Title: F is for my flogger, I whip you so violent
Summary: Woot. Sherlock p***, as promised. This one is definitely PWP, which is what I've been aiming to write this whole time.
Characters: Sherlock H./John W.
Tags: Floggers, JohnLock, BDSM, Bondage, Kinda Non-Con (But not really), Mature Language, rimming, prep stuff, anal sex
Notes: Image Credit goes to: Screencap. Season 01, Episode 01. BBC.
OPINIONS, REACTIONS & COMMENTS ARE WONDERFUL. FOR EVERY REVIEW I RECEIVE, I'LL GIVE AWAY A MILLION DOLLARS! (WHEN BILL GATES FINALLY CAVES TO MY REQUEST.)
In October of '14, I began a collection on Ao3 titled "The Abc's of Kinky Sex" (based upon The Lords of Acid song of the same name) where I took each of the 26 letters (Different ships & fandoms) and made a fic about each line. It took me almost 7 months to finish, but I never posted Z. Doing a little facelift and posting to this website as well. Enjoy!
Original Notes: N/A
"How many?" Sherlock lightly tapped the end of the flogger against his bottom lip. "How many do you think you deserve, Dr. Watson?"
John worried at the thick rope lashed around his wrists properly bending him over the recliner in their debauched living room. Sherlock had had another boredom fit and trashed it. When John came home to the flat he scolded him. Sherlock tackled him and tied him up while John screamed profanities.
"None, Sherlock. I'm not playing into your games!" Sherlock tapped the flogger on the back of John's trousers.
"Now, now, Watson. You scolded me when it wasn't proper. I was bored. Therefore, anything I do is not entirely my fault. It's either, you give me a number or I'll flog you-" Sherlock took his time stretching over John's back to whisper into his ear. Releasing a thin and slow breath onto his earlobe. "Until you beg for more."
"Sherlock, please." John looked back as best he could, considering his position. "Don't. I-"
"One hundred, then?"
"No, please-"
"One hundred and fifty?" Sherlock promptly cut him off.
John took a deep breath. This was going to happen rather be wanted it to or not.
"Twenty-five?" John asked questioningly.
"Twenty-five is hardly enough to turn your cheeks pink." Sherlock gave a sigh. "I suppose it's fair." Sherlock wrapped his arm around John's pants and fiddled with the belt. "Off with it, then."
"You- what?"
"Well, I can't give you a spanking with your trousers on. Off, I say!"
John blushed and pulled his knees up as far as he could.
Sherlock pulled the belt off with ease, reaching next for the button and fly. He slipped the pants over John's hips. Over his knees and off his ankles. Sherlock had to suppress his gasp at the new revelation. No underwear.
"I was in a rush this morning." John blushed. Amazed that THIS was what he blushed about. Apparently being bent over a sofa was comfortable enough.
Sherlock lightly tapped at John's crack with the tails of the whip, and John flinched at the first swipe.
"I want you to count for me." Sherlock ran his hand down John's flank, caressing as he went. "Out loud."
Swipe.
"One."
Smack. Harder, this time.
"Ow! Two!"
Another, even harder still.
"Bloody hell, Sherlock. Three! That hurts! Why are you hitting me so hard?"
"I dunno. I suppose it's because I want something. Something-" John could hear Sherlock's tongue swipe out across his teeth. "Something else. No, this isn't right. Try calling me -" Sherlock returned the flogger to his lips as he thought. "master. Or sir, if you prefer."
"Sherlock, I'm not going to call you-"
Smack. The hardest yet.
"Fo-four, sir!"
Sherlock made a low growl. Almost animalistic.
John tried to shut out the other twenty, but it was very difficult when forced to participate.
"Twenty-five, sir." Sherlock rubbed the warm skin of his pink cheeks and pulled him apart. John was gasping for breath trying to will away the engorged prick hanging between his legs.
"It's so intriguing." Sherlock mumbled. "The way you pant when you're aroused. It's encouraging."
"I'm not-"
"Your pupils are enlarged; your breathing has quickened and the stiff prick between your legs kind of gives it away." Sherlock shrugged and turned, stretching himself over John's back. "You forget whom you're lying to."
"Alright. Yeah, I am. What of it?"
"I'm still bored."
"And?" John lifted his bound hands. "What am I supposed to do about it?"
"Stay put."
Sherlock slid off his back and stopped at John's red cheek, sticking his tongue against John's pronounced hole.
"W-wh-what're you doing?" John gasped.
"Preparing you, of course. I wouldn't call myself a mannered person, but I am not stupid. I won't hurt you."
"Hurt me? Hurt me doing what?"
Sherlock flattened his tongue and ran it up, vertically. He felt John quiver and squirm.
"Interesting." John whined.
"I'm going to take a guess and say you haven't had this before."
"No, not quite. My ex stuck her finger up my-" John cleared his throat. "Why am I telling you this?"
"Because I want to know." Sherlock poked his tongue into John as far as it would go. John moaned.
Sherlock could hear John's voice shiver before he raised his finger and played with the rim. He poked his tongue out and wiggled it, sliding his finger alongside it.
"It may feel uncomfortable for a bit. You'll get used to it. I promise. Just relax."
"Yeah, I got that."
Sherlock went back to licking, happily, making the hole as sloppy as possible while John moaned away. Sherlock pressed his finger deeper, into the second knuckle and licked around it, moaning at the sweet taste of his flat mate.
"If I'd have known you tasted this good, I'd have done this ages ago."
"Sh-shut up, Sherlock." John stuttered. Sherlock may have been behind him but he could see the blush spreading across his face.
Sherlock pushed the last bit in, pulling it out and enjoying the sounds John was making. He put two fingers together and pushed at John's rim.
"Sher-Sherlock." John chanced a peek back. "I don't think I can take much more."
Sherlock pushed his fingers forward. "You have to, or you'll never be able to take me. I don't want to hurt you. I promised I wouldn't."
"Take you? Like-" John visibly gulped. "Take you, take you? You're gonna- I mean, you want to?"
"I told you I was bored. And it's been a while." Sherlock twisted his fingers inside, spreading them open and shut, like scissors. "Unless you'd like me to find someone else?"
"Ohmygod. Uh- no. No, I suppose not." John let out a breathy chuckle.
Sherlock pulled almost all the way out, fingers spread wide. He put the third with the other two and softly pushed in. John's jaw dropped and the sounds coming out of his mouth were a mix of non-english words and breathy groans.
"Enjoying yourself, Watson?"
"Actually, yeah." John took a deep breath and fiddled with the rope lashed around his wrists. "You keep poking my prostate and it actually feels pretty w-wonderful. I'd never had imagined."
"Good, because you're ready. You're sure you want to do this?"
"Wait, won't this make me like," John tried his best not to sound like a teenager. "Your boyfriend?"
"Well, I suppose. If you enjoy it, I mean. If you don't, well won't that be awkward. Right!" Sherlock exclaimed loudly. "Let's do this." He unbuttoned his trousers and peeled off his boxer briefs, sporting his hard, glistening cock in the air. He thrusted forward, gently, gliding his cock over John's crack, slicking it up. The more he humped into it, the easier it got.
Sherlock stopped, gripping himself at the base, teasing John's hole with the head.
"Sherlock, just do it." John bucked back. "I can take it. I'm a soldier for Christ's sake."
Sherlock pushed in. When he felt the warmth and tightness of it, he let out a gasp, wanting so badly to push all the way in. He stopped himself, and John accepted another 2 inches.
"Fuck." Hearing such vulgarity from John's lips was definitely new. He reached down and wrapped his hand around his slowly growing cock, moaning the instant he made contact.
Sherlock kept pushing in, twisting his hips and shallowly thrusting. Sherlock let out a growl and pushed all the way in due to his impatience, making John wail.
"Oh my god. Ohmyfuckinggod."
John clenched the hand that wasn't around his cock in a tight grip onto the recliner, making his knuckles pale.
Sherlock stopped, silently waiting for permission.
"Move, before I flip you over and ride you." John turned his head around to look at Sherlock the best he could.
"Maybe next time." Sherlock winked.
Sherlock pulled almost the whole way out, gently pushing back in. He thrusted his hips in circles, a tactic he researched to best find the prostate.
John picked up the pace on his now fully swollen cock, throwing his head back every time Sherlock pushed in.
"Fuck, I already feel like I'm gonna come." John chuckled slightly. "Is that bad?"
"Not at all. I think I'm right there with you." Sherlock pushed all the way in, lightly running his fingernails down John's back, pressing into his skin and leaving red welts in their place.
John pumped furiously on his cock, his moans gaining higher and higher in octave as we went.
"That's it." John whispered. "Right there, yes! Yes! Fuuuuccck, Sherlock." John came all over his knuckles and his stomach.
John clenched down, tightening his hole much more and Sherlock saw stars, coming into John and breathing little pants. Sherlock fell onto John, not pulling out, not moving, just focusing on not passing out.
John huffed a breath. The aftershocks of his fantasticwonderfulstupendous orgasm started winding down and let's be honest, his knees were killing him. He bucked back, giving Sherlock the hint and he flopped backward onto the opposing recliner.
"So, boyfriend-" Sherlock gave a slow drawl, dragging out the word. "When will you be ready for round two?" Sherlock said with a wink.