Sherlock Holmes and the Case of the Claymore

Chapter 15

Sherlock and John had made love several different times that night, “Each time had been more exquisite and unique,” Sherlock thought as he smoked a cigarette, looked out the window and watched Clare and John train together. John thrust and parried, until Clare’s arm began to tire. “My God, he is magnificent-strong. There is no sign of vulnerability about him here. Other than losing me nothing seems to scare him,” Sherlock thought, as he turned away from the window. He was exhausted and yet did not want to rest, as John had suggested earlier. Sherlock curled up on the bed in the fetal position and covered himself with a blanket. “God, I need something stronger than a cigarette. I wonder what sort of recreational drugs they have here,” Sherlock thought as he burrowed further under the covers. He fought sleep for a few moments and then Sherlock ceased to struggle, as his eye lids became heavy he drifted off into a deep slumber.

When Sherlock woke up it was dark outside and a chill had overtaken the room. Feeling useless Sherlock had made up his mind to go back to sleep for he was bored and his mental acuity seemed to be diminishing the longer they stayed here, when the bedroom door opened and a small woman came in and lit a fire in the hearth at the end of the bed. Language didn’t seem to be a barrier here so Sherlock asked the woman a question. “Excuse me, do you have anything here that gives a person a buzz, you know heroin, cocaine, pot, whatever?” Sherlock asked in his most charming voice.

The woman looked at him and giggled, which made her small almond shaped eyes go shut. “I think I know what you mean. Be back in a second okay?”

Sherlock leaned back in the bed in excitement, “Something new, God this was going to be great,” Sherlock thought as he put on a robe.

A few moments later the woman came back with a green shinny leather looking pouch. She smiled at Sherlock slyly, as she pulled out a needle and syringe and as she pulled back the plunger, it filled with a green fluid. Sherlock’s hands shook as he rolled up his sleeve. “Hurry, do it. I want to feel the needle in my arm,” Sherlock hissed as he pulled the woman closer.

The woman looked down at Sherlock, there was a slight sting and then the fluid poured through his veins. Sherlock waved the woman away as the room began to spin. He tied his belt around the head board and pulled at it, arching his body upward every time the drug forced its way through his system. “God, what a glorious buzz,” Sherlock thought as he sighed and arched his body again. It was at this time that John walked through the bedroom. “What are you doing?” John yelled, as he ran over to examine Sherlock. John looked into Sherlock’s eyes and asked,”Sherlock, are you high?”.

Sherlock giggled and answered, “Yes, Doctor.”

John took Sherlock by the shoulders and shook him. “Why do you have to defile yourself like this? Sherlock, what is wrong with you?” John cried out as he took Sherlock’s pulse.

Sherlock giggled again for it felt good to have the upper hand. “John, I have only begun to defile myself. Now, I want you to screw me hard.”

John let go of Sherlock’s wrist and turned away. He then turned around and took Sherlock’s pulse again. “You want to be screwed hard? You’ve been bad? Sherlock you have tested me for the last time,” John said as he ripped the rest of the covers off of Sherlock. He jerked Sherlock up to a sitting position and ripped off his robe. “You still want it hard?” John asked harshly.

Sherlock was already starting to feel his groin harden. “Yes, John come on take me now.” Sherlock whimpered.

John’s pants were already wet in the front as he took them off and positioned himself behind Sherlock; he then reached his hands around to make sure he could still reach in between Sherlock’s legs. Sherlock reached back, “Come on, John, God I can’t stand it anymore. I burn for you, go deep…” Sherlock’s voice trailed off in a groan as John acquiesced to his request. John lost himself, gave up control, and as he gave up his humanity, his eyes glowed yellow and his hands grew claws that he dug into Sherlock’s back as he thrust himself in and out of Sherlock’s backside. “You’re hurting me, John,” Sherlock cried out as John’s claws dug deeper into his back. John thrust faster and faster with only one goal in mind. “We are going to climax together,” John thought as he began to fill Sherlock with his warm fluid. “Oh God,” John gasped as Sherlock’s own fluid soaked John’s hands. John rocked back and forth wildly for a moment or two longer and then collapsed on Sherlock’s back. Slowly, John’s eyes turned blue once more and his hands became the gentle hands of a surgeon. John looked down at Sherlock’s bloody back in horror. “My God, what have I done?” John thought.