[Probably would be a good idea to read the About page before interacting with Sherlock. AU Sherlock Holmes rp. Not Benedict Cumberbatch.
WARNING: This blog is extremely NSFW and will include bondage, D/s relations, blood, knives and guns and various other possible triggers. Offending posts will be tagged with TW or Trigger Warnings. Follow at your own risk.]
John gasped at the movement in him, it was wet and cold. But God, it felt amazing. He relaxed his body as Sherlock had taught him. Moaning gently, John arched his back to let himself stretch for his master, he waited for him; he knew that Sherlock of anyone knew what he was doing.
Sherlock took stretching him slow, thorough, making sure that none of it would hurt, and when he’d finally worked John up to three, he wetted his pet’s arse hole one last time and then stood, pushing down his trousers and pants and gathering spit on his hand to smear over his cock. Finally, he planted one hand against the back of the couch for balance, leaning down to kiss his pretty pet, and started to gently push into him, taking it slow.
He nodded. “Good girl.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Would you like to get dressed?”
Irene thought about it for a moment before asking “Would you like in my previous outfit or could I wear something more comfortable that’s yours?”
Sherlock walked to his closet to look through his clothes and then presented her with the longest shirt he owned. “I’m afraid I can’t offer you any knickers,” he chuckled.
To John, there was no one but his master that mattered. He did as he was told and generously sucked on the fingers that were on his lips. he knew what Sherlock was doing; he knew that he knew what he was doing and therefore placed all of his trust in Sherlock.
Sherlock grunted softly, the feeling of his pet sucking on his fingers too much to concentrate for a moment before he continued his licking. Only when he was sure, Sherlock reluctantly pulled his fingers from John’s mouth and rubbed them around his hole teasingly, before he pressed one finger in, tongue moving to ease the way.
“Yes Master,” she said, letting out a small moan at his tongue. He felt amazing on her and she truly had lost count of her orgasms, but assumed at least two. She knew if he worked on her longer, she would again.
Sherlock set to work, counting three for himself. After she’d clenched and panted her way through another, he pulled back a moment, eyeing her spread out and panting heavily across his sheets.
Irene noticed him taking a look at her when he was done. She was panting and gripping the sheets. She slowly sat up before whispering “Three, Daddy”
He nodded. “Good girl.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Would you like to get dressed?”
John had always enjoyed being rimmed, he enjoyed being tasted and spat on. He enjoyed Sherlock making him wet enough to not need lube. It would only hurt a little, but he trusted Sherlock enough to hold his legs in place, breathing out evenly, waiting for that glorious cock to abuse him.
Sherlock saw movement out of the corner of his eye and was aware that many of those who were watching were pleasuring themselves or had people on their knees pleasuring them, and not all of their audience was male. He started bobbing as he fucked his pet with his tongue, and he slid his hand up to press his fingers against John’s quivering bottom lip. “Suck, pet,” he ordered, and went back to the task at hand, eyes still on John’s face to make sure he did as he was told.
“Yes Master,” she said, letting out a small moan at his tongue. He felt amazing on her and she truly had lost count of her orgasms, but assumed at least two. She knew if he worked on her longer, she would again.
Sherlock set to work, counting three for himself. After she’d clenched and panted her way through another, he pulled back a moment, eyeing her spread out and panting heavily across his sheets.
- That our muses want breaks too.
- That real life comes before role-play.
- That sometimes, I’m in the mood to do a certain threads more then others.
- That I’m scattered brained, and human. So I might have misplaced our thread.
- That RP is a stress relief, not a…
Irene’s eyes went wide as he picked her up. She held on to him with a large blush before being dropped on the bed. As her legs slid open, her face turned to one of confusion. “Count what, Master?” she asked as she sat up a bit to watch and see what he was doing to her.
“Your orgasms, dove. Lay back,” he replied, voice rumbling against her skin, and slid his tongue over her, finding that he much enjoyed this more after a shower. He’d always been a very oral person.
Irene moved closer to him with a large smile. She let her hands hold on to his shoulders again before she whispered “Master, would you like me to dry you off before you dry my hair?”
“No,” he replied softly, shaking his head. “What I’d like,” he says as he slides his hands down over Irene’s arse, curling around the backs of her thighs to propel her up into his arms easily and carry her across the hall to his bedroom, “Is for you to keep count.” And with that, he dropped her onto the bed, uncaring if his sheets got wet from her hair or his, and dropped to his knees, where she proceeded to spread her legs and press his mouth against the apex of her thighs.
Irene smiled as she kissed her Master her back, her hands cautiously landing on his shoulders. She gently bit at his lip before whispering “Sorry,” and pulled away. Her hands went off of him immediately and held her breath for punishment.
Sherlock tilted her head up and kissed her again. “Hush. I like biting.”
“D-do you? Good,” Irene said with a nod before kissing him again, gently biting an pulling at his lip every so often and with caution.
He groaned softly, every bite and tug causing a similar noise to exit his mouth as they kissed.