There wasn't time to compose myself as he moved behind me and ducked quickly out of sight. I may not have been experienced, but I wasn't naïve—I thought I knew what was coming next. I braced myself, expecting to buckle over in pain any moment, but once again the detective surprised me as I felt his lips trace a toxic trail down my backside.

As he made his way down, he kicked out my legs and spread them apart one at a time, steadying me as well. With what little energy I had left, I tried to move them back together, but the repeated sting of his open palm against my rear and my lingering orgasm was enough to make me compliant. "Stay still—I want a good look at you."

Crouched down behind me, he took a cheek firmly in each hand, the pads of his fingers digging into me, and held me open as though I were on display. For what seemed like a terrifying eternity, we stayed like that: me, eyes shut tight and pretending I was somewhere else, and him just looking. When I felt him rustle behind me, it was almost a relief. Until I felt the warm little dart of his tongue at my entrance.

I suppressed a yelp and clenched the rope tighter as he lapped at my hole, bathing it in his wetness, readying me for whatever would come next. I bit my lip, tasting more blood as his tongue slithered into my tight channel. To my horror, the wriggling appendage snaked further and further into my hole with every thrust, causing my spent member to re-awaken. This did not escape Holmes' notice as he pulled away to give it a few light strokes.

"You're trembling, Watson." From exhaustion and disgust, I told myself. But I knew that my body had already betrayed me and that it was pointless to fight it. Holmes stood up and kissed my face, gently, almost lovingly. Then, his eyes held mine, the gleam in them just like when we first met—except that, this time, I was the field mouse. And I knew that there was no escaping him.

He well knew what he was doing: once he was done with me, I would be forever marked. I could never face Mary or any woman again, not with this guilt on my conscience, not with my manhood taken from me. There was no time to wonder what my debasement would mean for my future as Holmes told me to 'Say Ahhh' and stuck his fingers into my mouth.

"Get them nice and wet for me, doctor. But I warn you, bite me and you will deeply regret it." I did as he said, coating his fingers in saliva in the hopes that it would ease my pain. "Don't worry—we'll go one at a time."

He pulled his fingers from my mouth, shiny and dripping, and stepped closer to me, one arm wrapping around my backside to hold me open and the other finding my entrance. The pad of his slick finger pushed lightly at my hole, persistent and threatening. "Take a deep breath and try to relax your muscles."

With a slow, cautious movement, a single finger pushed into me, continuing its burning assault until it was all the way in. "Ahh, see now, that's not so bad," he said as his lips brushed mine, feathery and light, singeing my skin.

I barely contained the grunt of pain, turning my head to the side so Holmes wouldn't see me wince. For a moment, he was still, letting me adjust to the new intrusion. The pain dulled, and he began to pull his finger in and out, the friction heating up my insides.

"Let's aim a little deeper, shall we?" I felt a second finger force its way into me, sliding roughly alongside the first. I could no longer suppress the sounds of pain as he scissored them inside of me, stretching my tight hole past its limits. Then, it seemed that the angle changed, and suddenly the lights went off in my brain like a lightning strike—for a moment, I was gone, replaced by an instrument of pure bodily bliss.

I had no thoughts or cognitive abilities, no voice or movement of my own. Without my permission, my body pulsed, heated, hardened. Again and again, he prodded and fingered the light switch inside of me, causing flares of demonic pleasure to spread through my body like a wildfire.

"Looks like I found your weak spot, Watson. How does it feel to be penetrated by another man? To be undone, strand by strand, in the eyes of someone else? I want to watch you lose yourself to me completely."

And I was well on my way there. Soon, my cockhead was shining with pre-cum, my body aching for another release. Between moans, I heard Holmes whisper, "That's three…" and then, "Let's try one more…"

At this point, I was holding back tears. The pain I had expected, but the pleasure…I had no defense against it. My sphincter throbbed madly with every thrust and my insides trembled as my only friend forced his fingers inside of me repeatedly. Just as I thought I could take no more, he gently pulled them out, kissed my panting lips, and moved behind me. His arms wound around me tight, and his voice sounded almost soothing in the dark.

"I cannot hold back any longer, John." It was as though the seven years of wanting had all spilled over into those seven little words. Trying to steady his breathing, I could hear him hastily unbuttoning and pushing aside fabric. I could feel his hands shake from self-control as he prepared to finally take me.

"You don't have to do this, Sherlock." I could barely hear my own voice as it slipped through my quivering lips. But I knew it was too late to turn back. Whether he finished what he started or not, nothing would ever be the same after this.

"I will be your undoing, doctor. Just as you have been mine."