Chapter 2
When John woke up, there was no light coming in from the windows in Sherlock's bedroom. This was odd, since the sun had only just begun to set as he grabbed his leather jacket earlier. He wasn't immediately cognizant of this fact though, because there was a more pressing matter attracting his attention. Namely, that John was tied to Sherlock's bed. Naked. Spreadeagle. Utterly befuddled, John squirmed around, looking for his maniacal flatmate. He was nowhere to be found, but John did see a note propped on the bedside table.
"John.
I'm just in the next room. Don't bother struggling."
-S.H.
It was then that John noticed a slight niggling sensation near the base of his spine and...Oh dear God. So that's what Sherlock got in the mail today; a vibrator. Johns first impulse was to thrash around a bit more, trying to see if he could wriggle his way out of his bonds. Sadly, much like anything else Sherlock invested time in, the knots were meticulous. He had no hopes of getting free before the detective wanted him to. So John then settled on a new tactic; If Sherlock was going to pretend John didn't exist, John could pretend there was no Sherlock. Relaxing the best he could, John began counting backwards from one thousand, hoping to get back to sleep.
By 976, John's back began to ache.
By 663, John's nose began to itch.
By 507, John started feeling restless, the vibrator becoming impossible to ignore
"Sherlock!"
No answer. Typical. John was irritated when Sherlock "forbade" John from going out to see Patrick. He was bewildered and annoyed when Sherlock tackled him to the ground, but now that John realized he wasn't get out until Sherlock let him go, he was furious. Even more maddening was the notion that all John had to do was use the safeword and the detective would let him go with nothing more than a smirk. Maybe he could think of a passable excuse for his tardiness and meet Patrick...
"God damnit, Sherlock! Get in here and untie me..!" Sherlock was leaning against the doorframe. How long had he been there?
"John." the man gloated down at him "Resting peacefully, are we?"
"No, I bloody well am not, you bastard. What's the idea?"
"Idea?" Sherlock stepped casually into the room, eyes drifting over the various curios on his dresser. "You're naked, tied to my bed,..." Here Sherlock runs a finger lightly up one of John's legs and leans in. "...and hooked up to a vibrator. I think the 'idea' is fairly clear."
Despite himself, John blushes. Thankfully, he still has mastery over his voice. "Sherlock..."
Sherlock straightens up, spinning gracefully on one heel, he turns and takes a slim rectangle from his pocket. "You still don't get it, John. Shall I make it clearer for you?" He holds out his hand so John can inspect what he's holding before walking toward the door. He turns once more and presses a button on the remote. John gasps as the vibrator kicks into life, the pressure so intense it's nearly painful.
"You are not in control. I am. Now let me explain what I'm going to do to you..."
Oh snap! Another cliffhanger. What happens next?
Stay tuned, gentle reader!