The Middle Distance

A 221B drabble per day (whether it’s a Sherlockian fandom or not), drawn from the kinktober kink list!

Masterlist under the cut after today's drabble!

Day 13: 13. Medical play | Rimming | Titfucking + TENTACLES brought over from the Day 12 list!!

This is a double 221B drabble, set in the same universe as After Me, the Deluge and Filled Afresh With Each Flow (the Johnlockary stories where Mary has tentacles). I threatened to write this very tale during the Everybudders discussion on Three Patch Podcast. I always try to keep my threats.

A Lady’s Enhancements (Sherlock, Mary Watson/Mrs. Hudson)

Mary was already down the stairs and into 221A when she realised her mistake. Hudders was deep into her herbal soothers on her sofa, her demure purple dress hitched up high enough that Mary could see … oh God.

The older woman just laughed. “Oh Mary. Did you think I don’t know what it’s like? All you young folk think these…advances…are beyond the old folks’ ken. Mine aren’t as state-of-the art as yours, I’m sure.” Between her thighs, a cluster of squid-like tentacles writhed slowly. “I know Sherlock went YouTubing for my dancing days. He didn’t tell you what he saw, even with what you three get up to?” Mrs. Hudson clucked sadly. “They do ache though.”

“Oh,” said Mary, feeling the tell-tale twitch in her back that forewarned a release of her own. “Can I help? I am a nurse, after all.”

Mrs. Hudson hmmphed. “Yes, just like I’m a landlady.”

Mary felt the pressure build, and disrobed to save her blouse. Mrs. Hudson’s tentacles were pink and growing darker as she gazed on them, wriggling eagerly as Mary’s own unfolded from her back, thick and grey and balanced like a spider’s legs.

“Oh, they did such a great job on you, my dear. Pity mine are cerise, I’m told that drains me. You’re suited to that slate blue.”

*

“Let me examine you, then.”

Mrs Hudson was rising up slowly, legs opening, her own appendages thickening and stretching. Mary’s enhancements had been made as weapons - only now, safe in the knowledge that John and Sherlock knew and accepted them, had Mary fully grasped how they could be tamed and soothed by sex as a superior substitute to murder.

Mrs Hudson was increasingly attractive; so much more to her than met the eye. Mary bent down, stretching herself over the older woman as her tentacle tips engaged the smaller, pinker mass, those clever sensitive finger-like tendrils reaching out with their sucker undersides. “All seems well,” Mary whispered huskily as their tentacles met and entangled, and two of Mrs Hudson’s reached out and pulled Mary down, pressing her face to Mrs Hudson’s belly as the pink tentacles danced between Mary’s breasts, slick and pinching and pulsing.

Her own blue appendages pushed tips into the soft snakelike mass, and Mrs Hudson cried out in pleasure. Mary kept them moving slowly, as Mary’s hands pushed them together and she slowly struggled to surge her way up Mrs Hudson’s body for a kiss - the one last normal wet probe of her tongue into the taste of weed and tea and seawater - and brought up another one of her own to thrust in Mrs Hudson’s bosom.


( Masterlist 1-12 )

A 221B drabble per day (whether it’s a Sherlockian fandom or not), drawn from the kinktober kink list!

Masterlist under the cut after today's drabble!

Day 11: 11. Sadism/Masochism | Orgasm Denial | Gags (another ALL THREE!)

By Proxy (Sherlock, Mycroft Holmes/Jim Moriarty) (after the last two were Eurus and Sherlock, how could I not let Jim collect the whole set?)


He liked the gags. He liked the way his captors went through several of them trying to get the right fit. He liked the big rubber ball gag best. It didn’t muffle his screams much, were he inclined to scream, which he pretty much only did for effect.

He liked the gags because it let him know they were afraid to let him speak unbidden.

He liked the gags because it made the pretense that they were torturing him for information look completely hollow, even if Big Brother didn’t surely know how much wasted effort it could be to try to break an extreme masochist. Of course, Big Brother was never one for legwork, but that didn’t mean Jim couldn’t almost hear him breathing hard behind those ubiquitous cameras. All the machinery of the state - their trained thuggery, their needles, their delicious, shivery electrostim - oh, The Woman would be green with envy, and this kind of quality agony wasn’t for sale at any price.

He spoke in scratches on the glass of his cell and rapid morse code blinks of his eyes through blood and tears. I can feel how hard you are when you watch, Mycroft. Barely keep your hands out of the bespoke, yeah? You must have balls bluer than your blood if you can’t come until I break.


( Masterlist 1-10 )

A 221B drabble per day (whether it’s a Sherlockian fandom or not), drawn from the kinktober kink list!

Day 1: 1. Spanking | Sleepy Sex | Aphrodisiacs

A Boon to Diplomacy (The Hobbit, Bilbo/Thorin/Thranduil/Bard)

Day 2: 2. Dirty talk | Watersports | Forniphilia (Human Furniture)

A Firm Footing (Sherlock, Irene Adler/Sherlock Holmes)

Day 3: 3. Public | Biting | Sthenolagnia (Strength/Muscles)

Chelicerae (The Silmarillion, Thuringwethil/Ungoliant)

Day 4: 4. Bukakke | Knife Play | Begging

Entitlement (Sherlock, Sherlock/John)

Day 5: Day 5: 5. Humiliation | Cuckolding | Body Swap

Double Dare (Sherlock, Sherlock/Mary/John)

Day 6: 6. Size Difference | Bondage | Bonds (Telepathic or Empathic)

Knotty Wood (Lord of the Rings, Merry/Pippin/Treebeard)

Day 7: 7. Creampie | Worship (Body, etc) | Cross-dressing

The Gentleman Thief (Sherlock, Irene/Mary)

8. Latex | Roleplay | Deep-Throating/Face-Sitting (I USED ALL THREE!)

Forensic Protocol (Sherlock, Sherlock/John)

9. Day 9: 9. Asphyxiation | Lingerie | Frottage (I USED ALL THREE AGAIN!)

Five Minutes in Purgatory (Sherlock, Eurus Holmes/Jim Moriarty)

He straightens his suit as her eyes burn through his shell. “I’m your Christmas present.” His mouth has gone dry. She’s beyond perfect, the essence of pure Holmesness wrapped in a shroud of witchcraft. “What’s mine?” He already knows. It’s that he feels alive in her presence, because he is afraid.

She briefly parts the white shirt of her pyjamas to show the peep of a camisole. Prada. The latest Fall collection. Oh, the implications. He comes as close to the glass as he dares, and then closer, and then their bodies nearly meld through it. She begins to whisper. He’s trembling. He’s hard. She speaks of drowning. He feels the pressure in his lungs.

He’ll joke about Darth Vader but the idea of being choked by remote used to make him hard and shooting off embarrassingly fast.

She curls her white hand against the glass as she dances with him, slow and lewd. She clutches her fist at the knot of his tie, and the glass is still there, he’s sure of it, but somehow he feels her heat against his chest, her face nuzzling, her thighs pressing, and his necktie tightening at her command although it’s his own hand pulling. His come smears the glass as he slides to his knees, consumed with joy as his vision goes black.

A 221B drabble per day (whether it’s a Sherlockian fandom or not), drawn from the kinktober kink list!

Day 1: 1. Spanking | Sleepy Sex | Aphrodisiacs

A Boon to Diplomacy (The Hobbit, Bilbo/Thorin/Thranduil/Bard)

Day 2: 2. Dirty talk | Watersports | Forniphilia (Human Furniture)

A Firm Footing (Sherlock, Irene Adler/Sherlock Holmes)

Day 3: 3. Public | Biting | Sthenolagnia (Strength/Muscles)

Chelicerae (The Silmarillion, Thuringwethil/Ungoliant)

Day 4: 4. Bukakke | Knife Play | Begging

Entitlement (Sherlock, Sherlock/John)

Day 5: Day 5: 5. Humiliation | Cuckolding | Body Swap

Double Dare (Sherlock, Sherlock/Mary/John)

Day 6: 6. Size Difference | Bondage | Bonds (Telepathic or Empathic)

Knotty Wood (Lord of the Rings, Merry/Pippin/Treebeard)

Day 7: 7. Creampie | Worship (Body, etc) | Cross-dressing

The Gentleman Thief (Sherlock, Irene/Mary)

The armed security guard stood at alert rest, hands crossed behind in a strict military manner. No one at the museum wanted to take risks on a recurrence of the AGRA incident, not with the crown jewels of Narrativistan on loan for a limited engagement.

A lean dapper gentleman strode down the hall to the vault with the aura of one who belonged there. The guard alone knew that he didn’t - and looked askance at another guard who wasn’t quite right. It wouldn’t matter. The cameras would be off when they needed to be.

And such was Irene’s daring that she wriggled half out of her Westwood wool and showed sage-green skin-caressing silk, her male-manicured hands slithering into Mary’s uniform trousers right there in the vault. Mary thought she’d be the one who couldn’t keep her hands off Irene - smart tailoring of that suit seeming to change her whole body shape and give her natural air of dominance a masculine flavour. But it was Irene who seemed impatient. “The jewels are safe, pet,” she purred. “In the safest place. Well, safe from anyone but you.”

The cocky effect was dazzling as Irene pushed Mary against the steel wall and opened her shirt and waistcoat, pressing her breasts against Mary’s cheap uniform. “Suits suit you,” Mary murmured.

“Suits you to look butch.”

A 221B drabble per day (whether it’s a Sherlockian fandom or not), drawn from the kinktober kink list!

Day 1: 1. Spanking | Sleepy Sex | Aphrodisiacs

A Boon to Diplomacy (The Hobbit, Bilbo/Thorin/Thranduil/Bard)

Day 2: 2. Dirty talk | Watersports | Forniphilia (Human Furniture)

A Firm Footing (Sherlock, Irene Adler/Sherlock Holmes)

Day 3: 3. Public | Biting | Sthenolagnia (Strength/Muscles)

Chelicerae (The Silmarillion, Thuringwethil/Ungoliant)

Day 4: 4. Bukakke | Knife Play | Begging

Entitlement (Sherlock, Sherlock/John)

Day 5: Day 5: 5. Humiliation | Cuckolding | Body Swap

Double Dare (Sherlock, Sherlock/Mary/John)

Late afternoon light through the cheap blinds of the no-tell hotel made the illicit coupling even more exciting. Mary could hardly get Sherlock’s trousers open and shoved down his hips fast enough as they rolled over each other in the creaking bed, and she’d made his job easier by forgoing knickers. She was wet, he was hard, and the rest of the clothes could come off later once they’d achieved conjoining, shaking and melting, fitting together urgently. He shivered in her arms and let her push him onto his back, riding him wildly, shaking off her blouse and bra.

Both tried hard not to glance too often at the closet door with its perfect voyeur’s slats.

“He’s being so still,” Mary said. “Can’t hear a thing except panting.”

“I only worry that the door won’t withstand his erection,” Sherlock muttered as he grasped Mary’s hips to plunge deeper.

“Oh, how wicked I feel, shagging my husband’s boyf- I mean best friend,” she cried theatrically.

“Oh, how nasty I am, shagging my lov- whoops, I mean, my best friend’s wife,” he growled.

“Which one of us is supposed to be doing the cuckolding again?” she whispered.

“Clever John,” Sherlock said as he pulled her down, her tits to his face. “He’s getting a double dose of his fantasy. The answer is both.”

A 221B drabble per day (whether it’s a Sherlockian fandom or not), drawn from the kinktober kink list!

Day 1: 1. Spanking | Sleepy Sex | Aphrodisiacs

A Boon to Diplomacy (The Hobbit, Bilbo/Thorin/Thranduil/Bard)

Day 2: 2. Dirty talk | Watersports | Forniphilia (Human Furniture)

A Firm Footing (Sherlock, Irene Adler/Sherlock Holmes)

Day 3: 3. Public | Biting | Sthenolagnia (Strength/Muscles)

Chelicerae (The Silmarillion)


Thuringwethil kept a safe distance from the Mother of Darkness, though stirred was she by the scent of blood and susurration of spiked legs on spun silk. Her leathern wings arched above her head, and she expected to scrape a stone ceiling that was not there. For so thorough and deep was the Unlight that the Huntress’s victims perceived that they were to die in a cave, although in truth the open sky was above them, Varda’s stars overcome by the Gloomweaver’s work.

It was safest to watch her feed upon the first wanderers until they grew shriveled. Then Thuringwethil could slide through the shadows and gaze upon the intricate workings of Ungoliant’s jaws as they pierced and devoured and drained her prey’s life blood, replacing it with her viscous venom. Thuringwethil licked her own fangs in sympathetic lust.

“Draw close, if you dare. Eight eyes I have - I see you.”

Thuringwethil shivered at the voice. It could not have come from that mouth, occupied as it was in draining. Husks of Orcs, bones, fallen creatures of all descriptions, ichor spilled and scented. She let out a little moan. Ungoliant would have every right to slay her had she come to steal food, but she had not. Drinker of life’s-wine, she knelt down before her deity to offer her own blood.

Ok, i’m doing this. Last night I accidentally wrote a near-perfect 221B drabble for a fandom that wasn’t Sherlock. So I decided they’re all going to be 221B drabbles (221 words, last word must start with ‘b’) whether they have anything to do with Sherlock Holmes or not. I may change my mind about that later, lol. All fandoms and pairings are fair game for me this round.

Anyway, here’s the first one. There’s a full list of prompts here, and you pick from each day’s listing of three.

1. Spanking | Sleepy Sex | Aphrodisiacs

***

A Boon to Diplomacy (Fandom: The Hobbit)

“Well,” said Bilbo. “There are those who say the Old Toby is the finest, and others who’ll go to war for the Longbottom Leaf. It’s down to whether you like a dry woody smoke, or a lighter touch with a hint of honey. I think they’re both splendid, but one’s more a summer flavor and the other more suited to falling leaves and chill in the air, for it goes well with the scent of a lively hearth … The Old Toby pairs best with beef and brandy…”

“That’s all well and good,” grumbled Thorin, “but have you ever had it with Dorwinion wine?”

“Unlikely,” said Thranduil. “We were barely aware of the existence of the Shirefolk - we’d have been glad to trade if they wished it, but rarely did our paths cross.”

“So neither hobbit nor dwarf nor elf nor man could have foreseen the reaction that the combination causes,” Thorin huffed, and sped up the motions of his hand on Thranduil’s member until the Elvenking bit his lip and closed his eyes and dropped his goblet raining red droplets all over the floor, all over the shining mithril shirt that was the only thing Bilbo wore, his apple-plump arse shamelessly bearing the bounce of Thorin’s thrusts, his rampant little cock stabbing lightly into the mouth of Bard below.