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Hacked	By : SoftPurpleSherlockian Category: S through Z > Sherlock (BBC) > Sherlock (BBC) Views: 4354 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock or any of the characters and am making no money off of this story.

Chapter List
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It was only when John’s body started screaming in protest that he remembered to breathe. His phone gave a small vibration that was hardly felt, he didn’t bother reading the message, he knew it was Sherlock letting him know that he was leaving the flat. Sherlock, his mind screamed. God, what the fuck was he going to do? He focused all of his attention on the email on the screen that he was currently holding in his palm, rereading the words that were now seared into his brain.
To: HolmesS_Detective@outlook.co.uk
From: WatsonJH@outlook.co.uk
Subject: Good Boy
Body:
You did well at dinner the other night, pet. You know I noticed how good you were and that you did exactly as you were told. You know how happy it makes me to see you eat, Sherlock. You should do it more often, if not out of any sense of hunger then to please me at the very least. I know you wanted dessert after cleaning your plate; you were so hard under the table I could practically feel the air vibrating with your arousal. You would have loved to go back to the flat and concluded your meal with a mouthful of come, wouldn’t you? You do so enjoy being on your knees in front me, the bedroom is the only place you ever give up control, and you love it.
If you continue to be good, then I promise I’ll allow you to have it next time. I hope you’re paying attention Sherlock, because I’m going to tell you exactly what’s going to happen, and if you don’t follow the rules completely, I’ll walk out of the room and leave you on your knees all night long, do you understand?
You’re going to start by slowly stroking my shaft, which will already be hard for you. You’re going to gently roll each ball in your mouth before sliding your lips teasingly upward along my entire length, feeling every ridge and vein on the underside of my cock across your tongue. Before you reach the tip, you’re going to go back down to the base and repeat the process several times, enjoying every inch of me. When precome starts to form, you’re going to slide your tongue across the head and lick up every single drop. You’re going to focus all of your attention on the tip of my cock, gently sucking and licking only the first few inches before taking me into your mouth. Make sure you’re relaxed; I want to be able to feel myself against the back of your throat.
You know what’s going to happen next, don’t you? This is the part you love. I’m going to wrap my fists in your hair, I’m going to pull hard enough to make you whimper and moan, and then I’m going to fuck your face, Sherlock. Make sure you keep yourself relaxed; I don’t want you gagging around me. You’re going to have tears streaming down your face from trying to fight the reflex, do you have any idea how much that sight is going to push me closer to the edge? I’m not going to give you any warning as to when I’m going to come, I won’t need to. Cocky bastard that you are, you’ll know. You’re going to be ready for it, and when I finally explode in your mouth, you’re going to swallow every drop. I’m not going to push to the back of your throat, no, I’m going to come all over your tongue and you’re going to taste every bit of it, and know that if you spill so much as a drop I will not touch you, nor will I allow you to pleasure yourself.
And you’ll thank me.

Your Doctor
John was at a loss for words as he sat in the back of the cab. He only had a few moments to decide what he was going to do or how he was going to react - they would be pulling up at the station soon and he would be face to face with the man who had just given him a raging hard on. He sat back and willed his erection to go away as he tried to process what he had just read. Was this some kind of experiment? Had Sherlock worked it out and was now trying to prove his hypothesis right? John didn’t think he’d given anything away and replayed the last few days back in his mind only to draw the same conclusion he had before, he’d been very careful. So what the hell was going on?
He refreshed the page and the e-mail disappeared. He stared at the phone and rubbed his face as he frantically tried to locate the message. Fucking phone! I’m going to throw it out of the window, he thought as he continued hitting various icons. Everything else was right where is should be, not a single e-mail was out of place. Nothing was missing except the message he was just reading, it wasn’t in the sent or deleted folders. Giving up all hope of retrieving it, he turned the screen off and returned the device to his pocket. He had no doubts that the message was gone, deleted by the sender before heading out to meet John at the station.
The doctor was used to Sherlock solving problems, so as he sat faced with one, he didn’t know what to do. He could confront the man, demanding an explanation, or he could ignore it, pretend that the whole thing never happened. Given his choices, neither seemed like the right thing to do. There was another option, the little voice in his head reminded him, and no sooner than he’d squashed the thought did it pop into his mind again. He had to admit, the notion held more than a little appeal.
The taxi pulled up to the kerb across from the station, after paying the fare and giving the cabbie a rather generous tip, John stepped out into the street with a smile on his face. He could make out the silhouette of his flatmate by the entrance of the building - he had his back to him, but John knew that it wouldn’t make any difference. Sherlock would be able to tell the second John got close, hell, he was probably already aware of how many steps away he was. As soon as he got within arm’s reach the detective turned slightly towards him, and John had to catch his breath. The late evening sun was casting a shadow across Sherlock’s face, making every feature that much more prominent. I really could look at this man all day long, John smiled as he met Sherlock’s eyes. In that instant, John knew what he wanted to do; whatever reservations were left had flown out of the window the second he had laid his eyes on the man in front of him. He kept his eyes hard, never once leaving the other man’s. Usually John would get flustered under the detectives probing stare, shifting away from the gaze before Sherlock could pick him apart. This time was different though, John wasn’t playing the role of doctor and flatmate, right now he was in soldier mode and he held Sherlock’s stare with his own until he saw the faintest twitch come from the detective. Sherlock finally broke the contact and fixed his stare towards the double doors in front of them.
“Shall we?” Sherlock asked, and John stepped forward to enter the building before the other man had a chance to move, forcing the detective to follow him inside.
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