Sorry, again this has taken too long to get out. I've been ill and not really into writing sexytimes this week, but things are looking up.
Getting into kink here. You've been warned.
Thank you to my beta NaughtyKnitter. Any mistakes here are mine alone.
Sorry, again this has taken too long to get out. I've been ill and not really into writing sexytimes this week, but things are looking up.
Getting into kink here. You've been warned.
Thank you to my beta NaughtyKnitter. Any mistakes here are mine alone.
Chapter 10 - Punishment.
Sarah smiled cheerfully as John bounced through the door of the surgery that day.
"Hmmm.. You seem happy." she said, shooting him a secret look. John felt himself blush a little as the image of Sherlock forcing the prostate massager up his beautiful arse the night before flashed before his eyes. The very prostate massager that Sarah had given him only hours before that. The dull ache inside him seemed to thrum a little more as if to deliberately embarrass him further. John dropped his eyes, shyness overtaking him and pretended to busy himself with hanging up his coat.
"Morning Sarah." he murmured. Sarah tilted her head. She chuckled a little and then made her way around the reception desk and out the door to stand by John.
"Um.. John.. I know this will probably make you blush even more than you already are.." she said quietly and kindly "but I feel its only fair to tell you that the shirt you're wearing is not quite covering up the amazing 'bruise' you have on your lower neck." Johns hand went straight to his neck and he groaned, his head falling against the coat tree in the reception with a undisguised bump. Damn Sherlock. He would make him pay for this one.
"I'm assuming that all is well in heaven then John?" Sarah smiled and touched his shoulder gently. John heaved a sigh of resignation.
"It would appear so and any attempt to deny that is pointless now.. Damn him, why didn't he tell me?" John raised his head to look at Sarah. She had a barely disguised smile on her face, but it was friendly and slightly sympathetic. John had a good idea why Sherlock hadn't noticed the love-bite this morning, it may have had something to do with the detectives glazed expression and Johns promises of places they would fuck later, but he would pay none-the-less for putting it there in the first place. He shook his head despairingly. "I'll have to go home again Sarah.. I'll change my shirt.. or something.." Sarah raised an eyebrow and then took hold of Johns arm.
"Come on John.. I have a plan. You don't have to go home.. unless you just want to beat a certain detective friend of yours for something I don't know anything about.." John had to grin then "..I can fix this John. Come on." John followed Sarah to her office and shut the door firmly behind him. Sarah took out her bag and began to produce concealer and foundation and various other make-up products.
"Oh Sarah. You're a genius." Sarah shot a grin Johns way and then instructed him to sit. She began dabbing on make up carefully.
"So I assume that you finally got over yourself then John?" she asked quietly. John glanced to her face in surprise.
"How do you mean?"
"I mean that you are in no way a straight man anymore John.. You finally got over the last hurdle and accepted yourself.. It's good John.. Being gay isn't.." John stilled Sarah's busy hands for a moment. He looked his ex straight in the eyes.
"I'm not gay Sarah." he said firmly. Sarah rolled her eyes and continued with her daubing of his neck.
"Yes John. Whatever you say John." She murmured sarcastically before drawing back. "There all done. Your non-gay bruise is all but gone." John stood and looked into the mirror above the sink. Sarah had done a brilliant job. He turned,
"Oh Sarah, thank you so much. I dunno.. he's a pain in the arse.. I mean seriously.." John then realized what he had just said and blushed a little. His arse throbbed in response. Sarah just laughed.
"I'm sure he is John.. and I really hope that you get over your need to be 'straight' because honestly John, you can't say that.." She sighed "Look it's fine, if you don't want anyone to know.. fine. I won't say a thing. But John I'm not stupid." John gazed at his pretty ex for a long moment. Then he spoke slowly.
"Sarah.. I'm not saying that. I am not gay, however I am with Sherlock now. But that doesn't make me gay, it just means that I like him. It wouldn't matter what skin he came wrapped in because it's him. It's just right and good and I was a fool not too see it ages ago." Sarah seemed to let out a breath she'd been holding for a long time. "Don't ever think Sarah that I didn't fancy you.. I did. We just were never meant to be because I'd already met my other half, my 'to be' I just hadn't seen it. I'm sorry that I didn't know because I could have spared you any trouble.. the bloody chinese mafia and uh.. everything else." Sarah's eyes met Johns and John could see a single tear fall. And then they were hugging. Sarah's head on Johns shoulder wetting his jumper.
"It's fine John. It's all fine. I knew from almost the first date I think. I'm sorry too for any shit I gave you. I'm sorry and I'm glad for you. F.. for you both." The two of them hugged for a long time and John realized that Sarah had needed this since their breakup. She needed the closure. Eventually the doctor whispered
"Do.. do you think that maybe.. maybe we're destined to be.. but to be best friends?" Sarah smiled against John and nodded gently.
Sherlock had spent most of the day driving himself insane. He paced the flat after John left, the thought of what his lover intended to do to him later torturing him. This just made his nagging erection worse, and the fact that he had been told not to touch himself made it impossible to not think about. After an hour of pacing and dramatically flopping about the sofa, the detective decided a shower would help. However, as soon as the needles of water touched him he realized this was not the case at all. He stared down at his own flesh, his fingers twitching agitatedly by his hips thinking of John's last words to him. Some moments later he threw himself out of the shower with a growl of frustration and dressed hastily. Eventually and grudgingly he had sent Lestrade a text. The detective inspector was pleased to hear from him and dragged him in to look at a body with what appeared to be suction cap marks all over it. It took Sherlock less than thirty seconds to work it out. It was far more likely to have been an accident and not a murder, as the man in the question had a fetish for pain. He had died from asphyxiation as proven by the slight marks around his neck from where the bottom of a mask would have fitted, as well as the marks on his nails where he had tried to pull a zipper on it. The marks on his body were "obviously" from a suction cup. He had been about to have sex with a woman who had obviously got scared and done a runner, probably his paid mistress. Lestrade looked slightly disturbed by his conclusions and Sherlock had to smirk. The detective had then hacked the poor man's email account and found that, indeed, he was seeing someone called "Mistress Emily", and left Lestrade to sort out the legwork.
He returned to the flat and laid on his bed with a sigh. The case had helped a little to ease his nagging need for John, but now that he was home his mind began working over the situation again.
Vengeance was first on his list. How dare John leave him like this? Sherlock thought he'd quite like to jump the doctor on his way in from work, get the handcuffs on him, tease him mercilessly until the doctor was begging for release, and then just leave him like that. That would be fair turn about. But then again part of him wanted John to fuck him in to oblivion tonight. He wanted to John to use that voice again, to tell him what to do, to subdue him and use him as he saw fit. Thesethoughts set Sherlock's groin throbbing with need again and his hands wandered towards it. But John's voice echoed in his head telling him no. Sherlock frowned. Why on earth would he take such notice, and why did the denial make him even more horny?
These thoughts were still busy in his head when Sherlock heard the door of the flat. He started, he actually started and sat up on his bed with a jerk. John. John was home.
John smiled as he entered the apparently empty flat. He had heard the faint movement in Sherlock's room and knew the detective was in fact in. He made his was silently through the half dark, stripping his coat from his body as he did so. He stopped by the detective's half closed door and listened. In the silence of the flat the doctor could just make out the sound of Sherlock's breathing. It had hitched. Part of John wanted to just eat and watch some crap TV, but he was mindful of his promise this morning. After all, Sherlock had probably been mulling it over most of the day. Then he heard Sherlock's voice, deep and dark and rich.
"John", it said, very quietly. John took hold of the door handle and pushed the door open. It was darker inside the detective's room, due to the curtains being closed, and it took the doctors eyes a moment to adjust. When they did, he saw Sherlock. He lay quietly on the bed, his head turned slightly in the direction of the doctor, his hands against his lips in thought. John didn't say a word but crossed to the bed swiftly, kicking the door shut firmly as he did so. He sat gently on the bed and looked down at his lover sternly.
"Were you good?" John asked in a low but commanding tone. Sherlock'seyes lit and met his, he nodded biting his lip a little. John kicked
his shoes off and slipped onto the bed beside his quiet lover. Sherlock's eyes met John's and the doctor could see hunger in them. Those eyes drifted to John's neck, the bite there still shining with muted colours. John saw the pride in Sherlocks eyes. Gently the doctor ran his fingers over Sherlock's shirt, his fingers catching at the buttons. He found a nipple and rubbed it very softly. Sherlock's eyes flickered and a sigh of a moan escaped his throat.
"Frustrated?" John asked. Sherlock bit his lip.
"What do you think?" he growled in response.
"Hmmm..." John murmured thoughtfully, his fingers traced the hardening nub of flesh beneath Sherlocks shirt a little more firmly. "And what do you want to do about that love?" Sherlock moved then. His hand gripped at the one caressing him and he jolted upright. Seconds later he was on John, sitting above him hands pinning him to the bed. Lowering his head Sherlock's mouth met John's with an animalistic fury. He bit at the doctor's tender bottom lip and ground his hips down furiously. John moaned and the detective growled into the kiss. Both men's mouths moved, tongues dueling.
'Oh no' John thought, this was not how things were supposed to go. Sherlocks mouth was dominating him, lulling him. Part of John wanted to just close his eyes and allow himself to be ravished but as Sherlocks mouth bit it's way down over his jaw to fix on his neck and begin sucking John remembered that morning. He remembered his embarrassment and his desire to punish his wayward detective. He also remembered the way Sherlock had bent to his will before he had left. Oh yes, John could get into that. Relaxing into Sherlocks grip John allowed himself to take on a submissive frame. He felt Sherlock relax a little as his lapped at his neck and John began to make little keening noises of defeat, wriggling his hips up breaking down Sherlock. As the detective drew back to look upon his handiwork John took his chance. Slipping his hands free with ease he gripped the detectives wrists firmly and rolled them over with a lightening quick movement. Sherlock had obviously not been expecting this because he blinked up in surprise for a second before struggling against John's hands and gripping legs.
"Oh no young man." John said sternly looking his lover straight in the eyes "You stay down. You have been a very bad boy and you haven't helped yourself with that display." Sherlock stopped struggling and gazed up at John uncomprehendingly. He blinked several times. John let go of one of Sherlocks wrists and bought it up to that confused face to caress gently. "This morning Sherlock Sarah saw the marks you left on me. You embarrassed me and now you've marked me again." the doctor explained tenderly but firmly. "I think you deserve to be punished for that." John felt Sherlocks already hard cock throbbed once beneath his beautifully tailored trousers. "I should take my belt of to you really..." John continued his voice dropping down an octave, his fingers catching a curl and twisting it thoughtfully. Sherlocks eyes grew wide mirroring his quickly dilating pupils. John leaned in and kissed the detective softly. "I think that idea excites you doesn't it?" the doctor murmured against that bow of a mouth. Sherlock whimpered against him, his body beginning to go limp a sure sign of submission. "Maybe sometime I will..." John continued "...but tonight love I'm going to punish you with my hand. The hand that strokes you so softly, that can bring you such ecstatic pleasure will show you it's other side. I'm going to spank that tight little arse of yours Sherlock. I'm going to make you wriggle and struggle. I'm going to turn that perfect white skin pink and then red and then..." Johns mouth moved close to Sherlocks ear "...then I'm going to pull those sore, hot cheeks apart and I'm going to fuck you into next week." Sherlock let put a low and over-sexed moan. His eyes closed against John's words as his body began tingling from head to toe. John let go of Sherlocks other wrist fairly certain that his lover was now suitably cowed and his climbed off him. Sherlock followed Johns movements with his eyes but made no move. John smiled.
"Come on then, get up love." Sherlock blinked again and then quickly followed to where John stood. "I want you to undress in here Sherlock" John continued, his voice now firm. "I'm going into the lounge and I want you join me in..." John took out his phone and fiddled with it for a moment. He dropped it on the bed and looked back up at Sherlock. "... join me when the alarm sounds." John made for the door then turned with a grin "And remember... No touching young man." Sherlock straightened his eyes flashing,
"Yes sir." that thick lustful voice snapped and the words hung like strands of honey in the air.
John grinned to himself as he left Sherlocks room and shut the door behind him. Ten minutes should be enough time for him to get ready and for Sherlock to remain pleasantly submissive. John cheerfully made his way to the kitchen and began boiling the kettle. Whistling happily to himself the doctor quickly grabbed some of the emergency candles that Mrs. Hudson always kept topping up and lit a few around the flat. He then got a cloth and a bowl of water and put it by his chair, John wasn't sure how far he was going to push tonight but he wanted to be prepared. Then, still whistling he made himself a cup of tea. Settling it and one of Sherlocks lighters on the coffee table John flipped the lock on the flat door and dimmed the lights. The flat looked cozy . Nipping into the kitchen to grab some biscuits John noticed the wooden spoon he used for cooking. With a smirk John grabbed it and made his way back to the lounge. Placing the spoon by the bowl he considered that he probably wouldn't use it but the army had taught him to 'always be prepared' for any eventuality. John removed his shirt lazily and then settled back in his chair flexing his fingers before reaching for his tea.
As the alarm sounded Sherlock jumped. He was sat on the edge of his bed bollocks naked and thrumming with anticipation. How was it that John knew exactly what buttons to push? He had undressed swiftly and had glanced down at his hard throbbing flesh. A little rebellion had sprung up then and his hand had wandered. His fist had gripped his cock and Sherlock had allowed himself a few quick strokes. His eyes had closed his had parted and he had murmured Johns name. It was that which had stopped him. His hand had dropped away and he had sat. He'd thought over John's words and the muscles in his arse had twitched slightly. John wanted to spank him. Sherlocks breathing had quickened at the thought. There was no denying that he liked it rough but this was different. This was regimented, disciplined pain.
Sherlock quickly grabbed Johns phone and turned of the shrieking alarm. He swallowed once and then turned to the door. He felt odd, it wasn't as if John hadn't seen him naked but this felt different. The detective felt nervous, exposed. Closing his eyes and taking a fortifying breath Sherlock squared his shoulders and took hold of the door handle. Opening the door Sherlock could smell almost instantly the scent of wax. John had put candles on. He looked into the lounge cautiously. John was sat, fully clothed, in his chair and was carefully dunking a biscuit into a cup of tea. The detectives eyes flicked around the room quickly. He noticed the bowl and the cloth and the spoon by the chair. He worked out what the spoon could be for and his sphincter tightened at the thought of the wood against his flesh, but the bowl and cloth... what were they for? Before he could make a deduction John called to him.
"Sherlock. Come on love. Come here and sit with me." Sherlock blushed. He felt even more naked now he saw that John was fully clothed. Quickly the detective moved from the door and moved quickly to where John sat. He stood before John, his head lowered in submission and shame. John was openly appraising him and Sherlock found that despite the fact that he felt utterly vulnerable his already hard cock was growing harder. John snapped his fingers suddenly and pointed at the ground. Sherlock blinked in utter bewilderment and then gave John an 'as if' look. John didn't say anything but raised both of his brows pointedly and again pointed at the ground. Sherlock felt his resolve weakening and swore to himself internally that he would get John back for all of this as he sank to his knees. Once he was there the detective found that actually it wasn't so bad. Yes, it was embarrassing to be knelt at his lovers feet, but it did mean he wasn't under Johns constant gaze and when John told him he was a 'good boy' Sherlock could feel himself glow beneath the praise.
John finished his tea in silence. His cock was throbbing beneath his jeans. The sight of Sherlock naked and willing and blushing was one of the finest sights John had ever beheld. He was fairly sure he was going to get a finer veiw fairly soon, but for now John was content. He had wanted to push Sherlock and see how far he could take him. Getting the detective to kneel beside him without one single word made Johns chest want to burst. And as they sat together in silence Sherlock suddenly rested his curly head on one of Johns knees and sighed sweetly. John smiled down and stroked his curls. Reaching over the detective his abandoned his teacup and with gently fingers lifted Sherlocks head so that their eyes could meet.
"I want to punish you love." John said softly "You know why don't you?" Sherlocks big eyes met Johns and his head nodded slightly.
"Yes Sir." he whispered, the title becoming a default phrase due to the situation. John smiled.
"I like it when you call me that pet." he said "I think for tonight that is what you should call me. Do you understand that?" Sherlock rolled his eyes.
"Of course I do Sir" came the slightly sarcastic reply.
"Right then." John smiled "Now, I don't want any cheek from you tonight, that being a prime example. So..." John leaned over and bought up the wooden spoon "I have an idea." Johns eyes twinkled. "I will forgive you the last answer as we had made no rules... but I think that from now on tonight every time you are sarcastic, give me lip or don't say 'sir' you get a stroke on your arse from this." Sherlock visibly trembled. John leaned forward his thumbs caressing Sherlocks high cheekbones. "You are okay with this aren't you Sherlock?" Johns eyes now showed concern and Sherlocks hands came up to cover the doctors. His eyes held Johns steadily.
"Yes John." Sherlocks voice betrayed his arousal "It is new John... But God yes I want it." the detective swallowed and then he gave a smirk "I want this 'Sir'" John pulled his hands away and grinned.
"That's your first stroke in the bag you sarcastic git." The doctor smiled "Now I think you should get that gorgeous arse over my knee."
"Yes..." the detective groaned "please Sir."