Detective Bell always wore a tie.
Sherlock liked that
He liked that very fucking much.
Detective Bell was strong. Despite being shorter than Sherlock, despite fitting neatly under the curve of his arm, he was strong enough to hold those arms against the floor, as unmoving as metal cuffs, while Sherlock bucked and wriggled and screamed. He was also strong enough to punish Sherlock for not keeping silent, like he was ordered to.
He was strong enough to manhandle Sherlock, to push him against a wall, to hold him up against that wall and fuck him, hard and relentless, until he came, panting and sweating and Sherlock aching for release but, not having earned it yet, left wanting.
Detective Bell was patient. He could wait for hours, drawing out the tension until the very last minute, when he struck, cane or whip lashing against Sherlock’s body. His reaction was immediate and emotional- a choked sound against the gag, silent sobbing that wracked his whole body, and a pliant, blissed out demeanor when he was safe and warm and aching in Bell’s arms.
Detective Bell had very good ideas. Once, Joan went out for the the day, and texted to say that she’d bumped into Carrie and wasn’t planning to come home that night. Detective Bell stripped Sherlock, gagged and blindfolded him, and then cuffed him to a chair in the living room.
And then left him there…all day.
Sometimes Sherlock liked it when Detective Bell didn’t care about him or his needs, when he fucked him so roughly it hurt, and Sherlock was barely able to breathe because his head was shoved into the pillow. He wasn’t turned on in the slightest, but at the same time there was nothing that got him off more.
Sherlock loved Detective Bell’s ties, because when he could wear them like a leash, like a collar, like reins as Detective Bell fucked into him, slowly and surely and deeply. He could close his eyes, feel the cold cuffs on his wrists, feel the knot of the tie sliding tighter and tighter, the fucking getting faster and harder until he couldn’t breathe, and the sense of urgency was palpable in the air, and his body was building up and up until he came with a silent gasp, the very last strains of air leaving his lungs.
That was why Sherlock loved Detective Bell’s ties.