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Sherlock wasn’t sure whether he’d been tied up and milked for minutes, hours or days. His throat felt parched whilst the rest of his body was drenched with sticky sweat and cum, but his Master didn’t seem to be tiring of this most welcome abuse of the detective’s body. He'd been playing with Sherlock all day, forcing one milked prostate orgasm after another from his shivering body; he had been allowed a small respite when Master had untied his hands and rubbed the sore muscles back to full working order, however, Sherlock had been surprised to be locked into his chastity cage whilst John left the flat to buy more toys. Sherlock had griped and complained half-heartedly until John gave his best Captain glare, which promptly shut the detective’s mouth. Sherlock had napped contentedly until being awoken by a sharp slap to the arse and a deep giggle by John as he opened the cage.
Which is how he came to be in this position; on his back with his hands tied to the headboard of the bed, whilst his legs were forced apart by a spreader bar. Sherlock groaned and whimpered as John slowly pushed the prostate massager inside him; despite their power games, John always ensured that the toys were properly lubed and Sherlock was ready for their intrusion. The doctor had insisted on constant communication and a series of safe words to make sure Sherlock was able to continue playing their game.
Sherlock’s nipples ached from the clamps and chain which rested against his pale, sweaty chest. The prostate massager buzzed inside him, forcing more and more precum over his lower stomach, leaving a wet trail across gooseflesh covered skin, John had secured his favourite metal cock ring around Sherlock’s twitching shaft, the tip red and angry from hours of neglect.
The detective was aching to cum; hours of constant prostate stimulation had his cock aching with need. The added praise heaped on by his Master had also done nothing to quell his arousal, and Sherlock was sure he could feel his heartbeat in the tight skin of his cock as John continued whispering sweet endearments into the shell of the detective’s ear.
“You look so fucking good Sherlock, so fucking pretty and wet for me,” John whispered, giving Sherlock’s neglected cock a long stroke. “I love your gorgeous moans and whimpers. I want you to cry out my name when I finally let you cum.”
“Y-yes, Daddy,” Sherlock keened desperately, his mind clouded with exhaustion and desperation.
“There’s my good boy,” John smiled, running his hand through the wild curls which had frizzed with the mixture of heat and sweat. “But Daddy has a bigger surprise for you.”
“W-What is it,?” Sherlock asked tentatively, his eyebrows knitted together with confusion as he looked at John holding a simple plastic cup in his thick callused hand.
“You know it’s a milking day,” John continued, stroking Sherlock’s neck and down his shoulder to the nipple clamps (giving them a rough flick for good measure) and wrapping his hand around Sherlock’s deep red cock. “But I have a special plan especially for today.”
“Y-Yes, Daddy,” Sherlock gasped, desperately bucking his hips into John’s hand and receiving a sharp slap on the thigh as a warning.
John moved to the head of the bed, untying Sherlock from his bondage and pressing a kiss on the top of Sherlock’s crown as he helped the detective turn onto his hands and knees in the middle of the bed. His nipple clamps hung low and his leaking cock dripped onto the bedding beneath as John stroked a hand down Sherlock’s side as if stroking a skittish horse.
“My good, clever boy,” John soothed. “You’ve been so good for Daddy today.”
John switched off the prostate massager, watching Sherlock’s head fall forward in relief from the buzzing pest which had tormented him for an eternity. John removed the toy and pushed his fingers into the slick and stretched hole, enjoying the sensation of Sherlock desperately attempting to close his muscled ring around his thick fingers.
The Master sat on the edge of the mattress and looked over at the debauched sub beneath him. He looked perfect when he was like this; his pupils blown black with arousal and his hair a messy black halo. His whole body shuddered with each breath whilst his cock continued to leak, causing John to tut and run his finger over the weeping slit, collecting the precum on his digit and pressing it into Sherlock’s open mouth. Sherlock moaned and bucked, desperate for friction on his cock. John placed the cup beneath Sherlock’s cock and pulled off the metal cock ring and nipple clamps, watching enraptured as small drops began to immediately fill the plastic beaker. He moved around the bed and pushed his fingers back into Sherlock’s slightly tightened hole, making the detective gasp and hiss with sensitivity as John sought out the sensitive nub of Sherlock’s prostate, his doctor instincts finding it easily and efficiently as he circled and stimulated the bud from the inside and wormed his hand between Sherlock’s thighs, wrapping a hand around Sherlock’s cock and moving in a steady rhythm as he continued probing Sherlock’s arse.
“Da-Da-DADDY!” Sherlock screamed, his eyes rolling back in his head as hours of torturous denial came to an end and he began to unleash the largest load of his life into the beaker. Rope after rope of red hot cum entered the cup until Sherlock was sure that he had no fluid left in his body.
Sherlock’s legs wobbled dramatically; thankfully John had noticed and grabbed the beaker before it could be upended by Sherlock’s slow-motion collapse onto the bedding, his chest heaving with the desperate need to breathe. John raised his eyebrow and held the cup as he continued prodding Sherlock’s oversensitive prostate over and over.
“We’re not finished,” John insisted in his no-nonsense tone of voice, forcing Sherlock out of his blissful dreamlike state.
“Sorry daddy,” Sherlock whispered, attempting to climb to his knees.
John ensured that Sherlock was stable before returning the cup and replacing his hand on Sherlock’s cock, stroking at the same frantic pace as he had been before Sherlock came. Sherlock hissed with over sensitivity, the sensations rushing through his body causing tingles to erupt up his spine.
“Sherlock,” John warned. “If you spill the cup, we have to start all over again.”
Sherlock tensed and nodded his understanding, staying valiantly still until he felt the second orgasm building from his toes. It wasn’t going to be as intense as the first but the pleasant rush still ran through each nerve as he froze and gasped a warning before his second load was pulled from him. His groans soon turned to whimpers as John continued stroking, his sensitive skin burning with too much sensation as John crooned and whispered into his ear.
“Good boy, you’re so clever, my darling boy. Come for me again Sherlock, let it all out, my darling love,” John whispered, his clever fingers coaxing another two orgasms from Sherlock’s exhausted body which soon had the detective broken and whimpering beneath his lover, hardly able to keep himself upright but forcing himself to comply with his daddy’s orders.
John finally allowed Sherlock a rest when his fifth orgasm was completely dry and the detective wailed with oversensitivity and beautiful agony. John removed his fingers from Sherlock’s hole and collected the cup, placing it on the bedside table before allowing Sherlock to lie on his side, his whole body trembling.
Sherlock felt John’s cock slide into his abused hole but he was too pliant and exhausted to whine anymore; he desperately wanted to be fucked by his daddy. He wanted to be filled up by his daddy’s creamy cum and feel it slipping down his used hole onto the sweaty bedding beneath. His body was relaxed and sated as John pushed inside, his hands bringing one of Sherlock’s legs up over his good shoulder whilst the other traced calming circles onto Sherlock’s clammy skin as he thrust again and again, trying absent-mindedly to avoid Sherlock’s mistreated prostate. Sherlock hummed his pleasure at the punishing rhythm of John’s thrusts and watched enraptured as John reached his peak, his face going slack and his eyes closing tightly as he grunted and thrust shakily one final time before filling Sherlock with his release, painting the younger man’s insides white with his cum as Sherlock’s muscles milked him.
“I’m going to pull out, you know what to do,” John insisted, stroking a hand through Sherlock’s curls as the detective nodded.
John slowly removed himself from Sherlock, watching the younger man clench his muscles so none of the milky essence could leak from him. John quickly moved himself from his position at the bottom of the bed to pick up his newest accessories before returning with the cup and toys.
Sherlock watched with wide eyes as John squeezed hard on the Turkey baster (at least that’s what it looked like) and sucked up the viscous liquid from the cup and slowly, gently squirted the cool cum into Sherlock’s hole. Sherlock gasped at the deviant behaviour and blushed as he felt himself getting filled with his thick load. John groaned and pushed a finger inside, feeling the warmth of Sherlock mixed with both of their cum.
“Fuck, so sexy,” John growled before grabbing the large anal plug and inserting it as gently as possible, listening for Sherlock’s hisses of pain but finding none. The toy was fully in place, allowing Sherlock to relax his muscles and feel the newest sensation.
“J-John,” Sherlock panicked, his eyes wide and unseeing as he reached for his lover.
“It’s okay baby, I’m here,” John soothed, moving to lay beside his partner and pulling the taller man to lay on his broad chest. “Daddy’s here.”
Sherlock whimpered and allowed John to press kisses onto his head as his fingers stroked calming patterns onto pale skin. “You were such a good boy. So proud of you. Always so clever for his Daddy,” John whispered, watching Sherlock’s eyes flutter closed as he rocked and soothed the exhausted man against his chest, humming a lullaby quietly.
“Wake up sleepy head.” John smiled, rubbing a finger over Sherlock’s cheekbone. “Lestrade called. We have a case.”
Sherlock hmphed his disapproval before cracking open his eye and looking at John. “Where is it on the scale?”
“About a 5,” John admitted, “but I really want you to go to the crime scene full of our cum.”
Sherlock was silent for a short while before grinning and slowly moving his legs to the edge of the mattress. “I suppose I'd better put pants on.”