Chapter Text
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A sleek, black sedan pulled into an anonymous garage in the seedy side of London. Anyone would suspect nothing of what was going on there, and if they wanted to survive they’d go on being blissfully ignorant. Several cars followed it in a motorcade. It wasn’t the first curiosity to happen in that part of town and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. The sedan drove up to men already standing before several equally black, sleek SUVs that stood in the darkness just beyond the single overhead light in the garage. The sedans pulled up into the shadow surrounding the light. They came to a halt, and security agents poured out from the cars and proceeded to secure the area. A lone figure stood in the beam of the light unshaken by the number of well-armed, well-muscled agents pouring from the vehicles while the brutish men standing around his motorcade milled about in agitation, untrusting of the agents across from them. Nods were exchanged, indicated that the agents didn’t mind what they saw. A knock on the window of one of the sedans, a momentary beat of hesitation and the door opened. A distinguished figured using an umbrella both as a prop and a cane glided out from the car.
The man standing within the brightness of the single light watched, with a vaguely bored expression, as the man with the umbrella walked into the light as well, revealing himself to be taller than the sandy-haired man already waiting. They stood staring at each other while their body guards leered across the shadows. After some tense moments the two men approached and shook hands.
“Mr. Holmes. A pleasure to be of service to you as always. I’ve brought the product in the agreed upon condition, as requested.” The shorter man smirked, gesturing to his own vehicle behind him surrounded by his own motorcade.
“Thank you, Dr. Watson. I knew you could be relied upon to deliver to my satisfaction. I had no doubts. Unlike some of my own agents, you never disappoint.” Mycroft Holmes shared an equal smile with John Watson, even as some of Holmes’s security detail grew uneasy at his words.
Dr. Watson chuckled to himself. “I believe you will be satisfied, although that will entirely be based off of this sampling you asked for, and indeed, the sample itself.” John cast an angry brow towards the car behind him. “Though why you asked for this disobedient brat, I have no idea. He’s nowhere near ready for servicing clients of your caliber.” John scoffed at the idea of allowing a repeat client to sample the low quality of such a bitch that still had so much training to go through.
“I’d like to see him.” Mycroft tried to contain his concern for the product in question. It had been at least three months since he had seen it last. The only reason he could leave his treasured possession in the hands of someone such as Dr. Watson was because of his medical degree and the rather overwhelming evidence of his strong moral compass. He could be relied upon to return the product to Mycroft’s possession unharmed. “It was after all myself that sent it to you.” Mycroft smiled in understanding as Dr. Watson looked surprised and then recovered himself just as quickly.
“Of course, I do believe you’re entitled to see your product with all of the money you’ve spent on it.” John Watson smirked. It was all beginning to come together in John’s eye. It wasn’t the first time one of his clients tried to surreptitiously send objects of their attention to his care, though he wondered if ever he could convince clients to be open about it. If Mycroft wanted to check out the quality of his product then he would get to see its progress. With a sharp snap of his fingers, bodyguards twice John’s size came to attention and the backdoor of his SUV was opened. They watched bare feet come out of the car. Hesitant steps moved from around the door, and stopped just inside the intimidating barrier of the bodyguards. “SHERLOCK!” Watson’s voice echoed in the parking garage and would have startled Mycroft if he hadn’t had the training to avoid reacting to such displays of power. A figure came from the dark of the garage until it stepped into the bright light where Mycroft stood across from the doctor.
The submissive before them stood tall yet the carry of his shoulders and the concave stature gave the appearance of submission. Mycroft was amazed at the evidence of three long months under the guidance of Dr. Watson’s discipline. It was like a piece of artwork to see the bruises displayed upon the pale flesh in the light of the garage. The specimen before him looked to be carved out of marble. The bruises, blue underneath the skin, added to the effect. Mycroft watched Dr. Watson reach out with a hand to move the limbs and face to the best advantage. To be on display yet placed so the submissive could not meet Master nor client in the eye. Unlike John’s better trained bitches, he needed to be taught how to stand, to display his submission and his body to the best advantage. The body was moved and stayed in the position when the doctor’s hands moved away.
“Apparently his name is Holmes, so he says. Tried to convince me that there would be some all-powerful relative that would come rescue him from his supposed imprisonment. Though I doubt there’s any relation between you and this slut.” John pulled away, eyeing the bitch before him with a willowing, tired expression. Mycroft observed Dr. Watson put on a pair of bespoke handmade leather gloves, taking his time to situation them onto each finger and fasten them into place. Mycroft observed the broken creature watch the dominant man out of the corner of his eye. The anticipation of what the doctor would do put the beginnings of a blush on his cheeks. He was half eager, half afraid at what his trainer would do. This is sort of deference had Dr. Watson’s client greatly intrigued at what the Dominant could achieve in such a short amount of time.
“Oh, I assure you— loathe I am to admit it— there is a familial connection, a very close one in fact. He is my younger brother, Sherlock Holmes. I had him delivered to you as an indulgent pet project, if you will.” Mycroft looked to his brother wistfully. He had so wished he himself had the skillset required to tame his own brother. But alas, it wasn’t meant to be as he watched John Watson’s gaze bounce back and forth between Sherlock and himself.
“Interesting.” Watson gave a lift of an eyebrow and came to stand before the younger Holmes. “So that’s why he remains so docile.” He spoke almost to himself. “He thinks he’ll be leaving with his brother if he behaves. Yet he doesn’t even realize how he looks so willing to stay with me even with freedom in his own grasp.” John brought a hand up to the side of the man’s face and smirked with pride as Sherlock leaned into his Dominant’s touch while still eyeing his brother. Looking to see for his brother’s reaction, and almost preening if John was any judge. Mycroft observed the connection between the two that he doubted even Dr. Watson recognized.
“I’m hoping I can rely on your discretion in this matter.” Mycroft pulled John’s attention away with a stamp of his umbrella.
“That goes without saying, I’m sure.” John turned to Mycroft with an annoyed glance. His own security detail tightened their stance, Dr. Watson so hated to be interrupted when he was spending time with the Holmes slut. They all knew that. He gave so much time to Sherlock and the bitch’s training almost ignoring everything else to the point of creating contention among his other slaves.
“Thank you, Doctor. That is most comforting.” Mycroft smirked.
“So, you’re whom I have to thank for this special delivery.” John smiled upon the bitch as he patted the cheek under a heavy hand until it turned into a hard slap. The submissive pulled away with a surprised grunt of pain. His cheek was red, yet he returned his face into the good Doctor’s touch like a good slut, accepting both punishment and just as thirsty for more of the doctor’s affection.
“As I said. Your reputation among certain circles was all the encouragement I needed to send him your way.” Mycroft watched in satisfaction as Sherlock was completely submissive to Dr. Watson. He flushed as Dr. Watson ran his hands along his body, even grabbing at Sherlock’s cock despite being in front of a room full of men. Mycroft judged based off of the blush that was begging to grow he wasn’t objecting to being degraded in a room full of people at all.
“And you wrote the note?” John asked still giving Mycroft little heed at the unspoken conversation between Dominant and submissive.
“Yes again.” Mycroft confirmed. He had almost signed his name to it a thousand times before putting his plan to send Sherlock to Dr. Watson into action. His brother’s last drug binge had cemented Mycroft’s decision. His plan had almost failed until Sherlock’s need for drugs turned into his own Achilles’s heel. He watched Sherlock’s eyes become wet with the realization that there would be no getting out of this, that his own brother had put him in the hands of this very capable man before him that had somehow forced his body to submit to his will. Sherlock’s own transport had betrayed him. Now he craved the attention and touch of John Watson more than he even craved the release to be found at the bottle of his seven percent solution of cocaine.
“May I ask why you chose my services? You could have easily taken him to a specialist in these matters. You have the bank accounts for it, I’m sure. Why not someone with expert bitch trainers? Like Miss. Adler?” Dr. Watson would never shirk clients, but he would also advise to go to others in the industry he knew had better expertise than his own in specific areas. He would do such a job as he would be asked but would also prescribe the best curatives as any doctor would.
“I believed that it was your unique skills that would curb his… rebellion.” Mycroft gave the same disapproving eye he always gave his younger brother at the idea of all of his indulgent activities.
“And it has been a real delight breaking him in, don’t misunderstand me. But he was such a disobedient slag at the beginning, with a misbehaving cock to match.” John sneered, as Sherlock’s blush rose. “Not to mention the condition in which I found him. It took days just to make sure he was appropriately recovered and tested to begin his training.” Mycroft cleared his throat, glossing over those details. There wasn’t time to discuss the Dominant’s opinion upon the matter.
“And now?” Mycroft inquired. He was itching to see a display of Sherlock’s submission.
Watson slapped Sherlock across his sharp, cheekbones thrown into relief by the light. It was sudden and without provocation. A barely audible gasp escaped Sherlock’s lips. “Piss yourself.” John ordered, his strong commanding voice echoed off the cement walls around them. With a sigh, almost of pleasured relief peppered with the most delicious humiliation, Sherlock let loose a stream of pungent urine down his legs, and into a puddle on the cement at his feet. The blush on his razor-sharp cheekbones was even more apparent as the puddle grew, it deepened at a speed congruent with the width of the expanding piss stain on the floor. Watson held out a flippant hand in Sherlock’s direction while his security and Mycroft’s team snickered at the bitch’s disgrace. “See. I am sorry he is a bit out of it. I was forced to truss him up a bit before we came here. I wanted to strip him to show you, hence the gloves. Wouldn’t want to dirty my hands with this bitch’s mess.” John announced with an almost bored lilt to his voice. Sherlock whimpered at the shame that churned the arousal in his gut, which lead to a rush of piss in response before the steady stream petered off and the sound of the stream slowly died away until he was finished with a muffled groan of agonized embarrassment. With practiced impersonal movements, John turned and manipulated Sherlock into an acceptable position to put his nude body and ass on display for everyone. Watson turned him around so that everyone could get a view of his confinement, complete with cock cage, several vibrating eggs stuffed inside his hole and sealed with a large anal plug. The submissive could see as he was turned that all the men in the room eyed him, some even grabbing at their clothed cocks, but all of them laughing and jeering at his plight. Only once did John have to slap that pert ass, causing the lush cheeks to jiggle, as the groomed slave got off on the humiliation and almost couldn’t help the churn of his hips when the toys inside him grazed against his swollen prostate. “He just loves to be laughed at.” Watson explained with almost tired resignation. “Very typical. There’s hardly anything ordinary in this slut, until you start scratching the surface of what makes him an excited little slut. He’s the same as every ungrateful bitch I lay my hands on. Now you’re welcome to try him out if you’d like.” Mycroft’s hand itched upon where it gripped his umbrella, his knuckles almost turning white.
“Really?” Mycroft questioned in disbelief.
“Absolutely. Like we agreed, consider this our proposed sampling of the product. And please don’t be shy, do what you like with him.” John indicated with a proffered hand that Mycroft could do as he pleased. “Though I do ask that we keep his cock as it is now.” John gave the cock cage that incased Sherlock’s prick a shark-like grin. He reached out to caress the cage, even as Sherlock whined in agony at being touched even though his cock was encased in plastic. John allowed his fingers to graze at the bitch’s balls, that were red, almost purple and swollen. Sherlock shifted into the touch even as the Dominant moved his hand away. “I haven’t decided whether or not I would like him to come. I believe that will entirely depend on his behavior today.” John shrugged looking upon Sherlock, still in indecision about the sub.
“Wha—?!” Sherlock questioned in fear before a gloved hand slapped his cheek.
“Did I say you could speak bitch?!” John questioned Sherlock, unconcerned by the tears that rolled down his sharp cheekbones. “You have one concern and one concern only. That is to make yourself available to being stuffed by any and every cock here. Now do as your told!” John shouted, shoving his fist into Sherlock’s hair and making him lean forward, putting his ass on display until the bitch began to wiggle his ass to the men around him. He needed little encouragement to beg for someone to touch him, displaying his assets as he had been taught by John. John’s security detail all began to leer, and touch themselves. They had all sampled what Holmes the Younger had to offer. Mycroft’s security looked to Sherlock with uncertainty but there were those that could be persuaded to join in the amusement. Sherlock was a favorite among Dr. Watson’s staff, how rarely he was shared, and only then as a punishment. He couldn’t stand the touch of anyone else in Watson’s compound other than the Master himself.
“I don’t believe I shall this time. I think I would rather observe.” Mycroft suggested. There was nothing here in Sherlock’s behavior that he could not observe, instead of allowing his agents and John’s security to observe his proclivities. “Perhaps we could let both of our security details have some fun at his expense?” Mycroft suggested with a raise of his eyebrow. Several deep voices shouted in agreement, a few of them ended on a unanimous, greedy chuckle that bounced off the walls. Mycroft watched as Sherlock began to tremble as his fate was decided.
“Now that I believe could easily be arranged.” John smirked as his security began to unzip their pants. “My men haven’t had a taste in such a long time.” John laughed. “Your men could even get in on the action if they were so inclined.” John suggested as the same eager looks could be seen from Mycroft’s men as well.
“Of course.” Mycroft tilted his head, John nodded with a glad smirk to his own men and all of the them approached Sherlock, stepping into a circle around him. None of the men moved in to make a grab for him, allowing anticipation to harden their cocks and whet their appetites. Several men took out their cocks and they stroked themselves, practically drooling as Sherlock began to shake in earnest.
“Get on with it!” John commanded. His men were the ones to first lay a hand on him. While Mycroft’s agents preferred to watch, to see how far they could take it when they were finally allowed to touch him.
Sherlock made to get away from the hands reaching out to touch him, and with a punch to his face he stilled, allowing John’s men to finally touch him. One man tied his arms behind his back, wrists in one strong hand rendering him at the mercy of the touches that all at once turned his stomach and aroused him. He felt the heady breath of the man along his back, puffing warm air along his earlobe and making the submissive shudder.
“Yesss…” The man sighed, reaching out to take Sherlock by the hair. Even as Sherlock cried against the touch of one of these men, his ass ground into the hardened cock humping against the lush globes of his ass. He shoved Sherlock into the hood of one of the cars and pulled the plug out of the hole without hesitation. He proceeded without paying attention to the moans coming from Sherlock in protest at his touch. Everyone cheered as he shoved his way into the welcome heat of Sherlock’s gaping hole. “Fuck yes, nice and sloppy! God, I love the way you try to clench down like that.” The man groaned as he slapped Sherlock’s ass red while he humped into Sherlock’s willing flesh like a dog in heat. His repetitive motions shoved Sherlock into the car, pulling on his cock that rested in its cage. The jeers couldn’t overwhelm the din of men pulling at their cocks or the slap of the man’s hips into Sherlock’s ass only to be matched by the squelch of lube as it bubbled out of his hole. Sherlock moaned loudly, as the man yanked upon his hair harder the closer he came to his climax. Some men came around to where the car was rocking to see Sherlock’s face, beautifully flushed and tears dripping down his angular profile. The exquisite combination of anguish and agony, as Sherlock was forced to accept the pleasure, he didn’t want to be given drove the men in their carnal lusts, making them all at once rabid and dangerous. Their cheers, and insults at Sherlock’s expense grew to a fever pitch, and they all laughed as this seemed to only drive the submissive to excess of wild pleasure. All while he tried to fight his baser instincts. But his body betrayed him as it clamped down and welcomed the punishing thrusts of the cock inside him. It wasn’t long before that same cock flooded his hole as the man came with a roar. The man pulled away with a relieved sigh and Sherlock scrambled to get away before that same fist worked its way into his curls. “I’m not finished with you yet slut. Lick me clean, and while I cum down that pretty throat someone else can have at your little fuck hole.” The man barked a laugh as he forced Sherlock’s mouth onto his cock, sparing Sherlock nothing as the submissive gagged around the length before recovering himself and began to suck in earnest. Another man pulled on Sherlock’s hips and he positioned himself with little encouragement resigning himself to be fucked.
Mycroft was amazed as he watched Sherlock allowing himself to be pawed at with very little protest. The hand on his umbrella throbbed as it hardened its grip again, until his knuckles were white. He watched with barely restrained hunger as the man fucking his brother’s mouth would pull out and smack Sherlock in the face, and teased Sherlock with slapping his cock against the proffered tongue until Sherlock whined, begging for his throat to be fucked. The man would then indulge him until Sherlock was sucking with moans of delicious satisfaction then he would pull out of the throat to start the process all over again, just for the sport of hearing the submissive beg for it. He observed this repetitive process unfold, and in fact, Sherlock would suck even harder when the man fucking his ass would spank it until it was a viciously beautiful red, the imprint of a hand plainly visible. Mycroft watched Sherlock be gleefully skewered by both men while two more moved his hands to their cocks to wank them while they yanked, rubbed, and tweaked his nipples. Mycroft knew from deduction that this was where Sherlock was most sensitive, hence the tight shirts in expensive fabrics he wore. Mycroft watched this submission with surprise, his hands nervous as one gripped his cane and the other reached down to his handkerchief to wipe at the sweat beading upon his upper lip. He never could have realized that his own brother could submit to such debauchery so easily. He was most impressed.
“I know.” John’s voice came from just over his shoulder. “He is a beautiful thing to watch once he lets go and allows himself to be properly manhandled.” John laughed in pride, watching as Sherlock’s face was pulled off of the cock that was in his mouth and all three cocks in front of him came on his face, causing the one in his ass to come just after.
One man pulled him away from the others and used his strength to pull Sherlock up into his arms by his legs so that he faced out to the crowd of men, folded in half, and onto an exceptionally big cock that pushed into his ass, hitting his prostate head on in the position on which the cock entered him. Mycroft acknowledged that Sherlock must be familiar with this one as it tore into him. He observed Sherlock bearing down, trying to relax against the intrusion as the man whispered all amounts of things into Sherlock’s ears. He whimpered against the assault upon his senses even as he eased into the pounding he was about to receive. The men around him gleefully laughed as they watched his encased cock bounce and his balls throb with every thrust of the oversized cock. Sherlock was in agony as he could do nothing to fight the onslaught and was forced to take the punishing fucking. The shame quickly turned his moans of pain died off on a whimper as they all watched Sherlock relax fully and accept the last bit of cock. The man holding him up moaned and curse, as he began to use Sherlock as little more than a warm hole to be fucked and lifted Sherlock up and down on his cock as if the slighter man weighed nothing. John smirked watching Sherlock finally moan as he began to enjoy himself, the large cock inside him continually rubbing on his prostate, giving him pleasure even as he was denied the thrill of coming.
He looked to the elder brother and smirked, seeing the man’s reaction all over his body, even as he denied himself. John could appreciate the feeling. “Are you sure I can’t persuade you to join in? You’re missing out on all the fun. I know you’d enjoy it.” John suggested even as Mycroft’s hands tightened and released, itching to reach out and touch his brother like this even as he knew he wouldn’t.
“No thank you, I can see how well you’ve trained him from here.” Mycroft and John were pulled away from their conversation when Sherlock gave a loud cry, pulling an orgasm from the men bouncing him on his cock.
“Oh fuck, I think he just orgasmed but like a girl. That was fantastic.” The man groaned, heaving for breath, falling to the ground as his own orgasm made him weak in the knees. He pulled the submissive down with him, until they knelt on the ground. The man still warmed his cock inside Sherlock, still hard even though he just came. The oversized man pet at Sherlock’s skin, trying to calm the submissive as he would a rankled horse, as Sherlock’s muscles shook and he cried. He had been fighting the sensation for so long but there had been no way to escape the way the man’s large cock filled his walls to the limit.
“He wasn’t supposed to do that.” John muttered to himself, with a disappointed shake of his head. “Make him do that again! None of you are allowed to stop until you until you make him beg for mercy.” John commanded, redoubling the efforts of the men around Sherlock. They had him on his knees, leaving him at their mercy. The man still humped into his body, filling him even though his hole was over-sensitive and being rubbed raw. Sherlock moaned loudly until his head was pulled down onto another cock. “If he wants to act like such a greedy whore then we’re going to treat him like one, aren’t we?” John sneered, seething with anger. Sherlock wasn’t to cum without permission and the rest of the man, a last few of Mycroft’s men that didn’t think it right to do so, now joined in on the fun and could no longer deny the urge to fuck a willing hole. All the men around them cheered in agreement and all reached out and waited for a piece of this ass.
All the men had their share of Sherlock’s body. It wasn’t until he was wearing cum from almost every man and his asshole was filled to the brim and leaking cum, even though they still shoved their dicks in his hole, that at last the men began to tire. He had three more dry orgasms wrenched from his body. Several men fingered his prostate or massaged his perineum just to hear him wail from the pleasure that would build and build but go nowhere, nowhere until at last his vision whited out. His body so overwhelmed, so overcome with sensation that he had no choice but to orgasm even though his body was denied permission to ejaculate. He would come to, to find that another cock was inside him without his knowledge, the men fucking him with complete abandon, and giving no consequence to his own state. The cocks rubbed at his agitated prostate almost continually, making him sob with the continued over-stimulation as the feelings that brought about the orgasms would start all over again. He would cry, and the men fucking him and using his body with smirk and lick at the tears, tasting his fear and resignation to the pleasure. Each time he orgasmed, it lasted and took longer than the last. It was sweet torture, and yet he couldn’t see any of them, not even Mycroft, nothing and no one except John. He wasn’t even sure if John was watching him, but he acted with only John in his eyes.
“Ahem!” All the men stopped what they were doing and looked over to where their bosses were standing. “Shall I?” John asked looking to Mycroft waiting until the submissive’s brother nodded in confirmation. He signaled for the order, but his men hesitated, seeing how thrashed Sherlock’s body was already, completely covered in cum from head to toe. Yet still, his hips moved, begging for someone to stuff his greedy hole. Wouldn’t his Master be impressed? “Do it!!!” John shouted at the cheers of several men that were reaching out to have their final go at him. With their teamwork, they allowed Sherlock to ride one of their cocks, he moaned, needing no encouragement to lift his hips, whining against the cage that prevented him from achieving the hardness that wanted to grow. A hand at his back stilled him, and he moaned as fingers stretched his hole further. It was enjoyable for him to feel all the stimulation, the stretch, the fingers filling him further than anyone else up to this point, until he felt the blunt head of a cock against his hole just above the one already fucking him.
“No! No please! Nuh—!!” Sherlock’s mouth was silenced by another cock, while he was judiciously stuffed with two cocks at once, despite his protests. John worried they would finally break him beyond repair into nothing but a hole to be fucked, and not a slave to give pleasure. He’d seen it before, but he hoped this was just what it would take to break the slut’s rebellious spirit.
The cocks inside him worked in tandem, thrusting against each other and filling Sherlock to the brim. Even as they worked, Sherlock went completely limp. Sherlock’s mouth hung open and only sucked when told to, his head lolled with their rocking while he drooled. Only their bodies allowed him to stay upright, his vision darkened completely until he was all sensation. He didn’t exist anymore, only the pleasure did and they used his body gladly. John sighed in acknowledgment that he had finally reached subspace, and Mycroft could now see the beautiful submission John knew was there.
“Now you see.” John indicated pointing at Sherlock’s face, his eyes devoid of anything but pleasure. “This is what I wanted you to see. This is what I’m trying to achieve. He’s in subspace now. Completely at the mercy of anyone who would touch him.” John’s gaze Mycroft could almost excuse as loving. “Put into the wrong hands, and he could be thoroughly abused if kept in this state, but he could blossom under the right touch.” John explained.
“A touch like yours?” Mycroft questioned with a lift of a curious eyebrow, not taking his eyes off of the beautiful performance.
“If you would.” John smiled in recognition. He was far from finished with Sherlock yet. “Someone like Miss. Adler would share him with anyone willing to pay the right amount. But I wouldn’t give just anyone the chance to touch him. Seeing something like this in a submissive headspace is something special, and not often, if rarely, achieved. But make no mistake, he’s not just acting as a hole to be used, he’s submitting completely to those who would use him. That is a very different thing.” John was practically drooling at the sight. Once again, they were interrupted by the men finishing with Sherlock, coming in him and on him for the last time all at once. Several of them then pissed on him, using him like a human toilet. Sherlock gladly held his mouth open though they simply pissed on his body while he happily rubbed it over his skin with a serene smile. This is what would make John happy.
“Thanks bitch…. You have a nice night.” They jeered at him, all of the men backing away to return to their respective vehicles and some back to their piles of folded clothes to dress before backing off. None of them would touch the filthy bitch. They’d leave it up to their bosses to decide what to do with him now that he was all crusty and sticky.
Sherlock whimpered quietly to himself, still in his headspace, unseeing where he laid on the floor in the mess, unable to remain upright. He was barely aware that the men had stopped touching him as John approached. He recognized the touch of his master, even in headspace and keened loudly in appreciation, pushing into the gentle caress of the man’s fingers.
“Sherlock.” John cooed as he felt along Sherlock’s body for his condition. Nothing terrible and no permanent damage for which John was thankful. He had watched his men work, but he couldn’t have been so sure about Mycroft’s men. “Come on, slut, up on all fours.” John commanded quietly, spanking Sherlock’s ass repeatedly until he did as he was told. Sherlock shook as his muscles protested. But he tightened his limbs until he rose up into the position John wanted. Preening at John’s praise for his obeying. “Not completely up on all fours, rest down onto your elbows, with your ass out and high in the air like the bitch you are. Yessss, that’s what Master likes to see.” Sherlock let out a squawk of protest as he felt his Master’s gloved hands come around the cock cage. “I think you’ve earned the right to come. Don’t you think?” John asked, pulling out the key that was attached to the dog tags around his neck. Mycroft noticed, even at a distance that there was only one key on that very important chain. That was a very telling sign to the government official and all Mycroft needed to know.
“If Master thinks I have and it will please Master to see it, I am happy to have pleased Master.” Sherlock responded. John moved to unlock the cage, but Sherlock moved his body away.
“Sherlock!” John scolded. The submissive shrunk against his Master’s ire.
“Please, Master. Leave it on. If it would please you, Sir, please milk me instead.” John looked down in surprise, before his expression softened.
“Good boy, Sherlock.” John cooed. Finally, Sherlock and his cage were one. He would feel incomplete without it on, turning him into the full-fledged bitch he always wanted Sherlock to be.
“Don’t worry, Daddy will take care of you.” John assured as he petted Sherlock and went around to stuff two fingers into Sherlock right away. The sensation of being filled by his Master caused Sherlock to sigh in relief. Master would take care of him. He relaxed completely and allowed John to use precise touches, exactly where Sherlock needed to finally be able to drip cum from his cock onto the floor of the garage.
Sherlock moaned, as John stubbornly fingered Sherlock’s prostate over and over even as Sherlock’s hips began to shift impatiently, feeling the arousal churn inside of him and rise up. He whined impatiently as John never added to the stimulation or deviated from it but was persistent. “Master!” He wailed.
“Easy.” John soothed, reaching down to pinch Sherlock’s nipple. “Give it to me.” John encouraged. “I want to see you dripping.” John growled, as he watched Sherlock fall down even more forward until finally his cock gave up the milk inside it. They acted to the exclusion of all the other eyes watching them. It was rare to find such a connection and there was no noise from around them as the others stood in watch over the scene. Even as his cock spurted, John rubbed more to bring out more cum. He kept going, even as Sherlock whimpered in pained pleasure. Until Sherlock’s cock and balls were completely milked, and he had forced Sherlock into one final orgasm that was completely void of semen, did John stop, bringing Sherlock into his embrace before the man could collapse onto the ground into the mess underneath him.
John gestured to a guard that waiting for his instructions and gave the blanket he had waiting for Sherlock. He wrapped Sherlock up into the blanket as the man began to shiver, still heavily in headspace. He looked to Mycroft and the man nodded, allowing the Master to take his chosen submissive back to his home. He would continue to send payments that would start to be refused after a while. And he visited his brother from time to time, delighting in seeing his brother so well cared for and healthy, even as he came down his brother’s throat or, as he often was, seated his cock in his younger brother’s ass while the younger man gleefully bounced in his lap while his Master watched.
It was delightful to see Dr. John Watson be the making of his brother, making him into the perfect submissive cock slut. As Mycroft would sigh, coming deep inside his brother’s clenching hole, hearing the answering mewl of submission from the slut, it was truly a delight indeed.
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