his legs.
"That's a stupid reason," Heather said. "Why?"
"She's...too beautiful. Too good for me."
Heather laughed coldly and hit him again, harder. "That's even stupider."
"I'm her boss," Grissom told her. His eyes filled with tears, from the pain and from the shame.
"So?" Another blow.
"So, she could get fired. It could ruin her career. I...I don't want to hurt her."
"Aren't you hurting her by withholding your love?" There was a pause, and Heather struck him hard to get an answer.
"Yes! Yes! I'm hurting Sara!"
"Are you breaking her heart?"
Crack! "Yes!"
"Do you deserve to be punished?"
"Yes! Ouch!"
"All right. Tell me why you deserve to be punished." With every heaving breath, Grissom choked out a memory. The gates opened and every hurtful thing he'd said or done or not said or not done came out in a jumble. Heather moved to the head of the bed to face him and listened, flexing the cane between her hands. The almost promotion, how he worked her ragged, the DUI, the time she wanted to quit and he told her, The lab needs you, instead of telling her the truth: I need you Sara. Don't leave me--I love you. I'd be lost without you. He told Heather of the rare times she had broken down in tears, and that she told him of her abusive childhood and the murder of her father and he could only hold her hand. How every kind and affectionate word caught in his throat when she looked at him. How her sweet voice made him mute. How the burning desire to hold her in his arms instead made him freeze. Heather sighed in disappointment and listened.
When Grissom told Heather that he punished her when he found out she was dating someone else she slapped him so hard he screamed.
"You bastard! You keep stringing her along! You don't let yourself love her, but she can't be with anyone else??"
"Yes. I do that! I...."
"Why?"
"I don't know!"
"You're hurting Sara by being here! You can get fucked but she can't go on a date?? You know this! You come to me to fuck and get fucked and then go home. Would you want her to find out?"
"NO! Never! She would hate me!"
"Do you hate yourself for coming here?"
"Yes! I feel...dirty."
"Oh, you are dirty, all right. You deserve this." Smack! "And she puts up with your bullshit?"
"Yes! Ow! She always forgives me...God help me!"
"God can't help you here. What else?"
"There was an explosion. At the lab. Sara was injured."
"What did you do?"
"Her hand was cut. Bleeding. She was in shock. I got a paramedic."
Again the beating stopped briefly. "Did you go with her?"
"No. I went back to work. So did she. The same day."
"And then what happened?"
"She asked me to dinner. I said...No." The cane whistled through the air. This time he could feel blood trickle down his thigh and he yelled out.
"She could have died! You said 'No!?' How could you do that? How could you hurt her like that!"
"I thought it was just the adrenaline, of her having been blown up and thrown against the wall. I was about to schedule my ear surgery...Ow!...and all I could think was I didn't want her to pity me or see me as flawed--unworthy. OW!"
"Did you tell her about your hearing loss?"
"No."
Heather stopped. She stared into his eyes with repulsion. His eyes filled with tears and ran down his face. Heather untied him. She grabbed a towel and threw it at his head and he wiped his eyes and cheeks.. Heather snatched it and swiped it roughly across the angry welts and cuts across his ass and thighs. He gasped and whimpered and flinched and hung his head.
"Jesus, you really are an asshole, Grissom."
"Yeah. I am."
"Get out."
"But you...but we..."
"Get out! I'm disgusted with you. I thought you were an honorable man." When he hung his head in silence she continued. "Feel each wound. Let them remind you of the wounds you have inflicted on Sara's heart. You're a Catholic, am I right?"
"Yes. I was raised Catholic."
"So you've given your confession. You've been scourged. Done penance. Go and sin no more." The door slammed and Grissom was alone.
TBC