fic: Tagged
Title: Tagged
Writer: fanbot
Rated: R Adult
Words: 835 - complete
John/Sherlock
Warnings - Graphic sex, non-physical dom/sub, military kink
This started out as a drabble. I guess 100 words wasn’t enough for my muse. I don’t have any military experience, and certainly not English military. I have just seen lots of films. Just for fun.
John did as Sherlock asked. He always did. Sometimes, like this evening, the results were spectacular.
His lean lover had asked John to sleep dressed as he did while in the army. He obediently pulled out the faded boxers and t-shirt from the back of the drawer.
It was the sixth day of sleeping every night as he once had that Sherlock burst into his room in the middle of the night. Sherlock had barked at him, calling “private” Watson out of a sound sleep to stand at automatic attention at the foot of his bed.
The only light came in through the open door from the hall.
“Where are your tags, private?”
John’s hand automatically went to his chest, even though he’d not worn them in a very long time.
“I don’t know, sir,” he replied crisply.
Sherlock held up a chain with two metal tags dangling from it. “I found these and they have your ID on them.” He placed them over John’s neck. Some part of John’s mind wanted to protest that his were safe in the box under his bed, and that these did not sound like real tags. Their weight was wrong against his chest.
All this went out of his mind when Sherlock continued to stand close. When he spoke his voice was a threatening purr. “You do know the importance of having your ID at all times, don’t you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Was that one of the first things they taught you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Another lesson was to obey your superiors.”
“Yes, sir.”
“About face!” Sherlock snapped and John automatically obeyed.
Sherlock stood behind him closer than he would be comfortable with anyone else being there. “I think you need to re-earn those tags, private. Are you willing?”
John’s pulse quickened. “Yes, sir.”
Sherlock took a step back. “Bend over and grab the railing, Watson.”
He did and was rewarded with the sound of Sherlock undoing his belt and fly followed by sounds of flesh slipping on flesh. He twisted, trying to catch a glimpse.
“Eyes front, head down!” Sherlock barked and was obeyed. “I feared I would have to take it to the next step.” Sherlock grabbed the bottoms of John’s shorts and snatched them downwards, then pushed John’s t-shirt up to bunch it on his back.
Cool air hit his very exposed skin, he heard the plastic click of the lube bottle flip top, and the sounds of wet flesh being stroked. Some ten minutes passed. John squeezed his eyes shut and heard Sherlock’s breathing, the rustle of his clothes. He could feel the dog tags around his neck vibrating with his heartbeat. The soft sounds of Sherlock’s motions provided John with mental images that made his cock throb.
When Sherlock gave a little moan, he could not help but try to look again.
“Head down!” Sherlock wasn’t that distracted after all. “I had hoped to let you off lightly, but you leave me no choice.”
John heard the lube bottle again and bent over further, wanting Sherlock’s touch. Instead of his lover’s long fingers on his ass, soothing and opening him, John felt the blunt head of Sherlock’s cock against his opening.
“You want this?” Sherlock asked, his voice betraying how much he wanted it himself.
“Yes, sir.”
“Then take it. I know it’s not beyond your ability.” He pressed forward slightly, then froze. “Keep your hands where they are.”
It took John’s fogged brain a couple of seconds to grasp what Sherlock asked of him. “I’ll try my best…sir.”
John let out a breath and relaxed. Normally part of their sex was being stretched, readied, but he could easily bring to mind where hurried couplings occurred with little such. He pushed slowly backwards.
When they made love they were typically twined about one another, touching in every possible way. This time there were scant centimeters of flesh in contact in the most intimate way possible.
Neither one noticed when the role play was dropped and Sherlock started murmuring encouragement and endearments in a low rumble. He aimed his stiff cock but otherwise made John take it in at his own pace.
John paused at that equilibrium point beyond which he knew would be the delicious pleasure/pain of his body taking in the girth of Sherlock. “I love you,” he gasped and pressed backwards.
Sherlock heard John’s words and felt himself slide effortlessly in all the way. They stood joined that way for a handful of heartbeats as John’s body spasmed, adjusting to Sherlock’s thickness. Sherlock waited until John let out a satisfied breath before he folded his tall body over his lover.
He wrapped his arms around the man beneath him. “I love you, too,” he breathed in his ear and started moving.
Both men lost themselves in the rhythm and familiar pleasure of one another.
I was only after John was drying himself off after a quick shower that he thought to look at the dog tags around his neck. They were the cheap ones tourists could have made for a couple of pounds.
These said “Sherlock’s Bitch.”
John laughed and started to think about what Sherlock’s pair should say.
Writer: fanbot
Rated: R Adult
Words: 835 - complete
John/Sherlock
Warnings - Graphic sex, non-physical dom/sub, military kink
This started out as a drabble. I guess 100 words wasn’t enough for my muse. I don’t have any military experience, and certainly not English military. I have just seen lots of films. Just for fun.
John did as Sherlock asked. He always did. Sometimes, like this evening, the results were spectacular.
His lean lover had asked John to sleep dressed as he did while in the army. He obediently pulled out the faded boxers and t-shirt from the back of the drawer.
It was the sixth day of sleeping every night as he once had that Sherlock burst into his room in the middle of the night. Sherlock had barked at him, calling “private” Watson out of a sound sleep to stand at automatic attention at the foot of his bed.
The only light came in through the open door from the hall.
“Where are your tags, private?”
John’s hand automatically went to his chest, even though he’d not worn them in a very long time.
“I don’t know, sir,” he replied crisply.
Sherlock held up a chain with two metal tags dangling from it. “I found these and they have your ID on them.” He placed them over John’s neck. Some part of John’s mind wanted to protest that his were safe in the box under his bed, and that these did not sound like real tags. Their weight was wrong against his chest.
All this went out of his mind when Sherlock continued to stand close. When he spoke his voice was a threatening purr. “You do know the importance of having your ID at all times, don’t you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Was that one of the first things they taught you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Another lesson was to obey your superiors.”
“Yes, sir.”
“About face!” Sherlock snapped and John automatically obeyed.
Sherlock stood behind him closer than he would be comfortable with anyone else being there. “I think you need to re-earn those tags, private. Are you willing?”
John’s pulse quickened. “Yes, sir.”
Sherlock took a step back. “Bend over and grab the railing, Watson.”
He did and was rewarded with the sound of Sherlock undoing his belt and fly followed by sounds of flesh slipping on flesh. He twisted, trying to catch a glimpse.
“Eyes front, head down!” Sherlock barked and was obeyed. “I feared I would have to take it to the next step.” Sherlock grabbed the bottoms of John’s shorts and snatched them downwards, then pushed John’s t-shirt up to bunch it on his back.
Cool air hit his very exposed skin, he heard the plastic click of the lube bottle flip top, and the sounds of wet flesh being stroked. Some ten minutes passed. John squeezed his eyes shut and heard Sherlock’s breathing, the rustle of his clothes. He could feel the dog tags around his neck vibrating with his heartbeat. The soft sounds of Sherlock’s motions provided John with mental images that made his cock throb.
When Sherlock gave a little moan, he could not help but try to look again.
“Head down!” Sherlock wasn’t that distracted after all. “I had hoped to let you off lightly, but you leave me no choice.”
John heard the lube bottle again and bent over further, wanting Sherlock’s touch. Instead of his lover’s long fingers on his ass, soothing and opening him, John felt the blunt head of Sherlock’s cock against his opening.
“You want this?” Sherlock asked, his voice betraying how much he wanted it himself.
“Yes, sir.”
“Then take it. I know it’s not beyond your ability.” He pressed forward slightly, then froze. “Keep your hands where they are.”
It took John’s fogged brain a couple of seconds to grasp what Sherlock asked of him. “I’ll try my best…sir.”
John let out a breath and relaxed. Normally part of their sex was being stretched, readied, but he could easily bring to mind where hurried couplings occurred with little such. He pushed slowly backwards.
When they made love they were typically twined about one another, touching in every possible way. This time there were scant centimeters of flesh in contact in the most intimate way possible.
Neither one noticed when the role play was dropped and Sherlock started murmuring encouragement and endearments in a low rumble. He aimed his stiff cock but otherwise made John take it in at his own pace.
John paused at that equilibrium point beyond which he knew would be the delicious pleasure/pain of his body taking in the girth of Sherlock. “I love you,” he gasped and pressed backwards.
Sherlock heard John’s words and felt himself slide effortlessly in all the way. They stood joined that way for a handful of heartbeats as John’s body spasmed, adjusting to Sherlock’s thickness. Sherlock waited until John let out a satisfied breath before he folded his tall body over his lover.
He wrapped his arms around the man beneath him. “I love you, too,” he breathed in his ear and started moving.
Both men lost themselves in the rhythm and familiar pleasure of one another.
I was only after John was drying himself off after a quick shower that he thought to look at the dog tags around his neck. They were the cheap ones tourists could have made for a couple of pounds.
These said “Sherlock’s Bitch.”
John laughed and started to think about what Sherlock’s pair should say.