Watson's Confession.

By Alia - 2008

Disclaimer: The characters depicted below do not belong to me.

Summary: Watson confesses the gift of submission.

Rating: R

Author's Notes: This ficlet was written for the slash 100 community on live journal. Thanks to Mareel for checking this over for me. Australian spelling contained within. All mistakes are my own; please feel free to point them out if you find one.

Comments: Are welcome and can be sent to aliajones1999@yahoo.com


I must confess that the first time I found myself bound to Holmes's bed, naked and completely at his mercy; I thought only to free myself. Straining against my bonds I sought freedom through the only terms available to me. Begging and pleading that he see reason, ends his game of torture, and release me forthwith.

It was not to be of course, Holmes had made up his mind and nothing I could say or threaten would sway him from his path until his research had been completed. The results of which I dared not contemplate for fear of complete and utter corruption, lost for all times in the fiery pits of hell and damnation as he calmly produced a jar of liniment and an oblong shaped object which I had not seen before.

Although I was no stranger to the great detectives bed by this time it was clear on this occasion that all past encounters would pale in comparison. I opened my mouth to protest the instrument lying beside me only to have one of my friend's cravats fastened around my head, silencing me for the duration of what was about to occur.

Whatever Holmes intentions it was evident he planned to at least unman me. Somehow through my foolishness I had unwittingly become his prey and for what seemed like hours I was forced to endure the manipulation of my body in the most unspeakable and exquisite ways imaginable.

In the end I had no other choice than to succumb to his torment, admit my weakness for his skilled hands and mouth and release my issue down his waiting throat.

Sated beyond clear recollection and finally free of my restraints it was only sometime after Holmes had left me to consider the findings of his experiment that I realised the real gift he had given me. The freedom to simply accept and enjoy the attention he bestowed upon me -- the pleasure of receiving without the responsibility or necessity of providing consent.

Of course there have been other attempts at intimate experimentation over of the years of our friendship; many have been enjoyable, some enlightening, but none I confess, hold the same fond memories as the first.



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