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"On time as usual, Kitten."
Hearing Sherlock’s deep voice behind her had Molly’s heart jumping into her throat. He sounded husky, wanting, using his ‘in control’ voice, as if hearing her sweet pet name on his lips wasn’t enough to send a shiver down her spine.
She remembered the day she submitted to him for the first time. He’d been guiding her towards it for some time, as she’d been curious of the lifestyle already. He was a natural leader, and she… liked following him.
Most people didn’t, or perhaps even couldn’t, see past his callous exterior. However once you pushed his unfeeling façade, it was clear that he cared too much. It was what he considered his one flaw, but Molly found it profoundly beautiful.
She was pulled from her thoughts by a hand on her shoulder. He’d come up behind her, and the slight squeeze he gave meant he knew her mind had wandered from him. He could not abide a lack of focus while they were playing.
The flush crept into her cheeks at being caught.
Satisfied that her attentions were centered on him once more, he began to caress her shoulder gently with his thumb.
Molly was almost certain he could somehow hear how her pulse thrummed wildly at the simple gesture.
Slowly, Sherlock trailed his hand down her arm to capture her wrist. His other hand grabbed her other wrist, and he brought them together behind her back.
Molly didn’t fight him as he used an unseen cordage - it felt like a piece of the usual nylon rope they used to tie her wrists together. From her wrists he tied it upwards, using a series of intricate loops and knots to secure it all the way up to her elbows. She shifted slightly as she felt him secure the final knot and nodded in confirmation as he asked if she was comfortable.
"Good, Kitten." Another delicious shiver went down her spine. Sherlock once said that he called her that because she seemed so soft at first meeting, a closer look showed the nails perfectly suited for digging in and fighting back.
Of course, he’d also said that it was because ‘With the simplest caress, I can make you purr.’ Damn if that wasn’t true too.
The sudden swat he gave on her arse let her know that in thinking, she’d inadvertently ignored an order.
After a surprised squeak, she cleared her throat, the flush back with a vengeance. “Sorry Sir, what did you say?”
"I said, Kitten, what is your safeword?"
Right. They always made sure to reaffirm it before they began. Sherlock never continued until she said it. Sloppy mistake.
"Oh, of course… it’s arsenic, sir."
A popular poison, its symptoms intrigued Molly more than they probably should. Its perfection lay in how obvious it was, a contrast to their practices, where pain and pleasure mixed and the lines of what was too far and too much were sometimes blurred
She’d only safeworded twice, both times in the first month. Since then, while Sherlock prodded at her limitations, he’d never crossed that border between pleasurable pain and too much.
She liked that though, that he helped her expand her comfort zone. She didn’t feel the need to hide herself around him. He wouldn’t allow it anyway.
He made sure that she knew he could see her everything, and he made sure that she knew that he loved her in her entirety. Whether he was calling her his sweet little kitten and making her whine at a slow teasing build or whether he was pulling her hair roughly and calling her a dirty slut as she sucked him off, only being allowed the pleasure of pleasing him.
One such harsh tug pulled her again from her thoughts. She winced at the pain as he forced her to meet his eyes. “You’re distracted, Kitten. I don’t like it.” His tone was irritated. Clearly, she’d ignored something again.
She swallowed slightly. “Sorry, sir. I’ll be good, I promise.”
Sherlock tsked admonishingly. “Three times now. It seems the fun will have to be delayed.”
Molly didn’t dare ask or interrupt as he thought it over. A slight nod of his head meant he’d decided, and then he was pushing her forward into the bedroom and leaning her over until her chest touched the bed.
"Stay still,” he ordered, reaching around her and undoing her trousers, pushing them down to reveal black lace knickers. They didn’t stay long. After an appreciative glance, Sherlock slid those down her legs as well, and they fell with her trousers to lay pooled around her ankles.
Flushing, Molly wriggled a bit to loosen her shoulders, only to have his hand slapping her brusquely on her arse. She let out a small surprised yelp as she felt the sting spread, then a little whimper.
"What did you do wrong?"
Molly swallowed. “I ignored you three times, Sir.”
"Three times. You know how thin my patience is, Kitten."
"Yes Sir."
She heard him undoing his belt from his trousers. Oh God, she hated the belt.
She could picture in her mind how he held it, though she wasn’t allowed to turn around to confirm the vision that build in her head. he would put the ends together in his hand, so the metal buckle wouldn't accidentally hit her, but it would put more weight into the blows.
She felt a slight sweat build just thinking about it - as well as a wetness between her thighs, though she dared not shift again to ease it.
"Three offenses. Three strikes per offense. You will count them aloud and apologize. Is that understood?"
"Yes Sir."
"What’s your word, Kitten?"
"Arsenic."
The last syllable had scarcely left her lips before the first strike came, hard and leaving a painful stinging sensation across her arse in its wake.
She let out a hiss and then, “One. Sorry, Sir.”
The next came, slightly lower. It overlapped the first, and the area where they met made her want to cry.
As it was, she let out a yelp. “Two. Sorry Sir.”
After three, she felt her eyes watering.
At six, the tears had begun to flow. Sherlock was careful not to hit too low or too high, but her arse burned hot and agonizing.
At eight, her legs trembled and she didn’t want to stand anymore.
At nine, with a final gasped “Sorry Sir,” she buried her head into the comforter and sobbed.
It wasn’t just the punishment. Certainly, the belt had hurt – quite a lot - but it was also the knowledge that she’d disappointed Sir. She’d lost focus three times when she knew all he wanted was her full attention from start to finish. From the time she stepped through that door, she was his. Even when she left, she should always remember that he was there. He existed to help her, just as she helped him.
She heard him shuffling into his dresser and managed to calm herself down a bit as he returned to her. His tough countenance gentled.
"Onto the bed, Kitten," he said softly, his tone no longer scolding. He aided her still-bound form onto the bed, laying arse-up and belly-down for him to more easily look her over.
With gentle hands, he caressed the heated skin of her arse, the cool of his hands helping to numb a bit of the pain. She sniffled as few tears still managed to escape her.
She felt his hand leave her for a moment, only to return, rubbing in a soothing balm. She couldn’t help the relieved moan that escaped her. It felt so good.
Sherlock chuckled as she wiggled for more contact. When he finished rubbing in the balm, he used a clean towel he’d brought into the room previously to wipe the residue from his hands.
"Have you learned your lesson, Kitten?"
”Y-yes Sir,” She rubbed her face into the comforter to try to clean her face, a poor attempt that only caused Sherlock to chuckle again.
He help her sit up on her haunches. She winced as her ankles pressed into her arse, but she didn’t complain. Sherlock used a clean part of the towel to properly wipe away the tear tracks. He set the towel aside and cupped her cheeks.
"Are you ready to play properly now?"
She nodded gently in his hands. “Yes. Please, Sir.”
He grinned, content that he had her full attention - she certainly wouldn’t be slipping again.
He leaned forward and captured her lips. She parted for him easily, and he took control, nipping at her bottom lip before delving his tongue inside her pliant mouth. She gave everything she had to him and more. She always would.
She gasped slightly at the feeling of his fingers creeping up her shirt. If only he’d taken it off before tying her arms together. It hadn’t been her choice though, and honestly, as he shoved her bra up and his lips descended, who was she to complain?
He bit and sucked at her breasts. When one wasn’t being abused by his teeth as he tugged her nipple and sucked to leave bruising to dot around her dusky rose peaks, it was being tormented by his talented hand as he pinched and tweaked to hard tenderness. She writhed, moaned, and whined, unable to reach up and bury her hands in that hair. He kept her from tumbling over as she squirmed. She was safe in his arms until he was ready for her to fall.
He released her nipple with a pop, and shifted to the side before giving her a light push to topple her back onto her stomach. It wasn’t graceful, but it was raw and real. He tugged her hips up and pushed her knees apart before she could do more than whine for the loss of his lips on her tender skin.
Then he was gone for just an instant, only long enough to retrieve a familiar bar from under the bed.
He buckled her legs in place with the comfortable worn leather of the speader bar’s cuffs, keeping her ankles two feet apart so she was unable to close her legs to him.
She could feel a flush creeping under her skin as he caressed the backs of her thighs, no doubt examining the wetness that pooled between them, glistening on her thighs and at her center, just begging to be tasted.
Sherlock never was one for resisting a glistening cunt spread so deliciously for him.
He slid into the space the spreader bar made between her legs and feasted on her center. Licking first the juices from both of her thighs, so slowly that her legs shook as she whined.
When she began to slide forward, he gripped her hips to keep her in place. He could feel her quivering against his skin.
"Please, oh God, please Sir - ooh!" Molly moaned as Sherlock traced his tongue through her folds. His tongue dipped inside her cunt, tasting her from the source and sending a shiver through her entire body.
He then latched onto her clit, tracing circles and pressing in with his tongue as he sucked the engorged nub with talented, practiced motions made specially to drive her insane.
Molly was beyond words, fighting her desire to cum just so she could continue feeling his lips on her. The sensation was nearly as good as his cock inside her, stretching and filling her.
Another sharp moan was wrung from her as he took a hand from her thigh to press two fingers inside of her.
He knew her every dip and curve, her body laid out like a map in his mind. He used every way he knew to make her whimper and squeal and squirm until she couldn’t handle it anymore.
He continued to suck her clit, less teasing and more sheer determination to make her cum, and his fingers arched inside her, finding that glorious spot that had her shrieking his title as she came, clenching around his fingers and her juices practically dripping from her center.
He removed himself from between her legs and finally let her slump as she came down from the orgasmic high, panting and whimpering lightly as overstimulated flesh hit soft bed sheets.
He shifted up to her head, and tilted up her chin to capture her lips once more, letting her taste herself. At one time, she couldn’t stand to taste her juices on his tongue. Now, she relished it, drank hungrily into the kiss, whining for more when he pulled away, smirking.
Even as her body tingled, she wanted more. Everything.
"Please fuck me Sir," she begged so prettily, so tired but so wanting.
Sherlock chuckled low, and sat up again, coming behind her and raising her hips up.
She eagerly held the position as his hands left her hips and she heard him undoing his trousers. He’d been fully clothed the entire time he was making her more and more indecent. Her trousers and knickers were gone, her shirt and bra a jumble above her breasts, biting into her skin slightly but not too badly.
It was all so indecent, so disgusting.
And as Sherlock pressed himself inside her, she didn’t want anything less.
His nine inches filled her while his remarkable girth stretched her so perfectly, as if her cunt were made for him. In the beginning, taking Sherlock’s cock hurt slightly, being unused to someone so big. Now he felt perfect, her cunt sucking every inch of him in to the hilt. She could feel his zipper digging into her arse, reawakening the sting from earlier’s spankings, adding to the pleasure.
He held her in place as he began to thrust, and the room was filled with the sound of her moans, his grunts, of flesh slapping against flesh and cloth against her arse and it was too much, after everything else.
Molly came again with a cry, burying her head into the sheets, and Sherlock continued riding her through her convulsions and beyond, using her cunt as she slumped.
He thrusts stuttered as he came with a silent roar, seated fully inside her, and Molly let out another faint moan as she felt his cum flooding into her.
When he was finished, he pulled out of her. He would have loved to slump as she had, exhausted and ready to rest, but he had things to attend to first.
He took up the towel and wiped off before adjusting himself in his trousers and doing them up again. He then rubbed the towel on the insides of her legs, where their combined juices had begun to gather.
He undid the spreader bar and placed it aside to be cleaned. He took each of her ankles in turn, massaging the irritated skin gently where she’d struggled to shift or buck against him.
Next, the bindings on her arms. A few tugs, and the nylon rope gave way. He pulled it from her and tossed it into the waste bin before turning to the bed to rub each of her arms carefully, encouraging the blood flow and ensuring that she was not hurt.
He helped her slip out of her shirt and bra, then left her for a moment to strip and change into a pair of pyjama bottoms.
Back on the bed, he pulled her into his lap, where she curled up against him, her face nuzzled into his neck. A few tears fell, his shoulder dampening. No sound came with the tears. None usually did when she was so far gone, but he rubbed her back and made sure she knew what a good Kitten she was and how much he loved her as she floated down from subspace and back into her body.
When she hummed softly, contently, Sherlock knew she was back.
He kissed the top of her head lightly.
Another soft hum. “… Love you too, Sher..” She snuggled further into his arms, and Sherlock accommodated. She was asleep almost before she settled again.
He was careful, shifting them one last time so that they were under the covers, laying down. She curled instinctively into his side, her head resting on his chest so she could hear his heart beating as she slept, a soothing lullaby.
Sherlock held her close, finally able to rest with her needs taken care of. He closed his eyes, and curled toward her body, giving her another kiss on her forehead before he too drifted off.