Adult-FanFiction.org : Television / Streaming

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
- 1
- 2
- 3
Sherlock laid in bed, waiting for John to leave. As soon as he heard the door open and shut, and footsteps going down the stairs, Sherlock jumped up and crossed his room to the window, where he proceeded to watch John make his way to the other side of the street to flag down a cabbie. He had been eating his words for the last three months, 'I don't see any reason why that should be a problem', He shut his eyes and tried not to think about just how much of a problem it was.
Not that having John around affected cases, quite the contrary. John was a remarkable doctor and Sherlock enjoyed his company. It was a special kind of torture, because as much as the detective craved the presence of Doctor Watson, it was his presence that was maddening.
In every case, John displayed courage and skill that Sherlock found admirable, but with each case they solved, Sherlock was beginning to notice more and more about the the doctor that had him unwillingly and altogether painfully aroused. The feeling brought on a stifling sense of panic, all Sherlock needed was for Anderson or Donovan to see him in that state and he would be, for lack of a better word, fucked. The two dull creatures already thought that Sherlock got off on the really grotesque cases, the last thing he needed was for one of them to spot him with an erection as he gazed longingly upon his doctor bent over a corpse.
Sherlock closed the curtains behind him as he made his way to the kitchen. He was pleasantly surprised to find a cup of tea waiting for him, though, he really shouldn't be surprised anymore - John was always doing things for him. They had an understanding of each other, an understanding that no one else seemed to get. On the outside, Sherlock appeared indifferent to these acts of kindness and anybody else would think him unappreciative, but John Watson knew. He understood that Sherlock didn't know how to convey emotions and he seemed to be okay with that. 'I really should make more of an effort' the detective mused, before his mind drifted over to his latest experiment that was sitting on the ring of the stove.
Sherlock glanced at the clock, ten past ten, John should be at work by now. Sherlock smiled and walked over to the laptop sitting on the corner of John's desk. With tea and laptop in tow, Sherlock made his way to the couch and sat down. He opened a new tab on the browser and went to Johns' email account. It took him 23 seconds exactly to figure out Johns new password, he was getting more creative, but his pattern was still the same, thus making Sherlock's job all the easier.
Sherlock scanned John's new emails, most of it conference invitations and patient files and spam that Sherlock didn't give a second thought to. He clicked on the button to compose a new message.

-------------------------------------------

To: HolmesS_Detective .uk
From: WatsonJH .uk
Subject: Eyes
Body:
Did you really think I was going to let you get away with that, Sherlock? Honestly, eyeballs in a pot on the stove!? What have I told you about having experiments in the kitchen where we keep our food. You knew I was mad as hell, you always know. My anger was evident on my face as soon as I peered into that disgusting pot you left for me to find.
You want this. You want to be punished. Don't sit there and pretend that you don't. Why else would you blatantly ignore the relatively simple request I made? You want me to punish you. Don't worry love, I'm not going to disappoint, and you're going to enjoy every minute of it.
Do you want to know what I have in store for you when I get home? Of course you do. I can almost see you sitting there with that intense gaze in your eyes, your face never leaving the screen, absorbing every word you read. Very well love, pay attention. When I come home, I expect you to be naked on all fours, greeting me at the door. You're going to take my shoes off for me and wait for me to lead you to the sitting room.
Do you know what I'm going to do then Sherlock?
I'm going to whip you. I'm going to leave long red welts down your porcelain back with that riding crop you keep in your wardrobe. Oh yes, I know all about the riding crop. Who did you think you were fooling, claiming it was for the corpses at the morgue? I'm going to strike to 15 times, from shoulder to spine. and you're going to thank me for every single one. Maybe next time you will be more considerate about where you leave your little projects around the house.
You're going to be so hard after I beat you, your cock aching to be touched. I'm not going to though, nor am I going to allow you to touch yourself. Do you know what's going to happen instead, Sherlock? Use that wonderful brain of yours and think.
I'm going to grab a handful of your hair and bring you to your knees. What can you deduce about your current position, love? Yes. You're going to suck my cock. You're going to take me to the back of that beautiful throat of yours and you're going to swallow my entire length. You know how appreciative I am of that marvelous tongue of yours. I'm not going to come in your mouth, you would enjoy that too much. No, when I get close, I'm going to spin you around and slam into you. I'm going to fuck that arse of yours until you beg me to let you come. I'm not going to prep you, it's going to hurt Sherlock, and you're going to love it. You're going to yell and you're going to scream my name. If you expect any mercy from me tonight, there will be none, so I suggest you go into your bedroom and start stretching for me, that's the only kindness I'm going to offer you. Take those elegant fingers of yours and fuck your arse, and remember what's in store for you when I get home.
Your Doctor

----------------------------------

Sherlock pressed the send key, and went about his ritual of deleting all offending evidence from the SENT folder. He closed John's laptop and put it back on the corner of the table, matching the line of dust so it appeared undisturbed.
He made his way up the stairs to John's bedroom, stopping only to collect his own computer along the way. Sherlock stood in the doorway and admired the view that was 100 percent John, from the hospital corners on the bed, to the jumper hanging on the back of the door. He took two steps inside and allowed the familiar scent to invade his senses. Sherlock could get high off of this smell, this mix of soap and cologne and sweat, it was a high that the cocaine never managed to take him to.
He took three strides and was at John's bedside. The detective lay down on the mattress and took a deep breath, his normal perfectly still hands shaking as he opened his own computer on his lap. He clicked the browser icon that would take him to his inbox and when prompted to enter his password, proceeded to type the square root of pi, with the proper letter substitutions in the correct places.
Inbox: 1 New Message
From: WatsonJH .uk
Sherlock tentatively opened the message, as his eyes read over every word he could feel his heart rate quicken and his pupils dilate. With a shaky breath, Sherlock closed the computer and rested his head against the board behind him. His long fingers made their way past the band of his pyjama bottoms and he wrapped his fist around his throbbing cock. He knew this was going to be quick, it always was when Sherlock read a message from His Doctor. He started to stroke from base to tip, using his thumb to spread the precome that had pooled at his overly sensitive head. Images of John flooded his mind as he recalled the words on the screen before him just moments before.
Do you know what I'm going to do then Sherlock?
He squeezed the tip of his cock, allowing the precome that had been beading there to run down his length as he continued to stroke himself.
I'm going to whip you. I'm going to leave long red welts down your porcelain back with that riding crop you keep in your closet.
He threw his head back and imagined each blow of the crop against his skin as his thumb made small circles around the sensitive head of his prick.
You're going to take me to the back of that beautiful throat of yours
Sherlock could feel himself getting close, his balls tightening as he quickened the pace.
I'm going to fuck that ass of yours until you beg me to let you come.
"Please! Please John, I'm going to come. Please?!" Sherlock called out has he spilled into hand.
He laid there and tried to catch his breath, when the familiar nagging feeling of guilt started to creep in, and Sherlock willed it away. He rationalised that this was the closest he would ever be to John Watson, and as long has the doctor remained in the dark, what harm could come from it? Sherlock went through the motions of cleaning himself with the tissues John kept next to his bed, and remade the sheets as neatly as they were before.
He knew that this was all he had, these few hidden emails and stolen moments alone in John's room. John would never find out, this was Sherlock after all, and he was very careful. For a few brief moments, Sherlock could close his eyes and pretend that the words on the screen came from his friend and flat mate. For a few brief moments, he could close his eyes and pretend that John Watson wanted him.
- 1
- 2
- 3
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Hacked