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Vaster Than Empires	By : bitterapple Category: CSI > General Views: 3479 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own CSI, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Author:
bitterapple

Archived: ask permission before archiving

Rating: NC-17 OK, a little plot, but not that much

Pairings: M/F, M/alien, F/alien

Characters: Grissom & Sara

Beta: She knows who she is, and how much I love her

Author Notes: Hokay people, this is weirdness in the extreme, and not
exact science either. To be brief, this is far in the future;
Grissom and Sara are scientists living on an asteroid used to study
life-forms from planets that are under exploration. He is a
xenoentomologist and she is an astrophysicist. No crimes
involved.

Disclaimer: I don't own 'em. I don't profit from
'em. Don't sue me.

CHAPTER TWO: THE ROOT OF PLEASURE

Grissom
didn’t bring up the subject of the Venus plant for two days, and
Sara was beginning to hope that the new insect samples fresh in from
A44 were distracting him, but after they finished dinner on the
second day he went into the bedroom and emerged in a robe.
“I’m
going to do it,” he announced matter-of-factly.
Sara
sat up straight. “Gris, you can’t be serious. You
don’t have
permission.”

“I
do,” he countered, putting his shoes back on and heading out the
door. Alarmed, Sara followed.

“You
don’t have privacy,” she pointed out. “Do you really
want
to--”

“Alvarez
gave me temporary override of the A44 biodome,” Grissom
interrupted, naming the head of the Botany section. “He told me
to
do whatever I wanted short of destroying the plant; document
everything; and, I quote, ‘Never ever tell me about
it’.”
Sara
had to huff a laugh, Grissom had the man’s intonation down pat,
but
it didn’t last. “Gil, it could be dangerous!”
At
that he stopped, and reached for her hand. “Sara, sweetheart, I
understand your concern. And I appreciate it. But no one on A44 has
come to any harm from their encounters with the Venus plant.”

“No
immediate harm,” Sara countered darkly. “Who knows
what
the long-term effects could be?”

“From
a psychotropic encounter? Probably minimal at best. You know I’m
almost psi-null.” Grissom started walking again, keeping hold of
her hand. “And as regards the physical, the explorer teams have
the most extensive scans available, Sara. Everyone who had an
encounter was examined thoroughly. They apparently came to less harm
than someone having actual sex.”
They
were coming up on the airlock to the A44 dome, and Sara halted this
time, pulling him to a stop. “Yeah, and that’s another
thing. Your ass is mine, Gil, I chased it across half the damn
galaxy. Who says you can go and have a...one-night stand, or, or
whatever, with a plant?”

Grissom
chuckled. “It’s not even close to self-aware, that’s
been
confirmed. Think of it as assisted masturbation.”
He
sobered, and squeezed her fingers. “You could always...join me,
you know.”

Shocked,
Sara stared at him. “You mean, let myself be fucked by a nympho
alien plant in the name of science?”

Grissom’s
lips twitched. “The reports as a whole leave room for only one
conclusion--the plant’s trigger for fruition is emotional
emanations. It’s no doubt enhanced by intelligence; and to have a
partner participate...why else do the locals choose three individuals
instead of one, when one is sufficient?”
Damn,
I hate when he’s being logical. Sara glared at him, unable to
come up with a counter argument. Grissom waited, watching her, and
Sara knew that if she insisted he abort his experiment, he would.
Reluctantly, but he would do as she asked.
...I
don’t have a good enough reason. She let out her breath, and
released his hand. “Oh, go on. I’ll keep an eye on things,
at
least.”
One
corner of his mouth curved up, and Grissom leaned over and kissed her
before walking through the lock. Sara, grumbling under her breath,
followed, and Grissom keyed the lock shut behind them before opaquing
the dome.

“I’m
going to expand the forceshield a little, give it room to
manoeuvre,”
Grissom said, suiting actions to words, and Sara watched the
glittering hemisphere move a few metres further out from the Venus
plant. Since no one came into the biodomes without authorization,
there was no need to restrain the thing; the shield merely served to
keep in its pheromones.
They
walked down the paths built into the biodome, passing other plant and
tree samples as they went. The reproduced A44 atmosphere was a
little richer in oxygen than Earth, and smelled to Sara faintly like
rotten grapes, but it was quite tolerable, even vaguely pleasant; it
was also damp, and about ten degrees warmer than the asteroid’s
living quarters.

“You
sure about this, Gil?” Sara asked as they reached the
forceshield’s
perimeter.
He
smiled at her. “It’s the only way to prove my hypothesis;
Alvarez won’t touch the idea with a ten-foot probe, and none of
his
people will either. I’ve set the dome’s sensors for
psychotropic
readings.”

“What
do I do if it goes crazy?” she asked, feeling a little helpless.

“It
won’t. Remember, honey, it’s in the plant’s best
interest to
keep me healthy.” He squeezed her arm, then turned and stepped
through the shield.
Sara
swallowed, watching. Grissom stood just inside the perimeter for a
moment, and she could hear him drawing a deep breath and letting it
out. The plant’s tendrils twitched, and began to stir.

Grissom
untied the belt of his robe, then stripped it off and draped it
neatly over one of the sprinkler stanchions. He was naked beneath,
the powerful musculature and slightly rounded belly now exposed to
Sara’s senses and those of the Venus plant.
The
tendrils were slowly stretching now, with an oddly tentative motion.
They started to move in Grissom’s direction, and he stepped out
of
his shoes and forward to meet them.
Sara
held her breath, expecting them to snatch him up at once, but instead
they...hovered. One snaked slowly to his arm, gradually lying flat
on the inside of his wrist, while another wavered in front of him
until it paused in front of his mouth. Testing his breath, Sara
realised.
The
plant was apparently adapting its pheromones rapidly; Grissom was
standing in profile to Sara, and she could see his penis starting to
thicken and rise. He blinked, his face flushing a little, but he
made no move as the plant continued to examine him.
Then
several tendrils landed lightly on his body, running down his arms
and torso; Sara saw him shiver, and his erection grew, standing out
from his groin at a proud angle.
What
if the damn thing decides to pick him up by the throat? Sara
thought in sudden panic, but before she could say anything, the
tendrils were wrapping around Grissom’s arms and legs, and then
his
waist. Much more slowly than Sara anticipated, they lifted him off
his feet and up.

Grissom’s
eyes widened, but he gave her a reassuring nod. “I’m
okay,” he
said softly. “Nothing’s too tight.” Then he inhaled
sharply,
as more tendrils began exploring his body...stroking him.
His
cock was fully erect now, a red darker than the Venus plant; as Sara
watched, one tendril ran lightly up and down it, making Grissom gasp
again. Then, to her astonishment, the tendril rippled, thickened,
and...blossomed.
It
wasn’t really a flower, as Sara understood flowers, but it was
something with petals and a throat--and nectar, she thought, as she
saw the glistening.
And
it fitted exactly over Grissom’s cock, sliding slowly down until
he
was enveloped in it, and even from that distance Sara could tell the
fit was snug. He groaned, a harsh sound, and she took a step
forward, but he shook his head. “Oh damn, it feels good,”
he
managed.
A
surge of utterly irrational jealousy ran through her. He was hers,
and nothing else had the right to pleasure him, sentient or not. Sara
bit her lip, trying to master the feeling.
The
blossom pulsed slightly, setting up a slow rhythm, and Grissom
groaned again. Sara saw yet another tendril, this one slender, snake
up between his legs and wrap gently around his balls. His hips
jerked forward as it tightened, and he let out a strangled sound.
That
did it. Sara stepped through the shield, not sure what she was going
to do, but the instant she drew breath an incredible need swept into
her. Damn, the pheromones!

Briefly
she considered going back for a filter mask, but she didn’t want
to
leave Grissom that long. In fact, she realised, she wanted to get
closer to him--as close as possible. She wanted to rip away that
blossom and satisfy both of them with her own body.
I
can’t even reach him from here--and even if I could, what would
the
plant do to him if I hurt it?

Every
centimetre of her skin felt burningly alive, and ached to be touched.
Her nipples were stiff, rubbing against her shirt, and she could
feel moisture oozing out of her. Choose, commanded the cool
rational portion of her mind. Either back out of here right now,
or give in, but if you don’t choose now there will be no choosing
at all.
She
looked up at her lover, suspended in the plant’s grip and
writhing
slowly as the blossom suckled him. If I can’t touch him
physically, I can at least try the psychic thing.
It
had little to do with logic, but everything to do with love and
loyalty--and, Sara admitted as she pulled off her shirt, lust,
artificially induced or not. The plant’s tendrils were already
questing towards her; she stepped out of her pants and shoes.

“Come
and get me, you bastard,” she growled.
The
tendrils hovered over her, then descended with only a little less
hesitation. They were softer than she had imagined, and almost warm,
and they took less time examining her than they had Grissom. She
expected to shy away from the first tentative touch, but instead the
smooth brush of it seemed to feed her hunger, and she held her arms
out to be surrounded.
An
elephant’s trunk was the closest simile Sara could think of,
except
that the tendrils were anything but rough-skinned. They wrapped
around her waist, her thighs, her arms; two crossed between her
breasts and went up over her shoulders, and then her feet were
leaving the ground. It was an oddly exhilarating sensation.
The
plant lifted her to a level with Grissom, who was sweating freely,
his eyes half-closed in the familiar look of lust and pleasure.
“Sara--” he panted, but before he could say more a tendril
inserted itself lengthwise between his lips, as if offering him
something to bite on.
His
head tilted back and he moaned, a muffled sound, but Sara was
distracted. More tendrils were exploring her, skating over her skin
and making it tingle with urgency. She felt her legs being pulled
apart, and with mingled apprehension and eagerness felt one stroking
her folds, which were already swollen and parting. The tip explored
her delicately, tickling along her tender inner flesh; she whimpered,
only to have another one gently pry her jaws apart and do the same
for her as for Grissom.
The
thing was tough and slightly springy, and tasted of nothing much. Sara
didn’t try to spit it out; one tendril was nosing the opening
of her pussy. She felt a trickle of moisture run down the inside of
her thigh as the thing circled, rubbed, and then slowly pushed
inside; it felt incredible, a slender finger invading her, moving
just where she wanted it, and she bit down on the tendril in her
mouth at the sensation.
Then
it start to swell, and swell, until she was filled to perfection, and
then withdrew almost all the way before pushing back inside. Sara
began to see what Grissom had been experiencing all along; the plant
was the perfect feedback machine, absorbing her responses and
altering to heighten her pleasure.
Oh
it
felt so good, moving slowly in and out of her, never quite gone and
always just deep enough; she could feel it morphing within her to the
ideal shape, curving slightly as the plant sensed her g-spot. Sara
tried to rock her hips into the rhythm, but the grip the tendrils
held on her didn’t allow for much movement.

Glancing
down, she saw the plant produce two more blossoms, smaller than the
one administering to Grissom, and then the tendrils wrapped around
her breasts and the blossoms swallowed her nipples. They were like
tiny mouths, Sara realised hazily; small sucking mouths without teeth
that pulled on her with a light and tender ruthlessness. The tugging
was not quite in rhythm, just enough to keep her on edge.
Then
something fastened gently, wetly, onto her clit, and began sucking,
and Sara almost went out of her mind. She was barely able to realise
that the plant must have generated another blossom; in fact, she was
barely able to realise that she was moaning continuously around the
tendril in her mouth.
All
coherent thought dissolved. She was drowning in sensation, the
suction at her breasts, the slow steady thrust into her pussy, the
lightly rasping suckle on her clit. It was all driving her crazy,
each pulse making her nerves scream with pleasure and the need for
completion. She struggled in the tendrils’ grip, but she could
neither hurry it nor escape.
Then
her eyes met Grissom’s across the space separating them. They
locked on hers, blue dark and desperate with the building pleasure,
and in that moment her mind broke wide open. Suddenly she was
feeling what he felt as well, the delicious, excruciating massage,
the tormenting tug, the wild need to thrust hard. And she knew that
he was feeling what she felt, despite his psychic insensitivity; the
Venus plant seemed to circumvent that.
The
plant continued its stimulation, bringing them to the brink and
holding them there; Sara’s whimpers filled her ears, along with
the
low slick sound of the tendril working in and out of her pussy, and
Grissom’s grunts. It hung them across from each other,
simultaneously displaying and denying, but they were connected
through their gazes. Each stroke, each pulse, seemed unbearable, but
the build went on and on; Sara had never experienced anything close
to this level of intensity, this raging hunger. The soul-deep
connection with Grissom had never gone on this long.
She
was going mad. They both were, no one could endure this torment for
long, and yet it continued, stroke and lap, as though the plant
wanted them preserved in a state of insane desire--
And
then the plant thrust deeper, suckled harder, and Sara felt them both
fall out of time and into a place where there was only the two of
them and an ecstacy that went on and on and on.
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Vaster Than Empires