The Middle Distance

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.”