The Reluctant Sperm Donor

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By Cristiano Caffieri

Information that Moriarty was operating his evil empire out of a Scottish castle prompted Sherlock to catch the 3.54 out of Euston Station for Edinburgh. Little did he know that in less than 12 hours he would find himself stripped naked and tied to a sturdy oak chair in the North Tower.

Watson, who was suffering from an attack of gout, was not able to take the trip, and so as Sherlock tugged at his bonds he knew that it was unlikely that the gun toting doctor would suddenly burst in and rescue him. Perhaps the most ego-sapping part of it all was that he had been tricked into taking this trip – not by James Moriarty himself but by his devilish daughter Ailish.

This woman, who had built a fiendish reputation as a temptress, had literally fucked her way across Europe. Her sexual repertoire made the Kama Sutra look like the boy scouts handbook. She had sucked off princes, politicians and almost half of the Argyle and Sutherland Highlanders. The information she extracted from her victims was then sold to the highest bidder. But it was not information she wanted from Sherlock – it was sperm.

Ailish wanted to combine the evil genius of the Moriarty family with the genes of the most celebrated detective in the world. Their offspring would not only possess an unimaginable criminal mind but the power to deduce what steps law enforcement practitioners might take to counteract his or her dastardly deeds.

She was not an unattractive woman – in fact, she had a great ass and a pair of tits that Hugh Heffner would have sold his soul for. However, she was dealing with Sherlock Holmes – a man who had considerable control over the function of his sexual organ. And as she purred sweet nothings in his ears and stroked his hairy chest it lay there all floppy and unaffected.

“What’s wrong with you – are you gay or something?” she asked, frustrated that he was not responding like her average conquest.

Normally one touch of her long slender fingers would send their dicks shooting up like a Nazi salute but Sherlock was different. His looked more like at a little pink worm in the process of hibernation. She grabbed hold of his foreskin and stretched it like a rubber band. “Am I not attractive?” she stormed, pulling on it so hard it made his eyes water.

“You have a gorgeous body,” he cried, “And there’s nothing I’d like better than to fuck your brains out but your evil intent prevents me from developing a boner.”

Unfortunately, just as he believed she had underestimated his ability, he was about to find out that he had underestimated hers. Ailish had perhaps the most sensuous lips in the universe. They were as plump as the lips of her cunt and capable of bringing dead men back to life.

Kneeling in front of him with a sinister smile on her face she began to use her long slender fingers to fondle his balls and to pull back the skin on Mr. Floppy. She blobbed her tongue out and tickled Pete’s eye before taking the whole thing in her mouth. That was not particularly difficult at this point but as Sherlock began to groan and heave his ass up and down she could feel it hardening until it was so big she almost choked on it.

Continuing to fondle his nutsack with her left hand, she used her right to hold onto his stiff cock as she plunged it between her scarlet lips. She’d read in a study by a leading university that jerking off prior actual intercourse increased the chance of pregnancy. Ailish figured sucking him off would essentially accomplish the same thing.

Not wanting his captor to believe he had succumbed to the effects of her oscillating palate, the master detective struggled to establish mind over matter. However, with his nerve-endings sending signals back to his brain telling him what a fucking lucky dude he was, his resistance was well and truly broken.

It didn`t take long before his balls began to boil and he could feel hot cum moving up his stem and shooting into her mouth. To someone who regularly ate Haggis it tasted comparatively nice and she moved it around with her tongue a few times before swallowing it.

In spite of thinking that Ailish was a scumbag, determined to corrupt as many people as sub-humanly possible, he had to admit she was a good fuck and after her performance, he was anxious for more. However, he wasn’t keen on the idea of her straddling his lap and lowering her vajajay on to his nightstick while he was seated on the chair. Holmes was a man who preferred it horizontal.

“If you want to really see some action I think you should untie me,” he said looking down into her deep blue eyes.

“I’d like that,” she replied, “But I’m not fucking dumb enough to do it.”

“What if I give you my word of honor.”

Now everyone knew that Holme’s word of honor was as good as money in the bank but as extra insurance, she called one of her bodyguards into the room. This turned out to be a six foot four, kilted Neanderthal, who looked as if he was wearing his sporran on his face.

“Once false move and Angus will slice off your testicles with his claymore,” she said, as she loosed the ropes that bound him.

“Well I would like to go for a pee before we get down to some serious baby making,” he said, scrunching his legs together as if it was a matter of some urgency.

Angus escorted him to the washroom that simply contained a hole in the wall so you could piss into the moat but it did have a medicine chest, and having a doctorate in chemistry he was able to mix a few ordinary everyday compounds to render his sperm temporarily infertile. He then knocked on the door and his guard escorted him back to where Ailish lay on a big bear skin rug naked and trembling with anticipation.

In spite of the fact this exercise was for the purpose of reproduction she was obviously not looking for a quickie and as Angus stood there licking his lips with relish, he set about sucking her nipples and fingering her wet crack. She loved it and even called out his name a couple of times as he continued to perform his magic on her points of interest.

When Ailish reached orgasm she was not shy to show the level of her appreciation. Her screams echoed down the valley outside and dogs in nearby villages began to howl. She couldn’t regain control of her writhing ass for a full five minutes but when her hairy snatch was in his crosshairs he rammed his cock into it as far as it would go. Her eyes opened wide, she gasped, and so did Angus.

Wanting her to suffer just a little he withdrew it and kept her waiting a few seconds before he boldly rammed it in again. Her fingernails were digging into his forearms urging him to get his ass in gear and when he did – she almost became hysterical.

The Baker Street Sleuth was on his game and he pounded her pussy mercilessly. His balls were taking a beating as they crashed between her thighs but even the pain felt good.

Every nerve in his body seemed to be on fire as his ass went up and down like the piston on a steam engine. Ailish was crying out “fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” over and over again and Angus had his kilt up at the front and was jerking himself off.

When Sherlock shot his load she wrapped her legs around him so tight he could hardly breathe.

“That was great,” she cried breathlessly, “I have a feeling that you will soon be a daddy – but just in case it didn’t take you’ll have to be my guest here at Dun Well for a while yet. “

Although he was enjoying the warmth of her soft shapely body he broke free, and grabbing the still masturbating Angus, by the hem of his Royal Stewart tartan, he dragged him forward and threw him on top of the screaming evil bitch, rendering her immobile. From that point all he had to do was fight his way through a platoon of bodyguards, a pack of snarling dogs and swim through a moat that doubled as a septic tank, to gain his freedom.

Watson, who was soaking his feet when he got back to his apartment in Baker Street, greeted him as he walked through the door,

“Good grief Holmes why are you wearing panties and a bra?”

“I had to make my escape from Dun Well Castle naked Watson – fortunately I was able to purloin these garments from someone’s clothesline.”

“Damned inconvenient if you ask me.”

“Well not completely – my unusual attire did enable me to persuade the conductor on the overnight train out of Edinburgh to let me ride free – but there was a price to pay.”

“What was that Holmes?”

“I had to sit on his lap all the way to London.” THE END

book number one

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Copyright 2014 Cristiano Caffieri

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