Vegas was as glittery, hot, crowded, and noisy as Tony remembered from his other visits. He liked to go at least once a year to let off a different kind of steam than the trips to spring break. The kind of steam that would probably get him arrested in Florida barely caused a blip on the Vegas radar. He took his first day and early evening to just wander the strip, gambling when a brightly flashing game caught his eye, people watching as he got used to the area again.

He enjoyed the freedom that came with anonymity as much as, maybe more than, any perp. All the stress that came with being a Federal Agent, all the recognition and power it brought wore him down over time until he had to find a way to let it all go so he could start over and do his job to the best of his ability.

Unfortunately, Tony came on a crime scene being processed that night, which ruined the carefree vibe he’d managed to drum up throughout the day. He watched from the side of the crowd as the local CSU went over everything with a thoroughness that Gibbs would have admired. A beautiful blond woman, a young guy with stylishly messy hair, and another woman, dark haired this time, took pictures and collected evidence.

A few minutes into the unexpected reminder of his job, a black SUV arrived and a man got out. Tony didn’t really notice him until the cops stepped aside to let him through, keeping the crowd well away from the man. He was probably Gibbs’ age with salt-n-pepper hair and a darkish beard, handsome features, and a quiet authority to which everyone deferred, even the cops. Surprised and instantly attracted by that, Tony stuck around to watch the man work. He was an expert, no doubt about that. The way he talked to the others was quiet and confident, but not arrogant, furthering the attraction.

It was when the man scanned the crowd, probably to see who was hanging around, that their eyes met. From several feet away it was impossible to tell what color they were, even with Tony’s sight, but the piercing intensity in them was unmistakable. Tony had to consciously lock his knees in order not to embarrass himself. Flushing, Tony looked to the ground to regain control of himself for a few seconds. When his head lifted again, the man was gazing elsewhere and Tony used the opportunity to slip away.

Holy fuck! Tony thought as he took slow breaths to calm down. I need this a hell of a lot more than I thought I did if a stranger can make me want to drop to my knees in the middle of the street! Jesus. I better call Lady Heather tonight to make an appointment for tomorrow.

Shaken, he hurried back to his hotel.

*  *  *  *

It wasn’t often that Gil found himself back at Lady Heather’s establishment. After he’d mistakenly brought her in for questioning, things had been awkward between them for a long time. To be honest, the awkwardness had all been on his side, but that didn’t make it any less real. When he’d finally come to terms with his distrust and how it had caused him to overreact, Gil had been able to meet with her and apologize without feeling like he’d lost face. Being the gracious woman that she was, Heather hadn’t held his actions against him and accepted his apology.

After seeing that young man on The Strip the night before, Gil had started feeling that itch again. He’d been gorgeous; tall and strong, thick brown hair and an incredibly open face that had practically begged for someone to push him down on his knees. Gil had been able to see that in a matter of seconds despite the distance, and had fully planned to take him aside after the scene had been processed, but the man had disappeared without a trace.

Fortunately, he had the next two days off since they’d managed to clear the case in nearly that same hour. The poor woman who’d been an abused wife for fifteen years had finally snapped, shooting her husband in the middle of a crowded street when he’d backhanded her in front of witnesses. It was a sober counterweight to the urges he had to bend someone over like that beautiful young man and take a switch or a whip to perfect skin and mar it, however temporarily.

Sometimes Gil had to take a few days and make sure that he was in complete control of himself before even thinking about calling Lady Heather. But all he really had to do was think of that woman or others like her and know that he wouldn’t ever be like that. The men he punished, the men he fucked and sometimes raped depending on his mood, they were there because they wanted to be there. They craved exactly what he needed to give and Gil knew just how to give it. He’d been doing it for a long time and it was as much a part of him as breathing.

Gil smiled faintly on hearing moans and cries waft down from the second level. It sounded like a full house and he said as much to Heather when she greeted him. “Are you sure you have room for me?”

“I not only have room, I have the perfect man for you,” she replied, tucking her arm around his and leading him to the stairs. “He comes to town about once a year and is one of the most natural submissives I’ve ever met. Well trained, despite the lack of a permanent Master, and obedient. He’s had some trouble lately, works in law enforcement, so it will probably be more difficult for him to let go tonight, but you can be sure that he wants to. I’ve rarely seen the poor boy wound so tight, so desperate to be made to let go. You are just what he needs.”

“Sounds like a match made in Heaven,” Gil murmured.

She smiled. “Oh it is, Gilbert, trust me.”

Taking her hand, Gil kissed it and replied, “I do.”

Lady Heather nodded towards a door at the end of the hall. “He’s already bound and blindfolded, waiting for whatever you want to dish out.”

“Recommendations and safeword?”

“He can take quite a lot. I’d start out with the paddle and work him over good with the crop. Don’t stop until he truly starts to cry, or he won’t get what he needs,” she told him. “And his safeword is basketball.”

Gil grinned briefly and observed, “A sports fan.”

“A disappointed athlete, unfortunately, due to injury,” Heather corrected.

Oh. Well that makes sense then, Gil thought. “Thank you.”

She kissed his cheek and said, “You’re welcome, Gilbert. Be very stern and harsh with him until he breaks and, well, you know what to do. I’m sorry about being such a busy body, but he’s a special man.”

Gil returned the brief kiss to her cheek. “I can see that. Thank you for trusting him with me.”

With a nod and another smile, Heather left him in the hall.

Looking at the door for a moment, Gil closed his eyes and took several slow, deep breaths, getting into the right spot for what was to come. His body was thrumming with energy and a buzz that was only present when he had someone completely under his control, or he was anticipating it.

Opening his eyes, Gil smiled coolly to no one at all and opened the door.

*  *  *  *

Tony’s ears strained as the door opened from behind him, but there was no sound save the quiet closing of the door a few seconds later. Whoever it was moved with a stealth that Gibbs would’ve been jealous of.

Stop thinking about him!

Angry with himself for letting work-thoughts intrude, Tony tugged futilely on the leather restraints that held him against the wooden post that was permanently embedded into the floor.

“It’s not going anywhere and neither are you.”

Tony froze at the warm, rich voice that spoke from a lot closer than should have been possible, fingers wrapping instinctively around the chains that were attached to his cuffs. There was just enough slack for him to be turned to various directions, but he definitely wasn’t going anywhere, like the voice said.

“Not for a long time.”

Swallowing nervously at the promise, Tony opened his mouth to ask something, though he wasn’t sure what, except a finger was laid across it.

“No speaking from here on out unless it’s your safeword, which is...?”

Tony licked his lips when the finger was removed and answered, “Basketball.”

“Very good.”

There was absolutely no warning between the praise and the hard slap of wood against his bare ass. Tony yelped in surprise, more than pain, and jerked away without thinking. The paddling began in full force and though he squirmed away from it, the man was relentless and there was no way that Tony could get away from it for real, not chained as he was. Even his ankles were cuffed into place.

It stopped as abruptly as it had started, leaving Tony panting and wrecked from the heat in his ass. It stung like a bitch, but felt so fucking good at the same time that he was groaning in pleasure.

“So pretty,” the man observed, trailing a single finger down Tony’s spine to scratch a nail over the tender skin.

Tony gasped at the additional pain that seemed somehow more than the paddling.

“I’m pleased that you found your way here. I was going to take you aside at the crime scene last night, but you disappeared too quickly.”

Shock ripped through him and he asked, “You were there? Are you a cop? Who are you?”

There was a disappointed noise and Tony abruptly remembered that he wasn’t supposed to talk. Warm lips sucked gently on his shoulder and a tongue slid down one shoulder blade to the spine that was still tingling from the finger. He moaned desperately when that tongue pushed inside his hole and he was skillfully and enthusiastically eaten out. It was one of the most embarrassing and difficult things for him to accept, having someone’s mouth on him there, and there was no way that he could have known that save Lady Heather telling him.

When it stopped, Tony sagged gratefully against the post...until the paddling started up again.

*  *  *  *

To coin a phrase, it was Christmas come early for Gil and he was thoroughly enjoying his present. Finding that young man from the crime scene literally wrapped up and waiting for him had instantly hardened his cock and sent a thrill through him that he hadn’t felt in far too long; maybe ever.

He’d slid off his shoes immediately, wanting to keep the other man on his toes, and taken a good long look at his slave before starting. Watching him strain against the cuffs, seeing the strong body helpless, the sweat beading and rolling down the grooves of muscle, it had hardened him further and yet added to his control. Gil wanted to make this man break down, wanted to split him open and put him back together again in such a way that it was to him that the man looked and no one else.

After the second paddling, when there was no real sign of tears that weren’t a purely physical response, Gil returned the instrument to its place on the dresser and picked up the crop. It could get places that the paddle couldn’t, after all. He took a minute to turn the young man so that he faced out, vulnerable in many ways that he hadn’t been.

Gil slid the crop over the broad chest then flicked the tip over each nipple before trailing it south to the straining dick. There was no cockring in place, he noted with satisfaction, and he wondered just how far he could go before the discipline was lost and the young man came without permission. When the crop lightly tapped the cock, goosebumps broke out over the smooth skin.

“I have as yet to punish you for speaking out of turn,” Gil commented, continuing to tap the crop up and down the shaft without impact.

His captive swallowed convulsively, but remained silent.

Smiling, Gil brought the lash down hard, but on the tender, deep-red ass cheek. The skin raised in response, red on red, and he took a moment to admire the straight, up and down line and observed, “Very nice.”

Unable to resist, Gil leaned in and gently pulled the lower lip from the other man’s teeth as he said, “That belongs to me and I don’t wish to mar Lady Heather’s carpet with your blood. Well, not from your lip, at least. You can cry out as much as you like, just no words, am I understood?”

There was a shaky nod and exhalation.

Gil moved close and took the swollen lip between his, sucking on it and then possessing the mouth itself in a first kiss. The young man whimpered as he was kissed, mouth falling open with a submissiveness that called to Gil. The kiss grew more aggressive until he was devouring, teeth clicking against teeth as Gil tried to explore every nook and cranny, every ridge on the palate, and the tonsils at the back. When he pulled back, Gil was breathing every bit as hard as his captive and licked the saliva from the corner of the man’s lips.

“You’re mine,” Gil informed him softly, but firmly. “I want to know your name. Your real and full name.”

There was a long moment when he thought the young man wasn’t going to answer. Gil could practically see the wheels turning in the other’s mind, consequences that could happen from that information being divulged.

At long last, the young man whispered, “Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo.”

Triumph filled him and Gil took his mouth in another hard kiss as a reward.

*  *  *  *

White panic filled him as the words left his mouth, but then another kiss obliterated all rational thought and any need to panic. It told him that he was okay, that he would be taken care of, that he could trust this man. Even if he hadn’t been given into the man’s care by Lady Heather, whom he trusted implicitly, Tony knew that this was the man who’d been in charge of the crime scene. He didn’t have a name yet, but he’d finally recognized the voice.

“Ssh, it’s okay Anthony, it’s going to be fine,” the man soothed, fingers combing through his hair. “You’re all right, I promise.”

Tony took a deep breath and slowly released it, instinctively believing what this man said. There was no mistaking the sincerity in his voice, it was there right with the command, and Tony responded to both.

After a brief silence, his new Master, and the man couldn’t be anyone else now, stated, “I’m going to punish you now and then I’m going to fuck you. If you come without permission, I’ll punish you again. When we’re done, I’m going to care for you and then we’ll talk.”

There was no need to reply, even if he hadn’t been forbidden to speak, because it was a simple outline, not a request for suggestions or opinions. Tony’s head fell back against the post with a thunk and he tried to brace himself for the crop.

The slice of a whip across his chest tore a shocked, pained cry from him.

*  *  *  *

Gil had used the panic and confusion to trade the crop for the whip, knowing that it wouldn’t cut through what needed to be dealt with. He could tell that this man, Anthony, was far stronger even than he looked, as well as far more vulnerable. Gil had made his living studying people and things, being able to assess them within minutes to determine guilt or innocence, and he used that skill tonight to full advantage.

Something had happened to push Anthony close to the edge of breaking without anyone to pick up the pieces. Certainly not within a safe environment like this. It actually hurt to think of this beautiful young man suffering all alone. Unfortunately, whatever that something was, it had also pushed his barriers up far past what had to be normal for him. Heather hadn’t said anything about needing more than the crop, but there had barely been a reaction to that, aside from the purely autonomic raising of skin into a welt.

He kept the blows hard enough to bring up angry wheals, but not going hard enough to break the skin. Not yet. Gil stopped when his arm began to grow tired, lowering it to look at the neatly spaced lines that went straight across the young man’s chest. The nipples looked particularly pained, not having been spared, red and swollen more so than the rest of the area. Leaning in, he whispered into Anthony’s ear, “It wasn’t your fault.”

Anthony jerked away in shock, mouth opening to protest.

Gil popped three fingers into the open mouth and ordered, “Suck them.”

Though hesitant at first, it took only a few seconds for Anthony to get up to speed, sucking on the fingers like a cock and his life depended on it.

“Listen to me, Anthony. It was not your fault,” Gil repeated, knowing suddenly that he was dealing with survivor’s guilt, if not exactly what kind. He’d seen it often enough over the years. It made sense, given the man was in law enforcement. Loss of a partner, perhaps? If so, perhaps he was going about this the wrong way.

Pulling his fingers free, Gil silently returned the whip to the table before retaking his place beside Anthony. Thinking about it a moment, he wrapped one hand around the slightly wilted cock and said firmly, “There was absolutely nothing that you could do. You’re alive and you’re going to remain that way. You’re going to live your life and continue to do good things with it. You’re going to feel pleasure in sex and love and obedience. You’re going to eat good food and listen to children laugh and see lovers as they kiss and stroll down a sidewalk. This is where you’re meant to be, Anthony, nowhere else. Not dead in the ground, not on some quest for vengeance that will get you killed in penance for something that is not your fault in the first place.”

During his impromptu speech, Gil had stroked the warm, mostly hard cock until it was back to its former strength. He saw the struggle on Anthony’s face not to feel good, the need to hold back more than just not having permission to come. He was eaten up inside and needed to let it all go, whatever it was that had happened.

“This guilt doesn’t belong to you any more, it belongs to me, just like the rest of you,” Gil continued, his mouth practically on Anthony’s ear. “I no longer allow you this guilt. You’re going to let it all go to please me. Just let it go, Anthony, that’s it. I can see how good you are, how much you want to give it up. So good, so pretty and obedient. That’s it, good my boy, very good, let it go now. Come for me, come for me!”

The cry that was torn from him along with the orgasm was heartrending, but Gil didn’t let up. Not until Anthony hung limp and shaking in his chains, crying in earnest with sobs shaking his body. Wiping the come from his hand, Gil bent down to undo the ankle cuffs first, then wrapped an arm around the other man’s waist to hold him as he undid the wrist manacles. Anthony practically fell into his arms, clinging to him as he cried.

Whispering soothing words, kissing the tear-stained face, Gil brought him over to the big bed and settled him under the covers. Taking a few seconds to strip, he crawled under the blankets as well. Once Anthony was curled around him, Gil took off the soaked cloth that had hidden Anthony’s eyes from him all this time. It was a long time before the young man was calm enough to accept the handkerchief that Gil offered to wipe his face. When hazel eyes shot through with red from the crying looked at him with something between gratitude and adoration, Gil smiled softly and asked, “Better?”

Anthony nodded shyly and pressed his face to Gil’s chest without answering.

Gil chuckled and kissed the top of his head, allowing it for the moment. “You did well, Anthony, I’m proud of you. I want you to speak now, tell me exactly what you think you need to feel guilty about, and then I want you to go to sleep and have no nightmares, but sleep deep and restful.”

Anthony’s voice was rusty at first, as he talked about the terrorist who had taken the life of a fellow agent, a woman who had been like a sister to him. But it grew in strength and fondness, replacing sadness, as he continued to talk about Kate herself, instead of her death.

Hiding a smile as the yawns grew more and more frequent, Gil finally ordered, “It’s time to sleep, Anthony. You can talk more about her tomorrow.”

“Master, may I ask you something?” Anthony questioned hesitantly.

Gil nodded. “Unless I’ve told you not to speak, you can ask me anything.”

“What’s your name?”

“Gil Grissom.”

With a deep sigh that turned into a yawn, Anthony smiled and mumbled, “S’nice name.”

Kissing the top of Anthony’s head, Gil repeated, “Sleep now. We’ll talk more in the morning.”

Among other things, Gil thought with an anticipatory smile as Tony fell asleep, heavy in his arms.