Sherlock - fic - Extraterrestrial Biological Entity, Sherlock/John, NC-17
Title - Extraterrestrial Biological Entity
Author - laurab1
Rating - NC-17 aka 18
Warnings - roleplay kink, medfet, BDSM, D/s
Pairing - Sherlock/John
Length - ~1900 words
Summary - Even John is prepared to admit that his fantasy is hardly run of the mill.
Spoilers - to 2.1 A Scandal in Belgravia
Disclaimer - Alas, none of these people are entirely mine. This version of Sherlock Holmes belongs to Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss, the BBC et al. However, Sherlock Holmes as created by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle is in the public domain.
Feedback is loved and appreciated :) Enjoy!
A/N - Written for this prompt on sherlockbbc-fic. It’s all safe, sane, loving and consensual.
Thanks to alice_day for the beta :)
Prompt: John is embarrassed by it, but he has a kink where he gets off at the thought of being experimented on by aliens. Literally, the strapped down, clinical table and atmosphere, strange and beautiful creatures looking down at him and taking notes. He's resigned to never having this kink indulged. Sherlock works it out (or maybe John tells him about it) and decides to make it happen. (Would really like this to be an established relationship fic, but a first time would be welcome as well.)
Extraterrestrial Biological Entity
by Laura
He’s a doctor.
He’s a soldier.
He’s an adrenaline junkie.
He’s flatmate, blogger, friend, and partner (in all senses of the word) to Sherlock Holmes.
He likes sex.
John Watson has both seen and done a fair bit in his life, but even he’s prepared to admit that for a kink, his is hardly run of the mill. Yes, he knows medical procedures -- or more accurately, misappropriated medical procedures -- are a fetish for some people. But, as embarrassed as he has been by it, despite his own better judgment telling him he shouldn’t be, because, to quote himself, “it’s all fine,” his particular kink is the thought of being strapped down to a clinical examination table and experimented on by aliens. And it’s not against his will, either.
It’s hardly surprising that no one has previously indulged him in it.
But now, here he and Sherlock are, in a very private, very soundproofed suite, in a very secure medical facility (thanks to Mycroft, most probably), where they will be very extensively indulging John’s very specific kink.
Well, here he is, as Sherlock prepared some of John’s part of the scene, then departed to the other room so he could prepare himself. Naked, and restrained, he’s unable to do anything other than think, so John reminds himself how they ended up here…
Between Irene Adler and her variety of sex games in their lives, and Gillian Anderson on the telly, the fantasy he’d first had back in the days of “The X Files” was making itself known again. For the past week, John had dreamt about nothing else. Now, here he was, writing out his “experimented on by aliens” kink in full. Because just maybe, in Sherlock Holmes, he’d found someone who might actually help him make it a reality.
“Is that going on your blog, John?” he suddenly heard, and then became aware of the man stood behind him, reading over his shoulder. “It’s hardly your usual fare.”
“No, Sherlock, and, well, it’s exactly my usual fare,” John replied, still typing.
Sherlock chuckled. It was good to hear him laugh, as he definitely hadn’t done enough of that lately. “You’ve had this particular fantasy for quite some time.”
“About twenty years.”
“And this sexual fantasy has remained just that. But recent events have brought it to the front of your mind once more.”
“Yes,” John said, adding the last few words and saving the document. He opened his email and sent a message to Sherlock, with said document attached.
Sherlock moved, and stood where John could see him. “Instructions. For me. Detailed instructions.”
“Very detailed instructions.” John smirked up at his partner.
“Allow me some time to make preparations. Then the aliens will experiment on you to your heart’s content, John.”
There was gleam in Sherlock’s eye as he said this, which sent a pleasurable shiver of anticipation down John’s spine. Smiling, he shut down and closed up his laptop, then rose from his seat. “How about you experimenting on me right now?” he said, slipping a hand behind Sherlock’s neck, pulling his head down for a kiss.
“I believe that could be arranged,” Sherlock replied, and they quickly made their way to the bedroom.
The sound of doors being closed and opened draws John out of his memories. And then Sherlock arrives, standing before him in jeans that are so skin-tight that they look like they’re painted onto his lovely, long legs. His feet and chest are bare. His face is actually painted: bright red lipstick, eyeliner transforming his very observant eyes into all-seeing Eyes of Horus.
“John,” he whispers, stroking a hand down the doctor’s arm. “Sufficiently alien for you?”
“Christ, Sherlock,” John says, equally quiet. An intense, skin-tightening arousal is already making itself known, thrumming away deep inside his body. “Oh, yes. You definitely look the part.”
“Usual safeword?”
“Yes, of course.”
“I shall be speaking in Ancient Greek for the duration, John.”
“All right. That’s just about sufficiently alien for me, too.”
Sherlock secures a second strap over John’s torso, and presses a button, tipping the clinical examination table flat again. “Then let’s start the experiments, human,” he says, and the scene begins.
***
Sherlock looks down at John, and drags the trolley bearing his tray of instruments and toys closer to the wider than usual table. His legs are free, allowing for the possibility of movement. For the possibility of ankle restraints. Sherlock examines his tray, plucks the Wartenberg wheel from it, and shows this to John.
“Ioannis.”
At the sight of the device with the wicked, sharp little spikes, John’s eyes light up. “Yes,” he mouths, nodding.
Sherlock reaches out with his free hand, tips John’s head to the side, and gently runs his fingers through John’s military short hair, exposing his scalp. He brings up his other hand, and presses the wheel to the centre of John’s forehead. Pinprick red marks appear, and as Sherlock slowly and carefully runs it over the delicate skin on John’s head, his partner closes his eyes. He repeats the action all over John’s scalp, observing, all the time, watching, listening, deciding that this experiment is over when John is almost fully aroused. He finishes with the Wartenberg wheel far quicker than John would apparently like, judging by his sigh. Sherlock deposits it into another tray, and drags a nail over John’s scalp, ending up on his forehead.
“You’re all right,” he says, in a tongue John doesn’t quite understand, but a tone that he definitely knows.
John smiles, and opens his eyes. Sherlock pushes his head flat on the table again, kisses his lips, and takes his hands away from John’s body, signifying the end of the first experiment. Reaching into the tray, he pulls out a newly acquired iPad, brings up a notes app and as instructed, records his observations. Finished, he replaces the tablet in his tray.
Returning his attention to John, Sherlock presses a button, slightly tipping up the top half of the table again. This is the next experiment. He takes a few steps, and places his hands on his partner’s thighs. With no warning other than the touch, Sherlock quickly spreads John’s legs, fully displaying his burgeoning erection. John closes his eyes, and slowly lets out a shaky, aroused breath. In turn, Sherlock runs both hands down each of John’s legs, and secures his ankles to the examination table as well. With the added restraint, John becomes even more aroused.
“Ioannis,” Sherlock says, stood slightly back from the table as he wraps his hand around John’s now fully erect penis.
A minute or so of Sherlock working it, stroking and squeezing, and John orgasms. Just as well their room is soundproofed, because the noises he makes are even louder than usual. The semen ends up on Sherlock’s hand, and John’s chest and legs. Sherlock looks at his partner’s face. Eyes closed, John’s smiling, as he catches his breath. Sherlock removes his hand, grabs some tissue from the trolley, and cleans up most of the semen. Before it’s all gone, though, he takes a vial from the tray, and runs it over John’s chest, collecting some of the pearlescent liquid. Screwing a top onto the vial, he places it next to the wheel. This is the end of the second experiment. Sherlock takes up his tablet again, recording the results of this one as well.
And this would be the end, but as John appreciated it quite so much, while he’s still coming back down, while his eyes are still closed, Sherlock puts down his notebook, then very carefully and quietly picks up the Wartenberg wheel once more. He places it on John’s chest, exerts just a little pressure, watches the red pinpricks appear. John eyes fly open, and they’re so bright, when Sherlock sees them.
“Oh, God, yes, you strange, beautiful and bloody clever creature!”
Sherlock grins, and runs the wheel across John’s chest, making sure to hit both his nipples. John appreciates this extra move, as well, and Sherlock records his observations of this extra experiment. He waits until John’s eyes are open, then gently turns his head towards him again.
“This concludes my experiments on you, human,” Sherlock says, in English, and the scene finishes.
***
It’s the end.
His kink has been indulged, his long-standing fantasy has been made a reality, and now it’s the end. Yes, he’s happy, but he also feels a little bereft. Probably sub-drop. They know how to deal with that.
“I’m going to remove all the straps from you, now, John. I’ll start with the ankle restraints,” Sherlock says softly, his hand on John’s head.
“All right, Sherlock,” John replies.
Sherlock works slowly and carefully, then pushes John’s still fairly boneless legs back together. The wrist restraints are next, and he rubs life back into John’s freed arms. Finally, the straps across his chest are unbuckled. Sherlock tips the table flat again, and pushes the trolley away.
He looks down at John. “I’m going to go and change. How are your legs? Will you be able to stand, when I return?”
John blinks. Oh, yes, he had to walk back to the other room in the suite to get dressed again, didn’t he?
“Yeah. Think the life will be back in them, soon.”
“Very well. I’ll see you shortly, then.”
Sherlock leans down, and kisses him, briefly slipping his tongue between John’s lips. He moves away too quickly, and John has to listen to him leave. A few minutes later, he’s back, wearing his shirt, suit and coat. And no make-up. Sherlock helps John to sit up, then stand. John pulls him down for a kiss, and slips his tongue into Sherlock’s mouth.
When they have to break for air, John places his hands on either side of Sherlock’s head, and says, “Thank you very much for indulging me, Sherlock Holmes, you beautiful, bloody clever man.”
A tiny, rare, and completely genuine smile graces those cupid bow lips. “Thank you for being so very not boring with your sexual fantasy, John Watson, you beautiful, clever man.”
Then they’re giggling, but that stops when Sherlock pulls John into the embrace they both need. They’re still for a few minutes, just breathing. John eventually eases away, and walks to the other room. While he dresses, he has more time to think, to come back to himself. Will Sherlock let him read what he wrote? Or is it in some impenetrable code? John knows one thing, though, he’s recording this for himself, making it an addition to the document he sent to Sherlock. He’ll email him that, too. They both loved this, and they will have to do it again, at some point. Not too soon, though. It was exactly what he wanted, and therefore rather intense.
John pulls his coat on, then heads back to Sherlock. “All right?” he asks, finding him sitting on the table.
“Yes,” Sherlock says, rising. He takes John's hand in his. “Shall we go home?”
Once again, John's grateful for the contact. “Yeah. Let’s go home.”
-end-
Author - laurab1
Rating - NC-17 aka 18
Warnings - roleplay kink, medfet, BDSM, D/s
Pairing - Sherlock/John
Length - ~1900 words
Summary - Even John is prepared to admit that his fantasy is hardly run of the mill.
Spoilers - to 2.1 A Scandal in Belgravia
Disclaimer - Alas, none of these people are entirely mine. This version of Sherlock Holmes belongs to Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss, the BBC et al. However, Sherlock Holmes as created by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle is in the public domain.
Feedback is loved and appreciated :) Enjoy!
A/N - Written for this prompt on sherlockbbc-fic. It’s all safe, sane, loving and consensual.
Thanks to alice_day for the beta :)
Prompt: John is embarrassed by it, but he has a kink where he gets off at the thought of being experimented on by aliens. Literally, the strapped down, clinical table and atmosphere, strange and beautiful creatures looking down at him and taking notes. He's resigned to never having this kink indulged. Sherlock works it out (or maybe John tells him about it) and decides to make it happen. (Would really like this to be an established relationship fic, but a first time would be welcome as well.)
Extraterrestrial Biological Entity
by Laura
He’s a doctor.
He’s a soldier.
He’s an adrenaline junkie.
He’s flatmate, blogger, friend, and partner (in all senses of the word) to Sherlock Holmes.
He likes sex.
John Watson has both seen and done a fair bit in his life, but even he’s prepared to admit that for a kink, his is hardly run of the mill. Yes, he knows medical procedures -- or more accurately, misappropriated medical procedures -- are a fetish for some people. But, as embarrassed as he has been by it, despite his own better judgment telling him he shouldn’t be, because, to quote himself, “it’s all fine,” his particular kink is the thought of being strapped down to a clinical examination table and experimented on by aliens. And it’s not against his will, either.
It’s hardly surprising that no one has previously indulged him in it.
But now, here he and Sherlock are, in a very private, very soundproofed suite, in a very secure medical facility (thanks to Mycroft, most probably), where they will be very extensively indulging John’s very specific kink.
Well, here he is, as Sherlock prepared some of John’s part of the scene, then departed to the other room so he could prepare himself. Naked, and restrained, he’s unable to do anything other than think, so John reminds himself how they ended up here…
Between Irene Adler and her variety of sex games in their lives, and Gillian Anderson on the telly, the fantasy he’d first had back in the days of “The X Files” was making itself known again. For the past week, John had dreamt about nothing else. Now, here he was, writing out his “experimented on by aliens” kink in full. Because just maybe, in Sherlock Holmes, he’d found someone who might actually help him make it a reality.
“Is that going on your blog, John?” he suddenly heard, and then became aware of the man stood behind him, reading over his shoulder. “It’s hardly your usual fare.”
“No, Sherlock, and, well, it’s exactly my usual fare,” John replied, still typing.
Sherlock chuckled. It was good to hear him laugh, as he definitely hadn’t done enough of that lately. “You’ve had this particular fantasy for quite some time.”
“About twenty years.”
“And this sexual fantasy has remained just that. But recent events have brought it to the front of your mind once more.”
“Yes,” John said, adding the last few words and saving the document. He opened his email and sent a message to Sherlock, with said document attached.
Sherlock moved, and stood where John could see him. “Instructions. For me. Detailed instructions.”
“Very detailed instructions.” John smirked up at his partner.
“Allow me some time to make preparations. Then the aliens will experiment on you to your heart’s content, John.”
There was gleam in Sherlock’s eye as he said this, which sent a pleasurable shiver of anticipation down John’s spine. Smiling, he shut down and closed up his laptop, then rose from his seat. “How about you experimenting on me right now?” he said, slipping a hand behind Sherlock’s neck, pulling his head down for a kiss.
“I believe that could be arranged,” Sherlock replied, and they quickly made their way to the bedroom.
The sound of doors being closed and opened draws John out of his memories. And then Sherlock arrives, standing before him in jeans that are so skin-tight that they look like they’re painted onto his lovely, long legs. His feet and chest are bare. His face is actually painted: bright red lipstick, eyeliner transforming his very observant eyes into all-seeing Eyes of Horus.
“John,” he whispers, stroking a hand down the doctor’s arm. “Sufficiently alien for you?”
“Christ, Sherlock,” John says, equally quiet. An intense, skin-tightening arousal is already making itself known, thrumming away deep inside his body. “Oh, yes. You definitely look the part.”
“Usual safeword?”
“Yes, of course.”
“I shall be speaking in Ancient Greek for the duration, John.”
“All right. That’s just about sufficiently alien for me, too.”
Sherlock secures a second strap over John’s torso, and presses a button, tipping the clinical examination table flat again. “Then let’s start the experiments, human,” he says, and the scene begins.
***
Sherlock looks down at John, and drags the trolley bearing his tray of instruments and toys closer to the wider than usual table. His legs are free, allowing for the possibility of movement. For the possibility of ankle restraints. Sherlock examines his tray, plucks the Wartenberg wheel from it, and shows this to John.
“Ioannis.”
At the sight of the device with the wicked, sharp little spikes, John’s eyes light up. “Yes,” he mouths, nodding.
Sherlock reaches out with his free hand, tips John’s head to the side, and gently runs his fingers through John’s military short hair, exposing his scalp. He brings up his other hand, and presses the wheel to the centre of John’s forehead. Pinprick red marks appear, and as Sherlock slowly and carefully runs it over the delicate skin on John’s head, his partner closes his eyes. He repeats the action all over John’s scalp, observing, all the time, watching, listening, deciding that this experiment is over when John is almost fully aroused. He finishes with the Wartenberg wheel far quicker than John would apparently like, judging by his sigh. Sherlock deposits it into another tray, and drags a nail over John’s scalp, ending up on his forehead.
“You’re all right,” he says, in a tongue John doesn’t quite understand, but a tone that he definitely knows.
John smiles, and opens his eyes. Sherlock pushes his head flat on the table again, kisses his lips, and takes his hands away from John’s body, signifying the end of the first experiment. Reaching into the tray, he pulls out a newly acquired iPad, brings up a notes app and as instructed, records his observations. Finished, he replaces the tablet in his tray.
Returning his attention to John, Sherlock presses a button, slightly tipping up the top half of the table again. This is the next experiment. He takes a few steps, and places his hands on his partner’s thighs. With no warning other than the touch, Sherlock quickly spreads John’s legs, fully displaying his burgeoning erection. John closes his eyes, and slowly lets out a shaky, aroused breath. In turn, Sherlock runs both hands down each of John’s legs, and secures his ankles to the examination table as well. With the added restraint, John becomes even more aroused.
“Ioannis,” Sherlock says, stood slightly back from the table as he wraps his hand around John’s now fully erect penis.
A minute or so of Sherlock working it, stroking and squeezing, and John orgasms. Just as well their room is soundproofed, because the noises he makes are even louder than usual. The semen ends up on Sherlock’s hand, and John’s chest and legs. Sherlock looks at his partner’s face. Eyes closed, John’s smiling, as he catches his breath. Sherlock removes his hand, grabs some tissue from the trolley, and cleans up most of the semen. Before it’s all gone, though, he takes a vial from the tray, and runs it over John’s chest, collecting some of the pearlescent liquid. Screwing a top onto the vial, he places it next to the wheel. This is the end of the second experiment. Sherlock takes up his tablet again, recording the results of this one as well.
And this would be the end, but as John appreciated it quite so much, while he’s still coming back down, while his eyes are still closed, Sherlock puts down his notebook, then very carefully and quietly picks up the Wartenberg wheel once more. He places it on John’s chest, exerts just a little pressure, watches the red pinpricks appear. John eyes fly open, and they’re so bright, when Sherlock sees them.
“Oh, God, yes, you strange, beautiful and bloody clever creature!”
Sherlock grins, and runs the wheel across John’s chest, making sure to hit both his nipples. John appreciates this extra move, as well, and Sherlock records his observations of this extra experiment. He waits until John’s eyes are open, then gently turns his head towards him again.
“This concludes my experiments on you, human,” Sherlock says, in English, and the scene finishes.
***
It’s the end.
His kink has been indulged, his long-standing fantasy has been made a reality, and now it’s the end. Yes, he’s happy, but he also feels a little bereft. Probably sub-drop. They know how to deal with that.
“I’m going to remove all the straps from you, now, John. I’ll start with the ankle restraints,” Sherlock says softly, his hand on John’s head.
“All right, Sherlock,” John replies.
Sherlock works slowly and carefully, then pushes John’s still fairly boneless legs back together. The wrist restraints are next, and he rubs life back into John’s freed arms. Finally, the straps across his chest are unbuckled. Sherlock tips the table flat again, and pushes the trolley away.
He looks down at John. “I’m going to go and change. How are your legs? Will you be able to stand, when I return?”
John blinks. Oh, yes, he had to walk back to the other room in the suite to get dressed again, didn’t he?
“Yeah. Think the life will be back in them, soon.”
“Very well. I’ll see you shortly, then.”
Sherlock leans down, and kisses him, briefly slipping his tongue between John’s lips. He moves away too quickly, and John has to listen to him leave. A few minutes later, he’s back, wearing his shirt, suit and coat. And no make-up. Sherlock helps John to sit up, then stand. John pulls him down for a kiss, and slips his tongue into Sherlock’s mouth.
When they have to break for air, John places his hands on either side of Sherlock’s head, and says, “Thank you very much for indulging me, Sherlock Holmes, you beautiful, bloody clever man.”
A tiny, rare, and completely genuine smile graces those cupid bow lips. “Thank you for being so very not boring with your sexual fantasy, John Watson, you beautiful, clever man.”
Then they’re giggling, but that stops when Sherlock pulls John into the embrace they both need. They’re still for a few minutes, just breathing. John eventually eases away, and walks to the other room. While he dresses, he has more time to think, to come back to himself. Will Sherlock let him read what he wrote? Or is it in some impenetrable code? John knows one thing, though, he’s recording this for himself, making it an addition to the document he sent to Sherlock. He’ll email him that, too. They both loved this, and they will have to do it again, at some point. Not too soon, though. It was exactly what he wanted, and therefore rather intense.
John pulls his coat on, then heads back to Sherlock. “All right?” he asks, finding him sitting on the table.
“Yes,” Sherlock says, rising. He takes John's hand in his. “Shall we go home?”
Once again, John's grateful for the contact. “Yeah. Let’s go home.”
-end-