AUTHOR'S FIRST NOTE

So... I have basically, after five years of writing fanfiction, crossed the line and written something that in some ways can be counted as a smut fic (or it can in any case be counted as quite dirty). I would lie if I didn't admit that I feel that it has messed up my moral compass. I didn't think that I had it in me but, well, apparently I had.

This story is set after the events in Belgravia involving a naked woman, American agents, a syringe and a riding crop and it's inspired by what is implied in the scenes that came after. Anyway, as I consider myself a writer dedicated to the show's canon, I have tried to keep it close to canon while also tried whenever possible to turn up the intensity. This one will be published as a four chapter story and yes, for once I can apply explicit warnings about the content. This story will contain graphic depictions of sexual fantasies, implied sexual advancements without consent, adult and abusive themes and depictions of dominance and submission. It's the Woman's POV we are talking about after all. Of course there will also be spoilers for "A Scandal in Belgravia" (2012).

Well, I think that's it. Are we ready? My heart is seriously pounding so fast with nervousness right now that I'm going to explode! I'm both excited and terrified of posting this to you! But, well… I think there is only one thing left to say:

Shall we begin?

Chapter one

A SIMPLE WOMAN

The dominatrix of Belgravia didn't consider herself a complicated woman. In fact, she rather thought of herself as quite simple. Well aware of her strengths and her weaknesses, she played her cards thereafter while living after one single rule, the only rule she knew she would be able to keep – that there were no rules applying to her. Nothing felt better than balancing on the edge of the acceptable and actually falling over it. There didn't need to be a purpose or a reason. Just that it was fun. Indeed, she was a simple woman that really liked enjoying herself. Moreover, that didn't mean that others involved in her fun had just as much fun as she did. Playing over the edge with powerful people created powerful enemies but after all, there was a reason she was a dominatrix.

The autumn wind blew cold against her skin as she began to climb up the small ladder on the brick wall on the characteristic London property. She had heard rumours earlier during the morning that a cold front was going to approach the city during the evening. No one could have known that a vicious heat wave had decided that she wasn't done yet for the evening and was now moving quickly and unstoppably towards 221B Baker Street.

The woman could admit that the afternoon hadn't turned out exactly as she had planned. The interruption by the Americans at her house was unexpected but not unintelligible. There were indeed many people that wanted her gone because of the countless of secrets clients had given to her (voluntarily sometimes, most times involuntarily) that was stored on the camera phone she now had strapped securely to her leg. The small device was her largest trophy, as well as her life insurance, and she would do whatever was necessary to have it remain in her own hands. Playing fair wasn't really her thing. Why should it be, when it was much easier to cheat? She enjoyed playing games but enjoyed winning even more and that was also exactly what she had done this afternoon against an unusually skilful opponent.

Her research had been profound as always. Webb pages, varying pictures and of course the tabloids' increasingly more frequent accounts about involvements in criminal cases. This, and some particularly useful advices, had made her confident that she was ready to start a new game against the expected visitor on her doorstep.

The detective. The Virgin...

The first actual meeting had been more unpredictable though than she had thought but also much more amusing. Her plan had been to make a certain impression on him and that she was sure she had succeeded with. The game had begun and was now fully in motion and she had decided it was already time for the next step. The plan was simple. She would return some things that she had acquired during the day that belonged to him. After all, she was a cunning player, not a thief. Also, if an opportunity was thrown her way, she had always been exceptionally good at figuring out quickly how to make the best of it, both for the sake of the game and for her own constantly unsatisfied cravings after increasingly thrilling pleasures.

It seemed to be much easier to break into the room in the flat on the second floor than she had expected. With the increasingly famous (or infamous, depending on your preferences) reputation that the detective had gained in the city during the last few months, she had suspected that he would take equally much precaution. On the other hand, like in any other of the games she had played, this one had acquired her to learn explicit details about a wide range of players involved. In this case, she had not only found out a great deal about the younger brother through her research but also about the older one - theIce Man. It seemed like little brother always had big brother's eyes watching him. They were indeed eyes that would be enough protection for anyone but not in the world she lived in. Even how much he tried, the Ice Man couldn't always protect his little brother, something that had been proved just a few hours ago and that she now became more and more tempted to prove again as she looked in through the window and saw the contours of a man's body lying on a large bed in the middle of the dark room she intended to enter.

Still the woman waited, even hesitated for a moment. It wasn't that she couldn't get in. That she could. She had broken in through a wide range of different windows during her carrier, into varying kinds of chambers owned by aristocrats across the world. No, she hesitated out of precaution, because of the only concern that was the other person that lived in the flat. The doctor. Dr Watson. An army doctor and she supposed he had the quick and attentive senses to danger thereafter. She didn't see it as a problem though. More like an obstacle that would make the challenge even more exciting, and the reward even sweeter to taste.

With a precise movement of the small pin she had pulled from her hair, the lock gave away and the small window opened. Quietly, skilfully, like the viper she was, she crawled into the room on 221B Baker Street. The darkness had fallen now begun to fall outside, making her entrance protected by the increasing lack of light. The woman closed the window silently behind her and she stood motionless with the back against it for many moments, listening to the different sounds that echoed in the flat and took in the environment. The room was plainly but eccentrically furnished with a large closet just to her right and a bookshelf with various smaller items that was placed by the wall vis-à-vis the bed in the middle. The imagery on the walls caught her genuine interest. Right by the main door to her left hung a large board of the periodic table and down by the bookshelf another older version of it, now accompanied with a picture of its Russian 19th century creator. Hmm… A chemist, just like she had heard, and clearly a dedicated one. What she found the most interesting though was the traditional judo certificate right over the bed. Oh, I see were you got that fighting spirit. Good. I do like some resistance...

A sudden louder noise made the woman freeze momentary and look towards the door. The corner of her mouth twitched as she listened to the sound of an unaware person moving in the other rooms in the flat. Oh, the doctor... The honourable Dr Watson. As she had expected by what she had learned about him, he had indeed been very loyal. Almost touchingly loyal. Even protective. Oh, yes, he was indeed protective she could tell. More that he probably realised himself.

The woman smirked. Oh, if he knew. She almost wanted him to know that she was here right now and what she would like to do with the man in the bed that she now had set eyes on and approached slowly, feeling the sense of power rise within her. Oh, this... This was what she lived for. The pleasure in the power of knowing that she had them completely in her grasp. This was an opportunity that practically had been served in front of her, an opportunity that she would never pass on. She had won the first round. Now she was going to collect her price...

AUTHOR'S SECOND NOTE

You know, I seem to be one of the few diehard fans who have always loved the Woman. I understood why the depiction of her was criticised as sexist but I also loved the way she contrasted with her burning sexuality in comparison to her opponent. With this story, I admit that my relationship to her has become a bit more complicated, even if this is my own creation. Not because I hate her but because I liked writing this more than I probably should. Really, if you want to mess up yourself, write from the Woman's perspective and dig deep into her mind.

So, what is she going to do now and what did you think in general about the opening chapter to this, my first "dirty" fic? Let me know in the comments and please Follow & Favourite if you liked this story (or didn't and is just curious about what is going to happen). I want to tell you directly that I have one other chapter almost done now but still have some more writing to do on the other two. Thank you!