ext_24785 (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
cloudtrader.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
crack_van2010-12-12 07:05 pm
cloudtrader.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2010-12-12 07:05 pm
Entry tags:
A Thorough Examination/In Depth by Eleanor K. (NC-17)
Fandom: SHERLOCK
Pairing: Sherlock/John
Length: 17,000 words
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
emungere
Author Website: More fic by this author can be found here.
Why this must be read:
Um, so, you know how my last rec was completely romantic fluff with barely a mention of naughty touching? Well, this rec is basically the complete antithesis of that. This story has scary, amazingly hot, really disturbing, and completely psychologically fucked-up naughty touching in it, and it is AMAZING. Here is the author's warning for this fic... Warnings: Noncon, dubcon, psychological manipulation, thoughts and discussion of suicide. Medical fetish, sounding, e-stim, use of a gun during sex. Dark. Yeah, all that. AND IT IS AMAZING. The way the writer portrays the characters and especially Sherlock's thoughts are just so, so good. In the show, the characters are twisted enough that something like what happens in this story actually seems entirely possible, especially with the brilliant narration and psychological depth the author brings to it. In my head, I label this fic "that medfet fic that I liked so much."
"I've done hundreds of these for the Army," John said. "Don't worry about a thing."
John's finger was warm and slick, unnaturally smooth from the latex glove, and Sherlock's breath hitched as it rubbed down between his cheeks and over clenched muscle.
"Ease up," John murmured. "Nothing to be afraid of." His free hand stroked down Sherlock's back and up again, rubbing along his spine. It made the gown ride up still more.
Sherlock gripped the edge of the table hard and made a conscious effort to relax. He couldn't hold back his gasp when John's finger slipped inside.
"Very good," John told him, and then there was a second finger pressing in beside the first, and-- Well. Sherlock hadn't read a lot on the subject of prostate exams and nothing recently. Perhaps the technique had changed.
He couldn't think or rationalize past that. The stretch of muscle was too intense, not quite pain, but a low grade burn that demanded his attention over and over. He shifted slightly to ease his bare feet on the cold tile and gasped again.
John chuckled. "Best not to move. It'll be over soon."
And John was reaching, pressing in, angling for something, and when he found it Sherlock felt his body squeeze down tight around John's fingers, impossible to control.
"Sorry," he said. It came out shaky, and he could feel his face heating up.
"Perfectly natural," John said.
It came just a shade to late for it to be true, and Sherlock pressed his forehead to the table. The paper covering rustled each time he moved, however minutely, and he couldn't quite keep still.
John's fingers twisted inside him, pressing, rubbing, lightly at first and then harder. It sent sparks down Sherlock's spine, and he felt his cock start to thicken. John was standing close behind him now, one warm thigh pressed to the back of Sherlock's, light wool against bare skin.
"Just a bit more," John said. "Don't think about it, that's my advice. What do you want for dinner this time? Anywhere you like."
This was surely, surely not the way it was meant to go. Not these short thrusts that had Sherlock's toes curling against the tile, that shook him and made his thoughts rattle around loose, that made him breathe too fast and bite his lip to stay quiet. He interpreted the growing tension and heat and sheer electricity in his body and calculated he was roughly sixty seconds away from the first non-solitary orgasm of his life.
"John," he said, and there no disguising how rough his voice was, or how low.
"All done," John said, and pulled his fingers gently out. "I'll just leave you to get dressed."
A Thorough Examination
Pairing: Sherlock/John
Length: 17,000 words
Author on LJ:
emungereAuthor Website: More fic by this author can be found here.
Why this must be read:
Um, so, you know how my last rec was completely romantic fluff with barely a mention of naughty touching? Well, this rec is basically the complete antithesis of that. This story has scary, amazingly hot, really disturbing, and completely psychologically fucked-up naughty touching in it, and it is AMAZING. Here is the author's warning for this fic... Warnings: Noncon, dubcon, psychological manipulation, thoughts and discussion of suicide. Medical fetish, sounding, e-stim, use of a gun during sex. Dark. Yeah, all that. AND IT IS AMAZING. The way the writer portrays the characters and especially Sherlock's thoughts are just so, so good. In the show, the characters are twisted enough that something like what happens in this story actually seems entirely possible, especially with the brilliant narration and psychological depth the author brings to it. In my head, I label this fic "that medfet fic that I liked so much."
"I've done hundreds of these for the Army," John said. "Don't worry about a thing."
John's finger was warm and slick, unnaturally smooth from the latex glove, and Sherlock's breath hitched as it rubbed down between his cheeks and over clenched muscle.
"Ease up," John murmured. "Nothing to be afraid of." His free hand stroked down Sherlock's back and up again, rubbing along his spine. It made the gown ride up still more.
Sherlock gripped the edge of the table hard and made a conscious effort to relax. He couldn't hold back his gasp when John's finger slipped inside.
"Very good," John told him, and then there was a second finger pressing in beside the first, and-- Well. Sherlock hadn't read a lot on the subject of prostate exams and nothing recently. Perhaps the technique had changed.
He couldn't think or rationalize past that. The stretch of muscle was too intense, not quite pain, but a low grade burn that demanded his attention over and over. He shifted slightly to ease his bare feet on the cold tile and gasped again.
John chuckled. "Best not to move. It'll be over soon."
And John was reaching, pressing in, angling for something, and when he found it Sherlock felt his body squeeze down tight around John's fingers, impossible to control.
"Sorry," he said. It came out shaky, and he could feel his face heating up.
"Perfectly natural," John said.
It came just a shade to late for it to be true, and Sherlock pressed his forehead to the table. The paper covering rustled each time he moved, however minutely, and he couldn't quite keep still.
John's fingers twisted inside him, pressing, rubbing, lightly at first and then harder. It sent sparks down Sherlock's spine, and he felt his cock start to thicken. John was standing close behind him now, one warm thigh pressed to the back of Sherlock's, light wool against bare skin.
"Just a bit more," John said. "Don't think about it, that's my advice. What do you want for dinner this time? Anywhere you like."
This was surely, surely not the way it was meant to go. Not these short thrusts that had Sherlock's toes curling against the tile, that shook him and made his thoughts rattle around loose, that made him breathe too fast and bite his lip to stay quiet. He interpreted the growing tension and heat and sheer electricity in his body and calculated he was roughly sixty seconds away from the first non-solitary orgasm of his life.
"John," he said, and there no disguising how rough his voice was, or how low.
"All done," John said, and pulled his fingers gently out. "I'll just leave you to get dressed."
A Thorough Examination