CSI
Ties that blind... by candygirl1uk [Reviews - 2]
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Greg watches the performance from the back of the private club. He looks around the club Sinful Pleasures…. Once upon a time, this places his home, his addiction. Addiction, Greg summarizes, born of two parents, both with their own compulsion. Greg bitterly thinks his own fixation inherited, from biological parents, as well as learned from his adopted family.

However this his lasting craze, his all consuming addiction of Science won over his lust for power … Won over his addiction to make pain and to receive pain….Who needs them right? Greg forces a little bile back into his mouth as a memory resurfaces from the depth of his soul…

Greg aged 10, lays on the floor watching early morning cartoons when a knock on the door disturbs him. His mother a quiet woman of church going means opens the squeaky front door.
“Yes, can I help you?” She meekly utters.
“Yes I hope so”
“Who are you?” Mrs Sanders enquires.
“You know who I am…”

Hearing the words stops the church going wife and mother in her tracks. The unexpected visitor stands on the doorstep, seeing the look of panic on the other woman’s face.
“W… What do you want?”
“You know what I want.”
“P… Please just go, you can’t see-”
“I can see who ever I please.”

A figure walks towards the doorway. Mrs Sanders watches as a red-faced man joins the demanding woman on her doorstep…
“Heather! Just leave it alone…”
“Don’t tell me what to do… I want to see-”
“No!” Mrs Sanders shouts aloud. She feels her face glowing with anger. “No more! This can’t happen again”.
Slamming the front door hard, Mrs Sanders walks back into the living room where her young son is standing at the doorway, with his hands on his hips.

“Who, who was that Mom?”
“Never you mind” Her voice now mellow, she scoots the child deeper into the room, shutting the door as she walks. Turning the television up louder, Mrs Sanders pats the space next to her…
“Come here Greg; let’s see what’s on shall we?”
“Yeah, cool Mom.” Greg replies, sitting next to his mother…



Greg returning to the present watches from the back of the darkened room two figures walk onto the stage, one figure bends down on their knees hands spread wide onto the stage floor, the other figure, the gender unknown, raises above their body a large whip….

Crack! Crack! The whip lands on the skin… The audience in woops, wails, in addition to some groans, as the whip again lands on the person’s skin….Addiction is a funny thing, Greg reminisces, as he feels drawn to the ‘couple on stage’. His face flashed with feelings of long ago, feelings of long ago comes banging stumbling to the surface of his thoughts. The mature CSI remembers a time when pain and pleasure was one in the same… Feelings once lost start to resurface, feelings of his lost love, his darkest days bounce back with abundance…


“Slave, here now!” His master commands him, obedience total, submission the only thing Greg could do. Greg presents to his master, the stance of total submission, he lies flat on his face, arms and legs stretched out in front of him…
“Good slave, I am much pleased…” The master gloats, laughing aloud as he walks away from the submissive servant.

His body clad in tight leather, the friction between his thighs, gratifying himself of a different kind.
“You slave, can now go home and be that good little boy for your Mommy." With that the male master, walks finally away from Greg, as he gets up…

Brushing dust from his near nakedness, Greg walks towards the bathroom, finding his clothes, he quickly dresses picking up his bag. Stuffing his feet into his Nikes, he makes his way out towards the hotel corridor, taking two steps at a time… Breathlessly he almost runs towards the hotel suite main entrance…


Greg from his position flinches in remembering the feel of the whip as it lands on the body, the tingling sensation of the smarting pain, followed by the smallest amount of blood. Greg leans back towards the wall, as another memory drags him kicking and screaming back into the past.




Greg stands tall, feeling lucky for being alive, the young male, not psychically a boy, but legally still so, yawns as he skimming from beginning to end of the exciting chapter of Serial Killers and their DNA one of his new science books. Crystallising form a gawky teenager, Greg is developing into a fine handsome intelligent male. A loud knock stirs Greg from his studies, getting off his bed he quickly answers the door. A freshman stands there, with a note in his hand.

“I was told to give this to you”
“What is it?”
“Don’t know man, but a tall lady in a black skirt gave it to me.”
“Ok thanks” Greg accepts the letter from the fresh faced freshman; he shuts the door, ripping open the envelope.

“Please come meet me at 3130 Sirius Ave, Las Vegas. I will explain everything to you. Meet me at dusk just opposite club hot rods. There will be a white SUV waiting for you there,” Greg reads aloud, shaking his head in disbelief.


Once more Greg settles down getting back into his studies he picks up the marker pen highlighting important key phrases.


A loud knock on his dorm door, brings Greg out from his books, dropping his pen on the bed, he jogs to the door.
“Hay Sanders wanna come and play basketball?” A young male his age slightly taller stands there bouncing a ball, Greg notices that his friend Stringer is dressed already in sports clothes.
“Hay Tom, thanks I’m going to say no, I’ve got something important to do.”
“Hmm, are you sure?” Stringer happily bounces the ball towards Greg, who catches the ball, bounces it a few times, the arches his elbows and gently throws it towards his friend, who seize it.
“Yeah thanks, but no thanks”
“See you around then, later dude!” Stringer walks away joining his other pals also clad in sports wear.


Getting ready to leave, Greg zips up his coat, with his student id in toe, waits for the Citizen Area Transit bus to arrive. The dip of the daytime temperature, making the nighttimes air chilly.
Two hours later Greg is waiting on the corner of Sirius Ave with a frosty in hand; impatiently he kicks a stone as he skims the traffic, cars going into the Golden Banana Club. Greg watches as drunken younger male hookers, climbs into trucks with men older than his own dad. A few cars stop, pulling up towards him, making him nervous. He looks up and down the road, cringing at his current foolish behaviour.

What am I doing here? Oh, shit here another one breathes slowly, count…. One, two, three- fuck do I look like a rent boy? Get the fuck away from me! This is the stupidest thing I have ever done. Ok five more minutes then I am out of here. Why is that man looking at me? God! He is coming my way…. What do I do? Fuuuuuuuucccccccccckkkkkkk!
Ah, panic over relax now! Ahh about time too, my balls are getting cold here.

Greg sees, a white SUV pulls up parking under a streetlight, the door swings open, and a cold Greg hops into the car.


“Thanks for meeting me.”
“Who are you?” Greg whispers.
“All in good time Greg, all in good time” The woman replies.
He sips the drink, waiting for the reply from the person sitting in the driver’s seat to acknowledge him. The woman, with long black hair, turns to face Greg, her bright red lipstick applied perfectly without flaws.

“Are you now ready to listen to my story?” The woman insists.
“S… Sure” Greg stutters, nerves abound.
“Just like your adoptive mother, she’s weak as well…” She scorns the young male sitting in her car.


“Fuck you, leave her alone. She is my mother. Do you know her? Who are you?” Greg demands.
“Such a temper, it could work for you. Come on now Greg, where‘s your kiss for your mother?”
“What do you want? Who are you? I have a mother…” Greg flinches when the woman calls herself mother.
“Please, let me explain”
“So explain. I know I‘m adopted but I have a mother, and a father.”


“Fine, I met your biological father when I was young, fifteen, the short story.”
“How, how do I know what your saying is the truth? Where is the evidence that you gave birth to me?”
“Do you need proof? Fine here’s your proof.”

The woman hands him a photo, the identical photo that is hanging on his parent’s living room wall…

“Basically I got pregnant, I had you… I could not keep you; your father left me alone. Simple”

“SIMPLE?” Greg snaps, “How is that SIMPLE? You gave birth to me.-”
“Greg, please let me explain-”
“Whatever!” The angry words leak out of him like poisonous venom.
“I have contacts, high contacts within local and national government; it really wasn’t that hard to keep tabs on you. So anyway, I know that you’re old enough to know the truth, so here I am.”
“Go on” The words drip from his lips, the anger falls away from him, and his heart beating over time.
“I’m sorry that I wasn’t there for you then, but I am now. I’ve set up two trust funds for you, one when you enter into employment, and the other one when you will become 32.”

“I don’t need your money.”
“Greg, don’t be silly, the money will come in handy. Very handy considering that you want to be a crime scene investigator”
“H- How? How did you know?” Greg stutters.
“Greg, like I told you I have connections… Listen you can get an internship at this address, its all set up for you.”
“But… But why now?”
“Greg, sometimes in life, a person can not correct wrongness, but can try to put the future right.”

Greg blinks, as he tries to take in all the information accurately. The woman hands him a piece of paper, Greg glimpses at the paper quickly reading an address, which he folds up placing the paper into his jeans.


He stares at this stranger, this woman… Both eyes full of bitterness, of lost connections stare towards each other. Greg began to feel sick to his stomach.

He closes his eyes, as he forces the blubbering bile downwards. Greg’s heart races missing a beat, hesitant of what direction to take, whispers something muffled to the woman. Opening the door, he heads into the pouring Nevada rain….
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