A/Note: Happy Thanksgiving too all the readers on my side of the pond. To all of you on different sides of different ponds, Happy Thursday with this new chapter. Hopefully (if not by content) it'll make up for yesterday's late post, as it's coming out almost in a row.

My thanks to the guest (s?) who posted the last reviews. Thanks for letting me know that Chapter 14 worked. I was surprised that, up until now, no one had commented on that one.

Trigger warning: It's hard to give warnings without giving away the plot. But there is a possibility of sexual violence in this one.

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26. Parked in a dark place

He walked her to the front door and she kissed him chastely. 'See you Monday?'

'Yes, of course,' he frowned.

'I had a good time, Sherlock.'

'Goodnight, Janine.'

'Goodnight.'

He turned around and walked away; he could hear her getting inside and closing the door. As he was closing the low gate, he heard a voice behind him. 'Quite the show tonight.'

He rolled his eyes, 'Sebastian, don't you have better things to do?'

'I do, that's why I'm here.'

He turned to face him, but was struck on the chin. The world went dark and he was plunged into nothingness.

...

When he came to, he found himself lying on the back seat of a car, with his own tie binding his hands and tethered to the handle above the window. He moved his jaw around and could feel the spot where he was hit. The car was just stopping at a darkened area.

'Ah, you're awake, good.'

'Sebastian, what are you doing?'

'I enjoyed your little show this evening, now I want to do something about it,' he said, squeezing between the two front seats.

Sherlock felt his stomach drop. 'Sebastian.' He couldn't speak, his throat felt constricted.

'I just can't help it. You look so sexy in that suit. That girl was a good warm up, but I can give you something she can't.' He straddled Sherlock.

'Sebastian. Don't.'

'I could make you feel good too, you know?' Sebastian lowered himself, held Sherlock's head with both hands and kissed him. Soon he was rubbing himself against Sherlock, running his hands all over his body. 'I've wanted you for so long, I'm not going to wait anymore.'

Sherlock struggled, but Sebastian was too strong and heavy, he couldn't move. With his hands bound, there was no way to fight. He could improvise with his feet, but what he really needed was to free his hands. He felt the panic rising inside him and the threat of a trembling fit gathering momentum. He thought again of the alley, of John. Control you fear. If not for yourself, for John.

In a flash, two things came to mind.

First, it was something that Mr. Bart had said:

Sherlock, if there's one person that can defeat others using your brain rather than punches, that's you. This (tapping his own head) is your greatest weapon. Use what you know about your opponents against them. Psychological warfare, if you will.

The other, was from a forensics programme he had seen a while back:

A serial killer had already kidnapped, raped and killed eight women and the police was at a loss, with no clues or witnesses. Until the murderer made a mistake: he let one woman live. Interviewed, she explained that, during the several days while she was held captive and repeatedly raped, she started saying things like "Let me stay, I'll stay and be your girlfriend," over and over. She had a confident air as she said that. Confused, the man didn't know what to make of it. Whenever she was allowed to use the loo, she left fingerprints everywhere: under the toilet tank cover, under the sink, inside the medicine cabinet. She didn't think she'd ever get out of her ordeal alive, so she tried to leave as much evidence of her presence as possible. When time came for him to get rid of her, he blindfolded her, had her lie down on the back seat and drove around, stopping at a cashpoint machine. There was a gap at the bottom of the blindfold, so she was able to see a few street names now and then, as well as the bank's logo. Then, to everyone's astonishment, he dropped her off in an isolated place, but unharmed and alive. Later on, using her information, the police was able to locate the cashpoint machine and trace the receipts back to him.

He changed tactics then.

He closed his eyes and made himself go limp, relaxing all his muscles. Then, pushing aside his revulsion, he thought about John. Once more, he had to make this credible. He ignored the strong men's cologne, manipulated his breathing to emulate excitement and, after a suitable time, started kissing back.

It was working. Sebastian slowed down and now was moaning in his mouth.

'Oh Sherlock, kiss me.'

And he did. Kissed him as if he wanted it. He concentrated on his image of John and moaned and pressed into him. He spread his legs to cradle Sebastian's hips and arched his back. Panting, he whispered, 'Sebastian, I can make you feel good too. Please, let me touch you.'

But Sebastian backed away and ripped his shirt open, kissing, licking and sucking his neck, making his way down to his nipples. Sherlock grimaced in disgust, he could feel prickly stubble, slobber and teeth nibbling on him painfully. Yet, he pushed his chest up and moaned, 'Please, let me touch you.' Sebastian backed again and to Sherlock's horror, unbuckled his own belt, opened his fly and shoved his trousers and pants down in one sweep. He stroked himself, staring at Sherlock. He tried his best to look aroused, but the image of John faded as Sebastian's intentions became clear.

Sherlock's eyes were wide now. God, he's big! He wasn't acting anymore; his panting was real. Play with his ego. Keeping his eyes down at Sebastian's member he said, 'Oh God, you're so big. Please Sebastian, let me touch you.'

Sebastian stared at him, then after some thinking, reached up and started fiddling with the binding. 'Please, I want to touch you,' and for good measure, Sherlock arched his naked stomach against Sebastian. He could feel a sticky wetness making a disgusting mess on him. Sebastian moaned and continued rubbing himself on him as he struggled to untie Sherlock.

As soon as his hands were free, Sherlock wrapped his legs around Sebastian and locked his feet.

'Oh yes, Sherlock.'

He wrapped his arms around Sebastian's neck and turned his face away, as if offering his own. He felt wet lips slobbering and sucking on his neck, stubble unpleasantly scratching him. Sliding his hands towards the front, he quickly crossed them and, placing the back of his hands on either side of Sebastian's thick neck he grabbed the collar. Pulling both hands towards each other, he rotated his right fist, pressing against the throat. Sebastian's eyes flew open and he struggled reaching up, but Sherlock kept his grip tight and feet locked. With wide eyes, Sebastian struggled, but soon passed out, collapsing on top of Sherlock.

Heart hammering on his chest, Sherlock let go and shoved Sebastian off of him. He struggled to get through him and to the passenger's door, but made it out, stumbling and falling off the car. He had no idea of where he was, but ran as far away and as fast as he could.

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