A/N: Don't own, as before.
The prompt was to write 221 words on Irene Adler before she became The Woman.
Irene was eighteen when she began to figure it out.
She liked to watch. Liked to make the boys do things. To each other.
There were two at university. One was tall, strapping, big hands, bearded, eyes like ice. The other was thin and small, dark-haired, troubled, sad. The tall one crackled like lightening among clouds, voice rumbling, hands prone to gripping things and squeezing. He bit her all over. She didn't like it much, but the bruises formed interesting patterns on her skin. She only let him do it once. His name was Zachariah.
The other was in love with him, too scared to say it. Followed Irene around instead, worshipped her. Asked her to walk all over him in her spiked heels, leaving footprints up and down his spine. She liked that. Saved up the money Father gave her for food – always too much, he and Mum thought she was too thin – and bought lacey things and leather things. Began walking on other people's backs, other men, grown men, who bought her clothing and perfume and higher and higher heels.
And then sometimes women came to her. Liked that a lot more. Liked to tie them up.
She never forgot Zachariah and the small boy, though. They had one night. At the end of if, she made them kiss.