Fill: He loves you (1a/?)
anonymous
August 21 2011, 22:42:39 UTC
“I had no idea that we have so many friends who have so many ideas what to give us for our wedding,” John said while looking through piles of presents.
Sherlock just smiled and continued to look through a file which had appeared in the middle of the presents some minutes ago.
“What’s it?” John asked. “Did somebody give you a case? I’ve never seen case files with red ribbons.”
“It isn’t a case. It’s another present. Should be here in an hour,” Sherlock replied.
“I hope it’s small. I already don’t know how to store everything,” John answered.
“It’s about 5' 11" and rather flexible,” Sherlock replied.
“What?” John asked and went to join Sherlock on the sofa. “That’s a file about a slave. How...?”
“It’s Mycroft’s present. He gave us a house-slave. I think Mummy told him that it’d be a good idea. I agree,” Sherlock said and pulled John close to kiss him.
“A house-slave?” John asked later. “Why would we need a slave?”
“Your family didn’t own slaves, did they?” Sherlock answered. “They’re useful. They can do all the boring stuff. Some of them are trained for special duties.”
“Well, it sounds useful, but it’s strange to own somebody,” John replied. “I’m not used to it.”
“Just order him around like a soldier. Should be easy for you,” Sherlock said.
“We don’t have a room for him,” John said. “It’ll be very complicated to have him here.”
“It won’t. They’re undemanding,” Sherlock answered. “No need to worry about it.”
“Well, we’ll see. Is there anything special about him?” John asked.
“Of course, Mycroft wouldn’t give us something ordinary. He’s perfectly trained in housekeeping and every type of sexual activity,” Sherlock answered.
“He’s what?” John coughed, grabbed the file, and read it himself.
“I think Mummy and Mycroft want to make sure that we have everything we need. It’s good to have somebody who does the chores for you. You’ll have much more time for me and it’ll be better for your shoulder,” Sherlock explained. “And it’s perfectly logical that I’ll use his other training.”
“You want to...” John started but didn’t finish.
“You always allow me to satisfy my special needs elsewhere. Do you object now?” Sherlock asked with a very confused expression. “It’ll be very useful to have a slave here. I won’t have to go out anymore and you could watch.”
“I don’t think that I want to watch. No, I don’t object. I know that you need it, love. And I can’t do it. It’s okay. But it’s a strange thought that you’d do it with a slave,” John answered. “I don’t know. You’d have to force him.”
“Thanks, love,” Sherlock said and kissed him. “It’s our right to do whatever we want with him. You’ll get used to it. He’s trained for it and he’s experienced. It’d be unnecessary to force him. But I hope he’s rebellious; that’s more interesting.”
A few minutes later Mrs. Hudson opened the front door and let Mycroft in. Mycroft was accompanied by a slave, their new slave. John had to admit that the man looked stunning. He wore a simple white shirt, black trousers, black shoes, and a wide black collar around his neck. He carried a box, held his head slightly bowed, and looked at the floor right in front of his shoes.
“I thought I’d deliver him in person,” Mycroft said.
“Thank you, Mycroft. That’s... um it’s very generous to give us a slave,” John stammered.
“You’re very welcome, John,” Mycroft answered. “I don’t think that Sherlock can bring himself to admit that he likes him, but I know that he’ll find him very entertaining.”
“Turn around, slave,” Sherlock ordered in a voice John only knew as his interrogation voice.
The slave followed the order immediately and John was able to find out that his backside was very appealing as well.
“He’s suitable,” Sherlock answered and gave Mycroft a bored look.
“You’ll find out that he’s amazingly well trained. I chose him myself. I’m sorry that I have to leave so soon, but duty calls,” Mycroft said and shook John’s hand.
“I can’t stand him every day,” Sherlock moaned after Mycroft had left their flat.
“You can never stand him,” John answered.
“True,” Sherlock answered and went on reading in the slave’s file.
“Um... what about...,” John pointed towards the slave who was still standing in the middle of the room facing away from them.
Fill: He loves you (1b/?)
anonymous
August 21 2011, 22:46:42 UTC
“I don’t need him at the moment,” Sherlock replied.
“Sherlock, they taught me at Sandhurst that you have to talk to your men,” John whispered.
“He’s not a soldier, see him as a part of your equipment,” Sherlock answered.
“There’re lots of soldiers who talk to their gun,” John replied.
Sherlock groaned and put the file away. He stood up and moved closer to the still waiting slave.
“Turn back,” he ordered. “My name’s Sherlock Holmes, my husband is Dr John Watson. We’re your new owners. You’ll always address us as ‘Master’. You won’t speak without permission. If you have to speak nevertheless, you’ll ask politely. We expect obedience at any time. Disobedience and mistakes will be punished. Now...”
“Sherlock, I don’t want to be addressed as ‘Master’. I’m used to be addressed as ‘Sir’, ‘Major’ or ‘Doctor’,” John said. “And he’ll live with us; he’d just call me ‘John’.”
“Of course not,” Sherlock replied. “Slaves need rules and structures. He’s not an equal and you can’t treat him like that. You’ll only confuse him. He has to know his place; it’s much easier for him. Trust me, slaves don’t work like soldiers. I know how to handle them. We always had some of them at home.”
“Okay, okay, I trust you, but I don’t want to be called ‘Master’,” John answered.
“You’ll address me as ‘Master’ and my husband as ‘Sir’ at any times. Do you understand?” Sherlock said.
“Yes, Master,” the slave answered immediately.
“What’s in the box?” John asked, because the slave was still holding it in front of his chest. “Your personal stuff?”
The slave wanted to answer, but Sherlock was faster.
“Slaves don’t have personal stuff, John. They’re only allowed to use the things their owners provide,” Sherlock said.
“Okay, so what’s inside?” he repeated.
“I don’t know, Sir. Mr Holmes ordered me to carry it, Sir,” he answered.
“Place it on the coffee table, I’ll check it later,” Sherlock said and the slave hurried to obey.
“What’s your name?” John asked him.
“My name’s Lestrade, Sir,” he replied.
John was confused that the slave was still avoiding eye contact. But he had already learnt that Lestrade knew more about the rules than he did.
“Are slaves forbidden to seek eye contact? I’d prefer it if he looked at me,” John asked.
“Mostly,” Sherlock answered. “I don’t want him to stare, it’s distracting.”
“If you talk to me, you’ll look at me,” John said. “But if you talk to Sherlock, you won’t look at him. Got it?”
“Yes, Sir,” Lestrade replied.
Sherlock wasn’t paying attention anymore so John felt that he had to deal with their slave now.
“I have to store all this stuff. I’ll be upstairs in the bedroom. Take a laundry basket, there’s one in the kitchen, and bring me everything bit by bit,” he ordered.
“Yes, Sir,” Lestrade answered and went to work.
“Well?” he asked.
“Not bad,” Sherlock answered. “But you’re still too nice.”
“I won’t treat him like an object,” John said.
“Just treat him like a slave,” Sherlock answered and went on reading the file.
John frowned, nodded slowly, and followed Lestrade upstairs.
Fill: He loves you (2a/?)
anonymous
August 23 2011, 15:00:45 UTC
John was able to store everything, but it wasn’t easy. Obviously their flat was full. And John still had no idea where to storeLestrade. He rubbed his face, yawned, and suddenly remembered that Lestrade was still standing next to him, motionless since he had brought the last items upstairs.
“Is Lestrade your given name?” he asked. “I ask, because it’d be very unusual.”
“No, it’s my family name, Sir,” Lestrade answered.
“What is your given name?” he asked, because Lestrade didn’t seem willing to offer more information than necessary.
“It’s Gregory, Sir,” the slave answered, his eyes moved down to the floor and back to John’s face, because he didn’t seem used to look at his master.
“We could call you Gregory, if you preferred that,” John said.
“I don’t prefer it!” he replied quickly and a bit too loud. “Sir.”
“No need to be angry. Just a suggestion,” John said and Lestrade calmed down visibly. “Any special reason why you prefer your family name?”
“My second owner allowed me to choose and I decided that I prefer my family name, Sir,” he answered.
“And why?” John asked and rolled his eyes.
“Because my first owner called me Gregory and I hate him, Sir,” Lestrade replied aggressively.
“I’m trying to get to know you a bit more,” John answered. “No need to lose your temper. Just offer me a few more details and I don’t have to ask again and again. Okay?”
“I’m sorry, Sir,” Lestrade answered. “I was trained to give short answers, Sir.”
“Oh, right,” John said. “Is that a standard rule?”
“Yes, Sir,” Lestrade answered.
“I see,” John said. “I had no idea.”
He closed the wardrobe that he had stuffed with a huge amount of things forcefully and watched it warily for a moment. The doors didn’t open again. That wasn’t too bad, but he didn’t forget that they had to get rid of lots of stuff. Lestrade’s rumbling stomach interrupted his thoughts.
“When did you last eat?“
“I got breakfast in Mr. Holmes’ house, Sir,” Lestrade answered.
John gazed at his watch, listened to his own empty stomach, and decided that it was about time to have dinner. He told Lestrade to follow him and they climbed down the stairs again. Downstairs Sherlock wasn’t reading the file anymore; he was in his thinking pose and didn’t seem to notice their return. John knew that he of course did, but he didn’t show it.
“Take a seat,” he ordered and didn’t notice that Lestrade eyed him carefully.
“Slaves never use their master’s furniture,” Sherlock said. “Let him prepare dinner; he’s trained for it.”
“Um... okay,” John answered; they idea to leave chores to someone else didn’t sound too bad.
He wanted to leave the kitchen, but remembered that he had to introduce Lestrade to some very important details.
“You have to know our kitchen security system,” he said. “Sherlock has lots of nasty stuff in here. Never open any containers labelled as his. And be careful with every other stuff, too. It maybe looks like flour or water, but it could be something else. If you’re not perfectly sure about it, ask. Got it?“
„Yes, Sir,“ Lestrade replied. „May I ask what you wish to have for dinner, Sir?“
“Just look what’s left and show me what you can do,” John answered and left the kitchen to sit down next to Sherlock.
“What do you think about him?” John asked.
“He’s interesting,” Sherlock answered. “His first owner was highly abusive and didn’t teach him anything useful, just housekeeping. Dull. His second owner taught him everything in which I’m interested in. He sold him because of Lestrade’s age. He was still an expensive present, because of his training. I won’t tell him, but Mycroft made a very good choice.”
“It explains why he doesn’t like questions about his former owners,” John replied. “It annoyed him.”
“What did he do?” Sherlock asked sharply.
“Nothing. He was just a bit angry with me,“ John answered.
Fill: He loves you (2b/?)
anonymous
August 23 2011, 15:02:31 UTC
Sherlock dashed to the kitchen, grabbed Lestrade’s collar and pulled at it forcefully.
“Do something like that ever again and you’ll regret it,” he said with his most dangerous voice. “You’ll answer every question. Patiently and politely. And don’t you dare to play games with my husband. If you try to take advantage of his inexperience with slaves, you’ll regret it as well.”
Sherlock let go of him after a last glare and returned to the living room.
“You can’t tolerate such behaviour, John,” Sherlock said.
“I’ll watch and learn,” John sighed and stroked through Sherlock’s hair soothingly.
Sherlock sprawled across the sofa like a cat and encouraged John to go on.
“Sherlock,” John said. “There’s more bad news. We have to clear out the flat.”
“Whatever you like, but don’t take any of my stuff,” Sherlock mumbled.
“Well, 95% in here is your stuff, it’ll be pointless to tidy up mine,” John answered.
“But I need my things,” Sherlock replied stubbornly.
“You don’t need everything. You still have diskettes and no drive to read them. And all those boxes in your bedroom, I think you deleted their contents ages ago,” John said and kissed Sherlock lightly.
“Unfair,” Sherlock replied. “You’re cheating. You know that I’m not able to object when you kiss me.”
“I just ask for a bit of help and a promise that you’ll at least consider to get rid of some things,” John answered with a smile.
“I promise,” Sherlock said but sulked nevertheless.
“If we’re successful, you’ll be able to use your bedroom as a laboratory,” John replied. “That’s what you always wanted. We only sleep in mine anyway.”
“You didn’t want me to have a laboratory before,” Sherlock answered surprised.
“Well, it’d be a laboratory for you, storage space for both of us, and your old bed for Lestrade,” John said.
“I don’t want him in my laboratory,” Sherlock grouched.
“Then you can keep the kitchen and he’ll get the room,” John answered.
“You’re worse than Mycroft,” Sherlock sulked. “I agree.”
“We need to get him some clothes, too,” John said. “And toiletries.”
“Hm,” Sherlock answered. “We can order it online.”
“Don’t forget to ask him what he likes,” John said.
“Who cares? I want him in much tighter clothes anyway,” Sherlock replied.
John sighed but didn’t reply. He continued stroking Sherlock’s hair. It was already too good to be true that he had gotten Sherlock to agree to help him with clearing out and their new room system.
He saw that Sherlock had opened Mycroft’s box.
“What did he send?” he asked.
“A little extra. Some nice toys,” Sherlock answered with a grin. “He has an excellent taste.”
“Toys?” John asked. “Oh, I see. I don’t think that I want to know.”
They chuckled and John peered carefully, but he didn’t open it.
They both startled because of a sudden scream. They rushed into the kitchen and found a paled Lestrade staring at one of Sherlock’s experiments which hadn’t been stored in a secure container.
“It’s unlabeled,” John said and gave Sherlock a disapproving glance.
“Put it back,” Sherlock ordered. “And don’t scream again. You’re not a little girl.”
“There’s food in the fridge, Master,” Lestrade said. “I’ve never seen something as disgusting as this. It shouldn’t be in the fridge.”
“Put it back,” Sherlock bellowed. “I don’t think that you’re allowed to discuss my decisions. And you forgot to call me Master. Finish your task; we’ll talk about your misconducts later.”
Lestrade hurried to obey. It was obvious that he was scared. John wanted to interfere, but he trusted that Sherlock knew better what to do. Lestrade was right, their fridge contained highly questionable material, but John had found out that it was a manageable risk.
“What do you want to do with him?” he asked.
“He deserves a punishment,” Sherlock answered. “I warned him before.”
“Don’t be too cruel. Everything’s new for him,” John replied.
“He’s experienced. That’s no excuse,” Sherlock said. “Do you want to watch?”
Re: Fill: He loves you (2b/?)
anonymous
August 23 2011, 16:10:32 UTC
Wow since I love the Dom/sub 'verse so much I thought I try that slave verse business, and you're a hell of a writer because you're a making me feel so much rage! I know that this universe slavery is fine and all but i really want Lestrade to take a rusty knife and gut Sherlock so bad and since he's going for broke he should go after Watson too, at least Sherlock doesn't believe slaves are people i am not sure John thinks that but he still goes along quite gladly.
I say this again, you're really good even if I'm the only one who wants the slavers to be murdered ;)
Re: Fill: He loves you (2b/?)
anonymous
August 23 2011, 20:45:04 UTC
I'm loving this so far. Sherlock and John's relationship is adorable and my heart breaks for poor Lestrade. It's only been minutes and he's already scared of Sherlock (but then, what slave wouldn't be?). Am excited for more!
Fill: He loves you (3a/?)
anonymous
August 24 2011, 16:50:24 UTC
It was a delicious dinner but awkward, too. It was very strange for John that Sherlock and he ate while Lestrade stood in a corner, his head bowed, and patiently waiting for them to finish. Sherlock had dismissed John’s question whether Lestrade shouldn’t eat with them with a simple glance.
“What is the standard procedure?” John asked.
“Slaves always wait,” Sherlock answered.
“Right,” John said and turned to Lestrade. “Take whatever you like. You can help me with the shopping tomorrow. We’ll talk about food in detail then. I want you to drink regularly. Make sure that you have a glass of water or a cup of tea or whatever you prefer every hour. You didn’t drink all day. That’s not healthy.”
“Yes, Sir,” Lestrade answered.
“Who cares?” Sherlock replied. “He has to eat whatever we....”
“What about food allergies?” John said.
“His file says nothing about such a thing,” Sherlock sighed.
“I think I already understand enough of slave ownership to assume that most owners wouldn’t care. And they wouldn’t put it in his file, would they?” John answered.
“They wouldn’t” Sherlock admitted.
“But I care and I won’t force him to eat things that’ll harm him. And I don’t want him to eat things that he doesn’t like. It’s unnecessary,” John stated and turned to Lestrade again. “We can discuss things you dislike at Tesco’s. Do you have any allergies?”
“Um... I don’t think so, Sir,” Lestrade replied hesitantly.
They finished their dinner in silence and left the washing up to Lestrade. John sat down in his favourite chair and waited for Sherlock to start whatever punishment he had in mind. Sherlock obviously waited for Lestrade to finish his own dinner and his chores.
“You could straighten your room up a bit. Maybe you don’t want him to sleep close to some of your stuff,” John suggested.
“John,” Sherlock complained. “He doesn’t need a bed today. There’s plenty of room in the kitchen.”
“He would be in your way, if you decided to work there later,” John answered.
“You are worse than Mycroft,” Sherlock replied fondly and left the room.
John could hear him rummage in his furniture; Sherlock seemed to carry several piles of things to their bedroom which was John’s former bedroom. John didn’t dare to think about how it would look like now; he was glad that Sherlock did what he had asked for. Sherlock returned after almost half an hour, sat down on John’s lap, and kissed him passionately.
“I expect a reward later,” he murmured. “So much fuss. Just for a slave.”
“Will you still deserve a reward when I see our bedroom?” John asked playfully.
“Of course, you told me to make room for him and I did it,” Sherlock answered. “You didn’t tell me what to do in our room.”
“Bugger!” John said. “We WILL tidy up our flat tomorrow.”
“There could be a case,” Sherlock answered and kissed John again.
“If there’s a case, it’ll have to wait,” John replied.
“Right,” without looking over his shoulder Sherlock had noticed that Lestrade had finished his chores and was now waiting. “Please don’t interfere. He deserves a punishment and I have to test his skills.”
John nodded and steeled himself for whatever Sherlock would do.
Sherlock stood in the middle of the room and watched Lestrade closely.
“Stand here,” he ordered and pointed at the floor right in front of him.
Lestrade obeyed without hesitation. Sherlock put two fingers under his chin and pushed until Lestrade faced him. The slave’s eyes still rested on the carpet.
“Look into my eyes,” Sherlock said.
This time it took him a second until he responded. Sherlock pinched his chin warningly and John was able to see that Lestrade was looking into his lover’s eyes soon after.
“Undress,” Sherlock ordered. “Fold your clothes, arrange them in a neat pile, and put them on the coffee table. Then resume your position.”
John wondered why it was clearly easier for Lestrade to undress in front of strangers than to look into Sherlock’s eyes. He didn’t seem to care that he was naked; he didn’t try to cover his body and returned to Sherlock immediately. Sherlock didn’t move during the time Lestrade needed to finish his task.
“Two steps back,” Sherlock said and waited until Lestrade stood in his new position. “Put your hands behind your head.”
Fill: He loves you (3b/?)
anonymous
August 24 2011, 16:53:04 UTC
John was now able to look at Lestrade’s naked body in detail; again he concluded that the slave looked gorgeous. He was slender and muscled in all the right places. His skin was tanned; his hair was silver, strands of dark hair were still visible. His brown eyes were staring in Sherlock’s. John opened Lestrade’s file and checked that he remembered his age correctly; he did, Lestrade was 48 and so he was older than John and way older than Sherlock. But it didn’t matter. He was incredibly attractive and whoever had sold him because of his age must be a complete moron. John’s gaze moved further down and he found out that Lestrade also had a... very nice cock.
Sherlock and Lestrade were still staring at each other; for a second John thought that he saw a challenge in Lestrade’s eyes, but he wasn’t sure. Sherlock went to their desks and took John’s ruler; it was long, wooden and heavy for such a thin instrument. He circled Lestrade slowly and examined him closely. Lestrade swallowed when Sherlock began to stroke the ruler across his skin softly. He didn’t look scared; even if he had been afraid when Sherlock had yelled at him earlier.
“Count,” Sherlock ordered and placed the first stroke on Lestrade’s left shoulder blade.
Lestrade twitched, but he didn’t leave his position.
“One, Master,” he said.
Sherlock hit his right shoulder blade with more power and forced Lestrade to hiss quietly.
“Two, Master,” he said quickly.
The four next strokes hit Lestrade’s buttocks and the back of his thighs. They seemed to hurt more than the first stroke, but they didn’t make him hiss. Sherlock circled Lestrade again and stood in front of him. He stroked the ruler across Lestrade’s chest, especially his nipples, but he didn’t hit them and went for the front of Lestrade’s thighs instead. Lestrade counted them and remained perfectly still.
Sherlock stopped in front of Lestrade and held the ruler close to his lips.
“Kiss it,” he ordered and showed a pleased grin when Lestrade obeyed immediately.
He placed a hand on the slave’s cheek and caressed him.
“What did you learn?” Sherlock asked.
Lestrade swallowed and John thought that he saw that little challenging sparkle again, but Lestrade answered politely.
“I have to address you as ‘Master’,” he said. “I’m not allowed to scream because of something I found in the kitchen and I have to obey without questioning your decision. I have to follow your husband’s orders, Master.”
“You’re allowed to thank me,” Sherlock said.
“Thank you, Master,” Lestrade answered; this time his dislike was clearly audible, but Sherlock didn’t address it.
“Very good,” Sherlock said and took his hand away. “Turn around; John wants to see your back. He doesn’t need medication, love. But I know that you want to make sure.”
John smiled at his lover before he checked Lestrade’s skin. He saw wide, red stripes, but they didn’t need any treatment.
“Well done, it’s okay,” he said and Sherlock bowed slightly.
Sherlock closed his hand around Lestrade’s arm and turned him back. He stepped so close to him that his clothes were touching Lestrade’s naked skin. Sherlock told him to drop his hands.
“That’s it. I think you already figured out where we want you to sleep,” Sherlock said. “You’re allowed to ask for your clothes in the morning. There’s a spare toothbrush in the bathroom. You may go.”
“Yes, Master,” Lestrade stammered.
Lestrade hurried to get out. John took a deep breath and watched his intrigued husband.
“That was... I don’t know. Strange?” he said.
“Was it?” Sherlock replied. “It was what I expected. You should read his complete file. He’s trained for things like that. It’ll be fun to use him. You can trust Mycroft’s taste. I’m sure that he tested him before he bought him; I’ll ask Lestrade tomorrow.”
“Mycroft shares your interest in kink?” John asked disbelievingly.
“Of course,” Sherlock answered. “Sometimes even Mycroft is interesting.”
Sherlock sat down on John’s lap and they kissed again. John noticed that Sherlock was hard; it wasn’t a surprise. He moaned when Sherlock pressed the bulge in his trousers. The entire spectacle had fascinated him far more than he wanted to admit.
Sherlock just smiled and continued to look through a file which had appeared in the middle of the presents some minutes ago.
“What’s it?” John asked. “Did somebody give you a case? I’ve never seen case files with red ribbons.”
“It isn’t a case. It’s another present. Should be here in an hour,” Sherlock replied.
“I hope it’s small. I already don’t know how to store everything,” John answered.
“It’s about 5' 11" and rather flexible,” Sherlock replied.
“What?” John asked and went to join Sherlock on the sofa. “That’s a file about a slave. How...?”
“It’s Mycroft’s present. He gave us a house-slave. I think Mummy told him that it’d be a good idea. I agree,” Sherlock said and pulled John close to kiss him.
“A house-slave?” John asked later. “Why would we need a slave?”
“Your family didn’t own slaves, did they?” Sherlock answered. “They’re useful. They can do all the boring stuff. Some of them are trained for special duties.”
“Well, it sounds useful, but it’s strange to own somebody,” John replied. “I’m not used to it.”
“Just order him around like a soldier. Should be easy for you,” Sherlock said.
“We don’t have a room for him,” John said. “It’ll be very complicated to have him here.”
“It won’t. They’re undemanding,” Sherlock answered. “No need to worry about it.”
“Well, we’ll see. Is there anything special about him?” John asked.
“Of course, Mycroft wouldn’t give us something ordinary. He’s perfectly trained in housekeeping and every type of sexual activity,” Sherlock answered.
“He’s what?” John coughed, grabbed the file, and read it himself.
“I think Mummy and Mycroft want to make sure that we have everything we need. It’s good to have somebody who does the chores for you. You’ll have much more time for me and it’ll be better for your shoulder,” Sherlock explained. “And it’s perfectly logical that I’ll use his other training.”
“You want to...” John started but didn’t finish.
“You always allow me to satisfy my special needs elsewhere. Do you object now?” Sherlock asked with a very confused expression. “It’ll be very useful to have a slave here. I won’t have to go out anymore and you could watch.”
“I don’t think that I want to watch. No, I don’t object. I know that you need it, love. And I can’t do it. It’s okay. But it’s a strange thought that you’d do it with a slave,” John answered. “I don’t know. You’d have to force him.”
“Thanks, love,” Sherlock said and kissed him. “It’s our right to do whatever we want with him. You’ll get used to it. He’s trained for it and he’s experienced. It’d be unnecessary to force him. But I hope he’s rebellious; that’s more interesting.”
A few minutes later Mrs. Hudson opened the front door and let Mycroft in. Mycroft was accompanied by a slave, their new slave. John had to admit that the man looked stunning. He wore a simple white shirt, black trousers, black shoes, and a wide black collar around his neck. He carried a box, held his head slightly bowed, and looked at the floor right in front of his shoes.
“I thought I’d deliver him in person,” Mycroft said.
“Thank you, Mycroft. That’s... um it’s very generous to give us a slave,” John stammered.
“You’re very welcome, John,” Mycroft answered. “I don’t think that Sherlock can bring himself to admit that he likes him, but I know that he’ll find him very entertaining.”
“Turn around, slave,” Sherlock ordered in a voice John only knew as his interrogation voice.
The slave followed the order immediately and John was able to find out that his backside was very appealing as well.
“He’s suitable,” Sherlock answered and gave Mycroft a bored look.
“You’ll find out that he’s amazingly well trained. I chose him myself. I’m sorry that I have to leave so soon, but duty calls,” Mycroft said and shook John’s hand.
“I can’t stand him every day,” Sherlock moaned after Mycroft had left their flat.
“You can never stand him,” John answered.
“True,” Sherlock answered and went on reading in the slave’s file.
“Um... what about...,” John pointed towards the slave who was still standing in the middle of the room facing away from them.
Reply
“Sherlock, they taught me at Sandhurst that you have to talk to your men,” John whispered.
“He’s not a soldier, see him as a part of your equipment,” Sherlock answered.
“There’re lots of soldiers who talk to their gun,” John replied.
Sherlock groaned and put the file away. He stood up and moved closer to the still waiting slave.
“Turn back,” he ordered. “My name’s Sherlock Holmes, my husband is Dr John Watson. We’re your new owners. You’ll always address us as ‘Master’. You won’t speak without permission. If you have to speak nevertheless, you’ll ask politely. We expect obedience at any time. Disobedience and mistakes will be punished. Now...”
“Sherlock, I don’t want to be addressed as ‘Master’. I’m used to be addressed as ‘Sir’, ‘Major’ or ‘Doctor’,” John said. “And he’ll live with us; he’d just call me ‘John’.”
“Of course not,” Sherlock replied. “Slaves need rules and structures. He’s not an equal and you can’t treat him like that. You’ll only confuse him. He has to know his place; it’s much easier for him. Trust me, slaves don’t work like soldiers. I know how to handle them. We always had some of them at home.”
“Okay, okay, I trust you, but I don’t want to be called ‘Master’,” John answered.
“You’ll address me as ‘Master’ and my husband as ‘Sir’ at any times. Do you understand?” Sherlock said.
“Yes, Master,” the slave answered immediately.
“What’s in the box?” John asked, because the slave was still holding it in front of his chest. “Your personal stuff?”
The slave wanted to answer, but Sherlock was faster.
“Slaves don’t have personal stuff, John. They’re only allowed to use the things their owners provide,” Sherlock said.
“Okay, so what’s inside?” he repeated.
“I don’t know, Sir. Mr Holmes ordered me to carry it, Sir,” he answered.
“Place it on the coffee table, I’ll check it later,” Sherlock said and the slave hurried to obey.
“What’s your name?” John asked him.
“My name’s Lestrade, Sir,” he replied.
John was confused that the slave was still avoiding eye contact. But he had already learnt that Lestrade knew more about the rules than he did.
“Are slaves forbidden to seek eye contact? I’d prefer it if he looked at me,” John asked.
“Mostly,” Sherlock answered. “I don’t want him to stare, it’s distracting.”
“If you talk to me, you’ll look at me,” John said. “But if you talk to Sherlock, you won’t look at him. Got it?”
“Yes, Sir,” Lestrade replied.
Sherlock wasn’t paying attention anymore so John felt that he had to deal with their slave now.
“I have to store all this stuff. I’ll be upstairs in the bedroom. Take a laundry basket, there’s one in the kitchen, and bring me everything bit by bit,” he ordered.
“Yes, Sir,” Lestrade answered and went to work.
“Well?” he asked.
“Not bad,” Sherlock answered. “But you’re still too nice.”
“I won’t treat him like an object,” John said.
“Just treat him like a slave,” Sherlock answered and went on reading the file.
John frowned, nodded slowly, and followed Lestrade upstairs.
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@OP: How old is your Lestrade? Any preferences?
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I am very fond of Lestrade as he is on the show, so let's go with as close to RG's actual age (48) as you'd like to make him.
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Me, too. <3
I'll use that in part 3. I'm glad that you like it so far.
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“Is Lestrade your given name?” he asked. “I ask, because it’d be very unusual.”
“No, it’s my family name, Sir,” Lestrade answered.
“What is your given name?” he asked, because Lestrade didn’t seem willing to offer more information than necessary.
“It’s Gregory, Sir,” the slave answered, his eyes moved down to the floor and back to John’s face, because he didn’t seem used to look at his master.
“We could call you Gregory, if you preferred that,” John said.
“I don’t prefer it!” he replied quickly and a bit too loud. “Sir.”
“No need to be angry. Just a suggestion,” John said and Lestrade calmed down visibly. “Any special reason why you prefer your family name?”
“My second owner allowed me to choose and I decided that I prefer my family name, Sir,” he answered.
“And why?” John asked and rolled his eyes.
“Because my first owner called me Gregory and I hate him, Sir,” Lestrade replied aggressively.
“I’m trying to get to know you a bit more,” John answered. “No need to lose your temper. Just offer me a few more details and I don’t have to ask again and again. Okay?”
“I’m sorry, Sir,” Lestrade answered. “I was trained to give short answers, Sir.”
“Oh, right,” John said. “Is that a standard rule?”
“Yes, Sir,” Lestrade answered.
“I see,” John said. “I had no idea.”
He closed the wardrobe that he had stuffed with a huge amount of things forcefully and watched it warily for a moment. The doors didn’t open again. That wasn’t too bad, but he didn’t forget that they had to get rid of lots of stuff. Lestrade’s rumbling stomach interrupted his thoughts.
“When did you last eat?“
“I got breakfast in Mr. Holmes’ house, Sir,” Lestrade answered.
John gazed at his watch, listened to his own empty stomach, and decided that it was about time to have dinner. He told Lestrade to follow him and they climbed down the stairs again. Downstairs Sherlock wasn’t reading the file anymore; he was in his thinking pose and didn’t seem to notice their return. John knew that he of course did, but he didn’t show it.
“Take a seat,” he ordered and didn’t notice that Lestrade eyed him carefully.
“Slaves never use their master’s furniture,” Sherlock said. “Let him prepare dinner; he’s trained for it.”
“Um... okay,” John answered; they idea to leave chores to someone else didn’t sound too bad.
He wanted to leave the kitchen, but remembered that he had to introduce Lestrade to some very important details.
“You have to know our kitchen security system,” he said. “Sherlock has lots of nasty stuff in here. Never open any containers labelled as his. And be careful with every other stuff, too. It maybe looks like flour or water, but it could be something else. If you’re not perfectly sure about it, ask. Got it?“
„Yes, Sir,“ Lestrade replied. „May I ask what you wish to have for dinner, Sir?“
“Just look what’s left and show me what you can do,” John answered and left the kitchen to sit down next to Sherlock.
“What do you think about him?” John asked.
“He’s interesting,” Sherlock answered. “His first owner was highly abusive and didn’t teach him anything useful, just housekeeping. Dull. His second owner taught him everything in which I’m interested in. He sold him because of Lestrade’s age. He was still an expensive present, because of his training. I won’t tell him, but Mycroft made a very good choice.”
“It explains why he doesn’t like questions about his former owners,” John replied. “It annoyed him.”
“What did he do?” Sherlock asked sharply.
“Nothing. He was just a bit angry with me,“ John answered.
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“Do something like that ever again and you’ll regret it,” he said with his most dangerous voice. “You’ll answer every question. Patiently and politely. And don’t you dare to play games with my husband. If you try to take advantage of his inexperience with slaves, you’ll regret it as well.”
“Yes, Master,” Lestrade stammered. “I’m sorry; it won’t happen again, Master.”
Sherlock let go of him after a last glare and returned to the living room.
“You can’t tolerate such behaviour, John,” Sherlock said.
“I’ll watch and learn,” John sighed and stroked through Sherlock’s hair soothingly.
Sherlock sprawled across the sofa like a cat and encouraged John to go on.
“Sherlock,” John said. “There’s more bad news. We have to clear out the flat.”
“Whatever you like, but don’t take any of my stuff,” Sherlock mumbled.
“Well, 95% in here is your stuff, it’ll be pointless to tidy up mine,” John answered.
“But I need my things,” Sherlock replied stubbornly.
“You don’t need everything. You still have diskettes and no drive to read them. And all those boxes in your bedroom, I think you deleted their contents ages ago,” John said and kissed Sherlock lightly.
“Unfair,” Sherlock replied. “You’re cheating. You know that I’m not able to object when you kiss me.”
“I just ask for a bit of help and a promise that you’ll at least consider to get rid of some things,” John answered with a smile.
“I promise,” Sherlock said but sulked nevertheless.
“If we’re successful, you’ll be able to use your bedroom as a laboratory,” John replied. “That’s what you always wanted. We only sleep in mine anyway.”
“You didn’t want me to have a laboratory before,” Sherlock answered surprised.
“Well, it’d be a laboratory for you, storage space for both of us, and your old bed for Lestrade,” John said.
“I don’t want him in my laboratory,” Sherlock grouched.
“Then you can keep the kitchen and he’ll get the room,” John answered.
“You’re worse than Mycroft,” Sherlock sulked. “I agree.”
“We need to get him some clothes, too,” John said. “And toiletries.”
“Hm,” Sherlock answered. “We can order it online.”
“Don’t forget to ask him what he likes,” John said.
“Who cares? I want him in much tighter clothes anyway,” Sherlock replied.
John sighed but didn’t reply. He continued stroking Sherlock’s hair. It was already too good to be true that he had gotten Sherlock to agree to help him with clearing out and their new room system.
He saw that Sherlock had opened Mycroft’s box.
“What did he send?” he asked.
“A little extra. Some nice toys,” Sherlock answered with a grin. “He has an excellent taste.”
“Toys?” John asked. “Oh, I see. I don’t think that I want to know.”
They chuckled and John peered carefully, but he didn’t open it.
They both startled because of a sudden scream. They rushed into the kitchen and found a paled Lestrade staring at one of Sherlock’s experiments which hadn’t been stored in a secure container.
“It’s unlabeled,” John said and gave Sherlock a disapproving glance.
“Put it back,” Sherlock ordered. “And don’t scream again. You’re not a little girl.”
“There’s food in the fridge, Master,” Lestrade said. “I’ve never seen something as disgusting as this. It shouldn’t be in the fridge.”
“Put it back,” Sherlock bellowed. “I don’t think that you’re allowed to discuss my decisions. And you forgot to call me Master. Finish your task; we’ll talk about your misconducts later.”
Lestrade hurried to obey. It was obvious that he was scared. John wanted to interfere, but he trusted that Sherlock knew better what to do. Lestrade was right, their fridge contained highly questionable material, but John had found out that it was a manageable risk.
“What do you want to do with him?” he asked.
“He deserves a punishment,” Sherlock answered. “I warned him before.”
“Don’t be too cruel. Everything’s new for him,” John replied.
“He’s experienced. That’s no excuse,” Sherlock said. “Do you want to watch?”
“I think I should,” John replied.
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I say this again, you're really good even if I'm the only one who wants the slavers to be murdered ;)
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I'm enjoying this very much! I hope he won't be too hard on his slave.
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“What is the standard procedure?” John asked.
“Slaves always wait,” Sherlock answered.
“Right,” John said and turned to Lestrade. “Take whatever you like. You can help me with the shopping tomorrow. We’ll talk about food in detail then. I want you to drink regularly. Make sure that you have a glass of water or a cup of tea or whatever you prefer every hour. You didn’t drink all day. That’s not healthy.”
“Yes, Sir,” Lestrade answered.
“Who cares?” Sherlock replied. “He has to eat whatever we....”
“What about food allergies?” John said.
“His file says nothing about such a thing,” Sherlock sighed.
“I think I already understand enough of slave ownership to assume that most owners wouldn’t care. And they wouldn’t put it in his file, would they?” John answered.
“They wouldn’t” Sherlock admitted.
“But I care and I won’t force him to eat things that’ll harm him. And I don’t want him to eat things that he doesn’t like. It’s unnecessary,” John stated and turned to Lestrade again. “We can discuss things you dislike at Tesco’s. Do you have any allergies?”
“Um... I don’t think so, Sir,” Lestrade replied hesitantly.
They finished their dinner in silence and left the washing up to Lestrade. John sat down in his favourite chair and waited for Sherlock to start whatever punishment he had in mind. Sherlock obviously waited for Lestrade to finish his own dinner and his chores.
“You could straighten your room up a bit. Maybe you don’t want him to sleep close to some of your stuff,” John suggested.
“John,” Sherlock complained. “He doesn’t need a bed today. There’s plenty of room in the kitchen.”
“He would be in your way, if you decided to work there later,” John answered.
“You are worse than Mycroft,” Sherlock replied fondly and left the room.
John could hear him rummage in his furniture; Sherlock seemed to carry several piles of things to their bedroom which was John’s former bedroom. John didn’t dare to think about how it would look like now; he was glad that Sherlock did what he had asked for. Sherlock returned after almost half an hour, sat down on John’s lap, and kissed him passionately.
“I expect a reward later,” he murmured. “So much fuss. Just for a slave.”
“Will you still deserve a reward when I see our bedroom?” John asked playfully.
“Of course, you told me to make room for him and I did it,” Sherlock answered. “You didn’t tell me what to do in our room.”
“Bugger!” John said. “We WILL tidy up our flat tomorrow.”
“There could be a case,” Sherlock answered and kissed John again.
“If there’s a case, it’ll have to wait,” John replied.
“Right,” without looking over his shoulder Sherlock had noticed that Lestrade had finished his chores and was now waiting. “Please don’t interfere. He deserves a punishment and I have to test his skills.”
John nodded and steeled himself for whatever Sherlock would do.
Sherlock stood in the middle of the room and watched Lestrade closely.
“Stand here,” he ordered and pointed at the floor right in front of him.
Lestrade obeyed without hesitation. Sherlock put two fingers under his chin and pushed until Lestrade faced him. The slave’s eyes still rested on the carpet.
“Look into my eyes,” Sherlock said.
This time it took him a second until he responded. Sherlock pinched his chin warningly and John was able to see that Lestrade was looking into his lover’s eyes soon after.
“Undress,” Sherlock ordered. “Fold your clothes, arrange them in a neat pile, and put them on the coffee table. Then resume your position.”
John wondered why it was clearly easier for Lestrade to undress in front of strangers than to look into Sherlock’s eyes. He didn’t seem to care that he was naked; he didn’t try to cover his body and returned to Sherlock immediately. Sherlock didn’t move during the time Lestrade needed to finish his task.
“Two steps back,” Sherlock said and waited until Lestrade stood in his new position. “Put your hands behind your head.”
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Sherlock and Lestrade were still staring at each other; for a second John thought that he saw a challenge in Lestrade’s eyes, but he wasn’t sure. Sherlock went to their desks and took John’s ruler; it was long, wooden and heavy for such a thin instrument. He circled Lestrade slowly and examined him closely. Lestrade swallowed when Sherlock began to stroke the ruler across his skin softly. He didn’t look scared; even if he had been afraid when Sherlock had yelled at him earlier.
“Count,” Sherlock ordered and placed the first stroke on Lestrade’s left shoulder blade.
Lestrade twitched, but he didn’t leave his position.
“One, Master,” he said.
Sherlock hit his right shoulder blade with more power and forced Lestrade to hiss quietly.
“Two, Master,” he said quickly.
The four next strokes hit Lestrade’s buttocks and the back of his thighs. They seemed to hurt more than the first stroke, but they didn’t make him hiss. Sherlock circled Lestrade again and stood in front of him. He stroked the ruler across Lestrade’s chest, especially his nipples, but he didn’t hit them and went for the front of Lestrade’s thighs instead. Lestrade counted them and remained perfectly still.
Sherlock stopped in front of Lestrade and held the ruler close to his lips.
“Kiss it,” he ordered and showed a pleased grin when Lestrade obeyed immediately.
He placed a hand on the slave’s cheek and caressed him.
“What did you learn?” Sherlock asked.
Lestrade swallowed and John thought that he saw that little challenging sparkle again, but Lestrade answered politely.
“I have to address you as ‘Master’,” he said. “I’m not allowed to scream because of something I found in the kitchen and I have to obey without questioning your decision. I have to follow your husband’s orders, Master.”
“You’re allowed to thank me,” Sherlock said.
“Thank you, Master,” Lestrade answered; this time his dislike was clearly audible, but Sherlock didn’t address it.
“Very good,” Sherlock said and took his hand away. “Turn around; John wants to see your back. He doesn’t need medication, love. But I know that you want to make sure.”
John smiled at his lover before he checked Lestrade’s skin. He saw wide, red stripes, but they didn’t need any treatment.
“Well done, it’s okay,” he said and Sherlock bowed slightly.
Sherlock closed his hand around Lestrade’s arm and turned him back. He stepped so close to him that his clothes were touching Lestrade’s naked skin. Sherlock told him to drop his hands.
“That’s it. I think you already figured out where we want you to sleep,” Sherlock said. “You’re allowed to ask for your clothes in the morning. There’s a spare toothbrush in the bathroom. You may go.”
“Yes, Master,” Lestrade stammered.
Lestrade hurried to get out. John took a deep breath and watched his intrigued husband.
“That was... I don’t know. Strange?” he said.
“Was it?” Sherlock replied. “It was what I expected. You should read his complete file. He’s trained for things like that. It’ll be fun to use him. You can trust Mycroft’s taste. I’m sure that he tested him before he bought him; I’ll ask Lestrade tomorrow.”
“Mycroft shares your interest in kink?” John asked disbelievingly.
“Of course,” Sherlock answered. “Sometimes even Mycroft is interesting.”
Sherlock sat down on John’s lap and they kissed again. John noticed that Sherlock was hard; it wasn’t a surprise. He moaned when Sherlock pressed the bulge in his trousers. The entire spectacle had fascinated him far more than he wanted to admit.
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Thank for your comments, anons. <3
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Anyway, still enjoying this very much!
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