consultingpiskies replied to your post: Prompts?
mmm, bound?
Here you go! I probably could have managed a couple thousand on this one once I started, but I like the discipline of a 221b. There’s a WHOLE LOT going on behind this one. 🙂 Thanks for the prompt!
“Sherlock, are you coming back anytime soon?” John asks, because his wrists are starting to chafe where they’re tied behind a kitchen chair, and the muscles in his legs are jumpy from being bound at the ankles. He shifts, spread-eagled, and tries to keep spiraling panic at bay.
Fuck Sherlock and his goddamned crime scene recreations anyway.
Fifteen minutes.
“Sherlock!” he yells. “You best not have left!”
Nothing, then a slow creak as the door swings fully open to reveal Sherlock shirtless, barefoot, riding crop in hand as he prowls across the sitting room, predatory and dark with his eyes locked on John’s face. John stops breathing.
Sherlock snaps the crop up to John’s mouth, barely touching his lip before he drags it down John’s chest, over his belt and right between this thighs, gooseflesh rising in its wake. Sherlock’s gaze doesn’t waver as he presses the crop against John’s cock.
“An experiment,” Sherlock says, and dear God his voice, sultry and seductive and like nothing John’s ever heard out of Sherlock’s mouth before. “How long can you stand it, to be left unfulfilled, before you go mad with it?”
Sherlock smirks and walks out. John shivers with desire, tamps down on the tendril of hysteria that threatens, and is left to wonder just how long Sherlock will leave him bound.
Oooooooooooooo, Maz. <3
If, um, you DID happen to want to add another couple thousand words to this, you know. I wouldn’t be complaining. ^_^
from Tumblr http://prettyarbitrary.tumblr.com/post/100791646917