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Misbehave	By : websurffer Category: Titles in the Public Domain > Sherlock Holmes > Slash > Slash Views: 6756 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work fiction, based on the Sherlock Holmes series by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

Chapter List
- 1-Misbehave
- 1
When ever Watson held him pinned to the wall or floor or even, on rare occasion, bed, Holmes could not deny the deep carnal pleasure there. Back before they had first acknowledged their mutual feelings for each other, Holmes had tried to find various rent boys or similarly minded men with whom he could indulge in this particular pass time.

He had been by in large completely unsuccessful.

There was an element of trust though, with Doctor John Watson, which had been lacking in all previous encounters. With Watson, Holmes knew he could throw all concerns for his life and mental well being truly at the other man’s feet and know that the power over him would not be abused.

A sharp nip of teeth at his throat broke Holmes from his thoughts. “Are you drifting, my dear?”

Holmes blinked slightly at the realization that he had indeed drifted off into contemplation. Normally he would have been horrified at the lack of control, but at the moment he just couldn’t find it within himself to care all that much.

“And there you go again, love.” Another nip, sharper this time, brought Holmes fully back to the moment.

He was presently secured in a spread eagle fashion to his wrought iron bed frame. A length of silk, just the color of Watson’s cobalt blue eyes, passed through his lips and was tied behind his head. He had said some rather smart remarks earlier and Watson had thought it a fitting punishment if his ability to speak was summarily removed from him. Other than his bonds and the silken gag, Holmes was entirely naked.

Watson was still mostly dressed. He’d removed cuffs and collar at some point and his linen shirt gaped open attractively, but beyond that he was still fully clothed. He was also, Holmes noted with sudden alarm, holding what appeared to be a riding crop. Holmes was fairly certain it was his riding crop, in fact, and he met Watson’s calm gaze with his own wide eyes.

“Ah, I see I have your full attention at last.” Watson stepped forward and gently ran the end of the crop over Holmes’s rapidly hardening cock. Holmes gave a full bodied shudder. “It seems to me, my dear chap, that you’ve been rather misbehaving lately. Throwing yourself into danger for Ms. Adler? Leaving me behind without any forewarning or knowledge of where you’ve gone off to? Tsk, tsk, tsk. Lucky for you I know just what a miscreant like you deserves.”

Holmes couldn’t help but whimper into the dampened silk and shift his hips slightly. The sharp sting of the crop striking the meaty flesh of his thigh made him gasp in surprise even as it quickly faded into a low burn. He hardened further and Watson seemed to be momentarily distracted by his flushed penis. The doctor gently slid back the foreskin to reveal the head and, leaning down, sucked it briefly into his mouth. Holmes’s head fell back and he released an audible groan as Watson lifted up again, releasing his cock with a wet pop of suction.

Chuckling at the reaction he’d caused, Watson wasted no time in getting back to business. Three quick smacks came swiftly on each thigh and the detective couldn’t help but buck against his restraints. Seeing the response, Watson altered his plan slightly and quickly released Holmes’s ankles before flipping him onto his stomach in an efficient movement.

Holmes cried out in both surprise and pleasure as his arousal finally found friction against the bed clothes. He felt the knot of his gag release and pushed the fabric from his mouth with his tongue.

“You will count, and you will not come. If you do come I can promise you the consequences will be severe. Do you understand?”

Holmes nodded shakily. It was a rare occasion that he upset Watson to the point of a humiliation such as this.

“I said, do you understand me?”

“Yes, doctor…” He barely recognized his own voice, shaky whisper that it was.

“Then we’ll begin.”

The detective tensed instinctively, but no immediate blow fell. Just as he began to relax though, as sharp swat landed across his buttocks. “One.” Another landed, slightly higher up and a touch more forceful. “Two.” Three more landed in quick succession across the backs of his thighs and he couldn’t help but arch into the bed with a moan. “Th-three, four, f-five…” With each blow Holmes could feel himself grow harder and closer to completion, “…Ten.” He almost lost his restraint as Watson paused and ran the cool leather end of the crop gently over his burning flesh. The whimper he released made Watson pause.

“Five more should do it, my dear fellow.”

The first strike set his already burning flesh aflame and he barely managed to stutter out the count at all. The next fell across his battered thighs and he couldn’t contain his cry, tears springing to his eyes. Holmes suddenly didn’t know if he’d be able to hold out for the remaining strikes. He counted the next two practically sobbing and the last hit broke his composure entirely.

The detective was barely aware of it as Watson placed the crop carefully on the side table and released his hands. He only noticed his sudden freedom when he was pulled into the doctor’s still clothed lap. He hiccupped slightly from his prone position, glad his raw buttocks were not being subjected to the mildly abrasive quality of Watson’s woolen trousers. The cool touch of lotion made him gasp and jerk slightly, before relaxing boneless once again, tears slowing and only sniffling slightly.

“My dear fellow…” Watson murmured above him, massaging in the soothing cream. “I do hope you’ve learnt your lesson this time.”

Holmes couldn’t voice an opinion as it seemed a veil of fog had crept over his mind. Normally a frantic place, his brain had simply ceased to operate. The doctor didn’t seem to mind his silence though, and after he finished rubbing in the lotion, he shifted Holmes to one side and quickly stood and stripped.

The detective truly felt as if there was no strength in his muscles to move. Watson carefully arranged him on his stomach, folding his arms gently beneath his head to pillow it and spreading his thighs. The first touch of a lotion coated finger to his entrance merely brought a slow shiver and a gentle release of any tension in his thighs. Holmes stared blankly off to the side as Watson gently prepared him and then thrust in.

Normally their couplings were fast paced and a touch frantic, the potential for discovery spurring them on. After a punishment though, Watson was always utterly tender and loving and this time was no exception. The slow withdrawal and return, the internal push and pull, lulled Holmes into an even more drowsy half-aware state. His pleasure quite snuck up on him and he came with a tiny little whimper as his eyes rolled back slightly into his head.

Watson was on his heels and panted against the back of his neck before dropping a light kiss there. He remained buried within Holmes, draped over his body, until he softened entirely and slipped out causing the detective to groan slightly. Watson wearily stood and retrieved a soft towel and water jug to clean both himself and his lover. Once his task was completed, he returned to the bed and slid in, pulling the duvet up over both of them from the corner it had been exiled to.

He pulled the unresponsive Holmes into his arms and tucked the slighter man up against his chest. He placed a gentle kiss, almost a benediction, against the detective’s forehead and whispered a final command before extinguishing the gas lamp, plunging them into darkness.

“Sleep now, love, sleep and remember I love you.”
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