|Primary Characters:||Watson, Holmes|
|Warning:||m/m sex, dominance|
|Description:||Someone once tried to prove that Watson was really a woman. I’ve read a book where the main character tried to prove that he was a dog. This is my take on the relationship between the immortal detective and his friend.|
This is my personal journal, private and personal. It is intended for my own eyes only, unlike my more public notes about the Master’s work. This is the account of my life as the Master’s slave. Except for the few blissful years I spent with the Mistress, my beloved wife, most of my adult life has been spent happily and dutifully serving the Master.
I shall never forget the first time I laid eyes on Him. In response to an advertisement about sharing a flat, I came to see mr Sherlock Holmes of 221B Baker Street. From the first moment I saw Him, He made an enormous impression on me. The eyes were so commanding, and His bearing so regal. I remember I had to take a deep breath before I could even get my voice back.
All the time the interview lasted, I was treated civilly, kindly even, but every word that was spoken seemed to tell me more than the simple every day meaning of the word. My face was flushed and and I know my voice almost cracked a few times during the interview.
As I have already written in my other journal, we soon came to an agreement about the sharing of the Master’s rooms. This account truly begins in the evening of the day I moved in. After mrs Hudson, the blessed woman, had cleared away dinner, we moved into the smoking room. Ever since I left the old Alma Mater, I have enjoyed a quiet evening spent with a good friend, smoking a pipe or a good cigar.
The Master was still studying me intently, though He had by now fully analyzed and characterized me earlier in the day. How deep that analysis had gone, I did not learn until this evening. Pinning me to the spot, paralyzing me in mid-movement as I was about to drink my port, the Master cleared His throat and spoke up.
“My dear Watson, do not be offended by what I am about to tell you. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I sense that you are missing something in your life. Something that school and military life gave you, but now you find yourself at a loss. I believe that is something I can help you with, if you will let me.”
“I am afraid I have not the faintest idea what you are talking about, Holmes, my good man.”
“No. That is apparent. Let me try to elaborate. You were a good boy in school, were you not? Obedient, attentive and so forth?”
“I should hope so. But that is not for me to say.”
“And in the army, your performance was spotless?”
“I have heard nothing to the contrary.”
“What I am suggesting to you is that you must be missing the discipline.”
“That is true enough, I suppose.”
“I knew it. That is where I could help you, Watson.”
“Holmes? I am not sure I -”
“Come now. Be honest with yourself. You have been missing someone to take charge of your life.”
“Sh. Don’t talk. Just do as I tell you.”
“No. Not another word.”
And to my shame I must admit that I understood perfectly what it was Holmes was trying to tell me. Furthermore, it induced in me a delicious tingle of excitement. So I fell silent, in breathless anticipation of what was to come.
This was something I had always dreamed of, ever since the first time my nanny put me across her knee and spanked me for some childish prank. Her forceful ways, combined with her feminine charm were irresistible.
Later, in school, some of the older boys and one or two of the teachers caused the same shiver down my spine, but no one had been quite like the Master. I even found myself eyeing His cane expectantly. Surely He didn’t mean to – Or did He?
But I was slightly disappointed. That first night nothing much actually occurred. What He did was merely outline the way things would be between us from now on. I learned all about serving a Master, about showing Him respect and addressing Him with the proper humility. All this was interesting and in a way very rewarding, but part of me was longing for more. Exactly what that was, I had no idea.
My experiences when it came to physical love were practically non-existent even after my years in the army. Now that I had given my devotion, and my body and soul to the Master, I was anticipating His next move, with equal parts excitement and trepidation. The Master, however, had no intention of rushing my training along.
In fact, it was nearly two months before that phase of my education began. As it turned out, it was quite soon enough. I would not have wanted to displease my Master by not performing to His satisfaction. That is almost what happened. I can only blame my inexperience, and my clumsy manner. No one has a kinder, gentler Master than mine and that was my luck.
The night my Master deemed me ready to move on to greater intimacy, I was told to present myself in His bedchamber at eleven that night. That was some hours after the good mrs Hudson had departed for her own humble abode downstairs. I am not ashamed to say that I was as nervous as a boy on the night of his first battle. As in a way I was.
The Master was sitting on the side of the bed, awaiting my arrival. When I walked in, He looked up, and smiled at me, encouragingly. With one hand, He beckoned for me to move closer. Somewhat timidly, but expectantly, I approached the bed.
In theory, I was well prepared. Theory and practice, however, are two different matters, as I knew well from my studies in medicine. Reading about surgery and performing it are two very separate experiences. And so it proved to be when at last I was to learn what pleased my Master.
“My dear boy, no need to look so nervous. It is most irregular, but if you wish we will postpone this experience until another night.”
“Master, please, no. This is what I have been waiting for since I met you.”
Holmes did not reply directly, but He appeared pleased with me for my eagerness. That too, was generous of Him, for it is the duty of a good slave not to show himself too eager, or too shameless. But as I have explained earlier, my Master is a good and kind Master, and I have never regretted placing myself into His hands.
“Come then. Let us begin. I think I should like to see you undress for me. Yes, that is what we will begin with.”
Again, I committed the most unforgiveable of sins. I dared to hesitate, to question my Master’s order. Rightly, He ought to have let me feel the sting of his cane for such impertinence, but still, He kept his temper.
“You have nothing to be concerned about, my dear boy. There is no risk of your not pleasing me. I already know that your form is pleasing to my eyes. Quickly now, do as I tell you.”
By adopting the manner and demeanour so startlingly similar to my nanny’s from so long ago, my Master found the perfect method of handling me. Thus encouraged, I managed to find the courage to obey my first order. Deep down, I felt a touch of pride, knowing that my aspect would not disappoint my Master. Having accomplished the task, I stood, my cheeks colored slightly by the unusual feeling of being naked in company, awaiting the next command.
“Now come closer. I am most impatient to begin this new experiment.”
That is so like my dear Master. To view what was about to take place between us as another experiment. It was not the way I would have chosen to describe it, but my Master’s will was my command, and I wasted no more time arguing with Him, if only inside my mind.
With one forceful movement, my Master too, shed his robe, and sat before me every bit as naked as I was myself. This excited me more than I wished to contemplate. The first duty of a good slave is to his Master, not to his own pleasure.
My kind and gentle Master took my hands and guided them to a very private spot. Never in my life had I touched another man there, not even in my work as a doctor. To my shame, I already knew exactly how to move my hand to provoke the reaction desired by my Master.
On many a long and lonely night had I explored my own body and learned all its mysteries. Had I been driven by a wish to know this from a scientific point of view, my shame might have been less, but it was not so. Solely for my own pleasure had I chosen to do what I had.
Judging from the sounds of pleasure my Master made, I knew that I was doing the right thing. However, that state of affair did not last long. What I was about to do was not immediately clear to me. Not even when my Master instructed me, could I comprehend what I was to do.
When finally it dawned on me, I once more disgraced myself by panicking. The very act seemed repulsive to me, had it not been my own dear Master who was asking it of me. Never had I undertaken a task to unpleasant, but I knew I had no choice. There was no turning back. I had made a commitment, and to go back on my word would be even more repugnant to me.
As always, my Master was patient with me. I kneeled before the bed, and bent my head to begin. All my fears were being realized. This was truly the most odious task I had ever undertaken, and my sense of revulsion kept making me pull back. But knowing my Master as I did, I knew that soon He would begin to lose patience with me, and perhaps take the cane to me.
That was something I had been pleasurably anticipating ever since I first saw the cane in the hands of my Master. However, to be given that sweet punishment I would have to disappoint my Master, and that I could not do. So I renewed my efforts, and sensing the pleasure it gave my Master, I learned to enjoy it in some measure.
Nonetheless, as soon as the task was finished to my Master’s satisfaction, I was forced to retire and compose myself, in the bathroom next door. Being my first time, as well as my Master’s there was no punishment meted out that first night. Instead, He took the palms of His hands to the area which was longing for the touch of the cane. That proved highly satisfying too, and in the end I was given permission to bring about my own release.