drwhitly | Closed to statuethief

Closed to statuethief

Martin was out cold for a lot longer than he would have anticipated. Of course, he woke up without much concept of time until he fully was lucid for a few days. He was set up in quite a nice flat. This Irene Adler really held up her end of the deal and he knew he had struck a deal with the devil, but he was loving it.

So on his second week in London, actually capable of moving about, he got himself a haircut and a shave. He now had the funds so he was able to buy a suit and look quite presentable. Nothing like his incarcerated self.

Then he found the guinea pig cafe.

She had to know that he had 'passed' since it was in the news, causing him to wait a while before coming out of hiding. Still, Martin grinned as he approached the tiny cafe, seeing that it was a bit different than what he had imagined from her description of it. He casually walked inside as if he were anyone else.

"Do I just take a seat anywhere or..."

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"I'm way better, since I'm actually into it."

She gives his hand a little squeeze in reply. She's sure he has some level of fondness for her. As much as he's capable of.

"I do want to get us some pretty blonde."

“So she likes blondes!” His eyebrows go up as his smile spreads. “Do say more,” he leans in like a child excited to learn gossip. Clearly he never got such a need met with is ex. The idea of having multiple women, and women who enjoyed the sex that he did, was not to be a reality after marriage and certainly not after imprisonment. Now he had a new life and he adored it.

"I like long hair, really nice tits." She hasn't really gotten to talk about her fantasy woman.

"A submissive, someone I can pin down and have my way with."

Martin hung onto every word. "More into tits than ass; noted." He nodded as he listened. "What would you do with her?"

He certainly loved the idea of her having her way with someone else. "I could also pin her down for you."

"I've not gotten to eat pussy in way too long. I'd like to get a good vibrator and see how many times I can make her come before she begs me to stop."

She smirks, "you are very good at restraints."

"You imply that you've done it before- I like that." He had not heard of these endeavors. "Wouldn't you like her to eat you out as well?"

"I mean, I would keep her mouth busy, but yes, I'd hold her down for you."

"I have done it before. I was very evenly split in university between going home with men and women."

She smirks at the idea of Martin fucking the girl's mouth, rather than inciting jealously it seems like a very sexy thought.

"I'd want to sit on her face, I haven't gotten to do that for a very long time."

"I imagine you were wild at university." He took a long drink of his wine. "If I'd met you back then, I would have snatched you up and taken you home." To marry, of course. Jessica was enjoyable but he had preyed on her initially for the money.

"Then we must make it happen." He declared, his mind already made up that he would contact his handler and ask about her girls, or what girls she could get for him. "Maybe we try out a few to find the one we like best."

"I'd say I'm still wild. I just prefer quality partners over quantity." She'd have made a great wife for him; kinky as hell and not worried about his extracurricular activities.

"Aw. If we find one we really enjoy we can keep her as a regular."

"That makes two of us." He knew she would have made a great wife as well. Granted, if she had wanted children would have been a factor. Sure, at first they were to cover up his extracurricular activities, but they grew on him and being a great father was esteeming to him.

"Exactly. Shop around for the right one." He had surely adjusted to a life of luxury and never shook it, even after 20 years in prison; it fit back on him like a glove. "We have all the time in the world." Or so it felt now that he was free.

She had never pictured herself as a mother, but in her younger years, she would have been more likely to go for it.

"Sounds like a very enjoyable project." She laughs, finishing her glass of wine. "I'm still waiting for David to knock and tell me it's time to go."

"It is odd to not have his watchful eye on us," He chuckled, picking up the bottle of wine and pouring her more, refilling her glass quite a bit. "Sleeping has been...interesting." It was a rare moment that he admitted that, but it was hard for him to feel as secure after 20 years of being carefully watched. "But certainly far more comfortable. I didn't realize how terribly my back chronically ached until now that it doesn't." He paused and looked down at her plate. "How was it?"

"Perhaps if I spend the night you will feel a bit better. You've not been alone for a long time."

He's always had someone just outside the door so it must feel strange to be in this large space alone.

"Really good. I'm starting to wonder if there is anything you're bad at."

She was certainly right about that. And while he had no one to fear, there was just an uneasiness of being alone now. "I anticipate I will." Whether there will be nightmares about being back in that damn cell, they would soon find out.

"Very little." He winked. "But I'll only show you the good stuff." Not that he had to convince her further to stay but it was back to spoiling her in little ways.

"Now what of your work schedule? Does it just vary on the day?"

"I really want to find something you're absolute shite at. Give me something to be better than you at." She smiles. She's excited to get to spend the night, with a man that could kill her in her sleep. But he did manage to not murder his ex wife for a decade.

"I finally hired an employee. So that's nice. They do 38 hours and I mostly do the rest. But only until about 2 or 3pm."

“Oh, I don’t know,” he pondered for a moment. “Other than making a cuppa?” He could at least say she was pretty good at that but it wasn’t so terribly hard that he couldn’t master it. “You certainly take it up the ass better than I ever could.” Now that was fact.

If it were ever discussed, he would argue that Jessica was far more public. Their relationship had eyes on them and friends, colleagues and families. No one knew Fleabag was in his life or he in hers. So it would actually be far easier for him to murder her without a trace. Especially if he was supposed to be dead.

“Quite the business woman you’re turning out to be. Plan to set up franchises?”

"That's only because of a lack of practice." She sticks out her tongue. "You could be an anal pro in no time."

For some goddamn reason, she trusts him. He doesn't seem to have any inclination towards murdering her, especially not when he's basically being handed victims.

"God no, that would be way too intensive for me."

“Oh no, I truly will always allow you to be the master of that.” He winks to her cute tongue being stuck out.

“Doesn’t your family live in London?” He recalled. “Do they often stop in? To the shop that is.” Curious for his own reasons of being around, that is.

"We will see how you do with a finger." She has every intention to give that to go.

"Yeah, my family is in London. They would notice if I was missing." She laughed. "My sister and I go to lectures together sometimes."

“If I happen to choke you in response to that, well, you’ve been warned.” He laughs but there was certainly some seriousness to that comment.

“Well, I would notice if you went missing.” He casually pointed out as if oblivious to her original meaning.

“Lectures?” His single eyebrow goes up as if finding that out of place. “On what?”

"You can't choke me if I tie you down, silly." She grins, she knows there is seriousness there.

"My dad buys us tickets to feminist lectures, he's trying to make us bond or something."

“I’ve been restrained for 20 years, I’m a bit tired of it, darling.” He smiled with the words that weren’t otherwise sugar coated. No way he was about to be tired up. He thrives on control.

“Is your father a feminist?” An odd thing to give his daughters otherwise.

“Have you told them about me?” That they were in communication at least. She had traveled to America numerous times to visit. Clearly they must know something unless she was just that good or not that close to them.

"Fair enough." She knows he is a control freak, and she won't let her take it.

"He tries to be. It's more that after my Mum died he didn't know what the fuck to do with two grown daughters."

She shrugs, "my sister knows. She said I'm an idiot, but that you're a little hot."

Control freak, sadist, all the same to him.

“Oh, that is sad.” His brow even furrows when he says this; a trained reaction. “I can see why he found your stepmom so quickly.” Despite knowing that it didn’t really help in that area. “Who displays dicks on the wall.” Martin is fascinated by her family and it’s dynamics. “I would certainly love to go to one of her ‘art shows’ if there is another.” He teacher over and placed his hand on hers. “For moral support, of course.”

“Just a little?” He smiles at that. Oh how he loves to be talked about.

"Oh God. Please don't make me think about the dick wall." It haunts her enough without having to see it again.

"She says you're going to murder me, and that she won't say she told me so. Which I said it wouldn't matter if I'm dead."

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