sherlockbbc_fic | Prompting Part XXXVI

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Prompting Part XXXVI

THE MEME NEEDS ARCHIVISTS!

GUIDELINES

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Please consider warning for prompts that may trigger people (and also for fills, because some people read in flat view) and phrasing prompts in a manner that strives to be respectful.

Things which you might want to consider warning for include: Rape/Non-Con, Death, Suicidal Thoughts, Self-Harm, Underage Relationships, among others.

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PROMPT FREEZES
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CONTACTING MODS
Your mods for this meme are

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MEME LINKS
Pinboard Archive - Delicious Archive - Guide to the Archive
Filled Prompts Posts: Parts 1-23 - Parts 24+ - Spoiler Free
The Glorious FAQ - Page-A-Mod

Varnish Error View of This Page - Newest Page in Flatview - Newest Page of the Meme

Love Post - Chatter Post - Searching Post
Concrit Post - Story Announcement Post - Orphan Post
Spoiler Free Prompt Post - Overflow Post

Links to previous prompting parts

OTHER LINKS AND AFFILIATES

sherlock_rant: A place to rant about or discuss anything with few to no restrictions.

sherlock_rpf: This is a kinkmeme for RPF about the show.

sherlockcrit: A multi-fandom betaing/concrit community, with a focus on BBC Sherlock.

sherlockbbc: A community dedicated to the BBC adaptation of Sherlock Holmes.
Useful resources for Sherlock and LiveJournal.
Sherlock screencaps.

Update to prompting guidelines.

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Slavery is legal. Irene works with slaves. She trains new slaves, not only to please their masters/to-be masters, but also to help slaves survive their new "life", full of abuse and degradation. She also takes care of broken, brutalised and abandoned slaves so they can be somewhat on their feet again (if you can say such a thing about a slave). Maybe they are put to sleep (euthanised) otherwise.

John and Irene have met in the past. Maybe they have studied together at some point. For example, Irene needed a good medical training for her job.

They accidentally meet after John comes back from Afghanistan. John doesn't approve of slavery and therefore isn't very comfortable with Irene's profession, but he's still a gentleman to her. Irene can read people pretty well. She knows that John is a bit lost right now and needs to feel useful and help people again. She knows it makes him feel much better. Saving lives is his vocation. So later, after their encounter, she decides to send him one of the slaves she's currently working with as a gift. Sherlock has been broken by his previous masters and is in need of care, including medical care (maybe he has a disability and won't sell again, so he's to be given away to be euthanised).

John isn't thrilled at first. He, most definitely, doesn't need a slave. But he's the only chance Sherlock has got. John is a kind and caring person, not to mention he's a doctor, and Sherlock needs all of it desperately.

Can be gen or platonic love.

warnings: mature content, non-con, m/f, m/m, abuse, slavery, dom/sub (?)

a/n: I'm going anon for this as it's going to have some graphic sexual content, which I've never truly written before and definitely not what's about to come up (fingers crossed I don't embarrass myself out of it) but this scene with Sherlock and Irene as a starting point wouldn't get out of my head, so here I am. If you see anything that anything that needs extra tagging, please let me know and I'll add it to the warnings.

Irene flipped through the papers in her hands as she walked, high heels clicking against the stone floor of the back rooms of her estate where the import cases waited her approval. Right now she was due to look over one of their older buys, a used model on his way towards liquidation, if even half of what the history sheet said about him was true.

ID number 2533065. Age 36. Known aliases William, Sherlock, Scott, and Holmes. Not applicable here, though. Maybe she’d name him Snuffles. The list of owners was long and varied. Some were even missing, leaving gaps of time between them.

She rifled through the files until she found the most important one for this house’s purposes. Sexual history. Like most slaves he was bedded as soon as he reached the legal age of sixteen and continued off and on to warm others’ beds, mostly men but also the odd woman or two, though she noted it usually took a higher cocktail of drugs for a proper performance then.

Stapled to the last page was a doctor’s report, not one related to the main page. It seemed his last owner had the foresight to send his property to get a mental eval.

Sociopath, huh? Irene snorted when she saw the doctor’s credentials. He had absolutely no training with the low class civilization. Snuffles had never even had proper training, which was bound to cause a whole host of personality aberrations.

She shook her head at the stupidity of the multitude of owners who didn’t take proper care of their things. Like dogs, Class 2 humans needed training and discipline-you didn’t just give them orders without properly preparing them to follow through.

Behind her, an assistant took the file and settled it in her arms, pen already poised to make notes. Irene threw open the doors to room 32, where her newest acquisition waited.

OP here. Thank you! I already like this and hope to read more soon. =)

I'm sorry the parts are so short. I plan to eventually leave a link to a put together version.

a/n: The pairings for this are Irene/Sherlock, OC/Sherlock, and, er, there's a riding crop coming into play soon. Other parts will be Magnussen/Sherlock and a John/Sherlock friendship.

On the left side of the room, a male assistant had her equipment spread out on a small table. She'd get to that later. For now...

"Oh, yes," Irene breathed. "Very nice."

Snuffles-no, she'd go with Sherlock for this one-was situated on the bed, hands tied above him and looking for all the world as if it were his own idea to be there. His body was an excellent specimen, long and lean, pale, but still solid and strong.

He watched her with keen eyes that tracked her as she made her way towards the waiting table. As she walked, she shed her clothes behind her, a snake uncoiling its scales onto the floor.

A full goblet sat beside her folded robe. It had been filled before her entrance and should have been doctored properly. At her questioning glance, Oz nodded. Smiling, she turned back towards the bed.

"Well. Shall we begin?"

He watched cautiously as she approached. Irene could see his eyes flicker over her naked body, not in a lustful way (a shame, that) but as if trying to read, though she could read the confusion on his face and could not help but smile at it. Let him look. She had nothing to hide, nothing to show.

"Drink this." Irene held the wine to his lips but he only stared at her in stony silence. She frowned at his insolence. After setting the goblet on the floor by her feet, she straightened, only to clench one fist in his dark hair and pulled sharply back. Sherlock grimaced but kept his eyes on her.

She brought her hand up and slapped him sharply across the face, one, two, four times, until he had bright red handprints on each cheek. They would bruise by morning but a little color, however dark, would become him. When next she brought the wine to him, he glowered but parted his lips to drink. The liquid dripped down his chin and left a wet stain across his lips. She lapped at it with tongue in an alcoholic kiss.

It didn't take long for the drug to take. Sherlock's eyes fluttered closed and in his first moment of distraction, Irene climbed onto the bed and up his body, starting at his long legs until she lay flush against him, their faces mere inches apart. His eyes opened again and he stared at her.

So defiant. So unbecoming.

Irene shifted so that her knee slid between his legs and brushed up against the length of him, causing his bound hands to twitch and his breath to catch, however slight he tried to make it.

"You should know," he said in a surprisingly steady voice, "that women aren't exactly my..."

Irene pressed closer and this time his face tensed with pleasure he didn't want to show.

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