Holmes fic: Care and Feeding
This one went in an odd direction, and that's about all I can say about that. Oh, except this: apparently it's been over a year since I last wrote explicit sexytimes, which explains why I feel out of practice! So consider this fair warning that there may be some cheesy cliches near the end. ;)
Title: Care and Feeding
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Holmes/Watson
Wordcount: ~2,150
Warning: dub-con
Summary: Watson carries out a threat to tie Holmes down and feed him.
A/N: Written for the "restrained" square on my hc_bingo card. Also written for the shkinkmeme prompt: Watson loves eavesdropping on what's going on inside Holmes' body. So Watson feeds/stuffs Holmes and then listens to him digest via stethoscope.
Also, this was written with a prop from SH2 in mind, though timeline-wise I would think this is more pre-movies.
"Holmes, if you don't eat I swear I will tie you up and force-feed you." That was what he'd said three days ago. This morning he'd come downstairs to find Holmes still motionless on the settee and his exasperation prompted him to make good on his threat.
After eating a good breakfast and making a few preparations, Watson set to work.
It was trivially easy to chloroform Holmes and drag him to the examination table. Working quickly, he stripped off Holmes' clothing and bound him to the table, then stepped back to admire his handiwork.
Holmes was blindfolded. A rope bound his upper body to the inclined portion of the table, wrapped several times around his chest and under his armpits. His arms hung down on either side, his wrists tied to the front legs of the table. Another rope was wrapped low around his hips and ran under the table. His legs were parted so his lower legs straddled the table, his ankles tied to the back legs of the table. His knees were also tied to the back legs and another rope circled the table and ran over his legs just above the knee so he wouldn't get any ideas about squirming loose.
Watson retrieved his stethoscope and listened carefully to Holmes' stomach and intestines; with his irregular eating habits, it wouldn't be out of the question for him to have difficulties with his digestion as food was reintroduced. For now there were no irregularities, but he would have to pay close attention so his plans did not cause Holmes undue discomfort. Though he would certainly deserve any discomfort he felt.
When Holmes began to stir, Watson held a glass of water to his lips until he drank it all. Holmes licked his lips as he removed the glass and said, "Watson."
"Yes, it's me. I hope you're hungry. You won't be moving until you've had at least three full meals' worth of food."
Holmes smirked and began testing his bonds. "Is that so?"
Watson picked up the riding crop and trailed it along Holmes' inner thigh. "Yes, and I am prepared to ensure your cooperation."
Holmes stilled and his breathing hitched slightly. "That doesn't seem quite fair, Doctor."
"It isn't," Watson admitted freely. "But I warned you three days ago. You had plenty of time to decide to behave. And it's for your own good, Holmes."
"We'll see about that."
Watson didn't answer and Holmes didn't try to continue the conversation. They sat in awkward silence for nearly an hour, at which point Watson rose from his chair and again donned his stethoscope. This time the cup he pressed upon Holmes contained chicken broth. Holmes did not resist and Watson rewarded him by stroking his jaw and brushing his forehead with a brief kiss.
Holmes' fists were clenched when Watson drew away and returned to his seat nearby. "All right there, Holmes?" Watson asked lightly.
Holmes scowled in response.
Watson sat back and read the morning's papers to pass the time. Near the conclusion of another hour, he again rose and listened to Holmes' insides in preparation for the next step. This time Holmes progressed from liquids to a small dish of applesauce. Watson carefully fed him each spoonful, and again Holmes behaved himself. His reward was Watson's tongue briefly teasing one of his nipples.
Holmes just barely held back his whimper.
For the following hour Watson took pity on Holmes and read the papers aloud to give him something to think about. When it came time for Holmes' next feeding, Watson was pleased to hear Holmes' stomach growling with hunger. Mrs. Hudson knocked on the door right on schedule and delivered both his lunch and Holmes'. Watson ate his sandwich with one hand while feeding Holmes the sweet, milky porridge with the other.
Holmes did not try to hide his eagerness for every bite and Watson ended up giving him every drop in the bowl despite his original plan to only make him eat half. When Holmes was finished, Watson had him drink some water as well, then leaned over and kissed him lightly on the lips while one hand rubbed Holmes' stomach.
Holmes' head rose up off the table as he tried to follow when Watson drew away, and he huffed in frustration when his restraints held him in place.
They continued in this manner for the rest of the afternoon, with an hour's break between food items and Watson always listening to and enjoying the sounds of Holmes' digestion before offering the newest dish. Over the course of the hours, Holmes consumed a bowl of buttery mashed potatoes drowning in gravy, two scrambled eggs and a pile of bacon, and two apples sliced into at least a dozen pieces each. Watson guessed that the apples and bacon were Holmes' favorites, as Watson used his mouth rather than his fingers to give them to Holmes.
Then it was teatime, and with it came the usual fare: small sandwiches, scones, several kinds of biscuits, and strawberries with cream accompanied the teapot. Watson compelled Holmes to try one of each kind of food that was present, along with two cups of tea. When the first strawberry was presented to him, Holmes put up resistance for the first time that day, turning his head and protesting, "I feel like I'm going to burst."
"Three strawberries and you'll be done until dinner," Watson promised. "You really are doing very well, and you'll be rewarded if you do as I say for a few hours more."
Holmes sighed but opened his mouth, chewing obediently until Watson finished feeding him six strawberries. Watson consoled him by kissing him deeply and at length, running his hands over Holmes' sides and abdomen, imagining that he could feel the fullness of Holmes' stomach. Holmes writhed beneath his hands, his breath coming in gasps.
Watson let Holmes be for a while after that and conferred with Mrs. Hudson about dinner, confident that Holmes would not manage to escape his restraints even without his presence in the room. As soon as he stepped back into the room, Holmes said desperately, "Watson, I need to go."
Watson wasn't going to untie him even to use the restroom, so he retrieved a chamber pot and helped Holmes relieve himself. Holmes seemed almost docile when he was finished. Watson cleaned up, then spent a while listening to the gurglings in Holmes' stomach, fascinated by the shift in sounds as the food made its way through the digestive tract. Things seemed to be moving along quite nicely; Holmes would be more than ready for dinner at the usual time.
It was three and a half hours between the conclusion of teatime and the commencement of dinner and Watson did not waste a moment of it. In addition to his chat with Mrs. Hudson, he shifted a table closer to Holmes' perch to make it easier to accommodate the food that would be coming and prepared for Holmes' reward, should he earn it. Holmes, on the other hand, appeared to doze for much of the time, lying unresisting in his bonds and his head lolling.
Mrs. Hudson knocked on the sitting room door precisely at eight o'clock. Watson took the tray from her and took it to where Holmes was waiting. It was not quite what would be considered a standard dinner, but suited his purposes perfectly: a rich beef stew with dumplings, green beans swimming in butter, and hot buttered rolls comprised the main of the meal, with custard for dessert.
Watson started Holmes slowly with a few green beans a time; when butter dripped onto Holmes' chest, he licked it off. Only once those were finished (and he'd eaten his own fair share in the process), did he start on the stew, carefully scooping a little bit of dumpling onto the spoon along with a chunk of potato or carrot or beef. Holmes ate readily and so did Watson, until they'd consumed over half of the portion provided.
At that point, Watson switched over to the rolls, tearing pieces off and slipping them between Holmes' lips or idly eating them himself while Holmes chewed. After they'd eaten two rolls apiece, Watson switched back to the stew, carefully scraping the dregs from the bowl and painting Holmes' lips with the gravy when he was slow to open his mouth.
Watson was beginning to feel rather full himself by the time the stew was gone, but he doggedly continued on. Holmes objected when he felt the touch of the spoon on his lower lip. "I couldn't possibly--" he started, and Watson slipped a bit of custard in as he spoke. "--oh, that's good," Holmes said hesitantly.
"Just a little bit," Watson coaxed, encouraging Holmes by brushing his fingers over Holmes' nipples.
Between them they managed to eat nearly two-thirds of the custard before Holmes outright refused to take any more. Watson did not blame him in the slightest; on the contrary, he thought Holmes had done exceedingly well. He set the bowl aside and kissed Holmes briefly before saying in a low voice, "I believe you have earned your reward."
He put his mouth to first one, then the other nipple, nipping and licking while Holmes groaned. He caressed Holmes' stomach--now distended ever so slightly from his large meal--and gently brushed the soft skin of his inner thighs and in the creases of his legs. Holmes' cock was red and weeping and Holmes wailed when Watson took it into his mouth.
Watson's teasing over the course of the day had gotten him so worked up that it was only a few moments before he climaxed, moaning as he came.
Holmes was still twitching in his restraints when Watson removed his trousers and readied himself for the second part of Holmes' reward. He cut the ropes binding Holmes' knees, ankles, and hips, then knelt on the table between Holmes' legs.
Watson leaned forward and kissed Holmes deeply, his hands straying to Holmes' torso, stroking his sides and resting gently on Holmes' swollen stomach. When Holmes sighed and kissed Watson desperately in return, Watson reached over to the table for the bottle of oil. He slicked his hands and slid one between Holmes' legs, the other settling on Holmes' hip.
Holmes gasped when Watson's fingers found his hole and began circling and working their way in and out. Holmes' cock began to stiffen again as Watson's fingers moved freely within him, and Watson took that as his cue. He moved forward so Holmes's legs cradled his waist and sank deep within him in one movement.
It was a somewhat awkward position, not suited for vigorous thrusting, but their hips rocking against each other served quite admirably to sweep Watson ever closer to climax and to wring groans from Holmes. The world went white and the only sound was the blood rushing in his ears as he came.
When Watson regained his sight, he found that Holmes had come again and was now utterly limp beneath him. Watson carefully climbed down from the table and cut Holmes' remaining bonds, then removed his blindfold.
Holmes squinted against the sudden light. "Watson," he murmured.
"You all right, Holmes?" Watson asked, donning his stethoscope for one last check on Holmes' innards. Somehow he found the noises pleasing and he wasn't quite sure what that said about him.
"I am horribly full," Holmes complained as he awkwardly tried to sit up.
"Maybe that will teach you to eat more regularly," Watson countered, placing the stethoscope around his neck and helping Holmes slide off the examination table.
"I don't know about that."
"Then I'll just have to do it again sometime," Watson said with a smirk. Holmes quickly retreated from the room and Watson let him go. He was already planning for the next time.
And so, apparently, was Holmes. It was barely a fortnight before Holmes was again ignoring the food on the table in favor of whatever he happened to be doing at the time. When Watson commented on his absence at the dinner table, Holmes taunted, "Are you going to do something about it, Doctor?"
"I just might," Watson said nonchalantly.
Holmes smirked and continued about his business.
Watson plotted and schemed and four days later he resolved to act. This time, Holmes made him work for it and Watson had to wrestle him into submission. Even so, it was too easy--Holmes evidently wanted to cooperate or Watson never would've managed to tie him down.
Once Holmes was restrained and blindfolded, Watson leaned over and spoke into Holmes' ear. "If you wanted me to feed you, all you had to do was ask."
Holmes grinned and tugged against the ropes. "I think we both prefer the challenge."
Watson wasn't sure he agreed, but if it was a challenge Holmes wanted, that he could certainly provide.
Title: Care and Feeding
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Holmes/Watson
Wordcount: ~2,150
Warning: dub-con
Summary: Watson carries out a threat to tie Holmes down and feed him.
A/N: Written for the "restrained" square on my hc_bingo card. Also written for the shkinkmeme prompt: Watson loves eavesdropping on what's going on inside Holmes' body. So Watson feeds/stuffs Holmes and then listens to him digest via stethoscope.
Also, this was written with a prop from SH2 in mind, though timeline-wise I would think this is more pre-movies.
"Holmes, if you don't eat I swear I will tie you up and force-feed you." That was what he'd said three days ago. This morning he'd come downstairs to find Holmes still motionless on the settee and his exasperation prompted him to make good on his threat.
After eating a good breakfast and making a few preparations, Watson set to work.
It was trivially easy to chloroform Holmes and drag him to the examination table. Working quickly, he stripped off Holmes' clothing and bound him to the table, then stepped back to admire his handiwork.
Holmes was blindfolded. A rope bound his upper body to the inclined portion of the table, wrapped several times around his chest and under his armpits. His arms hung down on either side, his wrists tied to the front legs of the table. Another rope was wrapped low around his hips and ran under the table. His legs were parted so his lower legs straddled the table, his ankles tied to the back legs of the table. His knees were also tied to the back legs and another rope circled the table and ran over his legs just above the knee so he wouldn't get any ideas about squirming loose.
Watson retrieved his stethoscope and listened carefully to Holmes' stomach and intestines; with his irregular eating habits, it wouldn't be out of the question for him to have difficulties with his digestion as food was reintroduced. For now there were no irregularities, but he would have to pay close attention so his plans did not cause Holmes undue discomfort. Though he would certainly deserve any discomfort he felt.
When Holmes began to stir, Watson held a glass of water to his lips until he drank it all. Holmes licked his lips as he removed the glass and said, "Watson."
"Yes, it's me. I hope you're hungry. You won't be moving until you've had at least three full meals' worth of food."
Holmes smirked and began testing his bonds. "Is that so?"
Watson picked up the riding crop and trailed it along Holmes' inner thigh. "Yes, and I am prepared to ensure your cooperation."
Holmes stilled and his breathing hitched slightly. "That doesn't seem quite fair, Doctor."
"It isn't," Watson admitted freely. "But I warned you three days ago. You had plenty of time to decide to behave. And it's for your own good, Holmes."
"We'll see about that."
Watson didn't answer and Holmes didn't try to continue the conversation. They sat in awkward silence for nearly an hour, at which point Watson rose from his chair and again donned his stethoscope. This time the cup he pressed upon Holmes contained chicken broth. Holmes did not resist and Watson rewarded him by stroking his jaw and brushing his forehead with a brief kiss.
Holmes' fists were clenched when Watson drew away and returned to his seat nearby. "All right there, Holmes?" Watson asked lightly.
Holmes scowled in response.
Watson sat back and read the morning's papers to pass the time. Near the conclusion of another hour, he again rose and listened to Holmes' insides in preparation for the next step. This time Holmes progressed from liquids to a small dish of applesauce. Watson carefully fed him each spoonful, and again Holmes behaved himself. His reward was Watson's tongue briefly teasing one of his nipples.
Holmes just barely held back his whimper.
For the following hour Watson took pity on Holmes and read the papers aloud to give him something to think about. When it came time for Holmes' next feeding, Watson was pleased to hear Holmes' stomach growling with hunger. Mrs. Hudson knocked on the door right on schedule and delivered both his lunch and Holmes'. Watson ate his sandwich with one hand while feeding Holmes the sweet, milky porridge with the other.
Holmes did not try to hide his eagerness for every bite and Watson ended up giving him every drop in the bowl despite his original plan to only make him eat half. When Holmes was finished, Watson had him drink some water as well, then leaned over and kissed him lightly on the lips while one hand rubbed Holmes' stomach.
Holmes' head rose up off the table as he tried to follow when Watson drew away, and he huffed in frustration when his restraints held him in place.
They continued in this manner for the rest of the afternoon, with an hour's break between food items and Watson always listening to and enjoying the sounds of Holmes' digestion before offering the newest dish. Over the course of the hours, Holmes consumed a bowl of buttery mashed potatoes drowning in gravy, two scrambled eggs and a pile of bacon, and two apples sliced into at least a dozen pieces each. Watson guessed that the apples and bacon were Holmes' favorites, as Watson used his mouth rather than his fingers to give them to Holmes.
Then it was teatime, and with it came the usual fare: small sandwiches, scones, several kinds of biscuits, and strawberries with cream accompanied the teapot. Watson compelled Holmes to try one of each kind of food that was present, along with two cups of tea. When the first strawberry was presented to him, Holmes put up resistance for the first time that day, turning his head and protesting, "I feel like I'm going to burst."
"Three strawberries and you'll be done until dinner," Watson promised. "You really are doing very well, and you'll be rewarded if you do as I say for a few hours more."
Holmes sighed but opened his mouth, chewing obediently until Watson finished feeding him six strawberries. Watson consoled him by kissing him deeply and at length, running his hands over Holmes' sides and abdomen, imagining that he could feel the fullness of Holmes' stomach. Holmes writhed beneath his hands, his breath coming in gasps.
Watson let Holmes be for a while after that and conferred with Mrs. Hudson about dinner, confident that Holmes would not manage to escape his restraints even without his presence in the room. As soon as he stepped back into the room, Holmes said desperately, "Watson, I need to go."
Watson wasn't going to untie him even to use the restroom, so he retrieved a chamber pot and helped Holmes relieve himself. Holmes seemed almost docile when he was finished. Watson cleaned up, then spent a while listening to the gurglings in Holmes' stomach, fascinated by the shift in sounds as the food made its way through the digestive tract. Things seemed to be moving along quite nicely; Holmes would be more than ready for dinner at the usual time.
It was three and a half hours between the conclusion of teatime and the commencement of dinner and Watson did not waste a moment of it. In addition to his chat with Mrs. Hudson, he shifted a table closer to Holmes' perch to make it easier to accommodate the food that would be coming and prepared for Holmes' reward, should he earn it. Holmes, on the other hand, appeared to doze for much of the time, lying unresisting in his bonds and his head lolling.
Mrs. Hudson knocked on the sitting room door precisely at eight o'clock. Watson took the tray from her and took it to where Holmes was waiting. It was not quite what would be considered a standard dinner, but suited his purposes perfectly: a rich beef stew with dumplings, green beans swimming in butter, and hot buttered rolls comprised the main of the meal, with custard for dessert.
Watson started Holmes slowly with a few green beans a time; when butter dripped onto Holmes' chest, he licked it off. Only once those were finished (and he'd eaten his own fair share in the process), did he start on the stew, carefully scooping a little bit of dumpling onto the spoon along with a chunk of potato or carrot or beef. Holmes ate readily and so did Watson, until they'd consumed over half of the portion provided.
At that point, Watson switched over to the rolls, tearing pieces off and slipping them between Holmes' lips or idly eating them himself while Holmes chewed. After they'd eaten two rolls apiece, Watson switched back to the stew, carefully scraping the dregs from the bowl and painting Holmes' lips with the gravy when he was slow to open his mouth.
Watson was beginning to feel rather full himself by the time the stew was gone, but he doggedly continued on. Holmes objected when he felt the touch of the spoon on his lower lip. "I couldn't possibly--" he started, and Watson slipped a bit of custard in as he spoke. "--oh, that's good," Holmes said hesitantly.
"Just a little bit," Watson coaxed, encouraging Holmes by brushing his fingers over Holmes' nipples.
Between them they managed to eat nearly two-thirds of the custard before Holmes outright refused to take any more. Watson did not blame him in the slightest; on the contrary, he thought Holmes had done exceedingly well. He set the bowl aside and kissed Holmes briefly before saying in a low voice, "I believe you have earned your reward."
He put his mouth to first one, then the other nipple, nipping and licking while Holmes groaned. He caressed Holmes' stomach--now distended ever so slightly from his large meal--and gently brushed the soft skin of his inner thighs and in the creases of his legs. Holmes' cock was red and weeping and Holmes wailed when Watson took it into his mouth.
Watson's teasing over the course of the day had gotten him so worked up that it was only a few moments before he climaxed, moaning as he came.
Holmes was still twitching in his restraints when Watson removed his trousers and readied himself for the second part of Holmes' reward. He cut the ropes binding Holmes' knees, ankles, and hips, then knelt on the table between Holmes' legs.
Watson leaned forward and kissed Holmes deeply, his hands straying to Holmes' torso, stroking his sides and resting gently on Holmes' swollen stomach. When Holmes sighed and kissed Watson desperately in return, Watson reached over to the table for the bottle of oil. He slicked his hands and slid one between Holmes' legs, the other settling on Holmes' hip.
Holmes gasped when Watson's fingers found his hole and began circling and working their way in and out. Holmes' cock began to stiffen again as Watson's fingers moved freely within him, and Watson took that as his cue. He moved forward so Holmes's legs cradled his waist and sank deep within him in one movement.
It was a somewhat awkward position, not suited for vigorous thrusting, but their hips rocking against each other served quite admirably to sweep Watson ever closer to climax and to wring groans from Holmes. The world went white and the only sound was the blood rushing in his ears as he came.
When Watson regained his sight, he found that Holmes had come again and was now utterly limp beneath him. Watson carefully climbed down from the table and cut Holmes' remaining bonds, then removed his blindfold.
Holmes squinted against the sudden light. "Watson," he murmured.
"You all right, Holmes?" Watson asked, donning his stethoscope for one last check on Holmes' innards. Somehow he found the noises pleasing and he wasn't quite sure what that said about him.
"I am horribly full," Holmes complained as he awkwardly tried to sit up.
"Maybe that will teach you to eat more regularly," Watson countered, placing the stethoscope around his neck and helping Holmes slide off the examination table.
"I don't know about that."
"Then I'll just have to do it again sometime," Watson said with a smirk. Holmes quickly retreated from the room and Watson let him go. He was already planning for the next time.
And so, apparently, was Holmes. It was barely a fortnight before Holmes was again ignoring the food on the table in favor of whatever he happened to be doing at the time. When Watson commented on his absence at the dinner table, Holmes taunted, "Are you going to do something about it, Doctor?"
"I just might," Watson said nonchalantly.
Holmes smirked and continued about his business.
Watson plotted and schemed and four days later he resolved to act. This time, Holmes made him work for it and Watson had to wrestle him into submission. Even so, it was too easy--Holmes evidently wanted to cooperate or Watson never would've managed to tie him down.
Once Holmes was restrained and blindfolded, Watson leaned over and spoke into Holmes' ear. "If you wanted me to feed you, all you had to do was ask."
Holmes grinned and tugged against the ropes. "I think we both prefer the challenge."
Watson wasn't sure he agreed, but if it was a challenge Holmes wanted, that he could certainly provide.