Sherlock woke up in a different room with a pounding head ache. He was glad that it's nearly impossible to overdose on tranquilizers as he had a feeling this could go on forever. Well you couldn't on ordinary tranquilizers anyway and the drug still pumping round his body was something he had never come across before.
Even with his 'massive intellect' he couldn't focus on planning his escape as he knew that John was in a state approximately 1452 times worse than him while he was wasting time thinking about overdosing. The doctor would also be more affected by the drugs as he hadn't spent years as a drug addict.
Oh god this is entirely my fault. Moriarty wouldn't even know who he was if it wasn't for me.
"Stop feeling sorry for yourself, it doesn't look good on you."
Sherlock opened his eyes and saw, like he had thought, that the room was a similar size to the living room in Baker Street but had concrete walls, floor and ceiling. The detective was lying down this time on the only piece of furniture in the room: a wooden table. He wasn't strapped down, but he couldn't get his limbs to obey him. In fact all he could do was move his head.
The consulting criminal was sat on the table by Sherlock's legs and slowly stroked them, knowing full well that he couldn't feel it or resist.
"I am actually feeling sorry for you that you have nothing better to do in your life than repetitive kidnapping and torture. No wait, that's pity."
"Don't make me laugh Mr. Sociopath. I know that you don't feel pity, just distaste. I saw it when you looked at John through the screen earlier; he sickens you now doesn't he? And now you are looking at me with defeat and your eyes beg to be set free into my arms."
"Believe what you want, John could never sicken me. And I would rather die than be in your arms."
"That can be arranged trust me."
"Well it's highly unlikely that you will let me out of here alive so why don't you just get on with it."
"Because then poor Johnny boy would be alone. I'm not that mean Sherlock, you haven't even hugged him since you got here and it would be horrible to not let you two have a good bye kiss."
"You are such a considerate man Jim, people obviously just misunderstand you."
"I am glad that you finally 'get me' as the young say. I just want to be loved and have someone dote on my every word. No wait that's you. You want an admirer and if he wants sex then that's exactly what you give him. You don't enjoy it, you can't enjoy it. It's just necessary for you to thrive."
"Which explains why I regularly crave his touch and the last time I checked a man needs to have an erection to shag his partner which is a hard thing to do without drugs and thinking of something else leads to malice in a relationship. I know that you haven't seen that between me and John so obviously I enjoy sleeping with him so any other arguments you may have are invalid."
"Tell me more."
"About what?"
"You know what."
"Well I was hoping to be wrong. No."
"Oh come on. I want to know what it's like to fuck a normal without having to do it or hear about it from other shit-for-brains. I love that phrase because even though it makes no sense, it would explain a lot if it was true."
"Still no and I don't give a damn."
"Ooo you're so touchy today. Are you sad that your pet got taken away?"
"I don't understand why people get so attached to animals and pets so it is obvious that John means more to me."
"You like contradicting me don't you? You get off on it. We are bantering like we are best friends"
" We can never be friends or even equals. You are just so pointless to my life. It was fun those puzzles you set for me before we met in person but you took it too far. You are now just a man who likes being in the way."
"Changing the subject are we? If you won't tell me what it's like yet then tell me some facts. Do you prefer to top or bottom?" Sherlock closed his eyes and said nothing. This earned him a slap on the cheek. "Naughty boy. Open those wise eyes of yours, don't make me get the clamps." he complied seeing no benefit in refusing. "Thank you. Now for every question you answer John gets one less whip."
On those words the door to the left was swung open and said doctor was wheeled out. He was still naked and was strapped upright and face first to a wooden board with a ball gag in his mouth. Below his knees the skin was red raw and slightly blistered. Second degree burns, minimal scarring and three to four weeks to heal. That is if they got out of here to get him treatment.
The man pushing was thirty five, six foot and had curly hair under his leather mask. This was obviously supposed to make Sherlock somehow jealous as he was almost identical to him. The main difference was his surlier stance, but that hardly made him feel better as he was still undoubtedly going to hurt his partner.
As if on cue to Sherlock's brainwaves, another man in the same attire, leather mask, trousers and bare chest, entered the room. He was pushing a drolly laden with various rope, metal and other material that would be used to hit John. The two new men in the room were twins, from Hull and raised by just their father, and identical apart from various moles and whip scars on their backs. They were obviously professionals at what they did and although they enjoyed it, the army doctor would not.
"So the first thing I want to know is the kinkiest place you two have had sex. In full detail."
