Title: M is for the manacles imprisoning in your feet
Summary: Sex comes from a science experiment. -OR- Sherlock doesn't know how to approach John about his feelings. :)
Characters: Sherlock H./John W.
Tags: Non-Consensual Bondage, Sherlock does expiriments, Blowjobs, assplay, Fingerfucking, Anal Fingering, Top Sherlock, Bottom John, Manacles, Bondage, Rimming, Dirty Talk
Notes: Image Credit goes to: Doublenegativemeansyes on Tumblr
In October of '14, I began a collection 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: Why is John always tied up in my stories? Chuck knows. Also Sherlock is quite demanding and kinky. Maybe that's just the way I see them. Hmm. This one is really graphic. I kind of went out of my comfort zone to test myself here. You don't really need to be in the Fandom to read this one. It's literally all sex.
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The shops were full. It was a holiday, but it was still pretty odd that there were so many people. John walked passed the aisle of fruit, grabbing Earl Gray (his favorite tea) and Black Tea. (Sherlock's favorite.) He walked to the cashier, arm full of groceries and bagged them, beginning the short trek back to the flat.
The breeze was a crisp, cold London wind that swept over him as a chill went to his spine. He suddenly wished he would have worn a jumper. He arrived home, Mrs. Hudson letting him in and kicking the door shut with his "good" leg behind him. He dropped the twin paper brown bags down on the cluttered kitchen table, pulled out the teapot, filled it with water and lit the stove. He then ran to pee and put something warmer on. The chill was setting in his bones and it was nothing his favorite sweater and some hot tea wouldn't solve.
Relieved and quite satisfied with how his day was going, he finally sat in his recliner, breathing a deep sigh after his first sip of Earl Gray. He crossed his legs, right over left and opened the book he bought at the shop. He sighed as he cracked the spine of the heavy novel and began the first Chapter. He sipped his tea and smiled. That was the last thing he remembered.
Bright. So bright. John didn't remember turning the overhead light on. And he was cold again. John opened his eyes, but he didn't remember closing them. He looked up and saw the kitchen ceiling, a bright white light bulb swinging from the hanging lamp as his eyesight adjusted to the blurry figure standing above him. He went to rub his eyes, but found it improbable when a loud tink sounded and his hand wouldn't extend past the length of chain holding him down.
Panic is what he filled him in that moment.
"Wha-" John shook his head and closed his eyes, the amount of pressure building behind his eyes was unbelievable.
"Ah, you're awake." The figure turned around, the enigma splitting into three figures, twisting and curling into one figure, then back to three again.
"Barely." John barked out, seeing the figure come to light as he bent down, the white of his teeth shining through.
"I was beginning to think I had given you too much tranquillizer."
"Sherlock, you drugged me?"
"Only a little." He pointed one finger towards the heavens, an insane look in his eyes. "For the sake of science!"
"A-and why am I tied down?" John pulled at his ankles just to be sure those weren't free. Alas, they were not.
"Because you may or may not like what I'm going to do."
John sighed. Of course. Which meant that he would probably have to sit here, bored out of his mind for hours on end with nothing to stare at but the light in his face. However, if he was meant to sit here bored, why was he naked?
"And why am I naked?" He said out loud, his curiosity getting the best of him.
"Just go along with it, you boring man." Sherlock pat the top of John's head three times, like a child, and not exactly helping the growing pain in his skull. "Have a sense of adventure, and enjoy your nudity! I am."
Sherlock moved closer to John's midsection and ran a hand down his abdominal section, tickling his side. John wiggled, keeping his chuckle under his breath and trying his best to keep silent.
"What scientific experiment are you conducting, if you don't mind me asking?" John laid his head back, ignoring the urge to shy away from the imploring fingertips.
"I do, actually." Sherlock moved farther down the table, laying his palm down flat on John's right ankle.
"Give me an idea."
"The nervous system is all the cells, tissue, and nerves that coordinate responses to internal and external stimuli. It's what tells the brain to react when you cut your finger with a kitchen knife cutting vegetables."
"I am a medical doctor, you know." His hands waved from where they were tied down at his sides, stopping when the length of chain stopped short.
"Precisely why it had to be you. I want to see the body's reaction to a situation where it knows it's being tested, and I get an adverse effect."
"You won't hurt me, will you?"
"If I don't have to, no." Sherlock wrapped his hand around John's left calf, squeezing lightly as if to massage it.
"If you don't have to?!" John started to panic again, beginning to flail his appendages, before feeling defeated and laying his head back again, biting his lip and taking deep breaths. "You've got a cattle prod or something, haven't you? That's why I may not like it? Let me go! NOW, Sherl-"
Sherlock moved quickly, bracing his hands on either side of John's face before sealing his lips over the doctors.
John's eyebrows raised.
"W-w-wh-." He gave up for a moment, going slack and let the detective kiss him. Sherlock pulled himself backwards, not letting go of John's face.
Sherlock pulled back quickly, effectively shutting him up. He seemed to observe John's face (Pupils blown, heartbeat quickened ) and dove back in with his soft lips.
"Fascinating." Sherlock's eyes grew wide as he observed the effectiveness of his tactic.
"Wh-why?" John took a shuttering breath but couldn't quite get the words out he wanted to.
"I told you to expect it." Sherlock said matter-of-factly.
"You told me to expect you to kiss me?"
"Oh, John. Expect more than that."
"M-more?"
Sherlock moved closer, John could feel his sweet breath on his lips. He expected another kiss, but instead got a harsh whisper.
"We've shared a flat now for quite some time. I hear you, at night, you know. Shuttering, biting back moans of pleasure." Sherlock moved to speak into his ear. "I hear you silence yourself as you moan my name when you come."
Oh. Well. Shite. He thought he'd been quite sneaky about that.
"I do no such thing!" John's exasperated breath reached the cusps of Sherlock's earlobe.
"Now, now, Watson. Don't lie. I can tell when you're lying." Sherlock bit down on John's ear lightly and let out a breathy chuckle, standing up fully again. Sherlock ran his finger down, starting at John's lips, down his neck, Adam's apple, then he spoke. "Admit it. Say you lied."
"I-I didn't. I do not-" He tried to push the words off his tongue, but they wouldn't come out. He felt like a teenager, embarrassed about saying dirty words. "Do that."
Sherlock continued his journey south, tickling his fingertip down John's beautiful pale chest, infallible skin stretching for what seemed to be miles and miles. He stopped at John's right nipple, circling it slowly, erotically, before giving it a light pinch.
"Ow! Get off!" John shouted at his flat mate.
"Trust me. I'm trying. " Sherlock pinched it tighter. "Say it. Tell me you lied."
"I don't! I swear, Sherlock.. just.. let me go!" Sherlock leaned down and took the hardened bud of John's nipple into his mouth, rolling it with his tongue.
"Tell me you lied and I'll consider it." Sherlock spoke around his nipple, his hot breath mingling with the saliva.
"Fine!"
Sherlock bit down lightly.
"I-I do. Yes. I do." If he could knead his temples in frustration and defeat, he would be.
"Say it."
John was getting quite annoyed, huffing a breath and powering through his embarrassment of saying naughty terms.
"I jack off and I think of you. I dream about your hands on me," John pulled at his restraints. "Your lips on mine. Your hand on my cock. Yes, for the love of god, yes. Now will you let me go?"
"And?"
"I lied about it."
"Good boy." Sherlock pulled off John's nipple, a barely there kiss under his ribs. "Tell me more."
"You've had your fun. Let me- let me go." John so badly wanted to hide his face and run away.
"No. I don't think so. Not until I've gotten proper results." Sherlock moved back along John's side, running his fingers down his sides.
"What results are you trying to get?"
"No use in spoiling the fun." Sherlock smirked.
"I thought you said I would know what to expect?"
"Consider yourself warned." Sherlock hopped onto the table, his legs on either side of John's hips, immediately crushing his lips into John's. "Tell me more."
"I don't know what else to say." John's brain adjusted to the thought of kissing Sherlock by now. Used to the thundering sensation and light heartedness he felt every time their lips touched.
"What you think about when you touch yourself. Humor me."
"I think I've humored you enough."
Sherlock latched his teeth into the flesh of John's neck, suckling lightly.
"Al-alright!" He shouted. "You win."
Sherlock pulled off and looked into John's eyes.
"I-" John sighed deeply. He'd never told anyone what he imagined behind closed doors. "I imagine your lips. Kissing me."
"Where? Details, John." Sherlock snickered.
"My - my prick." John spat out quickly.
Sherlock moved slowly, slinking down John's pliant body, until he was nose to steel hard cock. He kissed the head, and John let out a gasp. Sherlock took his cock in his hand, and kissed the shaft nearest John's balls. He peppered kisses up the length.
"And then?"
John had his eyes shut, head back and jaw opened wide. All thought out the window as Sherlock lightly kissed his cock and squeezed gently, reminding John he had asked him a question.
"You lick me."
Sherlock dragged his tongue all the way from the bottom of John's shaft to the very tip, dipping in at the head and swirling.
"Like that?"
"Sometimes."
"What else do I do?"
"Are you meaning to tell me-ahh." Sherlock twirled his tongue around the head, his hot saliva sticking and cooling in the crisp air. "You're going to act out everything I tell you?"
" Yes. And stick to your fantasy, John. I'll know otherwise."
John shivered. This was going to be interesting.
"So only sometimes I lick you this way? Where else do I lick you, John?"
John let out a moan of delight as Sherlock took the tip of his cock in his mouth, sucking generously.
"Lower."
"Lower where?"
"My-my-" He couldn't bring himself to say it.
"Don't be coy. I've got your dick in my mouth and you can't say a single word? That's sad, really."
"It's my arse, you pompous prick. You lick and tongue and finger my ass before you fuck me silly. There. I'd like to see you say that under these conditions." John harrumphed, ignoring the man on his knees, tonguing his prick.
"Was that so hard?"
"Yes, you bleeding idiot."
John began rearing up for a rant about how irresponsible and complicated Sherlock was, but all was forgotten when Sherlock sat up and began to lift John's legs at the knee, pushing them over his shoulders. His face was beet red. Sherlock Holmes was about to rim him, Jesus Christ Almighty.
"What on Earth are you doing?"
"Simply what you've instructed. I assure you, I may be new to this, but I can still find my way around down there."
Sherlock spread John's cheeks and the rosy bud of John's hole was within his reach. He kitten licked at it and John gave a blissful moan.
"Fuck!"
When Sherlock decided the taste wasn't as bad as he thought it would be, he dove in, John spewing unintelligible babble.
"Ohjesusfucking-ohfuck-jesus- Sherlock." John threw his head back and forth, the feeling indescribable. He huffed, breath coming in hard and fast as Sherlock enjoyed the task at hand.
He tried different tactics, elongated his tongue and shallowly poked in, wiggling just the tip before having to pull back to breathe. John all but hyperventilated, Sherlock swiping his tongue around his hole, dipping in. Sherlock pushed his tongue in as far as it would go, John's balls resting on his forehead and wiggled.
"Explain how it feels."
" F-fuuck. I- Jesus . I can't even explain how that feels."
Sherlock removed his tongue and nosed the underside of John's balls. "Try."
"It-It ffeels wonderful."
"You'd better get used to saying dirty words, John or we'll be at this for days. Now stop being a child and tell me... How does it feel?"
"It feels like all my nerves are standing on end and I want to shout out and i want to make all these noises and I-" John realized he was rambling, and quickly he shut himself up and got to the point. "It makes me wonder what your cock might feel like. If it will feel this-this mind-blowing."
"Good." Sherlock rubbed John's outer flank, a soothing notion that he'd done what he was asked, bowing back down to lick at the puckered entrance. He sucked in his fingertip into his warm mouth and slowly pushed it into John.
John pulled on his lashings. That felt.. odd.
Sherlock was the second knuckle in before he started thrusting it shallowly, pausing to lick and nurture the hyperventilating man. Sherlock got his third knuckle in before perking up to suck on John's ball. He rolled it in his mouth, the fine hairs of John's public area tickling him. He slotted his finger deeper, probing for the soft spongy prostate that he'd been looking for all this time. When he succeeded, he knew immediately. John gasped and cried out, his sudden lust uncontainable as he bucked his hips and fucked down onto Sherlock's finger.
"Sherlock, I-" John bucked as Sherlock rubbed the spot again, moving up to suck the head of his cock back into his mouth. "I need you."
"Ahhh." Sherlock dropped his cock out of his mouth with a loud pop. "You decided to speak English instead of the garble you've been speaking. Congratulations."
John chuckled, a blissful look in his eyes as he peered down at the man he felt so deeply for.
"Shut it, you ass." John joked, fucking himself back down on Sherlock's finger. "I'm done. If you're going to bugger me, just - just do it."
"Can't." Sherlock slumped loudly, pushing back as far as he could and twisting, curling his finger and eliciting another lustful gasp from his plaything. "Research proves that according to my size and girth, I must work you up to at least 3 fingers."
"What happened to hurting me if you have to?"
"I wouldn't on purpose, John. You would do care to know that."
"Then just do it! I can take it. I'm a soldier, I've taken more pain than you can possibly imagine."
Sherlock pulled off John's cock.
"As you wish." Sherlock pulled the lone finger out, putting his index and middle together, sliding it into the pliant flesh.
"Ffuuuckk."
"Do you not do this when you pleasure yourself?"
"I never had to."
Sherlock scissored his fingers spreading them wide and fucking them in, making John pant and groan. Sherlock smirked, spreading his fingers and tonguing the space in between. At this point he was drenched.
" Not gonna last much longer, Sherlock. "
Sherlock circled his unused fingers around the base of John's cock, stopping any possibility of him coming anytime soon. He held firm, pushing his fingers as far as they would go.
"I suppose that's quite enough of that."
"Are you going to untie me now?"
Sherlock pulled out of John's ass with a rude squelch, wiping his fingers on his thigh before standing.
"Yes."
"Thank god. My fingers are numb."
"oh no no no. Just half of you. The half of you I need . "
Sherlock moved to the edge of the table, unlashing his ankles, slowly. One at a time. John was bursting with anticipation, pulling his knees up as soon as they were free. He stretched them out, pushing them back down flat on the table. Sherlock took hold of his ankles, pushing them up as he undid his belt, his button and then his zipper.
He was calm and collected as he scaled the table, hopping over John's legs and slotting himself back down where he was comfortable. John looked at him like there was nothing else in the world at that moment. The only thing he wanted was Sherlock. His crazy, highly functioning sociopathic flat mate, all for him.
"Ready? It's not too late to say no."
"You didn't give me a choice before, I don't see why you should now."
"You're a silly man."
Sherlock trusted forward, not giving him a chance to reply. He slotted his cock with John's, rubbing the pre-come that had gathered on them both during foreplay, lubricating the rough surface of their warm flesh. Sherlock palmed John's peck, admiring and worshiping the man's body beneath him before bowing down to kiss the soldier deeply, rolling his nipple in his hand. Sherlock thrust forward again, this time catching the underside of John's balls and hit his perineum, making him gasp. He pulled back and started again, the head of Sherlock's cock breaching John's stretched hole. He pushed in, softly thrusting the tip at the entrance and John let out a hearty grunt, signifying he was a bit uncomfortable.
"It'll pass, I know." John nodded up at Sherlock, the muscles in his neck strained as he tried not to focus on the pain. Sherlock treaded lightly, and latched his teeth into John's neck, suckling and pushing forward, mixed moans of pain and pleasure swirling in the air. John forgot to breathe, and Sherlock marched on, half way in and warm, tight, bliss met him. Sherlock refocused, taking John's lips with his own, licking into the slack mouth. Sherlock moaned, the taste and feel of John entirely surrounding him too much to bare, he gripped onto his shoulders and pushed the rest of the way in. John's eyes grew wide and Sherlock kissed his cheek signifying that he was in. The hard part was over. He sat back and let John's body adjust to the intrusion, feeling his muscles grip and tighten around him. Sherlock was well endowed, and this would take some getting used to.
"How does it feel?" Sherlock's curiosity got the better of him. He had to ask.
"Like you have your fist up there." John blinked back a stray tear clouding his eyesight, and let his head fall back on the table with a loud thump. "Jesus. Just- m-move or something, will you? Please? "
Say what you will about Sherlock's attitude, his personality, his quirks, but he considered himself a generous lover. When he was asked to do something, especially when asked so politely, he couldn't help but comply.
When he pulled out only half a centimeter, John's back arched, wanting so badly to scream. But he wasn't sure why. Pain, pleasure, who really knew the difference anymore? He wanted to rake his fingernails down Sherlock's spine and run his fingers through his hair, when he tried, his arms were bounced back, returning to their place on the table. Sherlock took his time pulling the rest of the way out, agonizingly slow and pushed back in just as slow.
John huffed. He needed to touch and feel. He pulled his restraints again, expecting different results. Sherlock pumped in, oblivious to the inner turmoil that was going on in John's head. Sherlock tilted his hips, immediately nailing the spongy prostate he'd been aiming for. John couldn't have moaned louder.
"Jesus-fucking-Christ!" He took in labored breath, pulling his arms down as far as he could, clenching his fists. He got 2 cm from Sherlock's face before he was stopped short. "Sherlock, Sherlock, please. Please, I beg you. Let my arms go."
Sherlock reached up, without a word and un- latched the left, then the right. The instant he was released, his hands flew to Sherlock's hair, clutching at the strands as he yanked Sherlock down for a passionate kiss.
His hands went lower as Sherlock fucked back in, and John palmed the strong muscles of Sherlock's back. He dug his claws in and Sherlock nailed his prostate again, stars lighting in his eyes. John roamed his hands under Sherlock's shirt and down his pants to grasp at the firm globes of Sherlock's ass, pulling him in impossibly deeper. Making them fuck faster and harder.
John let out unintelligible grunts and gasps, Sherlock fucked into the tight heat of the man beneath him, it all felt surreal, dreams came true.
Sherlock puffed hot breath into his ear, small grunts ebbing and flowing, faster, harder until Sherlock gripped John's shoulders hard.
"John," exasperated, he whispered. "In your fantasy, how do I finish?"
"Honest? I never get that far. I always come before this part." John let out a light chuckle that grew into a moan, a particularly hard jab at his prostate forcing his head back.
"May I-" Sherlock peppered kisses across John's neck, across his shoulder. "Inside?"
"God, yes." John returned the favor, placing a light kiss to Sherlock's neck before laying back and looking into Sherlock's dark eyes, gazing at the beauty before him.
Sherlock huffed, reaching down and grasped John's cock, jacking it in time with his thrusts, nailing his prostate every time and John couldn't bite his tongue, he started moaning uncontrollably. John felt the pressure building and came, gloriously across Sherlock's knuckles as he bit down on Sherlock's shoulder. Sherlock felt John's muscles contract and the pressure he felt clamped down on himself was unbelievable, making himself feel out of control and wonderful all at once. Sherlock's mind shut down and he came, all thoughts focused on one thing in particular. Doctor John Watson. He blinked his eyes and smiled, all the whispers and chit chats normally in his brain, silenced. He collapsed forward, his chin resting on the crook of John's neck, listening to the pair breathe in unison. It was a comfortable silence, a warm and soft glow overhanging them as they sorted out the thoughts running through their head.
"So, I guess everyone was right." John chuckled as Sherlock picked up his head to roll over next to him.
Sherlock moved and tucked his head onto John's chest, listening to his heartbeat thunder in his ears.
"How were they right?" Sherlock closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of John. Old spice and natural scents. Wonderful.
"I am in love with you." John smiled but kept his line of sight at the ceiling, not wanting to see what Sherlock was going to say.
"I suppose that's no good." Sherlock looked up at John, nothing but adoration on his face. "I- I believe I love you too."
Sherlock never saw the single tear slip down John's face as he stayed as still as he could and enjoyed the post coital bliss with his crazy, highly functioning sociopathic lover.
It's funny how this happened because Sherlock decided he was bored and wanted to conduct an experiment.
It was the happiest moment of his life.