A/N: I would apologise for this, except I'm not sorry. Not at all.
Pairings: Handcuffs/Riding Crop/Sherlock/Mr Skull, hints of John/Sherlock.
Warnings: PWP. I got this idea stuck in my head and couldn't rest until I wrote it. It's just basically crack. Graphic crack. I don't know how to put warnings but please CONSIDER YOURSELF WARNED. Seriously though, anything with a pairing of Sherlock/Mr Skull is going to be insane. So. It's your own fault if you scar yourself.
Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock. This is a work of fiction. It is just for fun. :)
Mr Skull surveyed his handiwork with a proud grin, hopping closer along the pillow to Sherlock's head. The man was handcuffed to his bed, his eyes slowly blinking awake as he looked around the room and tried to work out what was happening. The first thing he noticed was that his hands were cuffed above his head. The second was that he was naked.
"Sir Riding Crop, I think it's time you showed Sherlock Holmes just how much you appreciate him," Mr Skull said, looking down to where Riding Crop was softly brushing his leather tip against the inside of Sherlock's thigh.
Sherlock gasped in surprise, staring at Mr Skull with wide eyes before turning his gaze to Riding Crop, who had moved closer to start stroking his erection – since when did he have an erection?
"Don't fight it, Sherlock," Mr Skull said soothingly, closing the distance and rubbing lovingly against the man's cheek. "I've been meaning to show you for a while now just how much I love you. Riding Crop and Handcuffs wanted to join in, and they certainly are helping. Don't you see? We love you more than John Watson ever could."
"But- but-" Sherlock wasn't sure what to say. He was finding it difficult to resist the feelings which threatened to overcome him. Riding Crop certainly knew how to make him feel good.
"You love me, don't you?" Mr Skull whispered, suddenly desperate for some confirmation. Sherlock turned to look at him, eyes still wide and incoherent noises escaping his lips. "It doesn't matter... I'll make you love me."
Suddenly, Sherlock felt Riding Crop move away, and looked down to see the object repositioning itself so that its handle was closest to him. He started to panic when he saw it creeping closer, and began calling out for help when it pressed gingerly against his entrance.
"Stop," Mr Skull demanded suddenly, and Riding Crop stilled. "Sherlock, talk to me. This won't happen if you don't want it, but you do want it don't you?"
"You're not... you're a skull," Sherlock murmured.
"Of course I'm a skull," Mr Skull sighed. "Have you forgotten about our friendship? We were so wonderfully close until John Watson came along and stole you from me. Please, Sherlock, I know you still care about me. I just want to show you that I can give you whatever you need so you don't need John!"
Sherlock stared at Mr Skull silently for another moment before closing his eyes and giving in with a nod. "Yes, yes I want it. I've always loved you because you've always understood me. Please, do it."
"Good boy," Mr Skull said with another smile before turning to Riding Crop and saying, "Go!"
Riding Crop needed no further encouragement before gently pushing against Sherlock's entrance and slowly breaching him. Sherlock moaned, parting his legs further to allow easier access as he pulled against Handcuffs. He opened his mouth, panting as he felt more and more of Riding Crop entering him, and suddenly found his mouth covered by Mr Skull's.
Everything seemed to be happening at once and he was lost in the sensations which assaulted him. Riding Crop sliding in and out rhythmically, Mr Skull kissing him and Handcuffs keeping a firm hold of his wrists. His eyes rolled behind his eyelids and his toes curled against the sheet on his bed.
It wasn't much longer before Sherlock reached his climax without anything even touching his member – to his utter surprise. He cried out as he came and Mr Skull bit down on his lip, drawing blood. As Riding Crop slowly pulled out, Sherlock opened his eyes again and stared at Mr Skull, breathing heavily.
"Wasn't that amazing?" Mr Skull asked him softly.
"Yes," Sherlock nodded. "Thank you."
He looked down at Riding Crop again, smiling as the black object began stroking his thighs once more.
Suddenly, John burst in through the door, panting and looking around the room fearfully.
"Sherlock are you okay? I heard-"
He stopped talking abruptly, his face draining of all colour.
"Um... sorry... I'll just go..."
As soon as he had arrived, he was gone, and Sherlock laughed along with Mr Skull.
