To my beloved K.

Chapter 1

- This is our last time. – Irene put her hand on Mycroft's shoulder. – I'm leaving tomorrow. Forever we hope. They exchanged glances full of meaning. Irene's departure was set out for now. Her leaving London was a great relief for a number of people connected to her. She was promised protection, shelter, tons of money and relative freedom away from the capital. Away from Sherlock as well. Of course, Mycroft was involved in the operation but as usual preferred to act as nothing concerned him. Not this time, at least.

This matter was getting far too personal. He did know Sherlock was aware of the fact Irene was back to England after her eastern adventures and was trying to contact her. The efforts she learnt about and could be inclined to support. That was a bad, bad idea. Mycroft could not let his brother under this attack one more time. It was too much for Sherlock. And too much for him. Too much risk Sherlock would slip again. Too much risk he would fall for her and be left broken and used. Little Sherlock who never really learnt to play in the adult world. Not that he did know how to do it in the kids' one. So Mycroft knew he had to put an end to it. ASAP.

Unfortunately for him it also meant the end of his own guilty pleasure being satisfied by the dominatrix. She might have not reached for Sherlock but she was pretty cunning to drag Mycroft into her web. At least, he could control his tongue, even when he could not speak because his mouth was gagged.

He exchanged Irene's services with his own efforts trying (and succeeding) in getting her deal sealed at best terms possible. She had the power to put him on his knees but he could make the whole country kneel for her.

She walked a circle around him which was always the start of their itinerary as they called it. The subspace was waiting with its doors open. Mycroft once thought Irene's dungeon was some kind of a confessional. He was bare there under the eyes of his own begging for mercy, begging to be purified of his sins. And he knew for sure that the priestess would never tell anyone a word of what he did or said in that room. Not because she had any ethic code but because she knew she would be found dead the instance after she opened her mouth to reveal anything about the almighty Mycroft Holmes. This twisted pleasure of being dominated for some time by the person he dominated always was Mycroft kick. Well, not the only one we'd say.

Irene knew her business well. She quickly got the things and tricks Mycroft liked even they spoke so little. But she was a good observer and had a nasty drive which Mycroft enjoyed tremendously. He could always expect some dirty little move from her.

Now he was looking with his head down on her shiny shoes black shoes with spiky heels as she walked lazily around him looking at his naked body with contempt. Probably she did not have to pretend but Mycroft was already half-aroused nevertheless.

Standing on a lavish carpet in her dimmed room he felt exposed and relieved at the same time. It was like becoming a child again, returning to the time when shame and lust did not exist, feeling free for a while. Well, that was weird considering he was wearing a collar with a long thick chain right now. Irene had a vast range of proper devices to please him in any way possible, and he loved the fact she chose expensive pieces. Even unveiled, Mycroft preferred comfort and luxury. The carpet was excellent as well just as the bed and the bathroom. Mycroft could have continued taking his mental notes for a long while but Irene's cold voice brought him back to reality.

- Remember the safeword?

He nodded and was immediately spanked across his pale buttocks with a riding crop. A quick, meticulous shot which made his balls tingle with anticipation.

- Yes, my lady. – He replied with prompt obedience feeling his sensual perception started to drift towards the open gate of the subspace.

- Then. – Irene paused and that moment was filled with dark triumph. – On your knees!