Fill: Keeping Time (1/4)
anonymous
March 8 2011, 00:39:12 UTC
Mycroft's chair was facing away from the door. He didn't turn as Lestrade entered the room and crossed it to stand about eight feet from the desk.
Lestrade waited... and waited. The only sound in the room was the ticking of a small carriage clock on the mantelpiece and the occasional rustle of paper from the high backed executive office chair in front of him.
Just when Lestrade thought he'd go mad if he didn't clear his throat or something, Mycroft's voice suddenly cut through the tense atmosphere. "My message was quite clear. You were instructed to be here at seven p.m."
Shit... Lestrade bit his lip. A nasty murder in Hounslow had kept him late but Mycroft wouldn't be interested in hearing any excuses.
"What time is it, Lestrade?"
He glanced down at his wrist. "It's... seven oh nine, Mr. Holmes."
Mycroft made a small Tch of disapproval as he swivelled in his chair to face Lestrade. He was consulting his own fob watch. "It is in fact seven oh seven. That cheap piece of plastic you laughingly refer to as a watch is running fast
( ... )
Fill: Keeping Time (2/4)
anonymous
March 8 2011, 00:41:14 UTC
"Show me. Crawl over here and beg for it."
Lestrade shuffled awkwardly across the rich deep-pile carpet until he was only inches from Mycroft's feet.
"Look up."
Lestrade did as instructed. Mycroft was eyeing him with contempt.
"Do you have any idea of the number of smart young men within a hundred yards of this office I could have here instead of you? Well educated, Oxbridge graduates; nearly all of them from good families with healthy young complexions and lithe attractive bodies. They may find the idea abhorrent but they'd be happy for even the opportunity to get into my good books." He poked his toe into Lestrade's stomach. "But no, instead, I have a shop-worn, slightly saggy, middle-aged, former borstal brat from Bristol at my feet - whose only saving graces are an ability to mostly do as he's told and a frankly depraved predilection for being buggered and sucking cock
( ... )
Fill: Keeping Time (3/4)
anonymous
March 8 2011, 00:43:24 UTC
Lestrade reached in to Mycroft's underwear and carefully freed his erection. He took a brief moment just to enjoy his favourite view. He loved cock, always had done, no denying it, but this cock, this cock he worshipped"Today please, Lestrade. For such a cum-hungry whore, you're taking your own sweet time
( ... )
Fill: Keeping Time (4/4)
anonymous
March 8 2011, 00:47:17 UTC
(WARNING: gory murder description)
"I take it your day was as long and soul-destroying as mine, then?"
Lestrade looked up to find Mycroft offering him some tissues and a glass of water. He took the water, drained it in one and then started cleaning himself up. "Yeah. Young mum. Her dealer boyfriend sliced her up and left her body in the flat with her two year old kid. Hopefully the kid's too young to remember any of it but even so..."
Mycroft stood behind him and started massaging Lestrade's shoulder muscles. "No wonder you're so tense. I still don't quite understand why you find this scenario such a relief but you indulge my preferences so it is only fair I reciprocate."
"You whip my back, I'll come all over yours?" Lestrade chuckled.
"Something of that ilk."
Lestrade got to his feet. "Can I have my shirt back now?"
"Certainly not! I meant every word I said about that grotesque garment. I will have some new shirts delivered to you
( ... )
Re: Fill: Keeping Time (4/4)
anonymous
March 10 2011, 06:19:56 UTC
I'm reading this for the second time. This is so hot and sweet. Your character voices are really good. I can imagine Mycroft saying that dialogue so well.
Re: Fill: Keeping Time (4/4)
anonymous
March 13 2011, 23:07:41 UTC
Thanks for the comment! Humiliation!kink's a funny one if it's something your partner enjoys that you just don't get - I was really glad the OP asked for the after-fluff...
Lestrade waited... and waited. The only sound in the room was the ticking of a small carriage clock on the mantelpiece and the occasional rustle of paper from the high backed executive office chair in front of him.
Just when Lestrade thought he'd go mad if he didn't clear his throat or something, Mycroft's voice suddenly cut through the tense atmosphere. "My message was quite clear. You were instructed to be here at seven p.m."
Shit... Lestrade bit his lip. A nasty murder in Hounslow had kept him late but Mycroft wouldn't be interested in hearing any excuses.
"What time is it, Lestrade?"
He glanced down at his wrist. "It's... seven oh nine, Mr. Holmes."
Mycroft made a small Tch of disapproval as he swivelled in his chair to face Lestrade. He was consulting his own fob watch. "It is in fact seven oh seven. That cheap piece of plastic you laughingly refer to as a watch is running fast ( ... )
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Lestrade shuffled awkwardly across the rich deep-pile carpet until he was only inches from Mycroft's feet.
"Look up."
Lestrade did as instructed. Mycroft was eyeing him with contempt.
"Do you have any idea of the number of smart young men within a hundred yards of this office I could have here instead of you? Well educated, Oxbridge graduates; nearly all of them from good families with healthy young complexions and lithe attractive bodies. They may find the idea abhorrent but they'd be happy for even the opportunity to get into my good books." He poked his toe into Lestrade's stomach. "But no, instead, I have a shop-worn, slightly saggy, middle-aged, former borstal brat from Bristol at my feet - whose only saving graces are an ability to mostly do as he's told and a frankly depraved predilection for being buggered and sucking cock ( ... )
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"I take it your day was as long and soul-destroying as mine, then?"
Lestrade looked up to find Mycroft offering him some tissues and a glass of water. He took the water, drained it in one and then started cleaning himself up. "Yeah. Young mum. Her dealer boyfriend sliced her up and left her body in the flat with her two year old kid. Hopefully the kid's too young to remember any of it but even so..."
Mycroft stood behind him and started massaging Lestrade's shoulder muscles. "No wonder you're so tense. I still don't quite understand why you find this scenario such a relief but you indulge my preferences so it is only fair I reciprocate."
"You whip my back, I'll come all over yours?" Lestrade chuckled.
"Something of that ilk."
Lestrade got to his feet. "Can I have my shirt back now?"
"Certainly not! I meant every word I said about that grotesque garment. I will have some new shirts delivered to you ( ... )
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Thanks for letting me know you enjoyed it.
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