“Gibbs, I...uh...I did something. Something you're not going to like.” Abby gulps in air, “It's over now so I can tell you about it if you want...”

Her voice trails off when his hand stops moving. Gibbs doesn't have to to turn away from sanding the piece of wood in front of him to know that she's perched on the stairs fidgeting while she waits for a response, so he takes his time putting away his tools and washing his hands at the sink next to the stairs before he turns to look directly at her.

“What did you do?” His voice is so laconic that a casual listener would probably think her nervousness an overreaction, but Abby isn't fooled. She knows that he's at his most dangerous when he isn't yelling.

“I did a favor for the FBI without clearing it with you first.” When he raises an eyebrow in response she babbles, “Fornell suspected that he had a dirty agent and he needed someone from the outside to do the forensics so that they wouldn't be tipped off. I wanted to tell you but he didn't want any accidental leaks and it was just for a few days so I...”

“So you went along with it. That why you've been avoiding me for the last week or so?” He takes a small step toward her, his eyes sweeping from her damp neatly braided pigtails down to the hem of her pleated skirt before swinging back up to her face.

She licked her lips before saying hesitantly, “I know you said I wasn't supposed to do things like this, but it was an emergency and I...”

“You figured that rule 18 would apply.” Gibbs nodded, “And it does. To my agents. But you live by a different set of rules don't you?”

“Yes sir.” Her cheeks flushed, “But this was...”

He cocked his head, a curious half smile twisting his features “Are you trying to make excuses now?”

“No. I just wanted to explain it to you. I thought if I could make you understand then...”

“Then what? You broke the rules and you know the consequences for breaking them so what is there to discuss?”

“I...nothing sir.” She drops her gaze to her boot clad feet, “I'm ready for my punishment.”

“No you're not. Not yet.” He walks over to a cabinet under the stairs and rummages around in it as he says calmly, “Go upstairs, take off those shoes and wait for me in the corner.”

Abby doesn't waste her breath responding out loud, instead she nods once in acknowledgment and rushes to follow his instructions. He smirks to himself when the sound of steps change from stomping to a light patter as she runs to take her place. He finds what he's looking for in the cabinet and makes his way upstairs slowly, his steps deliberately heavy so that she can hear him while she waits. Her back is straight and she's swaying slightly when he enters the room so he says “Still not in the right frame of mind? Guess you need to recite those rules.”

“Yes sir. Rule #1 I will ask your permission for everything. Rule #2 I will do as I'm told when I'm told by you. Rule #3 Disobedience will be punished as you see fit and I will accept those punishments without complaint.” Her shoulders slump a little and her swaying stops as she says, “Rule #4 I will never forget that these rules are in place because you love me and want to keep me safe.”

He pulls his chair out from behind the desk and takes a seat in the middle of the room, “By my count you've broken every single one of them. Did you decide that you want to end this...arrangement?”

“No!” She whips her head around to look at him, “I love being yours, I don't want that to ever change.”

“Really? Now would be a good time to act like it.” He gestures with his index finger for her to face the corner again, waiting until her eyes are back where they belong before he says mildly, “It sounds to me like you need some better reminders so that you won't neglect your responsibilities again. I've been very busy lately, but we're not catching tonight or this weekend so you've got my full attention now.”

“Thank you sir.”

“I haven't done anything...yet. But you can thank me properly later.” He leans back in the chair and sighs, “Before all of this I was going to suggest we spend the weekend together. Just hanging out and maybe sitting through some of those movies you're always trying to get me to watch...but this is good too. Fun for me at least.”

She murmurs softly “Permission to speak sir?”

“No.” his voice deepens into a tone Abby's learned to fear as he says, “You can whimper, moan, cry, and beg. But no more talking tonight unless it's to answer a direct question or it's your safe word.” Minutes tick by as he sits and watches her try not to fidget. Finally he sits up, commanding her “Come here.”

Eyes downcast she walks over to stand next to Gibbs, waiting while he peers up into her face to read her sorrowful expression before rolling up his sleeves and signaling that she needs to drape herself across his lap. He flicks her skirt up with his left hand and surveys her sheer black boy-cut panties as he speaks, “So many broken rules. So little time.” He watches her muscles clench and release reflexively a few times, before he slams his callused right hand down on one soft cheek.

It's not his usual warm up blow, and Gibbs follows it with a flurry of even harder slaps while she holds onto the chair leg and tries to breathe through the onslaught. Abby finds herself gasping for air when he pauses, and she has a brief moment of being proud that she didn't scream before the paddle strikes. These blows are slightly slower, but no less ferocious and she can feel the tears rolling down her face while she tries to catch her breath. Pain has become heat, and she starts to think his goal is to start a fire as he slaps her with the polished wood again and again. She's bouncing now, trying her best to hold position and keep her mouth shut while he methodically turns her ass the color of a ripe tomato. Her tears turn to full on sobs and she can hear herself babbling, “I'm so sorry sir. Please...I'll be good. Please forgive me.”

He pauses, “For wearing panties to a punishment? Sure. You can take them off now and we can get started on your other indiscretions.”

It takes everything Abby has not scream at him, but she forces herself to get up and slide them down her trembling legs without saying a word. When she's draped herself across his lap again, he rubs his hand across her naked flesh soothingly, his fingers dipping lower and lower until she finds herself writhing in pleasure instead of pain. She can feel herself sliding headlong toward an orgasm moaning in frustration when his hand stops. There's what can only be called a snicker before he says quizzically, “Did you forget this was a punishment?”

She shakes her head, and steels herself for a slap when he trails his fingers gently over her thighs. “I find myself torn. I could make it impossible for you to wear one of these little skirts to work tomorrow but then I'd be depriving myself of my favorite view. On the other hand, there is a certain appeal to the idea of knowing that you won't be able to bear sitting down or even leaning against anything. Decisions, decisions...”

Abby can't help whimpering when he squeezes her soft hot flesh between his thick fingers and he says gleefully “Then again tomorrow is Friday, so I could have my view at work, and then bring you back here and finish the job.”

With that decision made he tightens his grip on her waist and slams his hand down again and again while Abby fights the urge to kick. One particularly hard swat sends her lurching forward and her hand flies back in self-defense. Gibbs' outburst of laughter is anything but comforting as he adjusts her position so that her wrists are pinned in his left hand at the small of her back and her head dangles closer to the floor. He doesn't strike her again, seemingly content to let her hang in his grasp and feel the burning pain he's brought to her body while she cries and babbles more apologies. When she quiets down he asks, “Do you need the cuffs?”

“We're not done?” Abby gulps in air when she realizes that she's disobeyed him. Again. Shame fills her face, and he watches bemusedly as she connects the dots. Resigned to her fate Abby murmurs “Whatever you see fit sir.”

He waits until she's taken a few deep breaths and centered herself before picking up the paddle again. This time he punctuates each swing with a word saying, “I. Told. You. Not. To. Ever. Keep. Anything. From. Me. Again. Regardless. Of. What. Fornell. Told. You. I. Know. Everything. That. You. Do. Because. That. Is. My. Job. So. I. Watched. You. Hide. And. Lie. All. Week. Long. And. I. Kept. Telling. Myself. That. You. Would. Honor. Our. Relationship. You. Did. Not. Now. You. Want. To. Play. The. Brat. Not. A. Chance.”

These swings are the hardest yet, and Abby can feel her ass going nuclear with the pain but that's not what has her crying this time. It's the disappointment in his voice and the sense that she's tainted something special for no good reason that pitches her into full blown hysterics. She's crying too hard to form words when he finishes and lets her slide to the floor at his feet. Gibbs strokes her hair while she clings to his knee, but she knows that he will offer her no words of comfort. Not right now. She's not forgiven yet, and that's her fault for screwing everything up so thoroughly.

Once the initial storm has passed Abby dries her eyes on her sleeve and kneels properly with her hands behind her back and eyes lowered, as she waits for his next move. He gets up and walks out of the room without a word and so she holds her position and tries to resist the urge to rub the swollen flesh of her posterior. Eventually she hears the clinking of ice and feels him moving around behind her. He cuffs her wrists together before he sits back down in his chair, but he doesn't speak to her right away. It takes everything Abby has not to move, but she can feel his eyes burning into her so she focuses on maintaining the posture she knows he expects from her.

“I'd almost forgotten how much I enjoy watching you when you know your place.” He flexes his hands, smirking a little when she shudders at the sound of his knuckles cracking “I'm not sure your ass can take much more tonight. But I'm going to find out. Get up.”

It takes her a second or two longer than usual with her hands bound and her butt feeling so sore, but she manages to stand up unassisted. He doesn't move, just points to the corner, waiting until she's got her nose where it belongs before sauntering up behind her and removing her skirt. “I should take a picture of you like this and frame it. I could hang it downstairs...or maybe I could have you turn it into a screen saver for everyone to enjoy.”

Abby twitches a little at the mental image of being displayed that way in the bullpen, but she knows he wouldn't do it so she stays quiet and waits. She hears the quiet clinking of his belt buckle as he opens it, notes the sound of soft leather sliding through belt loops, and she can almost see him doubling it out of the corner of her eye. And still, when the leather slaps across her cheeks she can't keep herself from crying out. Dimly she recognizes that he's not swinging very hard or fast, but the impact is painful nonetheless and each slap leaves her breathless. It stings more than his hand or the paddle did and she's pretty sure she's going to have to use her safe word when he stops abruptly and says “Turn around.”

She turns toward him with her head down, and he tilts her chin up so that he can look into her eyes as he speaks, “I think we could both use a break. Go over to the desk and have a drink.”

With her hands cuffed she can't pick up the cup so she has to bend over the desk in order to sip from the curly straw he's stuck in the glass of juice and she's certain he planned it that way when he walks up and presses himself against her. Gibbs waits until she's finished asking “Do you need to use the head?” before stepping away and letting her turn around.

Abby's lip twitch into a small smile and she nods gratefully as he separates the cuffs. He doesn't remove them saying quietly, “Lose the blouse while you're in there and meet me in the living room when you're done.”

She hurries into the bathroom, but once she's in there it takes time for her to negotiate actually using the facilities and getting undressed. She takes an extra minute to stand on tiptoe and try to check out her backside in the mirror only to hear Gibbs growl from the doorway“I don't have to be done decorating it yet, so I suggest you get a move on.”

Scurrying like a frightened mouse to the living room isn't exactly Abby's idea of a sexy retreat, but she figures at this stage of the game it's better than finding out what else he can think of for punishment. In the living room she sees her pillow on the floor next to couch and she sinks onto it as gracefully as she can. She hears the clink of dishes and feels Gibbs moving around behind her. After setting a tray down on the coffee table he cuffs her wrists together again and sits down on the couch. She doesn't need to see his face to know that he's not as angry as he was earlier. Not when he's stroking her face so gently and letting his thumb brush across her lips every few seconds. He smiles at her slightly before picking up the fork and offering a bite of food. As she opens her mouth to take it he lets out a soft sound of approval, and she can't help the flush of pride that runs through her at the knowledge that she's finally gotten something right.

He feeds her slowly, watching her mouth moving intently in between taking bites of his own food, but he stays silent and the increasing tension has Abby licking her lips nervously by the time his meal is finished. When he starts feeding her bits of fruit with his fingers, some of the juice leaks down his thumb and she licks it off, sucking lightly at the skin before he pulls away. He makes a sound that might be a moan, but otherwise doesn't break the silence and she repeats the process with the next morsel just to hear something besides her own heartbeat. Finally the last of the food is gone and he wipes her mouth and his fingers with a damp napkin before lifting her into his lap.

When her ass comes into contact with the rough fabric of his jeans she whimpers and tries to subtly raise her bottom, but Gibbs' hold on her is firm and it is all she can do to avoid putting her full weight on the tenderized area. He tugs on the ring in her collar in warning, and Abby relaxes her muscles and lets him arrange her limbs to his satisfaction. In the end he positions her so that she is curled in his lap with her head resting on his shoulder and most of her weight is on her right hip instead of her buttocks. He even moves her hands around so that they're bound in front and she can put her arms around his neck. It's a familiar position and she settles into it with a sigh of contentment.

He switches on the TV that she bought him and turns the channel to some show about boats. It's not particularly interesting to Abby, but he's cradling her close enough for her to start feeling sleepy and when she yawns against his ear he says mildly, “Poor little minx. Are you bored?” Abby looks up at him warily and when he smiles at her encouragingly she nods, still unsure if she's allowed to speak. He doesn't seem to mind the silent gesture; lifting her arms from his neck he places her back on the cushion as he says “I believe you owe me a thank you for earlier. Might as well keep yourself occupied right?”

She smiles at him warmly and reaches out to undo the button on his jeans only to have him catch her wrists and clip the cuffs to her collar. He unzips and releases himself and uses her pigtails to tug her face into his lap. It's a curious feeling to have no control of depth or speed, and there are several moments as she licks and sucks where Abby wants to move a different way but the message is clear every time he tugs her forward or pulls her back. Gibbs is fucking her face at his own pace and for his own pleasure and she will do as she's told when she's told or not at all. It always takes him a long time to climax, but the length of this interaction strains the muscles of her jaw and leaves her tongue tired and it's with great relief that she swallows his seed when he finally spills it. He lets her up with a murmur of “Good girl.” after she licks him clean. Watching him put himself back together she feels a sudden frisson of unease at the cheerful smile his face. The feeling intensifies when he pulls out a muzzle gag and holds it to her lips.

Abby takes a deep breath and opens her mouth to accept it, holding herself rigid while he buckles it into place. He attaches a leash to her collar and helps her to feet. It's slow going for a second as she has to really fight down the urge to pull away, but Gibbs is implacable and she follows him through the house and upstairs to the guest bedroom. He helps her lay back on the wide padded bench in the center of the room, and takes a few minutes to cuff her ankles and thighs so that her legs are splayed open as wide as they'll go without strain and her weight is on her back. He opens the clip securing her wrists to her collar and stretches her arms above her head, locking them to the ring at the head of the bench.

He taps the front of the gag, “You can say whatever you like now, but you do not have permission to orgasm. Are we clear?”

Her eyes sweep shut as she nods, and he chuckles dryly saying “Keep your eyes open. It's an extra five minutes every time you close them.”

Abby's eyes fly open just in time to catch sight of her reflection as Gibbs removes the curtain covering the mirror. “You can look at me or you can look in the mirror. Nowhere else.”

He settles over her with a grin, kissing his way down her body until he dips his head to take one slow lick along the twitching muscles of her belly. Before covering her inner thighs with light kisses he slides his hands greedily over the length of her legs. Sucking lightly on the skin surrounding her tattoos, nibbling gently at the soft flesh and stroking her lightly with his fingers when she tries to buck against the heat of his mouth are all just steps along the way to his ultimate goal. When his tongue flicks against her clit the first time all Abby can do is moan. By the twentieth time she's begging for permission but all Gibbs can hear is the muffled sounds that are unintelligible even to her ears. She gets close enough to almost fly over the edge and he backs off and resumes paying attention to the rest of her body.

Her stomach, knees, and ankles are all his primary focus until he feels her pulse slow. Abby has high hopes when he first returns his attention to her sex, but by the fifth time he's brought her to the edge and pulled her back she understands that this is another lesson. She curses him, garbled noises that make him laugh against her flesh but eventually Abby accepts that all she can do is hope for mercy. Gibbs has none, and when he's tired enough to yawn he sits up and releases her bonds. The gag is the last thing to go, and he tosses it aside casually before pulling her to her feet and out of the room. She's shaking and he rubs her arms briskly as he guides her into the bathroom. They shower together; Abby's knees knocking together when he slicks soapy hands over her body, teasing her nipples to stiff peaks before pulling away again to tend to his own hygiene. He steps out first, wrapping a towel casually around his waist before pulling her close and using her another towel to pat her dry.

Glassy eyed with need, all she can do is stand there and moan while he takes care of her. He smooths her shea butter lotion in gently, his hands lingering the longest on her ass and she starts rubbing her thighs together unconsciously. The motion prompts Gibbs to say firmly “If I catch you touching yourself you'll spend tomorrow night the same way you spent tonight.”

It's an effective enough threat to jolt her back into the moment and she ducks her head in submission as he leads her to bed. He drifts off right away, and she tries to follow suit since laying curled up with her back against his chest is usually her favorite way to sleep. Tonight though...tonight she can't find a way to get comfortable. She's too sore to lay on her back, laying on her side means her thighs being close enough to rub together which isn't exactly conducive to being obedient, and she's never been one for sleeping on her stomach. Gibbs will know if she gets out of bed though so tries to wrap herself around a pillow and catnap until morning. Exhaustion finally takes her under, but it's not long enough for her to feel rested when the alarm sounds and she has to ease her aching body back out of bed.

“Morning sunshine.” He's obnoxiously cheerful, almost bouncing out of bed to get dressed. She glares at him as she rummages through her drawers for clothes. He glances over at the loose soft pants she's chosen and shakes his head announcing “I want to see those beautiful legs today.”

Abby bites back the retort that rises to her lips and focuses on selecting a skirt that won't inadvertently irritate her when she walks. In the end she settles on another pleated skirt, thigh high stockings, and a cute shirt. By the time she's dressed and clear eyed enough to navigate the stairs she can smell coffee and almost hear Gibbs tapping his foot impatiently. She walks into the kitchen just as he turns toward the door. His eyes sweep across her body quickly, and he gives her a brusque nod of approval. She heads for the toaster to make herself some breakfast and he catches her arm before she can slide past him.

“Table.” His eyes are flat, giving her no clue about whether this is going to hurt or feel good, but she can hear the rules in her head so she obeys and lays her torso across the butcher block. Her nose is only a few inches from his coffee mug and keys and she thinks absently that she's on par with them in making his day go smoothly. Gibbs flips up her skirt, lightly trailing his fingers over the reddened skin and she starts to relax when she realizes that he has no intention of spanking her again. He lifts the string of her thong, his finger sinking into her easily while she tries not to hope for release. He adds a second blunt finger and she can hear herself moaning, but she doesn't break the silence with words.

He fucks her steadily, adding a third finger and twisting his hand in a motion that brings his thumb into contact with her clit every few seconds. She gasps out “Please sir. Please!” and he stops abruptly leaving her trembling, hands scrabbling for purchase on the tabletop.

He steps away, and she can hear the water in the sink running a second later. She starts to rise from the table only to hear a gruff “Did I tell you to move?” Abby lays back down to wait for permission and just as her heart rate slows she feels something blunt and cool pressed against the ring of her anus. She lets out a soft sigh as he increases the pressure, the small head of the plug slipping easily past the ring of her sphincter as Gibbs twists the lubricated toy into her. She feels her anus expand to take the much wider body, and then contract over the narrow neck to hold it in place. He flips her skirt back down, and says “Now you can move.”

Standing up isn't so bad, but when she tries to walk the rubbing sensation is enough to make her eyes cross. Abby shoots a questioning look at him and he says calmly, “You have permission to speak.”

She wants to ask him how she's supposed to concentrate at work, but she knows that he won't give her any leeway on that front so instead she asks “How long do I have to keep it in?”

“Until I tell you to take it out.” He gestures at the clock, “Hurry up and make your breakfast. We need to get moving.”

She manages to choke down toast and juice before they walk out to the car. The ride over is quiet, he plays some talk radio show in the car while she stares out the window and tries not to react when he goes over potholes. As they pull into the Navy Yard he says “You probably won't see me until lunch time, but I'm sure you'll see everyone else a few times. I won't be happy if McGee comes to my desk and nags me to talk to you.”

“Yes sir.” Her voice is lower than normal, and he cocks an eye at her until she adds “I'll tell them about having to lie to you because of the FBI case if they ask me what's wrong. It's close enough to the truth and they'll figure I'm just down because you're mad at me.”

He parks the car and walks around to let her out. They walk in together, parting ways at the elevator and Abby goes downstairs to bury herself in work. It's a quiet day in the lab, and so she resorts to processing evidence from cold cases when no one visits her for longer than a few minutes. There are a few questions about her subdued demeanor as they rush around to wrap up any loose ends before the long weekend ahead, but no one seems surprised that she's down when they hear the story. Tony's only comment is “Yeah, it sucks. But he'll get it over it Abbs. You're his favorite and he can never stay mad at you.”

McGee is just leaving when Gibbs shows up at lunch time with a sandwich and a Caf-Pow! He shoots her a thumbs up behind Gibbs' back and she smiles broadly when he mouths “Tony was right.” before heading for the elevator.

Abby kneels on a pillow in her office to eat while Gibbs sits at her desk. It's a risk, inasmuch as someone could walk in but sitting in a chair is beyond her capabilities and Gibbs merely smiles at the sight. She contemplates asking him to remove the plug, but she doesn't need the bathroom and she has a feeling that he'll insist on a reason to remove it.

When they're done eating he says, “They're predicting a pretty bad snow storm so we're going to close up in a couple of hours. I'll come get you when I'm ready to go home.” He leans back in her chair watching her get to her feet and clear away the debris from lunch. When she's finished he points at the ballistics lab, and she walks into the room and heads directly for the far corner assuming he wants whatever happens next to occur in a space where there's no chance they could be interrupted. He presses her against the wall, grinding her backside into the rough concrete as he kisses her. When he steps away they're both breathless and her eyes plead for him to stop the game but she knows better than to say so.

“Turn around and grab your ankles.” She flushes bright red at his tone but does as he says. It takes everything in her not to flinch when he raises her skirt and taps the plug. Gibbs twists it until it slides out of her bottom, and she can hear the wet squelch of more lubricant being squeezed out before he re-seats in her body. Abby feels him step away a second before she hears “All done. You can stand up.”

His eyes are calm when she stands up and turns to meets his gaze, but there's a muscle twitching in his jaw that makes her legs feel weak and so she kneels for him again. He smiles laconically and says “Get back to work.” before turning and walking away.

There's not much left of the work she started that morning, and two hours isn't enough time to set anything else up so Abby is forced to spend the rest of the time with her thoughts when she runs out of paperwork to finish. She wants to be mad at him, but she's honest enough to admit to herself that she could use her safe word and they both know it. He's well within the parameters of her limits physically even if the emotional aspect is hard for her to accept.

Abby's mind wanders back to the first time he casually threatened to spank her. It had spurred her to focus on her work and later to start deliberately provoking him until one night while they were in his basement his hand had flown out to pop her just hard enough to tell her that she'd gone too far. The look of shock on his face faded when he caught sight of her smug little grin and he'd warned her about playing with fire. She'd said something flip in response almost daring him to do it again and soon enough her occasional trips to his house to tease him were nightly excursions focused on getting her way. He'd warned her then that he wasn't always going to be so indulgent and now that she's on the receiving end of a first real punishment she can see why he tried so hard to keep her at arm's length.

This part isn't any fun, but she's well aware that being with him isn't always going to be a barrel of laughs. So by the time Gibbs shows up again she's come to a curious peace with the situation and there's a lightness to her step as they leave. She even manages to give him a real smile for the first time in hours and he brushes a kiss across her forehead in return before taking her home. Snow is starting to fall and the driving is a little slippery but not impossible yet, though it's clear that things are going to get worse soon enough. He drops her off at the house with the words “You might as well take a nap. I'm going to get some groceries just in case they're right about it shutting down the city.”

Abby takes off her shoes as soon as she's inside, so tired she's crawling into bed with only a flicker of temptation to touch herself before sleep pulls her down into the darkness. When Gibbs comes in a couple of hours later he finds her there splayed across the bed clutching his pillow to her chest. He shucks his damp clothes quickly, and quietly pulls on dry ones before he leaves her to sleep.

She wakes up refreshed but mildly uncomfortable, so she heads down to the basement to ask about the plug. Before Abby can open her mouth he says, “Take it out, do what you need to, and have a bath.” A long soak sounds like heaven, so she follows his instructions to the letter. She turns on her music and settles in for so long that her fingers are wrinkled by the time she smells food. Gibbs is waiting in the living room when she comes downstairs wrapped in her robe. He shakes his head at her and she slides out of it, leaving it hanging on the post at the bottom of the stairwell. He has her collar and cuffs in his hands and she hurries over to kneel at his feet. It's nothing new for them, but the last 24 hours have left her feeling smaller than usual and she leans her head against his leg for a moment after he buckles her wrists together.

Gibbs' fingers trace the outline of her cross gently before he steps away and takes a seat. Dinner is one of his rare home cooked meals, tender chicken and pasta with a creamy sauce he refuses to teach her how to make. She makes small sounds of pleasure with each bite, and he chuckles when she chases the fork for the last morsel. He gives her juice to drink and lifts her onto the couch again, this time laying her head in his lap and putting on one of her favorite movies. He leaves the cuffs on her wrists, but he doesn't attach them to each other and she rests her head on one arm and curls the other around so that it's almost hugging his knee.

They sit that way for several minutes until Abby twists her head to press a kiss against his thigh during a commercial break. It's close enough to his zipper that she isn't surprised when he comments in a low rumble “Keep that up and you'll miss the end of your show.”

“I can watch it later.” She winks at him, “But that's up to you sir.”

“It is up to me.” He looks at her intently, “Do you remember that now?”

“Yes sir.” Abby opens her mouth, and closes it with a rueful smile before the urge to babble excuses and explanations gets her back into trouble.

He eyes her knowingly and strokes a hand down to her rest on her hip, “It's been a while since you acted out, and I think maybe you'd forgotten what happens when you push me too far. Don't make me remind you again any time soon.”

“Yes sir. I am sorry sir.” She shivers a little when he palms her ass, and says softly “I do try to be good.”

He laughed, “No, you try not to be bad enough to get punished. I do know the difference, and mostly I don't mind it. But I will not tolerate lying or outright disobedience. Understand?”

“Yes sir.” She hitches in a breath as he slides his hand around to cup her sex, hips bucking when he parts the lips to stroke her clitoris. She's been on edge for so long and it feels so good that all she can do is cling to his arm and babble “Right there. Oh yes, please sir. Please! May I? Oh God!”

He doesn't respond, but he keeps stroking until she can't hold back and the orgasm washes over her and she cries out wordlessly. Abby drifts happily for several minutes, panting to catch her breath before opening her eyes and giving him a wide smile. He grins back, and says sweetly “I didn't give you permission to do that you know.” When her face falls he adds, “I guess I'll have to spend the weekend teaching you a lesson.”

There's a playful look in his eyes that warms Abby's heart even though his voice is gruff. She kisses his arm and says demurely “I suppose you'll have to be very harsh with me sir. I have been a very naughty girl.”

“True.” He leans down to kiss her head, murmuring against her hair, “Get up, and go to my office.”

Abby scrambled to her feet, pausing to stick her tongue out at him before sauntering away slowly, deliberately rolling her hips as she went down the hallway. Her gaze falls on the corner, but the memory of the night before and the twinkle in his eye gives her another idea. Hearing his footsteps approach she positions herself across the desk. Standing on tiptoe to make up for the lack of heels she can hear his sharp inhalation as he comes through the door. She turns her head slightly to peer at Gibbs, and sees him framed in the doorway fingers gripping the wood and his blue eyes smoldering. She wiggles her hips and says seductively, “I'm ready for my punishment sir.”

His stride is slow, and there's a heaviness to his gestures when he rolls up his sleeves. He strokes a hand across her ass smiling when she whimpers and says, “I think you might miss sitting down eventually minx.”

“We do have all weekend sir.” She pouts a little at the idea of skipping this part of the fun, “Besides you didn't touch my thighs once.”

He shakes his head, a bemused look on his face as he says roughly, “You're going to be the death of me little girl. But what a way to go.” His hand rises and falls, reawakening the heat from the night before in a much more pleasant way. The slaps to her bottom are gentler than the ones on the top of her thighs, but soon enough she's red and warm to the touch all over. She's flying now, the smacks feeling more like caresses than blows and he strokes her hips while she moans her appreciation.

Abby's movements remind him of the way she dances when she thinks no one is looking, and he has to take several deep breaths before he can trust himself to do more than skim his fingers along her curves. He unbuckles his belt one handed, shucking off his pants quickly and letting out a sigh of relief when he's free of the tight denim confines. He had a vague notion of drawing things out before he saw her displayed on his desk, but now it's a struggle to remember why he'd want to do anything but fuck her. As soon as he comes into contact with her lush wet heat, he lunges forward inadvertently driving her hips into the desk as he enters her. It's rougher than he'd planned, but she doesn't seem to mind. She's making a high keening noise before long, and bucking back to meet each thrust and all Gibbs can do is hang on and enjoy the ride. He manages to tell her “Come for me minx and don't stop.” before the world narrows to the feeling of her flesh sliding so sweetly over his, and he hears her screaming his name before everything goes blank.

They land on the floor together when their legs give out; Abby giggling like a maniac while Gibbs tries to remember how to breathe. She slaps at his chest lightly, when he tugs on her collar and says “Who's trying to kill who here?”

“I'm trying to get you to stand up so we can go lay in bed. This floor is hard.”

“That's what you get for not buying a better carpet.” After a few false starts she gets up, and holds out her hand to help him. Gibbs growls in response and she bats her eyes coquettishly until he manages to stand up too.

He's too tired to chase her upstairs, but once they're cleaned up and in bed he says, “Remind me to teach you the error of your ways again tomorrow.”

“I'll make it my first priority.” She replies with a cheeky grin, before curling up with her back against his chest and letting the sound of the storm raging outside lull her to sleep.