The sight of Sherlock bending over the edge of a bed, the long and slender body only clad in oh-so-tight black pants, would be breathtaking for most people. For John Watson it was more than that. Though there was a wave of pure and almost brute arousal washing through him within the first seconds, it was followed immediately by a feeling of a completely different nature.
Living with Sherlock had earned him a special place in the detective's life for sure since there weren't too many people who would put up with loud violin playing at 3 in the morning, all existing kinds of mould spreading in the kitchen – some for experiments, some simply because both of them forgot to do the dishes – and the chances of being dragged out to solve a case of murder in the middle of the night.
John was willing to do so though and that made Sherlock trust him after all – trust him even so much, that the doctor was standing behind his now-more-than-flatmate, holding a cane in his hand, ready to hit.
There was no need to ask again whether Sherlock was really ready for this. John had got his answer a few minutes ago when Sherlock had entered his room with a look of submission in his stormy eyes.
The first hit was gentle, hardly more than a light pat on the buttocks. And yet it provoked a reaction stunning John to no end.
Sherlock was whimpering. The most composed and rational man in the world was made into a I begging, whimpering and submissive mess within a few seconds and by only one simple beating with a cane.
Now John's libido was definitely interested in the whole process, though the blond man was able to get his thoughts together for a final question.
"Before I really start with... this. Is there anything else I need to know?"
Sherlock hesitated. Giving John the ability to hurt him physically was one thing to do, but the access to his mind was another level.
"I won't be able to lie."
"So if I ask you something..."
"I will tell the truth. Feel free to use this information whichever way you want."
'This could get very interesting after all', John thought to himself before hitting Sherlock the second time, this blow being definitely harder and more serious.
Sherlock shoved some of the blanket into his own mouth to muffle the sound of his cries.
"No, don't do that. I need to hear you. And I might want to ask you something."
"Mhphfff... sorry."
The doctor took great care in choosing the right places to hit. So far he only went for the fleshiest parts of Sherlock's thighs, right on and below his butt. Well, if there was something you could call "fleshy" on the detective after all.
John knew that the skin would be far more sensitive the further he would hit towards the hollow of the knee of the inside of the thighs. A sadistic grin spread on his face, when he swung his cane down to the pale skin, just a few inches below that glorious arse.
"Fuck, John..."
"I would say I'm sorry I've hurt you – but I'm not a man of lies."
Without further warning a series of blows rained down onto Sherlock's skin. Some of them were lighter, just to give him a chance to catch his breath, others were serious and made him cry out loud in pain and pleasure at the same time.
John realized that Sherlock had given him quite a special cane. It was very light, probably hollow, so he could swing it with more force than a real one. Thinking of it, the cane would be quite useless to put weight on; in fact it was more than some kind of sextoy.
That bastard. Sherlock had really given him a sextoy as a present. There had to be some punishment for this kind of behaviour.
"Where did you buy the cane?"
"Excuse me?"
THUD. The blow was the hardest one so far, almost breaking Sherlock's skin.
"I asked you a question. The cane. Where did you buy it?"
"A small shop. Irene Adler gave me the address."
"Good boy."
With his free hand, John caressed softly the red streaks and spots on Sherlock's backside. They would be visible for days, John knew that and his cock definitely approved the thought of marking the territory he later would claim completely.
"What did you think of when you bought it?", John asked, his fingers running along the seam of the black pants.
"How it would feel when you would use it on me."
"Did that thought make you hard?"
"Yes."
"Take off your pants. Now."
Sherlock did as he was told and was back kneeling on the bed without losing too much time.
The sight of the now fully exposed butt with the still so tight hole made John's mouth go dry.
Still he found his composure again and went on with the caning, making a point of decorating the buttocks just as much with red marks as the thighs.
Bobbing in time with the hits was Sherlock's hard cock. John had to admit he thought of it to be bigger but it was actually a nice surprise to see it wasn't too huge and would probably fit nicely into his ass and mouth.
Which brought another question to his mind.
"Are you a virgin?"
"No."
"Mycroft?"
"WHAT? No. Sebastian Wilkes."
"In university?"
"Yes."
"Any other experience?"
"No."
At this point John discovered a new kink about himself. He actually liked the idea of being only the second person in Sherlock's life the detective would get intimate with. And the first one who would combine spanking and sex.
"John?"
"Yes?"
"Turn the handle."
Sherlock's voice was low. Barely audible over his rough breathing and John had to strain to get the words right.
"The door handle?"
"No. The cane. Just twist it at the the silver band with the engraving."
A very confused John stared at the cane he was holding. Still he did was Sherlock told him and was surprised to see the cane was divisible into two parts. Yet one part was definitely more interesting than the other one.
There was a dildo. Linked to the handle was a fucking black and long dildo, which was concealed by the other half of the cane the whole time. Sure, it wasn't too thick, it had to fit into the cane after all, but it had a nice curvy shape and would definitely do it's job.
"You...", began John.
"Yes, I have planned this. Yes, when I said 'use it on me', I meant this part as well."
"You... little... slut."
"I am. And just like the engraving says, I'm all yours. I'm your property."
All hints of softness vanished from John's voice.
"Oh, I will show you what it means to be my property."