John stood in his bedroom after he had pulled out his old uniform; it was currently sitting on the bed, staring at him. It'd had been just over a month since Sherlock had asked to see him in it, and it had taken all this time for him even to pull it out, he wasn't that bothered by it if he was to be completely honest, it had just taken him all this time for him to work out what he was suppose to do with it.
He knew Sherlock was downstairs submerged in some peculiar case, he was beginning to lose focus on it, John could tell by how agitated he was, maybe it was the fact he hadn't had sex with John for almost over a week and less likely because he was actually struggling with it. Sighing contently to himself as he slipped off his jumper hoping Sherlock wouldn't notice he'd taken his riding crop the other day.
Sherlock cursed under his breath, he just couldn't find the vital link in the case, there had to be a link, he was sure of it, but he just couldn't see it. It bothered him highly.
Sherlock let out a frustrated sigh and buried his hands in his soft curls. He groaned again his hands tightening around his locks in utter frustration. Lestrade would be round soon and he hadn't made any process, he blamed it on John for introducing him to sex. He was so engrossed in his thoughts he didn't hear John approach him.
John was surprised; usually Sherlock didn't get like this over a case. He needed a break.
Slowly he approached Sherlock trying his best and using all his military training to be as quiet as possible. John had to admit there was a small thrill that came back when he put his uniform on. Except this thrill was a different one. Rather than facing the danger of death, he could barely contain his excitement of what he had planned for Sherlock.
Ever so gently John raised the riding crop and ran it along the back of Sherlock's neck; he let the cold leather bring Sherlock back to reality. The minute it had touched his neck, Sherlock had become fully alert, he stiffened noticeable in his chair.
"John?" His voice suddenly vulnerable.
"I told you, it's Captain."
John smiled to himself when he heard Sherlock breath intake sharply. He trailed the riding crop down Sherlock's back it, watching his back arch when he stopped just above the base of his back.
"Now, in front of the couch, on your knees" John instructed his voice stern but slightly playful.
Sherlock stood; he looked over his shoulder only to see John looking unimpressed. It was almost sinful, John look unimaginably sexy in uniform.
"Do that again, and you'll regret it. Eyes to the floor Sherlock, and before I forget, you will not speak unless I give you permission, understood?" John demanded
Sherlock flustered a moment, didn't John realise this was his darkest desire, even a genius need some time to come to terms with this.
"I said, understood?" The tone was harsh but the smirk he said it made chills run up Sherlock's spine.
Sherlock couldn't bring himself to speak so only nodded a yes to John whimpering ever so slightly.
"Push the coffee table out of the way, hands behind you"
Steadily, doing his best to avoid eye contact with John he pushed the coffee table out of the way and knelt down in front of the couch, holding his hands behind his back. The position he was in made him vulnerable. Very vulnerable. And it did nothing to help the fact his cock was straining hard against the silk boxers John had bought him.
His breath fluttered softly as John approached him, boots knocking heavily on the wooden floors. It took all self control that Sherlock had not to look up at John when he appeared in front of his, crotch at eye level.
Sherlock squeezed his eyes shut hoping to avoid temptation but there was no use, John smacked the riding crop down on Sherlock's hip, making him cry out sharply.
John pulled the crop up Sherlock's body, making sure that the path ended just below his chin. John added a little pressure and Sherlock's head titled up to look at him.
"You may not moan, and you may not come without my permission, clear?" John purred softly "Remember, red, everything stops"
"Captain..." Sherlock said softly
"That's an order, solider,"
The wink John gave him then made him shudder. Sherlock was trembling, ever so slightly. He had concluded it was down to sheer adrenalin and excitement.
"Unbutton your shirt. Now"
Without hesitation Sherlock obeyed, he unbuttoned the tight purple shirt and pulled it from his trousers. He wasn't paying any attention to anything other than John. The sound of his voice when he was acting as captain gave Sherlock the desperate need to rut against his boxers. They were becoming beyond tight. It was almost torture, but Sherlock was finding it somewhat pleasurable.
John tugged at the shirt pulling it down to reveal Sherlock's broad shoulders; even though he was thin his shoulders always looked strong. Sherlock's milky skin contrasted highly with the black shirt he was wearing, it made the fact Sherlock's skin was clear and free of any blemishes and freckles too noticeable.
Well, that was a lie; John new at the base of Sherlock's spine and also on the bridge of his nose was clustered of very light freckles. The smirk came to John easily; thank god Sherlock couldn't see it.
Sherlock was nervous, more so than normal. He wanted this, god did he want this but there was just that small silver of anticipation, it would creep in at the back of his mind and he would try to ignore it, but this time it was just too much.
"Relax your shoulders solider" John's voice was soft as he ran a hand into Sherlock curls,
"Yes Captain."
The soft tug at Sherlock curls to pull his head back; causing his back to arch just a little took away the feeling of nerves and replaced them with pure lust for John.
Sherlock could feel the cool leather along his shoulders, Johns grip on his hair never loosed but held him there in place, as if he was about to be punished. Sherlock let out a loud moan trying to imagine what this would be like if John were to punish him.
John let the crop fall down Sherlock's exposed spine until it met his shirt at his lower back. He smiled to himself, just a few more seconds of playful taunting and then he would have Sherlock screaming his name. Or trying not to, if he did he would be punished more.
John pulled the ridding crop back up and into the air, giving Sherlock's hair a soft tug as a warning. John raised the crop slightly.
One...two... John counted slowly in his head.
Three.
The crop came down onto Sherlock's shoulder.
Crack.
Sherlock let out a quite whimper biting down on his lips in all attempt to obey his captains orders. The pain that surged through his body was met with the powerful lust that came every time John was in uniform.
Crack
Crack
Crack
Three more had whips across Sherlock's shoulder made his head tilt back in excitement. He bit down on the inside of his cheek, his toes curling as his erection became more strained against the fabric of his boxers.
John continued the whipping, pausing now and again to let the pain cerep up slightly before starting again to deliver twice as much pleasure as before. He could tell Sherlock was close from the wet patch of precum that stained the front of his boxers and also by the fact that he had been reduced to a panting mess under Johns touch.
John stopped suddenly between blows and was sure he could hear Sherlock moan quietly in disappointment.
"Did I say you could moan solider?" John commanded.
"N-no sir"
"I'll let you off this time Holmes, but only this time."
"Thank you sir..."
He lent down to press his lips to Sherlock's temple as a reward but was stopped when the sound of footsteps could be heard pudding up the stairwell.
John froze momentarily as Lestrade bounded through the door.
He took one look at the pair and his mouth fell open.