Olivia stripped her blouse and slacks off and threw them absentmindedly towards the closet. At this point, she didn't really care whether she kept the apartment in the neat condition Casey expected. After their volatile disagreement in Casey's office over the ADA's former fiancé and the upcoming fate of Saul Picard, Olivia was no longer concerned about any thing as petty as neatness. Instead, she limited her worries to Casey's mood. Back in the D.A.'s office, once they had both lapsed into silence, Casey had grasped her by the collar and hissed instructions into her ear. Olivia was familiar with this routine.

Picard's was not the first case on which Olivia and Casey had disagreed. On the contrary, they regularly clashed at work. Though their interactions on the job were often tense, however, Olivia and Casey still found themselves drawn together. They had been dating for nearly a year, ever since an overly enthusiastic celebration after a successful trial had ended in an unexpected kiss. Casey was the one who had leaned forward first though Olivia was hardly a spectator. The next few days were intensely awkward. The already stiff young redhead became even stiffer and Olivia began to have memories of the morning after her ill-fated night with Brian Cassidy. She slapped herself mentally for again making the same mistake. But, late on the following Friday, Casey had stopped by. She was clearly uneasy but, on the tall woman, the emotion was endearing. That flush and her tentatively issued invitation for dinner marked the real beginning of her and Olivia's relationship.

In the beginning, Casey was gentle with Olivia, even hesitant. As they became more familiar, however, their relationship intensified. At Olivia's encouragement, Casey took more and more initiative and control in the bedroom. She learned through practice, quickly developing a taste for domination, especially when she could exhibit her dominance over Olivia. After all, Olivia was tough and indomitable; Casey had ample opportunity to observe her girlfriend exert physical and emotional control over the psychos they dealt with everyday. Having such a woman submit to her, a young woman, excited Casey and she poured her frustrations and her budding love into their play.

Olivia welcomed Casey's confidence. When her girlfriend took the reins, Olivia could let herself go. Even in her own apartment, locked away from the joys and horrors she knew lay outside, Olivia could never find the release she experienced under Casey's hands. Casey understood exactly what Olivia dealt with, what she had seen. She didn't have to ask when Olivia couldn't speak to her and she gladly gave her lover the outlet she so desperately needed. It was perfect. That is, it was perfect until it wasn't.

It was only a few months into their serious relationship when Casey and Olivia suffered through their first real disagreement over the handling of a case. Casey had pushed for a young rapist to be tried as an adult while Olivia had begged her to send him to family court. She believed that this offender was a child, that he deserved a chance at rehabilitation before doing hard time at Rikers. Their argument escalated to near shouting. It was only finished when Casey took a breath, steadied herself, and stepped in close to Olivia. Ignoring the stares of the uniforms and detectives in the squad room, Casey pressed her lips to Olivia's ear and gave her the now familiar instructions. Over the course of their relationship, these instructions became a regular part of their lives both in and out of work.

After their fight about Saul Picard's assault of Elliot, however, Casey's voice lacked her customary warmth. Olivia was to go to Casey's apartment immediately after work. Casey ordered her to strip and kneel in the closet doorway with her head lowered and her back straight. She was to wait in that position until Casey returned and determined her punishment. Olivia instantly obeyed.

From the very first, Olivia had always obeyed Casey's instructions to the letter and she knew tonight would be no different despite her girlfriend's chilling tone. Even as her knees began to ache, Olivia stayed perfectly still. While she waited, the thought of disobedience crossed her mind. She knew that, if she was careful, she would hear Casey's key in the door and have ample time to return to her proper position. The thoughts were exceedingly short-lived. For some reason, Olivia always had the nagging sense that Casey would know if she hadn't followed her instructions perfectly. As a detective, Olivia knew that she could probably deceive her girlfriend. However, no matter how her muscles ached, Olivia refused to shift. She was better than that.

Olivia perked up when she heard the apartment door open and close. At the sound of Casey's clicking heels, Olivia whipped her eyes back down and focused on a spot on the floor. She wanted to call out to Casey and welcome her home, but Olivia knew better than to do that before she had been properly punished. She squared her shoulders and straightened her back and waited.

Casey kept her heels on as she walked into the bedroom. With a steely will, Olivia resisted the urge to look up at the tall, young woman. She only wanted a glimpse of Casey's face so that she could judge her girlfriend's mood. Instead she bit her lip and kept her face lowered.

Without warning, Casey bent and knotted her fingers in Olivia's short hair, yanking the brunette to her feet. Olivia yelped and stumbled, momentarily scrabbling for a grip on the doorframe. But, as she regained her balance, Olivia remembered the rules and dropped her hands back to her sides. She hoped Casey hadn't noticed. She let herself relax just a fraction as the redhead called no attention to her mistake. Her relaxation was quickly reversed, however, as Casey shoved her forward into the closet. Casey shoved again and again until Olivia stood with her nose pressed to a stack of her girlfriend's folded sweaters on the closet's built-in shelves. Olivia's heart fell. Casey only punished her here when she was truly upset.

Wordlessly, Casey yanked one of Olivia's arms up to the corner of the shelves and fastened it to a ringbolt with one of the leather cuffs they kept for such purposes. She repeated the action with Olivia's other wrist before stepping away. She kicked at Olivia's calves, forcing Olivia to spread her legs wide. Kneeling, Casey cuffed her ankles just as she had done Olivia's wrists. Hearing Casey move behind her, Olivia gingerly tested the security of her bonds and winced. Casey had buckled them too tight and already Olivia could feel her hands and feet begin to tingle. She parted her lips to say something, an action that Casey always permitted despite their rule of silence, but before she was able to speak, a gag was thrust into her mouth.

Olivia choked as Casey rammed it deep into her throat and buckled it into place. Biting down and recovering herself, Olivia began to snap the fingers of her right hand. This was their agreed upon safe word for when Olivia was unable to speak. Casey had never ignored Olivia when she was distressed. Casey's footsteps receded, walking away from Olivia and towards the closet door. Feeling the beginnings of panic prick at her senses, Olivia snapped her fingers furiously and forced urgent noises from her throat. She got no response but for the click as Casey turned out the lights and the seemingly deafening slam of the closet door. Olivia was alone.

Olivia sagged in her bonds, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath. She had lost all sense of time and in the darkness and her growing panic, she had fought against the cuffs holding her in place. Her efforts gained her no relief. Instead, she only exhausted herself. Gritting her teeth against the gag, Olivia forced herself to calm down. Casey would come back. Whenever Casey left during their play, she always returned. Olivia worked her numb hands and feet, opening and closing her fists and stretching her toes. Casey would be here soon and she'd be set free. And when she was released, Olivia knew that they would be having a serious talk about this. Olivia had used her safe word, used it more than once, and Casey had ignored her. That was unacceptable.

Though the sound was muffled, Olivia clearly heard the crash of the apartment door slamming. Breathing a sigh of relief, she craned her neck to look towards the closet door. She saw nothing but the thin band of light under the door, but it felt as if, by looking and hoping, she could will Casey to come and free her. Casey's shadow darkened the band of light and Olivia turned her head away and straightened her posture. If she wanted release, she knew she would have to behave. The door opened and the overhead light suddenly filled the closet with too bright light. Olivia squeezed her eyes shut and tried to be patient.

"You," Casey hissed. "You always fight with me in front of the detectives. My detectives! I'm sick of it." Her voice had lost its earlier coldness but had gained another quality that made Olivia's heart leap into her throat. Casey's words were slurred and sloppily enunciated. She was drunk. Immediately on the defensive, Olivia resumed her snapping, hoping to jar Casey back to the reality of their situation. But, instead of releasing Olivia, Casey grabbed her girlfriend's offending hand and squeezed. Olivia gasped in pain. Casey was a softball player, a good one, and she had the grip to prove it. She leaned close and spoke directly into Olivia's ear.

"You're always embarrassing me. When you tell me what to do, I look incompetent. I know I'm not your precious Alex, but she's dead. You've got me, Olivia. I'll teach you to live with it." Abruptly, Casey released Olivia's hand and stepped away as the brunette tried to straighten her crushed fingers. They moved slowly and the pain began to dissipate. Olivia was relieved but only for a moment.

The only warning Olivia had of the first blow was the barely audible rush of the weapon through the still air. Olivia yelped, her voice guttural, at pain exploded across the top of her thighs. It felt like she had been hit with a bat. She ground her forehead against the wooden shelf edge and tightened her fingers into fists. The blow was too forceful to be part of their play. Something was very wrong. As soon as she could focus sufficiently, Olivia snapped her fingers but managed to do so only once before Casey landed a second blow. Olivia arched her back and tucked her knees under her as much as she could, squirming desperately to escape the pain. When Casey struck her a third time, hitting her high on her hip, Olivia began to panic in earnest.

Casey hit her again and again, smashing the weapon against Olivia's back, shoulders, thighs and even her arms. At first, Olivia kept snapping and begging unintelligibly though the choking gag. With shame, she felt the warmth of her own drool wet her chest and drip further down her body but she didn't stop until she could no longer seem to force another sound out of her throat. Slowly, as the blows kept coming, Olivia lost strength. Instead of begging, her voice dissolved into rasps and then sobs. Her legs shook and, after a particularly painful blow to the back of her thigh, they gave out completely and Olivia collapsed, her body held upright only by the cuffs still firmly about her wrists. A glancing blow off of her shoulder connected solidly with the side of her head and Olivia saw black splotches. She fought to regain her footing and relieve the strain on her screaming wrists but her legs wouldn't support her. She choked weakly and gave up, letting her full weight hang from her arms. It was agony but it was easier. She let her head loll against her bicep.

Only the clatter of something wooden against the floor informed Olivia that it was over. In too much pain to even look over her shoulder, Olivia dimly prayed that she would be allowed to climb into bed and go to sleep. She wanted the comfort of the blankets and pillows more desperately then she ever had. Even her exhaustion after two straight days at the precinct couldn't compare. She just wanted to go to sleep and never wake up. She let her eyes fall closed and she waited.

No relief came. She didn't know how long it had been since Casey had left her alone but she was sure that it was sufficient for Casey to have released her. With a great effort, Olivia turned her head to search for her missing girlfriend. She saw only the closet door, now just slightly ajar. What little of the bedroom Olivia could see was pitch dark. Casey was nowhere in sight. A fresh but feeble sob escaped her throat. She twitched her hand. It was the only movement she could manage, the most she could do to fight against her bonds.

Casey woke and rubbed her tangled hair away from her eyes. Her head was pounding. She groaned and squeezed her eyes shut against the sunlight that seemed to send knives stabbing into her skull. Vaguely she remembered flashes of the night before and tried to recall exactly how much she had had to drink. She could only remember the first few. After that, her memories became a blur. Groping, she stumbled into the bathroom for a glass of water and a handful of aspirin. Maybe when this pounding headache gave way she would regain more details of her unusually wild night.

Emerging from the bathroom, she saw the pile of clothes on the carpet and rolled her eyes at herself. She bent gingerly to gather up her wrinkled jacket and skirt and found a pair of jeans hidden in the mess. She frowned again and strained her memory. These jeans had to be Olivia's; she was sure they were not her own. For a moment, she stood and thought before her eyes widened and her heart fell to the pit of her stomach. She had forgotten about Olivia.

Flooded with terrible panic, Casey threw the clothes to the floor and rushed to the closet. Yanking the door open, she was confronted with a scene that made the urge to vomit almost unbearable. Olivia was there, literally hanging from the cuffs binding her wrists. Casey flipped on the lights and took a step forward. Her rush to release her girlfriend was stopped short as she realized in horror what she had done. The bruises were horrible. They were dark and mottled, covering most of Olivia's body from her ankles to her wrists. She had left marks before, but never ones like these. These were serious and discolored even the areas where Casey was never to strike. They blossomed over her kidneys and her joints. Snapping herself violently from her sickening hesitation, Casey scrabbled at the leather cuffs binding her girlfriend, never ceasing until Olivia was limp in her arms.

From Casey's first touch, Olivia had seemed to come back to life. She moaned through her gag and tried to shy away from the redhead's contact though her motions were feeble. With every one of her movements and soft cries, Casey's heart broke with unbearable guilt. She could hardly believe that she had done such a thing but the flashes of bleary memory and the discarded softball bat told her otherwise. She wanted to throw herself away from Olivia and sob, but she could not. First, she had to get Olivia onto the bed and try to soothe her wounds.

Finally, Casey was able to settle Olivia amidst the tangled bedcovers. She unbuckled the gag from behind Olivia's head, noting with intense regret the tightness of the straps and the deep impressions they left over the brunette's cheeks. She eased the rubber from between Olivia's teeth and looked only briefly at the new teeth marks before throwing it away. She didn't want to face the evidence of the pain Olivia must have been in. Must be in, she corrected herself ruefully. This was her fault. She repeated her actions on the cuffs still wrapped tightly around Olivia's wrists and ankles. Again, she was overwhelmed with disgust. Her girlfriend's hands and feet were a disturbing shade of dark purple. The cuffs had been far too tight. The marks left on her wrists were most disturbing of all. Casey was sure she could make out impressions left by the very stitching in the leather. Olivia must have been hanging that way for hours.

Casey pulled the covers up to Olivia's shoulders. Shuddering, she noticed the trail of dried blood on Olivia's lips and chin. Her nose was hideously swollen and her bottom lip was deeply split. It was too much. Clapping her palm over her mouth, Casey stumbled desperately to the bathroom. She fell to her knees and vomited violently into the toilet. Tears began to come in earnest.