Maid Service
Title: Maid Service
Author: crazycatt71
Rating: R
Fandom: BBC's Sherlock
Pairing: John/Sherlock
Word Count:2278
Warnings: None
Kinks: Costumes, Spanking, D/s, Anal sex
Summary: John gets maid service
A/N: This fills a couple writing requirements so it's post on a bunch of coms.
John trudged slowly up the stairs to the flat. He was cold and tired; he had worked several long days at the clinic and now all he wanted was to collapse in his chair, in front of the fire, with a hot cuppa and never move again. All thoughts of his happy little plan fled the moment he stepped into the flat and saw the destruction. On a normal day the place was not the tidiest; there were piles of books and papers, remnants of Sherlock’s experiments, and other flotsam and jetsam that just seemed to collect everywhere; but today the place looked like several bombs had gone off. There were Styrofoam packing peanuts everywhere, empty boxes strewn about; the previous home of the packing peanuts John surmised. The cushions from the couch had been tossed to the floor and a large amount of papers that had been stacked on the desk now resided all over the floor, the coffee table, and every flat surface in the room. The cause of all the chaos sat huddle in John’s chair, his knees drawn up to his chest, his long arms wrapped around them, shoulders hunched, and his head bowed. John looked around in horror, trying to keep the rage that was boiling in his gut from spilling over.
“Sherlock, what happen?” he asked, keeping his voice calm.
“Board.” Sherlock mumbled without looking up.
John’s hands began to shake as his rage took over. He clenched them into fists as he fought the urge to rush over and yank Sherlock out of his chair and shake him.
“You were board so you decided to trash the flat?” John demanded his voice icy cold.
“It helped for a few minutes.” Sherlock replied.
Something John snapped. He stomped over to Sherlock, grabbed his arm, and pulled him to his feet.
“I realize you have little if any respect for me,” John said, “But I live here too and I deserve to come home to a clean flat so you are going to clean up this mess, all of it, or there will be hell to pay.”
Sherlock stared at John, shock all over his face. John glared back at him. Sherlock tried to pull his arm from John’s grasp; John squeezed it until Sherlock’s eyes widened in pain. He slowly nodded his head. John released his arm with a shove and he stumbled before righting himself. John turned and stomped out the door.
John spent a couple of hours at a pub, nursing a beer. He really wasn’t in the mood to drink but he wasn’t sure he could go home yet. He jumped when his phone buzzed and then smiled at the text.
The flat is so clean you could do surgery in it.
John pulled on his coat and ran out of the pub. The sight that greeted him upon his second return to 221-B was much nicer than the first. The packing peanuts had been returned to their boxes and the boxes removed from the flat. The cushions were returned to their proper places on the couch. All of the papers had been picked up and were nowhere in sight. A fire burned merrily in the fireplace and standing next to it in a French maid costume, with a very short skirt, white apron, black fishnet stockings, and black stilettos, holding feather duster, was Sherlock. He set the duster down and hurried over to help John out of his coat.
“The place looks great,” John told him as he looked around, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen it look better.”
“Thank you, Sir.” Sherlock said. “Will you be having your tea now?”
“Tea would be lovely.” John said.
Sherlock hurried into the kitchen while John settled into his chair. A few minutes later, Sherlock brought in a tray with tea things on it and set it on the coffee table. He poured a cup of tea and handed it to John. John happily took a drink and smiled.
“Perfect.” he announced.
Sherlock smiled.
“Do you need anything else, Sir?” he asked.
“No, that will be all for now.” John replied.
Sherlock picked up the feather duster and began moving about the room, flicking it over objects as he went. John drank his tea while he watched, sighing contently. He set his empty cup aside and bent to untie his shoes.
“Please, Sir, allow me.” Sherlock said as he hurried over,
John sat back and stretched his legs out. Sherlock straddled John’s legs with his back to him and slowly bent at the waist until his chest almost touched John’s lower legs. His movements lifted the short skirt of his uniform, giving John a perfect view of his bare bottom, framed by the straps of the garter belt that held up his stockings. John grabbled the plump ass cheeks and squeezed them as he spread them apart, smiling when he saw the base of the butt plug that was inserted in Sherlock’s hole. Sherlock placed his hands on the floor beside John’s feet to brace himself as John pulled him back until his legs touched the edge of his chair. John picked up the feather duster and flicked over Sherlock’s ass, making him shiver. He lightly trailed up the inside of one thigh and down the other.
“I like how nice the flat looks.” John said in a pleasant conversational tone as he tickled the feathers against Sherlock’s hole. “But that doesn’t excuse the fact that you acted like a spoiled child and created the mess in the first place does it?”
“No, Sir.” Sherlock replied.
“Spoiled children have to be punished, don’t they?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“I’m glad we are in agreement.” John said. “Now, I thing five swats for each offence does that sound fair?”
“Very fair, Sir.” Sherlock agreed.
“Ok then, I list your offences and you keep count of how many swats it equals. “John said. “Packing peanut all over the sitting room, boxes all over the sitting room, couch cushions on the floor, papers strewn everywhere, having a sullen attitude, and making me so cross I had to leave the flat, does that cover it?”
“Yes, Sir.” Sherlock said.
“How many swats does that equal?” John asked.
“Thirty, Sir.” Sherlock replied.
“Thirty, “John agreed, “You were very naughty weren’t you?”
“Yes, Sir,” Sherlock said, “I was very naughty and I need to be punished.”
“Then we’d better get started.” John said. “Count out loud. If you lose count, I’ll start again.”
He grabbed the base of the butt plug in Sherlock ass and slowly pulled it out. A soft mewl escaped from Sherlock when he pushed two of his fingers into his hole and began to slide them in and out. He gasped and then howled as John simultaneously rubbed his fingers against his prostate and brought the handle of the feather duster down on his ass.
“One.” he cried out.
John brought the handle down on the other cheek.
“Two.” Sherlock gasped.
John added a third finger into Sherlock’s hole and pressed down on his prostrate as he brought the handle down twice in rapid succession on Sherlock’s ass.
“Three, four.” Sherlock shouted.
Sherlock continued to shout out the count as John finger fucked and beat his ass until at swat fifteen he called out “Nineteen.”
“Wrong.” John told him, pinching his bright pink ass.
John slid his fingers out of Sherlock and reached for a tube of lube on the side table. He squirted some on his hand and reached for Sherlock’s cock as it hung hard and heavy between his legs.
“Start again.” he commanded as he began to stroke Sherlock, giving the swollen head of his cock a squeeze as he swatted his ass.
“One.” Sherlock choked out.
Somehow, even as John rained swats down on his ass and stroked his cock, making his ass burn, his cock ache, and his nerves sing with pleasure/pain, Sherlock managed to keep calling out the count until with a final crack on the ass he sobbed out “Thirty.”
“Good.” John told him as he dropped the feather duster and let go of Sherlock’s cock.
Sherlock whimpered as John inserted the butt plug back into his ass and gave the bright red flesh a light slap.
“On your feet.” John commanded.
Sherlock slowly climbed to his feet.
“Go and stand by the fireplace.” John told him.
“Sherlock went over to the fireplace. He placed his arms on the mantle and rested his forehead on them. The short skirt of his uniform rose, exposing his lovely, red ass. John ran a hand down the bulge in his jeans as he stood up and walked toward Sherlock. He quickly stripped off his clothes, tossing them to the floor.
“Remove the plug.” John commanded as he lubed up his cock.
Sherlock removed the plug and grabbed the mantle for support as John stepped up behind him and grabbed his hips, pushing his feet apart as he pressed the head of his cock against his hole and roughly pulled him back onto it. Sherlock let out a yip as John’s cock filled him. John growled as Sherlock’s ass closed around his cock, encasing it in tight heat. He began to pump his hips, thrusting hard into Sherlock. Sherlock gasped and moaned as he wiggled his ass and pushed back to meet each of John’s thrusts. John felt his balls draw up and knew he was close. He wrapped a fist around Sherlock cock and began stroking in time to his thrusts. Sherlock pushed back onto John’s cock and then forward into his fist at a frenzied pace, the sounds coming out of him guttural until with a harsh shout he came, shooting all over John’s fist and the fireplace. John pushed into Sherlock’s ass as deep as he could as Sherlock’s orgasm caused his ass to squeeze tightly around his cock. He pressed his face into Sherlock’s back to muffle the sounds he made as he came. For several minutes the stood there still joined, John’s face against Sherlock’s back, Sherlock’s forehead on the mantle. Finally John stepped back, his cock sliding out of Sherlock with a soft plop. Sherlock whimpered as John shoved the plug back into his hole. He turned and sank to his knees in front John. John moaned as Sherlock began to lick his soft prick clean. When that job was done, he rose to his feet and went to get John’s dressing gown. John pulled the gown on, tied the belt and went over to sit in his chair.
“Clean up this mess.” he ordered, waving his hand at his clothes strewn all over the floor.
Sherlock made sure his back was to John as he bent at the waist and picked up John’s shirt. He carefully folded it, placed it on the table, and bent to pick up another piece. John smiled and reached out to squeeze or pinch Sherlock’s red bottom each time he walked past John’s chair to the table. When he had picked up and folded all of John’s clothing, Sherlock came to stand in front of John’s chair.
“I would like some tea.” John told him.
Sherlock hurried into the kitchen. John took a cup of tea from him and took a drink before opening his dressing gown to reveal his hard on.
“Take care of this.” John commanded.
Sherlock dropped to his knees between John’s spread legs and lowered his head. John groaned as Sherlock’s hot wet mouth slowly engulfed his cock. Sherlock slid his mouth along John’s length, flicking his tongue against the underside and giving a hard suck to the head. John tangled his fingers in Sherlock’s hair and pushed his head back down until his nose was in the wiry curls of John’s pubic hair. Sherlock swallowed, the muscles of his throat contracting around John’s cock, making him hum. They both looked up at the sound of footsteps on the stairs. John straitened his dressing gown as Sherlock hurried from the room. John opened the door to reveal Lestrade standing on the landing about to knock.
“Sorry to drop by unannounced.” he said when he saw John’s state of dress.
“I was headed for the shower.” John explained.
“I won’t keep you then, is Sherlock in?” Lestrade asked.
“No,” John said, “he went out.” John said.
Lestrade held up a stack of files.
“Cold cases,” he explained, “I thought they might help keep him occupied.”
John nodded and stepped aside so Lestrade could enter the flat. The Inspector head to the the desk, looking around the flat as he did.
“I’ve never seen the place so tidy.” he commented. “What happen?”
“I hired a maid service.” John said.
“They did a great job. Is this going to be a regular thing?” Lestrade asked.
“Oh, I plan on using them on a regular basis.” John said with a grin.
Lestrade gave him a puzzled look and then shrugged.
“I’ll let you get to your shower.” he said as he headed out the door. John shut the door behind him and headed for the bedroom. Sherlock stood beside the bed with his hands on his hips.
“You expect me to be your maid service on a regular basis?” he demanded.
“Yes.” John replied as he came over to wrap his arms around Sherlock and squeezed his ass.
“Why?” Sherlock asked.
“As I told Lestrade,” John replied, as he kissed on Sherlock’s neck “I plan on using my maid service over and over and over.”
Sherlock grinned and rubbed against him.
“How may I be of service, Sir?” he purred.
John laughed as he tumbled them onto the bed.
Author: crazycatt71
Rating: R
Fandom: BBC's Sherlock
Pairing: John/Sherlock
Word Count:2278
Warnings: None
Kinks: Costumes, Spanking, D/s, Anal sex
Summary: John gets maid service
A/N: This fills a couple writing requirements so it's post on a bunch of coms.
John trudged slowly up the stairs to the flat. He was cold and tired; he had worked several long days at the clinic and now all he wanted was to collapse in his chair, in front of the fire, with a hot cuppa and never move again. All thoughts of his happy little plan fled the moment he stepped into the flat and saw the destruction. On a normal day the place was not the tidiest; there were piles of books and papers, remnants of Sherlock’s experiments, and other flotsam and jetsam that just seemed to collect everywhere; but today the place looked like several bombs had gone off. There were Styrofoam packing peanuts everywhere, empty boxes strewn about; the previous home of the packing peanuts John surmised. The cushions from the couch had been tossed to the floor and a large amount of papers that had been stacked on the desk now resided all over the floor, the coffee table, and every flat surface in the room. The cause of all the chaos sat huddle in John’s chair, his knees drawn up to his chest, his long arms wrapped around them, shoulders hunched, and his head bowed. John looked around in horror, trying to keep the rage that was boiling in his gut from spilling over.
“Sherlock, what happen?” he asked, keeping his voice calm.
“Board.” Sherlock mumbled without looking up.
John’s hands began to shake as his rage took over. He clenched them into fists as he fought the urge to rush over and yank Sherlock out of his chair and shake him.
“You were board so you decided to trash the flat?” John demanded his voice icy cold.
“It helped for a few minutes.” Sherlock replied.
Something John snapped. He stomped over to Sherlock, grabbed his arm, and pulled him to his feet.
“I realize you have little if any respect for me,” John said, “But I live here too and I deserve to come home to a clean flat so you are going to clean up this mess, all of it, or there will be hell to pay.”
Sherlock stared at John, shock all over his face. John glared back at him. Sherlock tried to pull his arm from John’s grasp; John squeezed it until Sherlock’s eyes widened in pain. He slowly nodded his head. John released his arm with a shove and he stumbled before righting himself. John turned and stomped out the door.
John spent a couple of hours at a pub, nursing a beer. He really wasn’t in the mood to drink but he wasn’t sure he could go home yet. He jumped when his phone buzzed and then smiled at the text.
The flat is so clean you could do surgery in it.
John pulled on his coat and ran out of the pub. The sight that greeted him upon his second return to 221-B was much nicer than the first. The packing peanuts had been returned to their boxes and the boxes removed from the flat. The cushions were returned to their proper places on the couch. All of the papers had been picked up and were nowhere in sight. A fire burned merrily in the fireplace and standing next to it in a French maid costume, with a very short skirt, white apron, black fishnet stockings, and black stilettos, holding feather duster, was Sherlock. He set the duster down and hurried over to help John out of his coat.
“The place looks great,” John told him as he looked around, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen it look better.”
“Thank you, Sir.” Sherlock said. “Will you be having your tea now?”
“Tea would be lovely.” John said.
Sherlock hurried into the kitchen while John settled into his chair. A few minutes later, Sherlock brought in a tray with tea things on it and set it on the coffee table. He poured a cup of tea and handed it to John. John happily took a drink and smiled.
“Perfect.” he announced.
Sherlock smiled.
“Do you need anything else, Sir?” he asked.
“No, that will be all for now.” John replied.
Sherlock picked up the feather duster and began moving about the room, flicking it over objects as he went. John drank his tea while he watched, sighing contently. He set his empty cup aside and bent to untie his shoes.
“Please, Sir, allow me.” Sherlock said as he hurried over,
John sat back and stretched his legs out. Sherlock straddled John’s legs with his back to him and slowly bent at the waist until his chest almost touched John’s lower legs. His movements lifted the short skirt of his uniform, giving John a perfect view of his bare bottom, framed by the straps of the garter belt that held up his stockings. John grabbled the plump ass cheeks and squeezed them as he spread them apart, smiling when he saw the base of the butt plug that was inserted in Sherlock’s hole. Sherlock placed his hands on the floor beside John’s feet to brace himself as John pulled him back until his legs touched the edge of his chair. John picked up the feather duster and flicked over Sherlock’s ass, making him shiver. He lightly trailed up the inside of one thigh and down the other.
“I like how nice the flat looks.” John said in a pleasant conversational tone as he tickled the feathers against Sherlock’s hole. “But that doesn’t excuse the fact that you acted like a spoiled child and created the mess in the first place does it?”
“No, Sir.” Sherlock replied.
“Spoiled children have to be punished, don’t they?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“I’m glad we are in agreement.” John said. “Now, I thing five swats for each offence does that sound fair?”
“Very fair, Sir.” Sherlock agreed.
“Ok then, I list your offences and you keep count of how many swats it equals. “John said. “Packing peanut all over the sitting room, boxes all over the sitting room, couch cushions on the floor, papers strewn everywhere, having a sullen attitude, and making me so cross I had to leave the flat, does that cover it?”
“Yes, Sir.” Sherlock said.
“How many swats does that equal?” John asked.
“Thirty, Sir.” Sherlock replied.
“Thirty, “John agreed, “You were very naughty weren’t you?”
“Yes, Sir,” Sherlock said, “I was very naughty and I need to be punished.”
“Then we’d better get started.” John said. “Count out loud. If you lose count, I’ll start again.”
He grabbed the base of the butt plug in Sherlock ass and slowly pulled it out. A soft mewl escaped from Sherlock when he pushed two of his fingers into his hole and began to slide them in and out. He gasped and then howled as John simultaneously rubbed his fingers against his prostate and brought the handle of the feather duster down on his ass.
“One.” he cried out.
John brought the handle down on the other cheek.
“Two.” Sherlock gasped.
John added a third finger into Sherlock’s hole and pressed down on his prostrate as he brought the handle down twice in rapid succession on Sherlock’s ass.
“Three, four.” Sherlock shouted.
Sherlock continued to shout out the count as John finger fucked and beat his ass until at swat fifteen he called out “Nineteen.”
“Wrong.” John told him, pinching his bright pink ass.
John slid his fingers out of Sherlock and reached for a tube of lube on the side table. He squirted some on his hand and reached for Sherlock’s cock as it hung hard and heavy between his legs.
“Start again.” he commanded as he began to stroke Sherlock, giving the swollen head of his cock a squeeze as he swatted his ass.
“One.” Sherlock choked out.
Somehow, even as John rained swats down on his ass and stroked his cock, making his ass burn, his cock ache, and his nerves sing with pleasure/pain, Sherlock managed to keep calling out the count until with a final crack on the ass he sobbed out “Thirty.”
“Good.” John told him as he dropped the feather duster and let go of Sherlock’s cock.
Sherlock whimpered as John inserted the butt plug back into his ass and gave the bright red flesh a light slap.
“On your feet.” John commanded.
Sherlock slowly climbed to his feet.
“Go and stand by the fireplace.” John told him.
“Sherlock went over to the fireplace. He placed his arms on the mantle and rested his forehead on them. The short skirt of his uniform rose, exposing his lovely, red ass. John ran a hand down the bulge in his jeans as he stood up and walked toward Sherlock. He quickly stripped off his clothes, tossing them to the floor.
“Remove the plug.” John commanded as he lubed up his cock.
Sherlock removed the plug and grabbed the mantle for support as John stepped up behind him and grabbed his hips, pushing his feet apart as he pressed the head of his cock against his hole and roughly pulled him back onto it. Sherlock let out a yip as John’s cock filled him. John growled as Sherlock’s ass closed around his cock, encasing it in tight heat. He began to pump his hips, thrusting hard into Sherlock. Sherlock gasped and moaned as he wiggled his ass and pushed back to meet each of John’s thrusts. John felt his balls draw up and knew he was close. He wrapped a fist around Sherlock cock and began stroking in time to his thrusts. Sherlock pushed back onto John’s cock and then forward into his fist at a frenzied pace, the sounds coming out of him guttural until with a harsh shout he came, shooting all over John’s fist and the fireplace. John pushed into Sherlock’s ass as deep as he could as Sherlock’s orgasm caused his ass to squeeze tightly around his cock. He pressed his face into Sherlock’s back to muffle the sounds he made as he came. For several minutes the stood there still joined, John’s face against Sherlock’s back, Sherlock’s forehead on the mantle. Finally John stepped back, his cock sliding out of Sherlock with a soft plop. Sherlock whimpered as John shoved the plug back into his hole. He turned and sank to his knees in front John. John moaned as Sherlock began to lick his soft prick clean. When that job was done, he rose to his feet and went to get John’s dressing gown. John pulled the gown on, tied the belt and went over to sit in his chair.
“Clean up this mess.” he ordered, waving his hand at his clothes strewn all over the floor.
Sherlock made sure his back was to John as he bent at the waist and picked up John’s shirt. He carefully folded it, placed it on the table, and bent to pick up another piece. John smiled and reached out to squeeze or pinch Sherlock’s red bottom each time he walked past John’s chair to the table. When he had picked up and folded all of John’s clothing, Sherlock came to stand in front of John’s chair.
“I would like some tea.” John told him.
Sherlock hurried into the kitchen. John took a cup of tea from him and took a drink before opening his dressing gown to reveal his hard on.
“Take care of this.” John commanded.
Sherlock dropped to his knees between John’s spread legs and lowered his head. John groaned as Sherlock’s hot wet mouth slowly engulfed his cock. Sherlock slid his mouth along John’s length, flicking his tongue against the underside and giving a hard suck to the head. John tangled his fingers in Sherlock’s hair and pushed his head back down until his nose was in the wiry curls of John’s pubic hair. Sherlock swallowed, the muscles of his throat contracting around John’s cock, making him hum. They both looked up at the sound of footsteps on the stairs. John straitened his dressing gown as Sherlock hurried from the room. John opened the door to reveal Lestrade standing on the landing about to knock.
“Sorry to drop by unannounced.” he said when he saw John’s state of dress.
“I was headed for the shower.” John explained.
“I won’t keep you then, is Sherlock in?” Lestrade asked.
“No,” John said, “he went out.” John said.
Lestrade held up a stack of files.
“Cold cases,” he explained, “I thought they might help keep him occupied.”
John nodded and stepped aside so Lestrade could enter the flat. The Inspector head to the the desk, looking around the flat as he did.
“I’ve never seen the place so tidy.” he commented. “What happen?”
“I hired a maid service.” John said.
“They did a great job. Is this going to be a regular thing?” Lestrade asked.
“Oh, I plan on using them on a regular basis.” John said with a grin.
Lestrade gave him a puzzled look and then shrugged.
“I’ll let you get to your shower.” he said as he headed out the door. John shut the door behind him and headed for the bedroom. Sherlock stood beside the bed with his hands on his hips.
“You expect me to be your maid service on a regular basis?” he demanded.
“Yes.” John replied as he came over to wrap his arms around Sherlock and squeezed his ass.
“Why?” Sherlock asked.
“As I told Lestrade,” John replied, as he kissed on Sherlock’s neck “I plan on using my maid service over and over and over.”
Sherlock grinned and rubbed against him.
“How may I be of service, Sir?” he purred.
John laughed as he tumbled them onto the bed.