ihadabadday | Into the Night - AU - Locked to seaweed

John made a soft noise. Being tugged and pulled and maneuvered made him a little weak in the knees. Images of being pinned to the wall, his legs around Sherlock's waist as the man had him flashed through his mind.

Or sitting on the counter with Sherlock crowding his space and kissing him.

He whimpered softly into the kiss.

Sherlock broke the kiss and looked at John, a salacious smile on his face.

"You're thinking about sex on the counter. I saw your eyes cant over there, and then back to me." He said in a low, sly, sexy voice. "You want me to sit you up there and have my way with you, don't you?" He was almost growling now.

Sherlock pressed his hip up against John's so he could feel what the man was doing to him, just thinking about what they could debauch in his kitchen.

John whimpered and nodded. He had been. The counter, the wall, bent over the table, on the floor. Being made to cook with nothing but an apron and the ever present butt plug inside him.

He pressed his hips back against Sherlock's, gasping. Oh fuck.

Sherlock smiled again. He excelled at reading people, and John was a man who wore his heart on his sleeve, if you could look past the silly woolly jumpers he seemed to like wearing. Even only after a few days of knowing him, he could see the man's thoughts, his intentions.

"Well then, John Watson. Get the hell on with it." He backed John up until his arse was against the counter. Sherlock had a wiry strength, he probably could have hauled John up there bodily, but he preferred not to possibly hurt his back,so best to let John do it himself.

John whimpered and then nodded. He backed up until his arse hit the counter. He hauled himself up onto the counter. He spread his legs, inviting Sherlock in.

He didn't mind that Sherlock could read him. It resulted in fantastic sex.

It was so hard to turn off this part of him, the part that wanted to dominate John, to fuck him against the back splash behind the counter, and give a shit about the mess they were about to make.

But he had promised John, not outside a scene.. and he took a second to compose himself before he stepped forward. He was still wearing his clothes, well, they both were, but that would be remedied soon. The only problem was that the counter was a b bit high, he would have to be up on his toes to be inside John, that was not really going to work long term.

But.. at least they could start here...

John licked his lips as he watched Sherlock step closer. He bit his lip, moaning.

"Sir..." he whined.

He loved it when Sherlock dominated him, took him without remorse. He shuddered and squirmed on the counter.

Sherlock's eyes widened, and then grew hard and cold.

"Do you want... a scene?" He asked. He hated that he had to pull John out of the moment a bit by asking, but he was never, ever in all the years that he lived, going to assume that he was getting into a scene with someone without expressly asking first, so he knew exactly what to expect.

And if it broke the moment for a short time, so be it. It was worth it for not having any miscommunications or worse later.

"Use your words like a big boy..." He teased, pretty much already knowing the answer. It was a bit of a break from his own rules, but mostly harmless banter, not getting into anything hot or heavy yet, until John confirmed it.

He let out a breath and nodded. "Yes. Please." He appreciated that Sherlock asked. He swallowed and shifted. He could feel the plug inside him move. It was... It was huge and pressing and it made him ache.

Knowing he had Sherlock's come trapped inside him, filling him. It marked him. Reminded him who he belonged to.

"Alright." He said, in a soft, calm voice. That was the last of that, though. In an instant, he was the dom, his eyes cold and distant, his posture straight, his voice firm, demanding, no nonsense.

"You know the position, boy. Get to it." The warmth in his tone was gone. In its place was a voice that he knew that John dare not disobey. He had done so once, and he knew what the punishment was.

He slid off the counter and dropped to his knees in front of Sherlock. John lowered his head and put his hands on his thighs.

The blonde swallowed. He was aching, his cock pressing against his trousers. He wanted to be fucked, to be held down and used as nothing more than a glorified Fleshlight.

"Ahem." He cleared his throat. "Aren't you... forgetting something?" He motioned to John's entire body. He frowned. The position was always supposed to be when naked. He tapped his foot angrily. He didn't like to be kept waiting.

John quickly undressed, folding his clothes just as fast. He was soon nude for his Sir's pleasure and wants.

He didn't look up, not wanting to disappoint Sir further.

"Good boy." He pet John's head like one would do to a favorite dog.

"Now, tell me. How long have you had that plug in your arse?" He asked with a sadistic grin. "The one that has my come all over it?"

Sherlock reached down and pushed down on John's shoulder, not enough to hurt him, but enough to make him move down and push that plug further inside of him, all the way to the base. As John was undressing he saw that having it in his arse for that long was loosening the muscles, and it was slipping just a bit.

"All day sir. Since you put it in me this morning." He answered almost breathlessly.

John cried out when he was pushed. That plug moving further into his body. It had left him nice and stretched. He could no doubt take a large dildo, crying and gasping when it was moved.

"Ah, that is nice." He said, in mock cheerfulness, but his smile was gone in an instant. "But now, I think its time to replace it with something else."

Sherlock took a step back. "Stand up, and lean over the kitchen table." Close your eyes, and stay like that until I return. And if you even think about touching yourself or rutting against the table, you will have me to deal with."

John rose to his feet and nodded. "Yes'sir." He swallowed and then moved over to the table. Without complaint he bent over. It put his arse on display and caused him to want more.

Knowing that he was on display for Sherlock. Knowing the man would use him, fuck him.

As much as he had intended to just walk away, he couldn't help but go over to that wonderful plug filled arse of John's and move the plug in and out a few times, making sure that it hit his prostate each time.

The last time, he pushed it in hard, gave his right cheek a hard slap, and told him to stay just like that. Don't move.

Sherlock went into the bedroom, and prepared.

John gasped and moaned with each pass of the plug inside him. And the slap against one cheek. It was almost enough to send him over the edge. He whimpered but nodded. He wouldn't move. He would stay right here.

Sherlock, even though he wanted to get back there and roger John into the table, he took his time and stripped down naked. He lubed himself up and stroked himself until he was hard- not that there was very far to go.

And when that was done, he waited a bit longer, iddly stroking himself to stay hard, just to let John wait, and see if he would be able to wait and obey his master.

He waited. He didn't move. John took slow even breaths to keep himself centered. He didn't want to disappoint Sir. He wanted to prove he was good. So very good.

He swallowed and relaxed.

Sherlock figured after about 15 minutes, he had waited long enough. He grabbed the bottle of lube and walked out towards the kitchen.

"I hope, for your sake, your eyes are closed and there is no mess on the kitchen table." The table that he had, thankfully cleaned of his experiments before this whole thing started. He wasn't about to lose his research to slake his lust.

When he walked into the kitchen, he licked his lips. Oh, John was so needy and wonton, it made him even harder just looking at the man. He was going to really enjoy this.

His eyes were indeed closed and there was no mess. But John was desperate. He squirmed and gasped.

"They are sir. I wouldn't dream of coming without your approval."

"Good boy." Sherlock pat Johns head. "Now, grab onto the ends of the table, cause I'm gonna fuck you down onto it.

He gave his cock a good lubing up and stroked it a few time, then slapped John's arse with it one one cheek, then the other.

In one deft motion, he pulled the plug out, and slid his cock in.. Between the plug stretching and the lube inside and out, he slid right in with only the slightest bit of resistance.

"Ahhhhh.."

John did grab the table. He felt like an offering in this position. But that's what he was? An offering to appease his master.

He felt like... Like the waiting made it so much more. The anticipation, the lust, the want and everything.

He gasped with each slap against his arse. But then. Oh then Sherlock was pulling the plug out and pushing in. He cried out at the sensation. There was no resistance, no pain. Just the feeling of Sherlock taking him. Owning him.

Into the Night - AU - Locked to seaweed_writes

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