Author's Note: Okay, it's really been a while since I posted the first chapter of this... but I've now gotten around to finishing it off! As before, Gibbs' sections are in normal text, and Abby's are in italics. One other thing: when I say 'rack', I mean this (damn fanfiction-dot-net for not allowing links!):

www [dot] roissyworkshops [dot] co [dot] uk [slash] Images [slash] equipment [slash] Rack [dot] jpg

We get to my car, and she slides into the passenger seat at my command, sitting straight, her eyes tracking me as I skirt around the front end to the driver's door. When I get in and seal us into the confined space, she chances a look over at me, obviously burning to ask me something.

I ignore it on purpose, knowing she won't speak until I ask it of her. She hovers in the twilight state between normality and submissive, her head too full of questions for her to transition completely.

When I turn the car onto the main street, I glance across at her. "Your place or mine, little tease?"

Abby thinks for a second before answering. "It's your call, sir. But I don't know how much equipment you have at your place, and I have a rack."

Surprised, I make the turning toward her apartment. "Where?"

"In the room I always keep locked."

It's the one room in her apartment I've never been in, the one she lets people assume she uses for storage. Looks like tonight has more possibilities than I imagined.

I recognise the route back to my apartment, and my skin tingles with anticipation. In all the years I've wanted Gibbs, I never realised just how badly until this moment. I have so many things I want to ask him, but the instinct to submit to him overrides everything, and I sit quietly, trying to keep still.

When we get to my place I walk a pace behind him through the building, to my door. He stands aside to let me open it, and I shut it after us, turning the deadbolt before falling into a submissive posture – eyes down, hands behind my back, feet slightly apart.

He steps into my personal space, hooking his finger into my collar again. "Look at me, little tease."

I meet his eyes and flinch a little at the intensity in them, wondering how hard he plays, if I can take all he has to give. "Do you want this?" he asks, and I feel the caution behind the words, his need to be sure he isn't coercing me into anything. It's instantly reassuring, and I give a slight nod.

"Yes, sir."

He gives me a swift kiss, and I know the reply has pleased him. "Go to the rack, then. Clothes off, and wait for me."

I comply a little shakily, unlocking my play room and stepping inside. The rack takes up almost the entire space, and the only other thing I can fit in here is the cabinet where I keep my toys, but it's so worth it.

Quickly I strip away my clothing, the cool air hitting my burning flesh like a slap. Once I'm naked, I kneel by the rack, waiting for him.

I draw things out for five minutes, kicking off my shoes and gazing out of the window as I build up the suspense. I've thought of this moment almost constantly since I first saw her at the club a month ago, and now it's arrived I need to make it last.

I finally head down the hall to the door at the end, which is standing open. Abby is kneeling on the floor, which is a welcome surprise. She's a better sub than I'd imagined – how good, I have yet to find out.

"Good girl," I tell her, and can almost feel her gratification at the praise. "Stand up."

She rises in one graceful, practised motion. I run my hands over her skin, examining her slender figure and resisting the urge to just have my way with her now, forgoing the plans I have for the evening. When I trail a finger down her abdomen and over her clit, she shivers, her breath hitching in a suppressed gasp.

I kiss her, drawing back a little when she instinctively seeks to deepen it, making sure she knows exactly who's in control. Her entire body is trembling with expectation, and without breaking off I lift her off the ground, setting her down on the rack and then drawing away.

There are a few things a rack is good for. Traditionally it's used for stretching the limbs out, pulling them, causing a little discomfort whilst keeping the sub spread-eagled and helpless. That's not what I have in mind for now, though.

I can't stop shaking, and it's not because I'm cold. Gibbs' hands on me are practised, confident – he's sought my permission and now he's damn well gonna take what he's asked for.

At his direction, I kneel up on the rack's cool, smooth padding, my legs tucked under me. Somehow I know that he's not gonna stretch me – the restraints dangling down from the overhead support are just too tempting for that. So when he takes my right hand, his fingertips lingering on the underside of my wrist as if taking my pulse, I already know he's going to tighten the fabric cuff around it, securing my arm slightly above my head.

He follows suit with the other arm, ensuring that my upper arms are at around a ninety degree angle to my torso. Once he's satisfied, he eyes me appreciatively, and my body responds to his gaze, sending a light shiver through me.

"Are your toys in here?" he asks, indicating the cabinet in the corner of the room.

"Yes, sir," I answer softly, and he opens the doors, taking in the neatly arranged floggers, paddles, clamps, blindfolds, cuffs… My collection's pretty impressive, and I'm proud of it, but it hasn't made me this excited in years.

He picks out a heavy red leather flogger, a personal favourite of mine. Running its tassels through his fingers, he says, "Safeword."

"Magnesium," I whisper, and he nods, storing the word away.

I trail the flogger down her back, over her ass, along the back of her thighs. Abby's head drops, her pigtails hanging in her face, as she falls deeper into a submissive state.

When I flick my wrist, snapping the flogger's tassels down on her ass, she gasps, arching her back as she adjusts to the sensation. "How's that, little tease?" I ask, kissing her shoulder.

"Perfect, sir," she whispers, and I hear the smile in her voice.

Making sure to keep myself attuned to her reactions, I start a steady rhythm, striking different parts of her ass and thighs until the entire area is red tinged with purple bruises. Abby cries out as I vary the strength of the blows, her breathing shaky. Every moan she makes sends a jolt of arousal through me, but I ignore it, focusing on my task.

When I gauge she's had enough for now, I lay down the flogger and begin to smooth my hands over her skin, massaging the worst of the sting away. "Good girl," I murmur to her, and she sighs, leaning back against my hands.

I want her so badly that I can hardly stand it.

My ass tingling with the memory of the flogger's touch, I wait for Gibbs' next move. He walks into my line of sight, his eyes devouring me, and then he kisses me, drinking me in.

His fingers slip between my legs again, finding me burning, wet and desperate for him. I moan as he brushes my clit, pulling tightly against my restraints to keep myself from toppling over. "Oh, god, sir…"

He steps back immediately, and I open my eyes, wondering if I should have kept quiet. When I see that he's stripping off his shirt, my heart jumps.

He moves out of my line of vision, but then I feel him join me on the rack, behind me. "Legs apart, little tease," he instructs, and I do as he asks, placing one knee on either side of the rack.

Gibbs kneels behind me, the naked skin of his chest moulding against my back, his arms around my waist as he kisses the sensitive spot between my neck and my shoulder. I whimper as his erection presses against the small of my back, leaning back against him instinctively.

His hands travel upward, cupping my breasts, teasing my nipples until I whisper his name in frustration. Then his right hand slides down my body, stopping just short of my clit.

I bite back an irritated curse, but I know he feels my annoyance. With a low laugh that makes my spine tingle, he whispers, "Beg me."

The words come without effort. "Please, sir… I need you to touch me, I want you so much… You have no idea how this feels, how hot I am for you, how close to coming I am-"

With a growl of assent, he plunges two fingers inside me, his thumb beginning an irresistible rhythm against my clit, and I cry out, completely at his mercy. Within a minute, I'm begging him for permission to come, my body trembling with the suppressed need.

"Come for me," he says finally, and I do, my head falling back against his shoulder as I allow myself to fall apart, the orgasm so intense that I hang from my restraints, supported by Gibbs' arm around me, gasping for air.

"Good girl," he tells me as my senses return, and I feel his body pressed up tight against me, reminding me that he hasn't satisfied his own urges yet.

Watching Abby lose control is almost more than I can take, and I kiss her spiderweb tattoo softly before releasing my hold on her. Disoriented and deprived of contact, she makes a small noise of complaint, looking around for me. As quickly as I can, I shed the remainder of my clothing and get back up onto the rack, this time facing her.

Her eyes sweep over my naked body, and I react impulsively, moving up against her and grabbing her hips with such suddenness that her eyes widen and her breath catches. "Like what you see, little tease?"

Abby swallows and nods, unwilling – or more likely unable – to speak. I kiss down her body, teasing her nipples with my tongue, biting gently, and then not so gently. She leans into me, wordlessly encouraging the contact, and I can't wait any longer.

With an almost gentle touch, I position myself at her entrance, letting her know my intent. She trembles, her eyes falling closed, and I feel her hips instinctively jerk forward a little before she reins the impulse in. "Good girl," I murmur against her lips, holding her by the waist to steady her. "Now tell me what you want."

"You, sir…" The words are breathed rather than spoken, and I feel them against my flesh.

"Can't hear you," I torment her softly, pulling her body forward and pushing into her just a little way, enough so that the slightest movement will break our connection. It's all I can do to stop there, and Abby's forehead falls against mine as she battles with her own self-control.

"Sir, please…"

"What are you asking me for, little tease? I told you I couldn't hear you…" Gibbs' words are a barely-audible growl, and I can feel the tension in his body as he taunts me.

I want him so much that I can hardly think, let alone form words, but I manage to put together one shaky sentence, hoping and praying it'll be enough. "I need you to fuck me, sir…"

Maybe he wasn't expecting me to curse, because his fingers dig almost painfully into my waist as he drives into me, his arms the only things that stop me from being thrown off-balance. The feel of him filling me, completing me, fucking me is indescribably amazing, and I tug at my restraints as I shift position from kneeling to wrapping my legs around his waist. He supports me without letting up, and I let him take total control, whispering encouragement, expletives, then wordless noises as he takes me right up to the edge.

He doesn't wait for me to beg this time, breathing permission in my ear just as I'm ready. I moan unrestrainedly as I lose myself in waves of pleasure so concentrated that it's almost too much to bear, my fingernails digging into my palms, my vision and hearing completely obliterated for a brief, blissful moment.

By the time I can think again, Gibbs is done, too, his arms a little unsteady as he lowers me so that my feet touch the mat again. I try to reorient myself, trailing kisses down his chest, as he works at the cuffs around my wrists, releasing them and pulling me atop him into a horizontal position.

We lie there, exhausted, calming down. He kisses my head, strokes his hands down my aching arms, soothes me, reassures me. And I never want this to end.

Finally claiming what I've always thought of as mine is a sensation beyond measure. For a while, we drift, too worn out to move, enjoying the moment. Just before I'm ready to break the silence, she beats me to it.

"Permission to speak freely, sir?" The words finally make it past her lips.

The sentence triggers a memory – she's said this to me before. I reply with the same answer I gave her then. "You always speak freely, Abbs."

She lifts her head from my chest and smiles at me as she recalls the exchange, and softly says, "I know. I just always wanted to say that."

Suddenly, that conversation takes on a whole new meaning. Storing away the fact to ponder later, I ask, "What did you want to say?"

"Where do I start?" I wait past her rhetoric, and after a pause she continues, "How long…?"

She doesn't seem inclined to elaborate, so I ask her, "How long what? Have I been doing this stuff? Have I wanted you? Or have I wanted to make you mine?" At the last I tug gently on her collar, ensuring she gets the intended symbolism of the word.

Abby draws in an unsteady breath as I release her collar again, and whispers, "All of the above."

I think about it, half-distracted as she begins to run her fingers up and down my side. "First answer: a few years. Second answer: since you kicked me out of your lab and told me not to come back until you damn well called me down there…" Her giggle makes me smile, and I pause a second before continuing, remembering her exasperation, hardly a year into her employment at the Navy Yard. "Third answer… since quite a while before I first saw you at the club a month ago."

She's quiet, digesting the information, and the small smile hovering around the corners of her lips tells me that it's exactly what she wanted to hear. Tugging her into a brief kiss, I tell her, "Now you."

Abby settles down, thinking. "Since I was about twenty-one. Since I first made you smile… and that took a while! And…" She hesitates, then continues slowly, "since we had the case with the latex alien mask and we had that conversation about fetishes."

I remember it well, just like I've remembered it when I'm alone on countless nights. Hey, Gibbs… do you have any fetishes? I'd evaded the question, but ever since, in my fantasies I've chosen to tell her, to watch her eyes widen, her suggestive smile grow…

"Do you want to be my girl, little tease?" It's a formality, but a necessary one. And she tightens her arms around me as she replies, with casual conviction.

"I always have been, sir."